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Birthdays

9 September, 2015 by Vicki Leave a Comment

Today I celebrate my husband Dohn’s birthday.

I say “I”, because he is only participating in the celebrations under sufferance. (Or so he says. :-) ) Despite this being a “-ty” birthday, and therefore a “big one”, he has refused any fuss. I was allowed to make him his favourite Almond Puff Pancakes for breakfast, and his mother was allowed to take us out for coffee and cake this afternoon. He even permitted me to take him out for dinner at Nunzio’s, a fabulous new Italian restaurant in Fremantle.

It’s been quiet, but he’s had a good day, which is the main thing.

In the wake of our — er — “discussions” about how we would celebrate his birthday (he most emphatically did not want a party, or even to go out with family), I started to consider the nature of birthdays in general.

Those major milestones in particular, that end-of-decade punctuation we apply with deliberate, dreadful regularity throughout the span of a person’s life, can be somewhat confronting. I mean, forty sounds so much older than thirty-nine. Fifty sounds so much older than forty-nine. And sixty? Heaven forbid.

One wonders, should we even continue to keep count?

Yet, incomprehensible as attaining such an age may have seemed to us when we were kids and even as younger adults, we all aspire to reach these very milestones, every single one of them. After all, the alternative holds even less appeal.

On birthdays, we do what we can to make those whose birthday it is feel special. We’re so happy about their very existence! And in that sense it’s as much about us as it is about them. We want to express how glad we are. When we pare it down, birthdays are the anniversary of the day on which a person was born, a celebration of the fact they are alive. We make it a point to note the passing of each year because we are thankful for every one of them, and we think it a worthwhile exercise to stop and mark the day by openly acknowledging our gratitude for them.

I can’t help feeling that birthdays are probably more important to mothers than to anyone else. Other than the birthday child (whatever their current age), mothers have by far the most intimate experience of the actual birth. It’s the mother and her baby that endure the physical trauma and the emotional upheaval that accompany it. But the mother, unlike her child, actually remembers the occasion, usually with vivid clarity. On my kids’ birthdays, I celebrate their lives but I also recall their individual births, each unique to the them and to me. Each was a momentous and miraculous occasion and truly worth celebrating every year — in fact, every day!

I know, because she told me, that Dohn’s mother remembers his birth like it was yesterday. I know, because it was in her card to him, that she is grateful for every year of his lifetime. Birthdays are an extra-special special occasion for mothers.

The perspective of the child is quite different of course, but I also want to celebrate the births and lives of my parents, who gave me my own life. And I want to similarly honour every single person who is important to me. Their lives matter, and birthdays are the traditional, accepted occasion for me to articulate what I already know and hope they do too, which is how very glad I am that they are alive.

While we don’t theoretically need a special occasion for this, the reality is often that birthdays provide a useful prompt, especially when we have been drowning in the stresses of everyday life.

I feel so badly for those who don’t have anyone to celebrate their special day with them, even when they don’t themselves appear to mind. While my hubby, and my Dad too, for that matter, would prefer not to make a fuss on birthdays, I know they both do appreciate that others care. Those of us with family and friends to care about, who care for us too, are truly fortunate.

So birthdays, I feel, are very much about gratitude for life, and for family and friends, and give us an occasion on which to make a particular point of showing it.

I want to celebrate! What do you think?

Filed Under: Life, Vapour

I love Perth

1 September, 2015 by Vicki Leave a Comment

I love Perth.

Scarborough Beach. In summer, we like to go for a dip before the day gets too hot.

Far North Queensland was very beautiful, too, of course, albeit in a very different way.

Millaa Millaa, from the McHugh Lookout.

But Perth’s beauty is special to me, because Perth is home.

Life in FNQ had its challenges. Nothing to do with the place, or the people — both were wonderful. But certain circumstances made things very difficult at times. That, however, doesn’t stop me from being grateful for the many wonderful experiences that arose from living in the region. I barely knew where it was before we moved there, and I am pretty sure I would never have visited of my own accord. I was to discover it’s an amazing place, and we made some amazing friends. So I’m grateful for that.

But I’m also grateful to be home.

Over a year later, not unsurprisingly, a few things have changed. We moved, and moved again. We are now ensconced in a pleasant apartment a hop, skip and a jump from the Swan River, south of the city. I’m a North of the River gal, but soon learned my way around and we’ve settled in pretty well. When things become dreary within these walls, as things inevitably do regardless of how pleasant the surrounds, it is a simple matter to don my sneakers and my camera, or hop on my sexy Dutch bike, Mathilde, and head down to the river for a breath of fresh air and a reviving vista.

Mathilde at Applecross Jetty, looking across to the city of Perth on one of my rides along the Swan River.

We can also take our evening meals to any number of vantage spots within easy distance, and watch the sun set.

Sunset at Trigg Beach.

The city of Perth at dusk, from Kings Park.

We travelled to Singapore and spent a happy few days being tourists, with a little business thrown in. What a wonderful place! We absolutely loved it (mmmmm food!) and had the time of our lives. (After, of course, our honeymoon in Papua New Guinea, which was just The Best.)

Selfie taken in a cable car descending to Sentosa Island which can be seen behind me.

Selfie on the cable car to Sentosa, Singapore.

One of the highlights of the year has been my graduation from my year-long Health Coaching course at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition (IIN) in May. This course was absolutely amazing in terms of personal development, not to mention learning how to be a Health Coach of course. It was also wonderful in terms of meeting so many other like-minded people, both online and in real life. This extends not just to fellow students and graduates, but to clients as well. I really enjoy the company of others, but I tend to be a solitary soul. In health coaching, the planets have aligned to bring something very special and rewarding into my life.

And, I became a grandmother. One of the things for which I’m most grateful is to have been around for my daughter, throughout her pregnancy and afterwards. And, of course, to be able to see my grandson Anthony, who at just three months old has already grown and developed at an incredible speed. It’s such a joy to watch him grow into a real little person with his own special personality.

My grandson Anthony at 12 weeks, smiling at his grandfather off-camera.

My grandson, Anthony.

Of course it’s amazing to be around the rest of my family, too. My two boys have grown into wonderful young men, and it’s definitely a blessing to be near my parents again. Yet, I think I will always have that adventurous itch, that yearning for extraordinary experiences. But this is still a time of healing after the rough time I had in FNQ and, for now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

I love Perth.

Filed Under: Life Tagged With: Perth, western australia

Going home

6 July, 2014 by Vicki Leave a Comment

We’re going back to Perth! To live! Yay!

Most people are not aware of just what a… challenge… this last 2½ years have been for me and I still feel no need to dwell on that. It’s enough for now that I’m going home.

I am looking around the house, Frogmore, with a kind of detachment. It is choc-a-bloc with packing boxes and littered with rubbish to take to the tip. I’m contemplating what to do with all the yummy goodness in the fridge and freezer that I’ve prepared with so much love — and time. (My bone broth! My ferments! My sauces! Sob.)

I’m listening to the birds, and I look outside to see them flitting about. It’s an amazing, beautiful, sunny day today and the property is at its best.

View of the rainforest with a blue sky overhead

Taking in the view from the balcony during our last few days at Frogmore.

I’m remembering a time when we intended to stay here for the foreseeable future, and the plans we had for renovations and landscaping and furnishings. It seems so far in the distant past! I remember looking out on the beautiful view and getting a buzz from the sheer privilege of living amongst it. It was a time of hope, but I can only look back and see the journey I’ve undertaken unfold, like a story in a book, and marvel that it happened to me.

Well, back to packing — this time next week we’ll be home.

Filed Under: Life Tagged With: FNQ, Frogmore, moving interstate, Perth, Queensland

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