What The Cats And Dogs Say

It’s been an interesting week. To start with, I think this is quite possibly the fifth blog post I’ve written, having discarded the last four. One because I sounded too angry that nobody had had the decency to buy our house yet, one because I was talking about having to get rid of things again, one for some other reason which I can't remember, and one because I only got two sentences into it before getting bored.

Perhaps the struggle to write a half decent post shows more about the frame of mind we’re in at this moment of our adventure process, than any actual entry. Steve and I are so eager to get started in the new stage of our lives that it gets a little tedious at times having to wait around for the world to catch up with us and our plans.

The good news is, however, that the man is back from doing our first official house-sit (on his own because, of course, I needed to stay here and look after our house - that nobody has, as yet, had the decency to buy).

The even better news is that the house-sit was a definite success. The full and glowing review we received for his work is posted on our site, but as a person who has always believed actions should never be overlooked, I think the response of the retired greyhound he cared for is priceless.

As arranged, Steve finished the sit and left the house and pets late afternoon. He and all the animals had got on really well over the three weeks, but Steve and gorgeous greyhound had struck up a real bond during their walks to the park, games of chasey and regular eye-drops.

Later that evening, long after Steve had returned to our home, the owner arrived back to her home and pets. After an exciting three weeks traveling the world she was met at the car by her energetic greyhound, who followed her into the house. However, then, instead of staying with her to play and make a fuss of each other, he instantly left her alone and raced back out to the garage to hunt for Steve!

Such a lovely and insightful story.

To find out the unexpected effect he had on the cats he cared for as well, check out the review in full.

And, if that wasn’t enough to prove things are now heading in the right direction, our house is finally ‘Under Offer’! (Yes, there is at least one decent person out there.)

Please feel free to keep your fingers crossed for us that the offer goes through.

What Do Your Choices Say About You?

How much space do all your essentials for living take up?    
 
   A three metre by three metre room?
   A two metre by one metre shed?
   A kitchen cupboard?
   A backpack?
   Smaller?
   Larger?

Many years ago after we became bankrupt, I wrote an article in which I said that everything you really need in life fits within your arms, and backed it up with a photo of me holding my husband and our two young daughters. I still believe that, and probably always will. But what if you had a little more say in what you got to keep and what you let go of – how much space would you need then?

Recently there was a television show about the new trend of Tiny Homes, and the person moving into one was told all their essentials (in other words, everything they were taking with them) had to fit in a metre square drawn on the ground.

A bit later on a quiz show, contestants were asked to list essentials needed in every home. To which one person answered, ‘television.’

Maybe it’s because we’re in the process of down-sizing and deciding what’s really essential to us that these two situations seemed so extremely opposite. But, I found myself asking, ‘How would you manage to find space in a one-metre square for a television, when the space already contained basic clothing, kitchen equipment, heirlooms, everyday requirements, photos, and so on?’ Who knows, though, maybe there’s no conflict – maybe it all makes perfect sense and it’s just my priorities that are of whack?

Either way, it made me think about my life priorities… again! Not my everyday requirements for living, but my everyday requirements for being.

When we define what our true priorities in life are, I think it clearly defines who we truly are in all aspects of life. That is, of course, if we’re honest with ourselves and choose entirely for ourselves, not being swayed by other people’s views, expectations and nudges.

My priorities, surprise, surprise, all revolve around writing and family.

What about you?
Can you list your five main priorities in life?
Any surprises in your answers?

A Rubbish Dare

 

If you had to put out a full rubbish bin each week, could you do it?

I know we all, at times, put out bins that are completely full, after the Christmas party perhaps or a weekend when we actually got around to finally doing all that pruning. In fact, if you have a full family at home, chances are you put out a full bin more weeks than not, but what if there were only one or two of you living in your home?

Could you do it on a regular basis?

There’s no doubt that most of us have too many things, but (as I probably say too often) there’s a difference between knowing we’re hoarding too many old, unused things bought in a sale, and actually throwing them out.

Still this is a challenge Steve and I have set ourselves – put out a full rubbish bin each week. This now means I’m rummaging around every weekend to find things it’s not worth selling or recycling, eager to avoid the possibility of a last minute rush and having to hire a rubbish skip because I wasn’t tough enough with myself earlier. The irony in it is that not so long ago we had a humungous pile of bits stacked next to our bin that we never thought we’d get of in time.

My question again therefore is, could you put out a full rubbish bin each week?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be a question, but a dare. That way you can start clearing out the junk you’re hoarding before you have to and while it could still be fun.

Hmm… this brings to mind all those Spring Cleans I carefully avoided.
Do you think there could possibly be such a thing as Penance for Spring Cleans Past…

Then and Now

I’ve always thought that an insightful question to ask at autobiography workshops is ‘How was your milk delivered as a child?’

The responses it brings are so diverse. Stories about jugs being left by the farm gate for the milkman to fill at dawn, visions of frozen milk sticking out the top of glass bottles being pecked at by early morning birds, recollections of milk floats being driven around streets at teatime with milk delivered in cardboard cartons, and all kinds of tales in between. Every decade and lifestyle has its own version of the seemingly commonplace and everyday occurrence. The responses to this one simple question indicate family structure, income, location, community, time frame, chores, and so much more.  

Up until now I’ve never really felt that there’s another autobiographical question that in itself shows so much about a person’s life. But, as of this week, that changed. I now have a question that I think is on par.

'And that question is?’ I hear you ask.

‘How did you stay in touch with your family when you first moved out of home?’

With Steve off house-sitting and our daughters off being adults, this past week was the first time in thirty years that I have (as far as I can remember) lived on my own and had nobody to look after! Quite an interesting week I can tell you (on all kinds of levels). One of the many things it brought to my attention was the differences between my leaving home and what it’s like to do it now.

Back in 1985, when I left the UK and first came to Australia on my Working Visa, the most common way for me to be in touch with home was to write letters and Aerograms. That was mainly because phone calls then cost over a dollar a minute – or over two dollars a minute if you phoned during the day in peak time – and actually seeing somebody on a video chat was, of course, unheard of. In fact, if I were to be honest, even my letters were a little more spasmodic than they should have been.

Now though (with Skype, emails and Facebook, etc) things are so very different – and instantaneous – with letters almost unheard of.

And that’s a change which happened in only thirty years – less than one lifetime!

At the back of my mind, I also have memories of the stories my Grandma used to tell me. Ones when she said travelling to Australia, when she was young, was like going away forever because you’d never know if you’d be heard of again.

The world has got so much smaller over the years, with communication becoming easier, quicker, and more affordable (if occasionally more technical), while milk deliveries have become less commonplace and less interesting.

Just one more thing in life we’ve accepted, I guess, and taken for granted.

So, for the autobiographical writers and contemplators among you, how about this for a thought for today, ‘How did you stay in touch with your family when you first left home, and what does it say about you?’