Words That Make You Go Mmmmm!

The Punch ran an article recently about words that were loved. You can read the article here: “Fizzy”, “Gusto”, “Disco” And Other Words We Love.

Some of the words listed in the article are terrific. I love “discombobulate”, “lascivious” and “deplane”. The reason is because these words sound like they mean. Not so much in the onomatopoeic sense a la “sizzle” but more so in the mood and tone of the word. My English teacher would be proud that I actually remembered the concept of onomatopoeia since I never paid much attention in English class at school.

Being a bit of a wordsmith and now loving word play, I thought I would join in and add to the list. Some of my favourites are:

Castigate – the word just sounds punitive.

Pizzaz – dazzling style, flamboyance, flair. Vigorous spirit; energy or excitement. All conveyed by six simple letters.

Panache – a flamboyant word imported from one of the most flamboyant of languages, French. Ooh La La!

Ruminate – let’s chew the cud fat over something that we think deeply about. To me, this is such a slow, deliberate word.

Serendipity – a happy, light, happenstance (another good one!!) kind of word. My absolute favourite and one that I love dropping into conversation.

Stupendous – an extremely impressive and marvellously clever word. It means the opposite of what it starts out to be.

Tempest – sounds harsh and violent, like the storm it depicts.

Vacillate – the word by the sound alone sounds indecisive.

Whimsy – playful and quaint and well… whimsical!

Do you have any favourites? What words float your creative boat?

A Letter To My Son: Reflections On A Journey

When Steve Jobs passed away I, along with millions of others, watched his Stamford 2005 Commencement Address on YouTube. Whatever else you may think of Steve Jobs, his words in that speech were profound and the message strong and important. I have always wondered what I would say to a graduating class if asked. I know the request is in the mail and one day the postman will discover my mail box. I’m right here, see… waiving at you!

An opportunity arose recently for me to write a letter to my 17 year old son, reflecting on the impending conclusion of his formal school education and journey through the books…. and stationery. Let’s not forget the stationery, you’re looking at a HUGE fan of stationary. Stationery porn is so evil and so, so goooood! But I digress.

My son is in his last year of high school and facing the biggest academic test of his young life in November. Unlike the US, entry into university here is usually totally based on the score in this particular exam (called the HSC), which takes place at the end of year 12. There are no individually tailored university entry applications, no essays and no interviews. You are a score, that’s it.

The school took the boys away on a 3 days retreat to reflect. As part of that retreat parents were asked to write a letter to their sons which was to be given to them on the last day as a surprise. This folks, is my kind of homework. At last I had the opportunity to articulate in the written word, my thoughts, hopes, aspirations and gratitude to my offspring.

Let me share a version of what I wrote. The letter is from both the Italian Stallion and I:

We were so glad when the school gave us an opportunity to write this letter to you. By the time you read this your retreat will be almost over and the next phase of your road to the HSC will begin. We hope you have had time to relax after the effort you put in for the “minis” and to think about not only the future, but how far you have come since starting Kindergarten in 2000.

We know that this is both an exciting and scary time for you.  Exciting because the end of your school years draws ever closer and come late November you will be able to ditch the uniforms and structure that has been with you for over twelve years. But with the excitement, there must also be a degree of trepidation about having to take responsibility for your academic future, about stepping into the adult world and all the inherent responsibility that those steps bring. You have every right to these emotions – they are a natural part of this phase of your life.

As you contemplate your future, we want you to know that we are proud of you. Whilst the journey has not always been easy, the strides that you have made towards maturity and taking ownership of your decisions over the last 18 months or so have been wondrous to watch. You are becoming quite the young man, a witty, intelligent, sensitive (that’s ok, you don’t need to admit that last one) guy who understands the meaning of family and team. We know that no matter how hard Mum [me] tries, her cooking will never match your grandmothers’, but we truly appreciate how you act towards and deal with your grandparents. Then there is the relationship with your brother, a quirky little brother who looks up to you and for whom you look out for, even it if it is on the sly.

We hope you take with you in life the skills you have learned in baseball. One of Mum’s best memories of recent times has been on the drive with you to [XXXX]. Mum will never forget that you discovered live baseball streamed radio together and that she was with you when Albert Pujols made his debut for the Angels. Your baseball talents are many and whilst it has taken a back seat this year because of study, we know that if you want to pour your energies into it, you will succeed. Whether it is as an outfielder or a pitcher the baseball world is yours for the taking. But above all, we hope that you keep having fun with baseball.  Remember, no matter what T-shirts or baseball caps Mum wears, it’s Red Sox forever and we WILL get back to Fenway one day in the not too distant future.

So, as you approach the HSC and the culmination of 13 years of schooling, all we ask of you is that you approach these next six months with a view to doing your best and being the best you can possibly be. The final result doesn’t matter as long as you have done your very best. We say this because whilst the HSC is important, life will throw you bigger tests. The mark of a true man is how he faces these tests – results are always secondary. You should obviously aim to achieve the mark you need in the HSC for your chosen field of university study and put all your energy into that aim. However, the HSC is not the only gateway to achieving your academic goals, there are other less direct ways. The HSC gateway though is the one where you play centre stage, where you receive the maximum support and mentorship and takes the least amount of time. J, the HSC is both a test and an opportunity and we hope you see it as such.

Whatever you decide to do after school, we want you to be happy. Look inside yourself and identify your passions, the things that make your soul sing and follow the path where these shall lead. Live YOUR dreams and no-one else’s. For this, J is THE secret to happiness and fulfilment.

For the journey over the next six months, take with you our (and your brother’s) support, cheering from the sidelines and most of all, our love. Think big and dream large, your options are many. Thank you for being our son, for adding your uniqueness to our family. Thank you for making us laugh and keeping us on our toes. Thank you for being responsible and for (the most part) being a good example to your brother. Thank you for texting your Mum at 12.06am on new year’s eve to wish us happy new year on our first new year’s eve apart. These are the fundamentals that will make you the good man you are destined to be. You rock (even if your music sucks!).

We love you always

And the response? “It was good”. Three little words with such power that had me soaring.

What message would you send in similar circumstances?

Let’s Phlog Monday: Farewell to Autumn (Fall)

I can feel your excitement and anticipation all the way from down here.

You lucky people in the northern hemisphere springing your tanning lotion, flip-flops, bathers, tank tops and beach towels from their winter confinement. Of course we Aussies wear flip-flops (we call them thongs) all year around. Actually, most of don’t but it’s what we have you believe because we put the casual in laid back.

I’m reading all of these fantastic posts about the start of summer and Memorial Day weekend and thinking about our cold winter ahead.

Now, stop laughing my wonderful readers who live in Britain, United States and Canada. Yes, we don’t have snow where I live and yes, the cold really only lasts for three months of the year. But you see, my idea of cold is anything less than 20 degrees celsius  (68 degrees Fahrenheit) and it looks like we are going to be in for a cold one.

So I’m warming up my hot chocolate, pulling on my woolen scarf and hoping to tantalize you with these pictures of late Autumn along the east coast of New South Wales. Mother nature at her colour palette best.

LEAF PILES BEGGING TO BE PLAYED IN

PREPARING FOR DORMANCY

CONSERVING TO SURVIVE

 


What’s your favourite season?

Saturday Soapbox: Keeping It Real With Role Models

True it is that it is Sunday morning here, but in cyberspace everyday lasts 48 hours and it’s still Saturday somewhere – hello to all my West Coast US readers!

Earlier this week, I wrote about Nigella Lawson and how she seemed real to me as a domestic goddess. Nigella is in stark contrast to Martha Stewart who is about as real to me as a set of silicone implants. I am not talking about Martha’s appearance rather her approach to domesticity. With all due respect to Martha and her followers there is no way I am spending two hours a day folding my towels and sheets so that they form colour coordinated, scented sentinels at the ready. My linen cupboard, as a place for storing functional material, is a semi-organised lucky dip.

This got me thinking about the role models I have had and the women who have been seemingly trotted out to me as role models during my life. As most of you know, I am in my 40’s. I have read various articles which place the year of my birth anywhere in the late Baby Boomer category to the early Gen X basket and if that were not already confusing enough within something called “Generation Jones”. What is Generation Jones? I regard myself as a Gen Xer but whatever the label, I am amongst that generation of women who were led to believe we could have it all. Just how we were to have it all was the $64 million question.

I have spent my working life in a male dominated industry. When I started my career there were very few women in senior power positions and those who were did not seemingly have it all. They had parts of it, but never the whole box and dice. Even now, some two decades later, the statistics are sadly lacking in terms of senior women relative to the percentage of women in the industry as a whole. I will be upfront and say that I have never placed much credence in the view that there is a glass ceiling. There are a whole lot of reasons as to why the statistics are the way they are that have nothing to do with a glass ceiling – I won’t bore you with those reasons. Let’s just say the statistics are now trending in the right direction, albeit at a pace that is certainly not hare-like.

In all fairness to my industry they have tried to grapple with the lack of senior power women. Some of the measures employed include women’s networking functions, skilling and reskilling seminars for women and even affirmative action. I will be upfront again and say I am not a fan of any of these. The answer to me lies more with a change of culture and attitude towards flexible working practices – an issue, that with an aging population, will increasingly affect women AND men. But’s that’s a whole other blog post.

Time and again, I have sat at these functions listening to these supposed power women role models and thinking that people need to keep it real. There was one female executive who was paraded as a role model who indeed had reached the dizzying heights of corporate success whilst being a mother to three children. What became evident as she spoke was that she had a passel of nannies and other paid help and a schedule that enabled her to sleep four hours a night. Whilst I am very pleased that it worked for her, how many of us can function fully on only four hours sleep a night? I know I can’t. Also how many of us can afford paid help, especially at the start of our careers?

Yet another woman who travelled the world in her corporate guise had been married three times and had the reputation of a pit bull ball breaker. After hearing her story, not only was she not someone who I wished to model myself on, but she was someone with whom I could not identify. In saying that I make no judgement call on the reasons for remarriage/divorce or the state of being divorced. All I know is that it is not something to which I aspire.

Show me a woman who has a successful career, a family, gets at least seven hours sleep a night, is involved in her family’s lives, is personable and approachable and possibly has a bit of baby spit on the shoulder of her business suit and I am on board. I appreciate that everyone is different and that the issue is quite subjective, but it’s important that we keep it real for those that are coming behind us. There is way too much spin in the world already. Maybe the lesson here is that one can’t really have it all.

Right now my hands are fully occupied juggling balls that don’t include a perfect linen cupboard. Maybe by the time the perfect cupboard comes under my radar domestic science will have evolved to a degree where I can have my colour coded scented linen sentinels at the ready in under an hour. One can only hope.

Facebook Spam Party

A couple of days ago ahead of the Facebook IPO I uploaded a post on my Facebook wall about how much my Facebook data was worth in light of Facebook having been valued at US$104billion. It was worth about US$356 according to a website, FBME and I jokingly posted that I wanted the value in cash and not Facebook share options.

Ever since then, my blog SPAM folder has been playing host to a multitude of comments from various, mostly foreign, Facebook profiles. The comments seem intelligent and pointed, but directed at something other than my blog posts and comments to which they are targeted. I appear to be throwing a Facebook SPAM party and didn’t even know it.

Ever the gracious host I must have served up $356 in SPAM refreshments by now. I’d be grateful if you guys could find somewhere else to party. There have been about 30 of you in the last 24 hours alone and not a flatterer amongst the bunch! And not one request for my bank account number or news that a long lost wealthy relative has died and left me millions. Please move on and let the garden variety SPAM sleep in peace – they need their energy for their Viagra. Alternatively, I am sure there are a few Facebook shareholders with share options they wish to unload.

The good news is that WordPress spamware has caught about 98% of the comments, so whilst it’s my party, I don’t feel the need to cry.

I moderated the rest into the trash bin.

Are you having the same issue or am I the only one with the party balloons tied to the gateposts?

Random Acts of Kindness for the Domestically Challenged

I dig Nigella Lawson. I really do. She’s my kind of domestic goddess.

From flikr.com
Saima’s photostream

Firstly, Nigella has a Master’s degree and secondly, she has had a succesful career as a journo, freelance writer and now cookbook author and television star. Most importantly, she seems real. If you ever watch her cooking shows, there’s something about them that makes you think you can do what Nigella does – you can raise children, have a meaningful career, cook interesting and nutritious food, be a real woman with body flaws and still laugh at life. I’m not sure whether it’s the real close, fast moving camera angles or the way Nigella throws in the ingredients with such aplomb and generally without measurement or much genteel preparation, but I think I could do a Nigella… but only just.

You may remember that about a month ago I wrote of my reluctance inability to co-ordinate colour, furniture and furnishings in my home. I’m afraid that nothing has changed in my abilities since.

What has changed though is that in the last couple of weeks I have become the proud owner of a new planter and new bathroom storage accessories in the form of a glass liquid soap dispenser and matching toothbrush holder. The planter appeared whilst I was on my recent road trip and now proudly holds a plant that has since produced two flowers. The bathroom accessories were given to me by an acquaintance who has been in my home many times to replace my plastic objects d’bath.

Two random acts of kindness to help me overcome my domestic challenges. Even the flowering plant seems happy!

I am now wondering whether my domestic happlessnes is so evident for all to see. Seriously, do these wonderful and kind people who gave me these gifts see a need that I haven’t fulfilled? Do they know what my house requires before even I have anticipated its needs? Am I that domestically inadequate that I need people to buy me practical gifts? What’s the message here?

The plastic thingies in the bathroom have worked perfectly fine until now. OK, the container that held the toothbrushes was a little cracked from the time when one son or other used the vessel for soccer practice and the plastic soap dispenser was off the shelf supermarket, circa 2009, but really…what was wrong with them? As for the planter, it has elevated the poor plant off the floor and I am told it catches the water from watering. It does look good and suited to the room it is in.

To these wonderful people who bought me these gifts I thank you. However, I never know how to take practical gifts. Also, it wasn’t my birthday or any special occasion. I don’t mean to be ungrateful but is it just my paranoia and domestic goddess insecurity that thinks there’s a double meaning here?

Whilst I ponder this question, I think I’ll whip up a quick batch of Nigella’s Instant Chocolate Mouse and go contemplate my antidomestic goddess afterlife.

I have to ask …. how do you feel about practical gifts?

Introducing Let’s Phlog Mondays…And Some Mood Music

Mondays, what use are they, really?

Mondays just can’t relax, they have to come at you a million miles an hour and then bammmm, smack you in the face. And if that’s not enough, Mondays like to announce their presence somewhere around 4pm Sunday afternoon to enhance your pleasure.

However, I do have some sympathy for Mondays. Mondays have one of the hardest gigs around as Saturdays and Sundays are such hard acts to follow. Mondays are the boot camp sergeants of the week constantly barking and getting us back into the routine to prepare us for the week ahead.

Feeling a bit manic?

Tell me why, folks…

What’s on your mind on Mondays?

Now that I’ve buttered you up with some Monday mood music, I’m here to introduce…Let’s Phlog Mondays. Every Monday I will feature a photograph of my world. I am just starting to experiment with camera apps and my city and country contain some wonderful photogenic subject matter. Hopefully some of the pictures will connect with you or otherwise cause you to have a reaction of some sort…whether good or bad. They might even take the manic out of your Monday and bury those Monday blues.

Welcome to a slice of my world and Let’s Phlog Mondays.

I took this with a simple smart phone camera app. No gimmicks, no edits. This is the photo in the raw. I simply love this capture…a case of being in the right place at the right time. This was taken about 5.00pm in mid May in a town called Yamba which is located in the Northern Rivers region of New South Wales, Australia. I was walking along the banks of the Clarence River when the sun started to set. The town has an amazing caravan park which shares this view. It was located behind me as I was taking the photo.

One word describes this photo:

PEACE

Hope your Monday is peaceful.

Saturday Soapbox: Taking Responsibility And Owning It

Here I am feeling all mellow and inspired from my road trip only to read about this piece of litigation lunacy.

Briefly, a Victorian student (let’s call her R) is suing her former high school in Geelong for failing to provide adequate academic support to enable her to gain entry into a prestigious law school in Sydney. In addition, R’s mother is suing the school for compensation for rent and loss of income from her fortune cookie business as a result of relocating to Sydney. R claims that she never felt adequately supported academically whilst at the school to enable her to REALLY excel. R was allegedly criticised for using words that were too long in her essays which lead to R losing confidence in her essay writing abilities. This loss reportedly caused R to become “quite distressed” when her English marks began to fall.

Created by Theodore Eadman
Law School Memes

Entry into this particular law school requires a student to effectively rank in the top 0.3% of all students in the State. Places are highly sought after and the university has produced some of Australia’s greatest jurists. However, it is by no means the only law school in Sydney and certainly not the only law school in the State.

With the greatest of respect to R, she is in denial, and no… it is not that river in Egypt.  I know what R must be thinking, this must be someone’s fault, right? There has to be someone to blame, someone has to pay because R’s life plan didn’t work out to the letter?

Somehow, somewhere along the way, we as individuals seem to have lost the art of owning the consequences of our actions. The notion that we are the masters of our own destiny seems to have been usurped by a notion that our destiny is controlled by those persons and institutions with whom we have had contact, particularly those with potentially deep pockets. These persons and institutions have somehow adopted a greater responsibility to us than we have for ourselves.

I have long been concerned about the current trend to constantly reward our children for just being. When my sons were in primary school they received merit awards for “being entertaining members of the class” and “for faultless class attendance”. Whilst they also received merit awards for good behaviour and academic achievement, I found these aforementioned “token” merits disturbing. To me there was nothing meritorious about them – they served no real purpose other than to enforce a sense of entitlement. Positive enforcement is one thing, but rewards should be reserved for achievement over and above the norm (including a person’s individual norm).

There are no guarantees in life and no guarantees to entry into law school or indeed, university. Entry is handed out on academic merit and students should not feel entitled to a place. It takes hard work, persistence and sometimes a detour or two before you get to where you want to go.  And sometimes, there is just no logical reason why a person makes it or doesn’t make it. Call it bad luck, bad timing or whatever….sometimes crap happens. Crap does not necessarily justify a legal remedy.

The case continues in August.

In the meantime, I leave you with these relevant fortune cookie sayings:

The world may be your oyster but it doesn’t mean you’ll get its pearl

Skill comes from diligence

Do not mistake temptation for opportunity

None of the secrets of success will work unless you do

And remember, dear readers ….this blog has a protective coating.

Have there been any court cases that have left you scratching your head?

Tawny’s blog and Tawny’s posts always carry a meaningful message and this one is no exception. I love Tawny’s outlook and so am reblogging this.

I came across a couple of wonderful sayings recently:
“Everything you want in life is on the other side of fear and discipline.”

“You can’t heal what you don’t confront”

Yes, yes a thousand time yes – to both!

So that said, what would I ask my fears if I invited them to dinner? “What is the essence of you that makes you so gripping?”

Can’t wait for the further instalments in Tawny’s Fear Act series.

thetawny's avatarThe Tawny's Blog

How does fear manifest itself in your life?  How do you deal with it once you recognize it? 

In Fear Act I, I shared a scenario to illustrate the sneaky nature of fear as it related to my attachment to my first baclofen pump.

I hadn’t expected the piece to mirror any relationship where fear creeps in, but was pleasantly surprised by the development because it does work the same way with everything.

We give others our personal power often in relationships.  Much the same way I gave my personal power to my first pump.  This is also what happens in depression, addictive behavior and with those who go from relationship to relationship.

Why do we do give away our power?  We do it for any number of reasons—insecurity, low self-worth, the belief that we need something or someone else to “complete” us, avoidance of looking inward, etc. 

Your…

View original post 498 more words

The Getting of Wisdom Road Trip

Confucius said:

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is the noblest; Second, by imitation, which is the easiest; and Third, by experience, which is bitterest.

Confucius was a smart guy. He obviously thought about stuff. Far be it for me to improve on Confucius, but I think that the third method of learning should not be the bitterest, but the bittersweetest (assuming that’s a word). To me learning always has an element of sweetness even if the lesson is forced upon you, because you have come away with something. The process may be unpleasant, the result not so much.

I am going on a road trip, something that I love. Living in a big city, there are not many occasions where I just get to drive on the open road, listening to music and savouring my inner dialogue. It’s one of my ways to get perspective, experience the new and possibly unexpected and see some of this great country. Here’s to the getting of wisdom through door number 1.

On this trip, I will be travelling to Queensland…..beautiful one day, perfect the next…. to visit a friend. I feel doubly lucky with this one, because at the end of the trip there will be more getting of wisdom though some much needed girlfriend therapy – open doors number 2 and 3!

Everyone needs to do something daily that feeds their soul. It can be something as simple as taking 20 minutes to get out of the artifice of air-conditioning, looking at flowers, breathing deeply, whatever…. I never used to make time to do that, thinking I was always too busy or that the feeding had to come through some grand, complex experience.

Now, it’s the single most important thing I do daily. My family relies on me to be there for them. I am the root, they are the tree. If the root is not healthy and fed, neither is the tree. It is my responsibility to ensure I get fed, other people can feed me, but they do not have an obligation to … they can be unreliable, even with the best of intentions and love in the world. A well fed, healthy root system gives back abundantly – more fruit, more shade, and more structure.

Love this – thanks zazzle.com.au

I’m leaving the males in my family behind as the guardians of the castle and can only hope that they don’t run out of paper and cordial. What’s that saying again about absence and heart fondness…?

The curtain raising bus is hitting the highway and is looking forward to coming back with some road trip widsom.

Happy mother’s day to all of the mum’s out there!!