The difficult pursuit of Happiness

How do inspirational quotes make you feel? Happy? Elated? Like you can take on the world?

Our modern world is consumed with the notion of happiness – obtaining it, being it, and revelling in it. Often the pursuit of it however, becomes a journey littered with insecurity, frustration, and disappointment.

That is because of this very real and true fact: a full, adventurous and passionate life, will also undoubtedly come with its fair share of trouble and difficulty, challenge and sadness. In many cases, equal to any experiences of ‘happiness.’

We spend so much of our time trying to be happy, that this can often make us more depressed. Suppressing our normal day-to-day feelings and ignoring the root of our dis-ease, can cause us more harm than good, delaying the emotions that will inevitably surface at a later point in time.

I am not saying that trying to be of an optimistic disposition is a quality you shouldn’t try to adhere to and live by. It is certainly a better headspace to be in, and learning to be happy in a very consumeristic world riddled with technological issues and social media problems, old-age tests of character and identity involving family and friends, petty fights, injustices of race and class and sexual orientation and gender… well, finding a simple thing to be grateful for, such as something beautiful your daughter said to you, it can be the one thing that saves you in an otherwise upsetting and disappointing day.

I keep an online gratitude blog. Not to promote my profile, send a false image of myself out into the world, or even to pretend all is right in my life. It is not.

And even though I practice gratitude every day, I am by no means exceptionally skilled or a master of my craft. In the words of Dicky Fox in one of my most favourite of movies, Jerry Maguire…

“I’ve failed as much as I’ve succeeded.”

On that note, back to inspiring quotes. I love to read them, see them, put them up on my walls… hell, I even have a daily calendar that gives me a new quote to ponder every day.

Sometimes they speak to me, and other times they don’t. Today’s one jumped out at me in a very real way:

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And then later on social media, I saw another that triggered some sad tags of my heart.

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Translated from Croatian, it reads

“Don’t give up if it’s hard. Give up if it’s not important.”

Both of these quotes, though uplifting, have a certain degree of realism and ‘life is scary’ knocked into them, enough to keep you humble, yet also lift your head towards the clouds and give you Hope.

Well then, how do those quotes compare to this more positive one?

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How did you feel reading each? Did you feel better reading the cheerier, latter quote? Or did the ones with a real sense of everyday life grab you more? Is it purely based upon experiences and life circumstance, or do you think we are bound to feel better about ourselves when reading a more realistic quote, as opposed to a super-happy one that we feel forced to be like? Something that we are meant to aspire to, even if on that particular day, we may be better off just staring off into the sunset with sadness in our eyes?

Something to consider.

Oh, and because I can…

And that my friends, is a quote that makes me feel GREAT.

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Lovely Lyrics #3

There’s been a song on the radio, that has been generously overplayed for the last several months.

It’s Bebe Rexha’s (featuring Florida Georgia Line) Meant To Be

There is nothing like a song you find irritating being played on every commercial radio station you turn to. It wakes you in the morning. You turn on your car and bang! there it is. It even starts to get featured on TV. There is just no escape.

But then, something happened a little while ago. Hubbie and I had unitedly been annoyed by the repetitive song, but then all of a sudden, he came home liking it.

Why, I never. I was appalled. We were joined in this common dislike together! He couldn’t do this to me! I was in the kitchen one day, making dinner, having to listen to this song he had put on, when suddenly, I heard a line. A line that really spoke to me:

“No need to go nowhere fast

Let’s enjoy right here where we at.”

Woah. You know how sometimes you hear something and it just speaks to your unspoken question, so succinctly? You hear these phrases all the time though. About being present. Not forcing things. Allowing the Universe to do what it has to do, in its own time.

But it’s not just the message. It’s also the delivery, and how it is expressed. Because remember, we all hear and respond to things differently.

Those words spoke to me particularly, and now, I even don’t mind the song. Why? Because those two lines present the happiness inherent in the present, the everyday… the whole reason I do my gratitude blog… finding reasons to appreciate the every day, no matter how small they are. It is about looking in on what is happening, rather than stewing on the past, or worrying about what will come.

Don’t worry about what is around the corner. Don’t rush. Take it slow, and enjoy NOW.

Breathe.

And then, the whole summary of the song is presented in the chorus lines.

You can’t force the future. Your best bet is to, in the words of one of baby girl’s favourite Disney movie lines “Let It Go.”

Let it go, focus on enjoying the beautiful present, and I can almost guarantee, in most cases when you DO do this, the thing you have been wanting and waiting for will come to you.

And if not, well then there is something even better lined up for you.

So, in that case…

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, it’ll be,

Baby just let it be…”

 

What is the deal with February anyway?

What is it, with a date? Or even, a time of year?

I came to realise months ago that there was some peculiar, truly funny business concerning a certain month, and in particular often, a number.

The offending number was 27.

And the all-encompassing offensive month was February.

Specifically, February 27.

Because you see, on that date, a few things happened. Well, this year one BIG thing happened, but then it reminded me of other like things, and soon I was scratching my head and looking up at the planets and asking ‘what the?’

Was it a cyclical phase? Were the planets aligned a certain way the same time each year, making certain life-changing events happen? Was it coincidence (of which I don’t believe anything of…)

Chance? Hmmm…. nah.

Let me divulge.

I received a phone call on February 27. It was in the afternoon, from an unknown mobile number.

From my bosses, bosses, BOSS.

It was my great grand-daddy of bosses. Immediately, without even being in my industry, well, being a person of any workplace or industry… this was NOT a good sign.

I immediately thought to myself amidst the shock of it all, “some heavy shit is going down.”

I imagined bosses getting sacked.

A huge weather disaster.

A terrorist attack on our work building (I am not even kidding).

But as he began to speak, I started to see where he was headed…

What he said meant major changes NOT just for me, but for me and practically every person I knew and worked with and came into contact with in my daily work operations.

We, and I, were being given notice, of a more than likely redundancy in a years time.

I was in absolute and profound shock. I somehow managed to string some words together and sound somewhat professional talking to this grand-daddy of bosses. He expressed his need to talk to all involved, even if they weren’t at work that day when the news bomb had dropped. It was a hardening business, the industry was changing, and in doing so they were downsizing and moving on over interstate to help themselves, economically speaking.

I remember sitting with baby girl only minutes after the call ended. She kept asking that I play with her dolls. I sat on the floor with her, holding up some barbie doll, it could have been Ana, Elsa, Ariel, hell it could have been all of them for all I know. All I remember though, were the whirling thoughts in my head, the shock, the getting to grips with things. The adjustment. The profound sadness for myself and all of our team.

The acknowledgment, that this good thing, was coming to an end.

It wouldn’t be for another year. They didn’t know when the official move and migration would happen… at this stage, all we had was indicators, and we were given lengthy notice to help us in this massive change of our lives.

And we had known for a while. We knew this was coming. My favourite phrase was “if we’re all still here in 5 years, we’re VERY lucky…”

We weren’t lucky anymore.

And as I sat there, my mind bursting with all of this new information, I remembered something.

Something from that morning. Something that wasn’t shocking. Rather, something that had made me smile.

Because it had been a facebook memory.

You know how facebook reminds you of something you posted years ago, and it will say “on this day X years ago…”

Well I got one of those that morning. I got a “On this day 5 years ago…” and saw with absolute delight that February 27 had been the day I had made my birth announcement on facebook, that I was expecting baby girl. I didn’t share the memory again, instead I opened up the photo, remembered the comments, smiled so hard at the joy expressed from family and friends, and reminisced about a major and truly important milestone of our lives.

From Feb 27 2013. And on that day, Feb 27 2018, I was getting made redundant… soon.

But no, that wasn’t even ALL. Because the previous year, I had walked into the family room with baby girl at the start of the day, and upon opening the blinds, felt it odd I could only hear…

ONE BIRD.

We had two then. We had our trusty and loyal male cockatiel who had been with us for well over a decade. He had been hand-reared by both myself and Hubbie, and had travelled through houses near and far to be with us.

The other one was an Indian ringneck, recently given to us by some family members who could not give the bird the attention it deserved in light of them having had a baby recently.

Then, our cockatiel had been with us for about 15 years – the Indian ringneck, 6 months.

Both males. Yet both so different. The ringneck was cheeky and clever.

A dangerous combination. Because that morning as I decided it was all too weird that I could see one bird from the side view of his cage, yet I could not see the other, I decided to open the back door and take a closer look…

I gasped when I stuck my head out. The cage door was ajar.

The ringneck had escaped!

Feb 27 was whirling in my head. What? A Feb 27 incident from this year, last year, 5 years ago, and that wasn’t even the entire list of everything that had ever happened in February.

2 years ago I had had an accident, literally 20 minutes after jumping in to drive my new car. 20 minutes. My new car. Out of nowhere. This upsetting event was the precursor to my carcrashgratitude site being born.

And then 6 years ago in February, we found out a family member had a terminal illness. The ending wasn’t happy.

I couldn’t believe the insane symmetry of it all as I sat on the carpeted floor alongside baby girl. It was just too much. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Though one event was a happy one, the others were generally upsetting, with another one a shock, but one common theme threaded them all together…

They all indicated CHANGE. Whether the change was good, bad, or just a new adjustment. A learning curve. All these events brought with it major change and adjustment, a different way of coping or looking at life, of trying to deal, and grow in amongst much uncertainty around us.

An illness change – Someone passed away and it gave us an important life lesson in life and death.

A pregnancy change – The most beautiful life change you can get, that equally drives you insane as it does heap rewards on you.

A car accident change – It sent us on a spiral but I started my carcrashgratitude blog, a personal exercise in writing daily and finding gratitude in each day and in everything. 

A bird disappearing change – Some things are just there in your life for quite literally, a season.

And now, seemingly a career change – to be continued…

It must be planetary, there must be something above us making the same wheels turn again and again at the same time of year. I don’t understand it, though I don’t think I am meant to. I think I am just meant to do what I always do.

ADJUST.

And I have. I have had a long time to get used to my new adjustment. My new work change. I haven’t been able to talk about it though, and I don’t know why. Very few people know, and for some reason the words to talk about it can’t seem to find their way out of my mouth…

I think it is because saying it out loud, makes it more real. It means it is actually happening. Sure, it is about the only topic we talk about while at work, but away from work, when it becomes spoken of, well… then it becomes MORE real.

And when it is more real, you know what else will come?

“What are you going to do?”

And that is the clincher. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. I have a million ideas. But I just don’t know where to turn to. And it is this unknowing that has me holding back.

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Roman Bozhko at Unsplash

 

 

 

Winning at the season

Today my daily calender told me this:

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And if you follow my carcrashgratitude blog you may have seen this post, where I posted this pic:

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Baby girl’s Christmas tree.

In baby girl’s bedroom.

Which baby girl decorated herself.

Winning at Christmas AND parenting.

Score 🙂

Girls… we have a LONG way to go yet

(I’d like to forewarn, of my use of the word ‘men.’ I use it in a general all-encompassing sense in this post, however I don’t really mean ALL men, rather to the scum presented below, and those who hold women back from where they need to be in 2017).

Frankly, I’m a little appalled at myself.

This time last year, I wrote a gratitude piece on International Women’s Day. I wrote things like

 

“As women, we need to know our worth and value it, and not continually lay blame on the man, or complain that we are not given fair treatment because of him.

“It’s due to this that we should place further awareness of this important day, in order for those other parts of the world, those ‘cavemen,’ and likewise any unintentionally or not, abiding cavewomen, to catch up, and smell the coffee roasting from the beans that we bought ourselves.”

To read it in its full context you should probably click here. But basically I was saying that  women are sometimes equally to blame as men are for their unfair treatment, because of the way they expect to be treated – they don’t realise their worth, therefore, men will NOT realise their worth.

Excuse me as I bitch-slap myself.

Lucky for me, I am a keen and curious soul, and I LOVE to listen to other people’s points of view. And call it fate, call it opportunity, call it divine intervention trying to tell me something, grabbing hold of me by the wrists and shaking me and yelling “Listen! You have to take this in!”… but lately, I’ve been getting really mad, as I get exposed to a whole bevy of stories and circumstances where women are treated awfully unequally.

Like slaves.

Like nothing.

Like a pile of shit.

So I’m sorry to say, but on this International Women’s Day, we still have an awful long way to go.

Women are still being treated like sex slaves. Domestic violence leads to death for one woman a week. One woman a week. Women are raped, ALL around the world – Eastern and Western cultures do not discriminate. Sexual assault is one of the most undetected crimes, with many women fearing coming forward due to the traumatic process of needing evidence, and having to be strewn through the courts with examination after examination. Offenders get a slap on the wrist, before moving on with their lives, with the victims left to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives, and try to make some sense of it all – only there is NO sense in it all. Side effects of the ordeal are long-term, psychological, physical and affect the entire support network IF there is one, not just the sole victim.

Women are still being paid much less than the opposite sex. Women are underpaid compared to their counterparts, and even though they are often given the advice to be ‘more confident,’ ‘more assertive,’ (like men), it is a double-edged sword, as displaying these career-driven characteristics place them in the unwomanly field – they are not acting in accordance with their sex, and that is a deviation.

What I have come to detest particularly is the victim-blaming: always on behalf of the woman.

The woman sends a naked pic of herself to her boyfriend, and it is HER fault when he later posts it when they break-up.

The woman gets side-lined for a promotion, and it is HER fault, because she was too assertive – too much of a bitch.

The woman gets raped, but it is HER fault, because she was wearing a mini skirt.

The woman gets assaulted, but it’s HER fault yet again, because she was drunk, and really she was asking for it.

Why are the women, ALWAYS to blame? Why is it their fault that men can’t act accordingly? Why is it their responsibility to ensure they will be respected and treated equal, like men are: that is, not discriminated against or assaulted in any way.

How about the MAN is held accountable? I mean, he DID upload that naked pic of her online.

He didn’t promote his female employee, because he was threatened by her assertiveness and drive.

He raped her, because her mini skirt ‘provoked’ him.

He assaulted her, because she didn’t know better, and wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

HOW ARE THESE THINGS OKAY?

In September 2016, Stanford Uni student Brock Turner, walked out of jail after only serving 3 months of jail, where he could have received a maximum of 14 years. It was a severe breach of court justice, and the male judge is now removed from residing over any criminal cases. Brock was found guilty in March on counts of intent to commit rape of an unconscious person, and penetration of an intoxicated and unconscious person.

His father showed the world why his son turned out to be such a weak imbecile and cowardly piece of filth, when he infamously asked for a lenient sentence for his son in a letter, saying a lengthy sentence was a steep price to pay for 20 minutes of action.

20 minutes of action.

20 minutes of action.

Really. 20 minutes of action. Your son assaulted a woman who was both intoxicated and unconscious. It was sexual assault. Choosing ‘lighter’ words make you sound like the type of scum that needs to be removed from this earth, rather than make anyone submit to your case.

If you want to get really angry, you can read the victim’s full statement that went viral last year, here.

Closer to home, and recently I read the explicitly disturbing story of Tara Brown, who was savagely beaten to death by her ex-partner in 2015. Lionel Patea had dropped off their daughter at school, before chasing her down in his car, running her off the road, and then picking up a hydrant and bashing her repeatedly while she was trapped in the car.

She died due to the extreme injuries she had sustained later in hospital.

And you know what he wrote in a letter to her family? He questioned how a tragedy such as this could have happened.

He had beaten her to death, and yet, he did not understand how he did it. As if it wasn’t his fault. Excusing himself from blame.

These examples are primary ones in the issue of women’s equality, however they are only the beginning of the tip of the cold and stark iceberg that is buried deep beyond sight. The discrimination, the fear, the uncertainty that you are born with when you are born a woman… sure, we can vote. Sure, we can work. Sure, we are treated equally in some workplaces, to some degree.

But we are living in 2017 people. Repeat. 2017.

Sexual assault.

Sexist culture.

Unfair pay.

Discrimination.

Bias.

This is happening to a woman, RIGHT NOW.

It doesn’t feel very forward-thinking and living to me.

Sure, I appreciate the women in my life on this day of ‘Women.’ And sure, I am grateful for their positive role in my life, and how they still to this day continue to shape me with their strength, their courage, their fragility, and their never-say-die attitude.

But I don’t have my head in the sand anymore. I am looking at the bigger picture, rather than just my small circle. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know how one person can even make a difference.

But together, as women and men respectfully unite, WE CAN.

Education must start in the home. Children must be taught to treat all as equals. Schools must follow suit, and then there must be legislation against the deviants who think themselves above the law and system, and take it upon themselves to ‘show a woman whose boss.’

WE need to show the deviants whose boss.

They are simple sentences, but they are big, HUGE, ideas. They require a lot of reform.

So on this day, the 8th of March, I celebrate one thing in particular:

The women who make things happen, and make positive changes for the better of all future women EVERYWHERE.

Because it is that woman that I also, want to be.

 

 

 

 

Failing at reading

I’d like to show you something:

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Other than not knowing how to screenshot, if you look even closer, you will see that on my Goodreads account, I started reading Sense and Sensibility…

in (shock horror) February of 2015.

2 freaking years ago.

Not even I realised how bad I was until logging in to update my progress.

It’s taken me over 600 days to finish a book, which though slightly hard to engage with at first, I grew to love, with Austen teasing me throughout about what, and how, certain things were going to play out.

It’s not that I don’t read. I love it, so so much. I wish I had more time for it. But, things happened last year, and though I turned to the book, time and time again, reading chapters here, chapters there, the fact that we had a massive life overhaul, what with Sea changing and all, meant that there were so many other things to take care of, and that still need taking care of… that taking time out to enjoy a very fave pastime of mine, just felt selfish.

This here my friends, is a lesson in failure. Observe the following 2016 reading challenge I participated in last year:

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Have a look at that, really, have a good look at that.

I pledged to read 10 books. Not much I thought. 10 books a year, equated to just under one book a month. That didn’t seem at all impossible, but as mentioned above, Sea change, and all I ended up reading was 2 books.

2 books.

2 books!

And during that time I was about half way through Austen’s book too.

I don’t feel oddly embarrassed. A little ashamed, maybe, because you know, being a Writer and all, and wanting to write for a living, well you feel a bit pathetic when your main bread and butter, the act of reading to help you write – you fail miserably at.

I failed miserably, I know.

I have excuses. I have reasons. Do I need to justify them to anyone? To make people believe that I am a legitimate writer, that I am worthy of the “Writer” title?

No. My online writing presence is enough. I am a busy person. I have a life. And sometimes, things don’t go to plan.

Many times, things don’t go to plan.

It doesn’t mean however, that we shouldn’t plan, or strive towards certain goals.

The lesson here is this.

Firstly, don’t feel bad for taking time out to read, if it is something you love to do – writing-related or not. We should all give ourselves a break now and then, even if it is while waiting in line to pay a bill, on your lunch break at work, or late at night when the house is quiet. For a creative mind, it is necessary.

Second, shit happens. It almost always does. So if your well-tuned ideas and visions don’t turn out the way you’d like – don’t despair. Don’t use it as a reason to give up.

Never use ANY thing as a reason to give up.

Just say “oh well,” and move on. Or my favourite “PLOT TWIST!” and then see what scene the chapter of your life will play out for you next.

I’m already thinking of what I will read next. And I think the well overdue “Girl on a Train” book that I borrowed off Hubbie’s cousin, LAST YEAR, is definitely next in line…

(If you’d like to be Goodreads friends and have an account of your own, my profile name is Smikg…)

 

Hipsters and salads at the Biscuit place

Biscottini
157-159 Main Street Mornington

(Visited and Written pre-Sea change)

We day-tripped it yet again to Mornington one Sunday in March. We arrived right at lunch time, with initial plans for ‘First, Coffee.’ But seeing the time, we re-evaluated and decided to fill our tummies first.

This wasn’t our first visit to Biscottini, or to the Peninsula, which you would know already if you’ve been reading any of my blogs. Although Biscottini is situated in fairly prime position, right in the middle of the strip of shops on Main Street, allowing you to easily people watch from the outdoor seating, or even the tables inside through their big window, it still has a very laid-back, seaside town kind of feel. We decided to sit outside since it was a pleasant day out, and do some people watching ourselves while trying to blend in.

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(Hipster sunnies, courtesy of Hubbie)

At Biscottini you order inside at the counter, beside the counter showcasing all their little cakes and sandwiches. I stepped up there and ordered, besides our lunch, some drinks to get us started.

Moscato and Beer.

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I was surprised with the plentiful quantity of Moscato I received. Despite it being a light wine, it hit me straight in the head and I giggled my way through lunch, which was this:

Grilled haloumi and prawn salad – leafy salad, chilli, zucchini and semi-dried tomato

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While Hubbie had the Caesar salad with chicken – crisp cos lettuce, croutons, parmesan cheese, anchovies and house-made dressing, topped with soft poached egg and crispy pancetta

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And baby girl had the Fish and Chips

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I enjoyed mine, however it was a bit heavy on the dressing. There was loads of rocket, which I love… if you don’t, better luck next time. Only 3 or 4 prawns, so it could have done with a tad more since they were good. And there was plenty of Spanish onion and fetta cheese alongside the sundried tomato thrown in for good measure.

Both mine and Hubbie’s meals made us feel good for ordering them, but after completion we realised there were a lot of things added to compensate for the supposedly light ‘salad’ component. Hubbie’s Caesar salad was a decent portion, yet he found it too hard for him to eat due to the rich aspects, like the dressing. He enjoyed it though, and then we both enjoyed pecking at baby girl’s meal. She of course loved hers, and we were pleasantly surprised that it was of a decent portion too.

Following all of that it was now time for coffee… but we decided to hit foot to pavement, just for the entertainment of moving on.

Food: 7/10. It’s standard café fare, with decent portions. The menu looks quite good too, and I know from experience it’s ever-changing.

Coffee: Not on this occasion, but having had it there many times before (and since) I’d give it a 7.5/10.

Ambience: Outside it was laidback. Inside there is a TV and a large seating area, so if you prefer not to people watch you can just glance outside through the windows when you wish.

People: This is the place you expect to see a few tourists pop in and mingle in amongst the locals sipping their lattes. We’ve been here many times now, and I can just spot the locals with their dogs a mile away (they love their dogs in Mornington).

Staff: Friendly and busy, usually getting down to business.

Price: Really reasonable. We paid $54 for 3 meals and 2 alcoholic drinks. The meals were of decent size, and I was impressed that baby girl’s considerable serve came in at $8, a real bargain when I remember how great it tasted.

Advice: Also from personal experience, I know they don’t have a change table – tsk tsk tsk. So beware! We didn’t place baby girl in a high chair on this occasion, but the chair she sat in had a decent backing, with no gaping holes for her to fall through. That was great, especially with a 2 year-old toddler going on 12.

In a nutshell: We’ve been here many times before and will undoubtedly find ourselves here many more. The food is reliable so you can be assured to find something you’ll enjoy – however on another visit there I noticed their menu had been spiced up a bit, which was interesting. The place doesn’t have any real pizazz for me, but I still like that we can depend on them, and their positioning on the main strip doesn’t remove them from the customers either.

Maybe if I try their biscuits I’ll be sold further???

Biscottini Cafe Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Lovely Lyrics Intro and #1

I’ve been thinking of doing this series for a while now, but until George Michael’s sad passing a few days ago, I haven’t had the proper motivation to start the venture.

I love music, and I highly respect musicians of all kinds. I would love it if I could actually perform, play an instrument of some kind or sing – I find it a beautifully expressive and creative form, which is why I particularly pay attention to the words sung in songs. Often a song will be “meh” to me, until I really hear the words spoken by the artist, to which point I then go “wow.”

This has happened with musicians I regard highly, my ‘Faves’ as it were, but also with those I don’t follow too closely. I respect all the songs, all the music out there, and with this regard I present to you the first entry in my Lovely Lyrics series.

(This series will contain many explicit lyrics, so please, if this offends… oh well).

 

Who else to commence this with than the beautiful, expressive, soulful-singing voice of George Michael.

Oh George. I have been in a real mess since I heard of his passing on Boxing day. With Prince, I was immediately hurt and in shock… yet with George, the shock is still very fresh, still very raw, and the pain of losing such an amazing artist is only starting to take form. Because with Prince, I felt lucky that I even got to see him live in concert years ago… whereas with George, I had seen him, and yet always believed I would see him again. I wanted to see him and hear him sing the following song, so I could cry with happiness and appreciation and enjoy it in all of its live glory. I really, really believed I would see him again. It was a truth that hadn’t yet happened, but I felt in my gut that it would.

He was 53. It was natural to think he would go on for a very, very long time.

The song I’m speaking of is A Different Corner. I speak of him, and this song, in my dedication to George Michael which I wrote a few days ago, over on my carcrashgratitude blog. But this song, is so magical, so pristine in its musical arrangement, and his voice so clear and bright, yet also holding such heartache and yearning, that it is hard not to be moved by such powerful lyrics and music.

The lyrics speak of a love so moving and strong that you are fearful of what it will do to you. And wondering, whether the fear of losing such a love, that it is better not to have love and lost, as the popular quote tells us otherwise.

See it here:

I love all the lyrics of the song. But the ones that speak loudly to me are these:

 

At .53 seconds: “I’d say love was a magical thing; I’d say love would keep us from pain, had I been there… had I been there.”

 

At 1:30 seconds: “’Cause I’ve never come close, in all of these years; you, are the only one to stop my tears, I’m so scared, I’m so scared.”

 

At 2:29 seconds: “Take me back in time maybe I can forget; turn a different corner and we never, would have met… would you care?”

 

At 3:26 seconds: “And if all that there is is this fear of being used, I should go back to being lonely, and confused…. If I could, I would, I swear.”

 

The delivery of those last words

 

“If I could, I would, I swear.”

 

Do yourself a favour, whether you have seen this clip before, or you are new to it, watch the video and enjoy the clarity with which George sings of a love so deep, that you, just, can’t. You will not be disappointed.

R.I.P George Michael.

 

Go through to the food

Via Boffe
74 Main Street Mornington

Once again, Mornington. Our love affair with the Peninsula just keeps on going on. We had driven over for the day on Australia Day, and through the crazily-busy cafes and eateries swimming with tourists and dogs and practically anything else you can imagine, we found this quaint little café nestled amongst it all on the Main street.

I had one requirement – we needed at least a change table area for baby girl, and also hopefully a high chair. We had already rejected Biscottini because they had no change areas, and I needed one because, you know, possible call of nature. Baby girl is a person too. We were staring through the window into this Boffe of a café when the boss lady stuck her head out and told us there were plenty more options inside to choose from, and that it wasn’t just limited to the menu we were looking at on the door.

Smart move. She really, invited us in, and getting an invitation when you’re undecided, and confused about where to go? She won us over.

I did have my before-mentioned requirements. I asked about the high chair – they didn’t have any apologetically, but she was getting some in. Ok next question – change area? She led me to an outside toilet winding around the back behind the outdoor courtyard where we ended up sitting at, and with a key opened the door to a public bathroom with several toilets. There was a kind of bench area underneath the hand dryer… perhaps this could work? I could deal with the no high chair, all I needed was space to change her. This was adequate. This would do.

With the formalities over, it was now time to order.

I went in with baby girl and ordered at the front counter as is the norm there. I also received a jug of ice, which I could then fill up with water from a tap up at the counter. It was self-serve, but a classy kind of one, what with the silver saucer and all. Soon after we received

Drinks of Peroni and Moscato

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Followed by our meals: Hot Salami Roll for Hubbie

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Eggplant Parmigiana for myself

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And a Margherita Pizza for baby girl

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The presentation of the food on the boards was lovely. It matched the rest of the atmosphere there, the iron chairs complementing the mosaic tables in a Tuscan/provincial theme. Outside it was very courtyard classy, amplified more so by our neighbours, who were super-poshy. It actually made me slightly stressed and on edge, knowing there were no other kids around, with baby girl sitting on a slightly wonky chair, and the small table too close for her curious and prying hands. It’s the reason why I love high chairs – she can be controlled so much easier. But I had to deal with what I had.

Hubbie didn’t think his salami roll was that hot. Otherwise it was ok. I loved the sauciness of my eggplant parmigiana. The bread on the side was slightly tough, but softened easily under all of that sauce. Baby girl enjoyed her meal too, and I particularly liked pecking at her bocconcini and cherry tomato stray pieces.

After we ate, I realised baby girl needed a change. I was so grateful that I had chosen the change area requirement over the high chair one. I went into the café as I was told to do, got the key for the bathroom, and then headed down the winding path with baby girl in tow.

Following this, was the toilet debacle. Firstly, the bathroom wasn’t even locked. I opened it easily. As I started to set up baby girl for her change, a girl opened the door, and then called out over her shoulder “there are toilets!” before coming in with two other women. They had come from another street entrance and obviously believed these toilets were available to all public people. I was under the impression they were only available to customers and staff of the café – hence the key. Anyway, I minded my business, but because of the up and down of these people walking in, and then more people coming in, and subsequently these women using the hand dryer – baby girl didn’t want to lie down. I had to convince her repeatedly to lie down so I could change her, I had to in fact BEG her, while stupid women walked by and took their time drying their hands while baby girl CLEARLY got frightened by the loud drying noise.

I withheld slapping. The stupid women, obviously.

Once they were all almost out of there, I quickly changed baby girl, not even bothering to care when another lady needed the dryer. I was allowed there – she wasn’t! Yet none of those women coming in knew that. By the time I finished up with her, then went to the loo myself, Hubbie was waiting at the mosaic table for us about to send out a search party.

Note to management: get a solid key that actually locks/unlocks, as I sure as hell couldn’t work it out, and every Sue, Sally and Sharon was coming in off the street using the loo.

After that drawn-out ordeal, it was time for caffeine.

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We ordered a cap for me, flat white for Hubbie, and babycino for baby girl, in amongst some sweets of caramel macadamia slice, chocolate tart, and lemon tart. I loved the caramel and lemon slices the most, the lemon was definitely tarty and had a lovely zing! Stay away if you’re not into lemons. My coffee was smooth which I was happy with, whereas Hubbie wanted his stronger.

By this stage the atmosphere in the courtyard had changed dramatically. Our poshy neighbours had been replaced by a table of tweens, while their parents talked loudly at the next table. My how I would have loved to have them there the whole time. I just love noisy places now. Yes, the courtyard probably suited a quieter audience, but the louder it is for us, the more relaxed we are in case baby girl goes on a vocal rampage. We were more at peace by coffee time, but by that time it was also time to go.

Food: 7.5/10. Everything looked and tasted great, however Hubbie’s meal felt slightly short of the ‘hot’ tag.

Coffee: 7.5/10.

Ambience: Although it had a relaxed tone being out in the courtyard, it really was dependent on the clientele at the time. Inside there was some seating, and out the front too, where it was bustling on the main strip.

Staff: They were friendly, but busy being a public holiday… smiles were lacking in some, made up for by others. Boss lady was friendliest, but that makes sense doesn’t it?

People: A real mix. Super posh Portsea-types bragging about interstate trips while the thirty-something daughter asks “Dad, do we need to pay?” in a privileged fashion on one side of the ring; families with kids of all ages talking out loud in another fashion on the other side of the ring; and then throw in the odd couple and super-tanned 60+ woman eating alone sporting the latest high-end fashion in the 3rd corner. All sorts.

Price: $60-ish – that included our two alcoholic drinks, 3 meals, 2 and a half coffees, and 3 mini desserts. Not bad. Servings were modest. I think the price was spot on for that type of café in that location.

Advice: One. Maybe make sure your kid is toilet-trained. Step two, if you have littlies, go when they have high chairs or sit inside away from the iron chairs (they should have high chairs by the time I publish this post). Third, if you’re anyone other than those first two categories, just go and check it out. I’m sure you’ll like it. (Oh and D, try the eggplant parmigiana. Yummo).

In a nutshell: Seeing as we are frequenting the Peninsula more and more nowadays, (just check out my Sea change tag over on my other blog to see what I mean!) we can definitely see ourselves coming back here. It was a cute café, with lovely atmosphere, delish food offerings, and the courtyard is bliss in the warm sun. The boss lady really made an impression on us too, she was very clever to reel us in like that… we will be back.

Touche Boffe 🙂

Via Boffe Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Perspective

19 degrees in Winter… “Ahh nice, bring it on Spring.”

19 degrees in Summer… “What the?! What is this stupid excuse of a season?”

 

Waking up healthy… “Eh, another day.”

Waking up sick… “I can’t wait to feel good again.”

 

Dealing with a whinging baby… “Stop crying! You are so annoying, I can’t handle it!”

A childless woman wanting a baby, watching a whinging baby… “What I would give to hold one of my own…”

 

Going into work… “I hate work.”

Not having a job to go to… “My work wasn’t too bad.”

 

Feeling overwhelmed by food after a banquet sitting… “I couldn’t eat another thing!”

A starving child in a third-world country feeling overwhelmed by the lack of food… “If only I could find a crumb.”

 

These are trivialities, first world-problems, serious problems, and for us privileged, most are perspective.

Getting consumed by the nonsense of everyday life is both easy yet unnecessary, and can be overcome when you ask yourself “Is there worse out there? How bad is this scenario?”

There are many, many serious problems and issues out in the world. But how much easier would it be to deal with those things when we removed the silly nonsense from everyday life, enjoyed more of what’s around us, and appreciated what we have?

Showing gratitude for simple things every day, is a very easy way to turn your perspective around, and bring more joy, more happiness, more abundance, and generally more of what you want, into your life EVERY DAY. I know this, because earlier this year I started my own online gratitude journey… inspired by a car crash.

If you would like to check it out, or find some inspiration for your own journey, or you just want to see how I can possibly be grateful that I went back to work after time off (my most recent post), you can click here.

If you are reading this, that means you have survived every single bad thing that has ever happened in your life. Wow, are you a superhero?!

Remember, SMILE. It’s all good 🙂