tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55242793971027582602024-03-12T23:27:05.382-07:00Midlife MattersA humorous and insightful column about the challenges and adventures of middle aged people, 45-55years young!Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-34819314408099327242013-01-01T05:02:00.001-08:002013-01-03T02:55:03.545-08:00A Bucket Full of Dreams<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The year 2013 offers a wide, open vista of possibilities.
At this fresh new beginning of another year, take out your pen and write your
Bucket List.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What’s a ‘bucket list’? And why is it so important to
tick the boxes?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was only in my mid-30s when he said it. But I remember the
comment now, 20 years later. My old friend Jim was vibrant and brimming with
fun and outlandish schemes in his mid-60s when he made the emphatic statement:
“It’s a crime to go a whole lifetime and not travel and see this world, this
beautiful planet, we are born on.”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jim’s statement struck a chord because I felt the same
restless yearning, almost a moral obligation, to travel and at that hectic
stage of my life, as a mother raising young children and carving out a career
and community service, I was rooted to my home in Australia and travelling the
world was an impossible dream. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But I have always treasured the advice of my English friend
Jim, who had left home at 15, faked his age and joined the navy to see the
world, and later became a dynamic promoter bringing the famous stars of the 60s
and 70s to culture-starved Australia, and died a very happy man after a full,
exciting life of adventure, passionate love for his wife and family and
significant contribution to society.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes travel is one ingredient in a fulfilled life. The desire
to explore Planet Earth is instinctive and runs deep in the human psyche. In
fact extensive new UK research confirms it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Research from funeral director CPJ Field & Co,
commissioned to identify the life ambitions of Britain’s population, reveals
that 20 million (42 per cent) people have either already prepared their Bucket
List or are planning to write one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A ‘Bucket List’ is an idiom for the list of things you would
like to achieve or dream of doing before you die, that is ‘kick the bucket’.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Topping Britain’s Bucket Lists is world travel, as the most
popular choice among those aged 18-44 (7.8 million) as well as the over 45s
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Other popular aspirations include seeing children married or
settled down, getting married, learning to speak a foreign language, having
children, swimming with dolphins and visiting Disneyworld. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Other findings reveal how family traditions, such as skills
and heirlooms, continue to be passed down between generations. Photographs and
paintings are the most commonly inherited items, followed by jewellery and
ornaments, crockery or glassware, recipes and seasonal holiday traditions. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mirroring the sentimental value placed on inherited items
and traditions by previous generations, today’s families have a similar wish
list to pass down to future generations. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In today’s consumer culture, it’s reassuring to see that
life’s enriching experiences rather than material possessions are proving most
popular amongst all ages. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jeremy Field, Managing Director at CPJ Field & Co
funeral services, commented, “As a family owned and managed company, we have
been fascinated to see that richness of life and experience is the top priority
of today’s society, with a huge importance being placed on the legacy left to
family and friends. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Playing a key role in the cycle of life, we are often privy
to the most personal details of a person’s life achievements and wishes for the
next generation. The findings of the research mirror the conversations we have
about the journey of life and we feel privileged to carry out the final
requests of so many.”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The heart’s desires for all human beings are not that
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are two more ingredients along with travel in the
potent mixture of fulfilment; contribution to others, that is making a positive
difference, and love and connection with family and cherished friends.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pioneering Developmental Psychologist Erik Erikson expanded
Freud’s work on early developmental stages into the whole of the lifespan and
claimed that the challenge of middle adulthood is achieving ‘generativity’ over
self-absorption. The term he coined means cultivating an ability to look beyond
your needs and material gain to deep concern for future generations and the
betterment of the world.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If a person in midlife shifts focus to making a difference
then he or she will enjoy the triumph of integrity over despair in old age.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We see middle-aged and older people thriving when they use
their lifetime of experience and wisdom to mentor younger people as counsellors
or sports coaches or lavish patient love on grandchildren or volunteer in
community, environmental or humanitarian causes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We witness the failure of generativity in grumpy old men who
sit alone, hunched in their armchair of misery, bitterness and depression,
complaining endlessly of aches and pains, regrets and grievances to
long-suffering wives.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The solution is under their nose: to find some useful way to
take the focus off themselves and contribute to others. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet if interests and hobbies outside the box of work
have not been cultivated prior to retirement it is more challenging to develop
new habits when the security of the nine to five routine ends. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And there is a gender difference here. In general, women are
better at pro-actively managing life outside work; creating a comfortable home,
looking after their health, organising a social life with family and friends,
taking on new hobbies and interests, booking holidays and volunteering.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In long-term marriages we see a familiar pattern of the
vibrant wife who constantly cajoles an obstinate husband to take on new
projects and keep involved with family and friends. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It can end badly, with the frustrated wife giving up on him
or the bickering belligerence continuing into old age and a finale of despair;
unless the grumpy old man comes to his senses and embraces generativity. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is generally difficult for elderly widowers or men left
on their own through divorce to find the inner resources to meet Erik Erikson’s
challenge. But they know deep inside it’s true. We all need to tick the boxes
on our bucket list before kicking the proverbial rusty tin can, as a measure of
a life well-lived. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just as the terminally-ill, crusty old blokes in the
endearing 2007 movie <i>Bucket List</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
discover when they break out of the hospital and set off on a crazy road trip,
fulfilling heartfelt dreams leads to healing, love and joy. </span></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-90457649446459296962012-01-10T14:27:00.000-08:002014-01-13T07:12:37.164-08:00Turning 50, the Great Divide<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvI38d87siOUR3wwJ-_yTuI8jODSthL9RzCVlXHLqnlE_0gsHgM842_c_oTybvd_Xkl63PdGoCS5s_WOyB8OZGwihhcsss8M4eJREYEaBcG6c6ExW1urHiNqhN7SoJ6uJk3ABLkJlMuk/s1600/192645728_38087dc179_t.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696134245690352530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvI38d87siOUR3wwJ-_yTuI8jODSthL9RzCVlXHLqnlE_0gsHgM842_c_oTybvd_Xkl63PdGoCS5s_WOyB8OZGwihhcsss8M4eJREYEaBcG6c6ExW1urHiNqhN7SoJ6uJk3ABLkJlMuk/s320/192645728_38087dc179_t.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 75px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 100px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">My daughter’s boyfriend’s Dad just turned 50, celebrating with not one but two spectacular parties with hundreds of guests. He even jumped out of a plane, thanks to the surprise skydiving present from his kids!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Turning 50 is a big deal, a major milestone. Of course all birthdays with a zero on the end are significant as they mark entry into a new decade of your life but somehow 50 represents the Great Divide, a sharp line between young and old has definitely been crossed.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Fifty means you have lived for half a century on the planet, witnessing half a century of world history. Now that is something! You have definitely seen some sights, experienced euphoric highs and anguished lows, learned some stuff and clocked some serious miles on the Journey of Life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">And somehow you sense with trepidation that you are entering new territory. You are no longer at the beginning of the exciting Journey, all innocent, fresh and perky with your packed lunch just setting out. No you are somehow weary and jaded and a little vulnerable from Life’s knocks, facing the homeward trek. Yes, you have just entered the latter stage of life. Some of us optimists, hopeful of living to 100, imagine we are in the ‘Second Half’ of life!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">How does the 50 Milestone compare to turning 40? Many people face 40 with dread, believing they have reached the plateau of Life’s mountain and ‘It’s all downhill from here’, with body parts falling off, as all those humorous birthday cards like to gloat about!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">But I recall being full of bravado, celebrating this pinnacle in grand style (with the Mayor and honoured guests no less). I saw myself at the peak of my maturity but still youthful, attractive and vibrant, popular and in demand, full of ambition and new projects, still raising kids and racing around in top gear.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">My midlife crisis came at 47 as I approached the Big Five-Oh with rising panic. I didn’t buy a motorbike or get a tattoo. Instead I took off for New York to live out a lost fantasy as a carefree single. Needless to say it ended in tears. I returned to my marriage and picked up the shattered pieces.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Perception of age is subjective and depends on where you are perched on the lifespan. When we are children, teenagers or even in our 20s, it is impossible to imagine ever being 50. It is just too far off in the distance. And anyone over 30 is ancient. When you are young and beautiful, all wrinkly people with grey hair and glasses are seen as “elderly”, one murky blur with no distinctions between 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s; they are just a generic group of geriatrics!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">When I was 39 I wrote a heartfelt newspaper column lamenting my age, how everyone in the newsroom was suddenly younger than me. My feisty 82-year -old yoga teacher was indignant and reprimanded me in front of the whole class. “How dare you claim you are old!”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Whatever our age, we will always be younger or older than someone else. The eight-year-old is indeed older than her five-year-old brother. As the profound poem Desiderata advises: “If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter. For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">How old you perceive yourself internally is another matter. Baby Boomers, the generation born 18 years after the Second World War, between 1946 and 1964, generally perceive themselves as 15 years younger than their chronological age. The generation who were teenagers in the radical 60s and 70s have a tough time ageing, clinging desperately to youth, still loading up the van and heading for Glastonbury!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Now what does Desiderata says about clinging to youth? “Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.” Might be wise to give up wearing skin-tight hipster jeans and partying to 3 am. Rather get to bed before midnight!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">In the book <i>Facing The Fifties</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, author Peter A. O’Connor says it takes a person five years to 55 to admit they are in fact in their 50s! He says it is essential to move from denial to reflection. He believes we face an inner struggle between the forces of Eros (Life) and the forces of Thanatos (Death) and ultimately we must emerge grabbing Life with both hands, with real gusto, not ambivalence.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Pioneering psychologist Erik Erikson, writing in 1950 – 82, extended the work of Freud and Jung from childhood development into a study of the entire lifespan.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">He claimed that there are eight stages of life with a psychological task or challenge we must face at each stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Middle Adulthood we must embrace ‘Generativity’ over Self Absorption, that is, learn to care for others, our families and communities and sow good seeds into the next generation.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">In Old Age, Erikson says we need to embrace Integrity over Despair and share our wisdom with the world at large. If we fail to become wise elders we risk shrivelling up in isolation with a sense of failure and despair.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Meantime in facing the Great Divide of 50, the blunt fact is you are either getting older or you are dead. Personally I prefer the first option. I am grateful to still be alive at 54 when so many others are less fortunate and have not lived to this age.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">To live every day with gratitude for the wondrous gift of life is the only positive attitude to cultivate in response to the inevitability of ageing.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">I used to take my daughter for riding lessons to a stud farm run by a hardy old horse whisperer and his cheerful wife. I’d say: “How are you Frank?” His eyes would twinkle under his battered cowboy hat and his face would erupt in a radiant smile. “Well I woke up this morning and I was still here!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-6380342662865029762012-01-10T14:16:00.000-08:002013-01-03T02:28:22.746-08:00The Story of My Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0o6O2XKlRsm-0BGABYFW9LcicVYGm0WD77fbDHgLLfd8-TgyP4RDSaf5BotQoCGGxNMdwvkEgDHHc3546S1BxOZYrWSIipUbEY5Vh-kgSL4dHJGhgMsbOrYuklKj71cirWbyoft_FM8/s1600/IMG_7407.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696131701290548130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0o6O2XKlRsm-0BGABYFW9LcicVYGm0WD77fbDHgLLfd8-TgyP4RDSaf5BotQoCGGxNMdwvkEgDHHc3546S1BxOZYrWSIipUbEY5Vh-kgSL4dHJGhgMsbOrYuklKj71cirWbyoft_FM8/s320/IMG_7407.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">When I first went to the optometrist, I was slightly in denial and tried to defend my vanity. “Maybe it’s because I spend a lot of time on the computer and reading big important reports,” I pleaded.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> He was blunt and merciless. “It’s because of your age,”</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> Maybe it’s because I read books in bed in poor light,” I tried again, full of hope.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> “It’s your age, he stated flatly.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> “Well, maybe it’s because….” I continued in a whiny, cutesy-pie voice, like a child trying to prise a chocolate from a strict parent, thinking ‘Can’t he see how <i>young</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I am?’ But his explanation for my failing eyesight came back to one harsh statement.</span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> At 39 I had reached the age, right on cue, when your eyesight weakens, when you need your first pair of reading glasses.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">So I got my first pair of glasses, big gold-rimmed specs in a shiny new case and I turned the blow to my pride to an advantage, realising just how intellectual they made me look! They could actually enhance my image, be a whole new fashion accessory to team with my big gold eye rings, big gold chunky bangle and my big gold belt buckle. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Sitting in council meetings I would seriously place the glasses on my nose to read reports, then strategically remove them to eyeball the Mayor and then carefully place them on the desk with the arms facing outward in a studious flourish. I had practised this impressive movement like Clark Kent changing from street clothes to tights and cape. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">The CEO watched me with amusement. “You’ve got new glasses, haven’t you? Are they your first pair?”</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> “Yes, I demurred, like a blushing virgin. My first time.”</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> My glasses and me went from strength to strength, literally, you know how it goes. Once you’ve succumbed, each year the prescription gets stronger. I worked my way through a succession of funky frames in red, blue, green (that was when I joined the Greens Party) more red, purple, back to red.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> I used my intellectual glasses for close-up reading, sitting at the computer for hours each day and reading magazines and books. My middle and long distance vision was just fine. I could chat to friends, decipher traffic signs, watch a movie and gaze at the horizon across the ocean spec-less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">But I got really tired of the glasses sliding off my sweaty nose in the humid climate of the Sunshine Coast in Australia where we lived. About this time I started noticing ads for laser eye surgery and enquired with my GP.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Now the Doc was a down-to-earth, sensible little Scot, not fooled by clever marketing. He pointed out that messing with your delicate eyes is quite drastic, that the correction isn’t permanent because your eyes continue to deteriorate with age (there’s that word again!) and how would I cope with ‘mono vision’? Excuse me? Mono vision?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Doc explained, in his heavy brogue, that it meant having one eye corrected for reading while leaving the other eye to handle distance! Yikes, now that put the moggy amongst the pigeons, scattering my thoughts in all directions, because I am easily disorientated and would go quite mad with mono vision. So I dismissed the whole idea of laser surgery and went back to my cosy relationship with my good ol’ reliable specs, even with their annoying habits of sliding off my nose and fogging up.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">But when I got to the ripe old age of 51, my eyesight took a sudden plunge. We were living in London for five months, trying out city life and taking trips in the countryside and then we jumped on a plane and travelled across the States.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Somewhere in Montana my favourite little red glasses snapped and I was forced to wear cheapies that magnified my eyes to spooky proportions. At the same time I suffered a bad hair dye experience and went ginger instead of honey blonde and gained a stone on Denny’s breakfasts. So I wasn’t looking my best but out west no one cared except the poor horse I attempted to ride.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">But I digress. When we returned to Australia the test showed my eyes had deteriorated rapidly. I now needed help with three ‘zones’; close-up reading, medium and long distance. It was getting quite complicated and I invested in powerful, new glasses.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;"> I didn’t like this new dependence. I hated the fact I now had to wear glasses all the time. I had to wear them out to lunch with a girlfriend, to focus on her face in an animated conversation. I couldn’t make unencumbered eye contact. I couldn’t talk to my husband with a naked face. I couldn’t interview people unadorned. Faces became a blur without specs. This was tough for me as I am a real bonder and need direct eye contact.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">I felt self-conscious and embarrassed about my permanent ‘face furniture’.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">My glasses started to really weigh me down. No longer a fashion statement enhancing my intellectual image, they simply said OLD in the cruel tone of that optometrist 12 years ago. Just like grey hair can never say ‘stylish’ but only scream the blunt three-letter word. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">I suffered my specs for two more years, a permanent fixture, like a clingy barnacle, through foggy conversations, headaches and constant irritation. I had fallen out of love.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">Now living in London, I visited the Laser Eye Surgery Clinic and explored that drastic option again. Yet again the prospect of mono vision sent me into a spin. And it turned out my eyesight, with its three zones, was not suitable for the simple Lasik procedure. I would need the more complex Refractive Lens Exchange, implants of artificial multi-focal lenses. However I considered the cost prohibitive (I could do a world trip or install a new kitchen with that money). And, I’ll be honest, the idea of eye surgery still scared me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">So I now have my funky red frames with close and medium range for computer work and reading, my fancy purple frames with close, medium and long distance for reading a menu then going to a West End show, my cool multi-focal, transition lenses that magically turn into sunglasses for walks in the park.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">But still frustrated with wearing glasses for up close and personal conversations, I longed to go bare faced. So I looked into the option of contact lenses. However I was to be disappointed because contacts are good for correcting long distance but not intermediate vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana; font-size: 100%;">So it seems I am destined to wear my specs even as we speak! However such is my vanity and desire to look youthful, they will always come off for the camera! I’m ready for my close-up, Mr De Mille.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana;"><i>PS In April 2012, with patient lessons from a lovely young woman at Spec Savers in Richmond, I mastered the art of inserting and removing contact lenses. I opted for daily disposables and although they are not ideal for reading, they give me middle and long distance for spec-free conversations across a table and clear vision of the stage at a musical show! </i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000066; font-family: verdana;"><i>I can now add them to my array of options, wearing contacts on days out and my glasses at home for reading books and working on my computer! We are fortunate to live in a society and time when we have these choices! </i></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-26313839588236873532012-01-10T13:59:00.003-08:002018-03-29T09:44:46.620-07:00Forever Blonde<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0 , 153 , 0); font-family: "verdana"; font-size: medium;">Social analysts wonder why the Baby Boomer generation looks so young. Is it to do with a healthier lifestyle? Better genes? An optimistic attitude? Cosmetic surgery? The answer is simple and comes in a plastic bottle!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Back in my glory days in my glamorous 30s a rude colleague asked me: “ Is your hair colour natural?” I wish I’d been quick enough with the comeback: “Are your teeth real?” (However I was never quick with comebacks. It usually takes me a week to think of a clever retort!)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blonde mop top, age three</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Yes I was born blonde as all the fading black and white childhood photos prove. There I am with my little blonde mop, actually basin cut (thanks mum!) smiling cheekily from under the crooked fringe. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidgvd9PBwp86_njPl-zjeVoJzgRiiVCY73k_UeqiMHaRwYATR_AhgeJjmIvke1QouO3bbMWIRiJxj9xnFdWdxMhCNO2zqOjW51Zmzi2D03Tlj55yJkgmeyyJ0ZLXYsjyg9mS8SDXarY7k/s1600/2.1969+Diane+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1385" data-original-width="951" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidgvd9PBwp86_njPl-zjeVoJzgRiiVCY73k_UeqiMHaRwYATR_AhgeJjmIvke1QouO3bbMWIRiJxj9xnFdWdxMhCNO2zqOjW51Zmzi2D03Tlj55yJkgmeyyJ0ZLXYsjyg9mS8SDXarY7k/s320/2.1969+Diane+copy.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just 12 years old and growing my hair long</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And in my teenage hippy/surfiechick/folkie days, my unkempt
long blonde mane, parted carefully in the middle, streamed across my shoulders
and down my back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDVqffj4ixNlz61MT_RpxxF8eqAmcA5PPJvqOz53npEYaKrT4-Rz8WfLkr711W_H9qpsT0cvSTZTbteyTTwzz5KgCF7vQCDT71v6-S7_T1_ZWoSjO0HerfKQBFDhPdaKFZl1Eg_a4ofQ/s1600/3+1979+hippy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="643" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDVqffj4ixNlz61MT_RpxxF8eqAmcA5PPJvqOz53npEYaKrT4-Rz8WfLkr711W_H9qpsT0cvSTZTbteyTTwzz5KgCF7vQCDT71v6-S7_T1_ZWoSjO0HerfKQBFDhPdaKFZl1Eg_a4ofQ/s320/3+1979+hippy.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hippy days with long golden locks</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;">Resisting the Dye Pot </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;">And then all through my natural 20s I resisted the dye pot until I hit 30 and resorted to a touch-up of my darkening roots. “Oh it got sun bleached on my holiday!” “Yeah right!” Since that turning point, there’s been agonising streaks, with the merciless hairdresser picking at my scalp like a demented chicken, and then foils, so I felt like I was being prepared for a turn in the oven and finally home jobs, so much cheaper, </span><span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;">with just a few botched slightly orange results!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So now I’m in my 50s I swear I will be forever blonde with future visions of an old lady sporting a blonde ponytail like the tragic ageing starlet who refuses to accept the ravages of time.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 16px;"></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Hair Choices</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Hair. It is a woman’s pride and joy and expression of her femininity, attractiveness and identity. Really it is just filamentous biomaterial that sprouts from the follicles in the dermis to keep our heads warm and protected. But hair is given so much false meaning by human vanity. It is a secondary sex characteristic defining attractiveness for males and females shaped by cultures and changing fashions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">What can we do with hair? How can we differentiate from another woman’s locks? Well our genes will determine the initial colour, blonde, dark or red, whether it’s curly, frizzy or straight, the texture, thickness, volume and rate of growth.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">But we get to choose what we do with it artificially. We can vary the length; short, medium or long. Most women tend to be committed long-haired gals or short-haired gals; those who couldn’t bear wearing their crowning glory above the shoulders and those who couldn’t stand their carefully clipped spikes tickling their necks! The great divide!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Thanks to chemical concoctions, we can alter the colour at whim. Dark-haired women can ponder: “Will I have burgundy highlights or perhaps, chocolate? Blondes can go ash or honey and red-heads can opt for true ginger or rich auburn. And there’s always the purple or green streak for the dye-hard festival-goer!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Perm Madness!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">In the perm-mad 80s we got to ask “Should I go wild and curly?” But really staying smooth and straight was no longer a fashion option. It just wouldn’t go with our shoulder pads, huge dangling earrings and gaudy clothes!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">And if we were taking the plunge for the perm, it meant having our neat all-one-length hair layered! Shriek! What a crime against nature for us silk-haired chicks!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Oh the hair traumas!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"> I remember my first disaster as a sensitive, self-conscious teenager when I allowed a butcher-hairdresser loose on my beloved long hair. She hacked it into a hybrid of the pageboy and the dolly cut. I was mortified. My whole identity was swept away on the salon floor!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1Hn64RYRm4I697IvQvpDvo0xKOwuiXP2GoYuUZKfaQCSZA6fEIcfL3-VtRTmhEAN7gBnsqJFwu_McipBoWDrlZnVaTDoDGbOJzU29TZxovsTgZMEdEcaY-XJzWfcJ8WftFw5RYnV72U/s1600/5+Andrew+%2526+Diane+wedding+Connewarre%252C+Geelong%252C+April+10+1982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1Hn64RYRm4I697IvQvpDvo0xKOwuiXP2GoYuUZKfaQCSZA6fEIcfL3-VtRTmhEAN7gBnsqJFwu_McipBoWDrlZnVaTDoDGbOJzU29TZxovsTgZMEdEcaY-XJzWfcJ8WftFw5RYnV72U/s320/5+Andrew+%2526+Diane+wedding+Connewarre%252C+Geelong%252C+April+10+1982.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perm that went wrong for my wedding day!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">And then I stupidly opted for my first perm for my wedding day! Note to Self, NEVER try a new hairstyle for your wedding! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">My beautiful long blonde hair was layered and frizzed but the perm didn’t take so had to be done again just days before the big event. The perm on perm wrecked my hair and it took two years to grow out. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">I long lamented my wedding photos and wished I’d gone natural.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Greek Influence</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">You would think that disaster would have been enough to put me off perms for life but it was the persuasive Greek hairdresser who talked me around when I was Fashion Editor. “To be honest Diane, your straight hair does nothing for your pretty face. And smooth hair is OUT. BIG hair is IN. You need VOLUME!”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Wow! He wasn’t kidding. I soon had the lollipop head and was introduced to “product”; that gooey gunk we scrunched in our mops every morning to keep the precious volume intact all day! How did we ever hold our heads up?</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvox8sJWmwFD4he9kBo5JToekM1ek3B_SQdfWNt0_RnQ55ujcMF6eigIyEmlQ0xRC9MPd7osFIaRGwxtkQlKOKYy8Vqln6slwaMiL8P7V7RkqpsFaqlekdOQV6CYsR3ig5qI-ySjg28o/s1600/6+1987+Jan+perm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="134" data-original-width="108" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvox8sJWmwFD4he9kBo5JToekM1ek3B_SQdfWNt0_RnQ55ujcMF6eigIyEmlQ0xRC9MPd7osFIaRGwxtkQlKOKYy8Vqln6slwaMiL8P7V7RkqpsFaqlekdOQV6CYsR3ig5qI-ySjg28o/s320/6+1987+Jan+perm.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The compulsory 80s perm!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Long blonde hair for me! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pb9PGPWFKLM-6z82z4AmDhgCZRj-VFRZc-T6CcW6bk7VtWG2TT4HEAU8aDgIQlDxmViWgLRLeNu5S0-6qxWxUEq8FK3Taknzr22UQAMyjVg8oa4Fhh-4iVj78I62jY2aLNiW4rQd8XQ/s1600/7+1993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="982" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pb9PGPWFKLM-6z82z4AmDhgCZRj-VFRZc-T6CcW6bk7VtWG2TT4HEAU8aDgIQlDxmViWgLRLeNu5S0-6qxWxUEq8FK3Taknzr22UQAMyjVg8oa4Fhh-4iVj78I62jY2aLNiW4rQd8XQ/s320/7+1993.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">By my mid-30s I’d recovered from the perming aberration and come to my senses. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">I swore I’d keep my hair long, soft, straight, one-length and yes, blonde, forever blonde. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Hair dye is my open secret to eternal youth.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 100%;">Blunt refusal!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">I refuse to go grey. No matter how much some women claim grey is glamorous or elegant and sophisticated. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Sorry Honey, grey, to me, just screams ‘old’!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dumb Blonde jokes, bring them on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">We don’t need botox and face lifts, boob jobs and liposuction. Just a simple touch up with the <i>Nice ‘N Easy</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> or </span><i>Naturtint</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (without the nasty chemicals) and there’s 10 years knocked off, just like that!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 100%;">Oh yes, remember to stand up straight and smile. Good posture, a face-splitting smile and no trace of grey, keeps us Baby Boomer Chicks forever young!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At 40, proud of my crowning glory</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zZd32qnUxLjipFInd2BKVon2yB-ODPz6TneP-EcLuLtkWEadbcIFPKp3ov5LA0jvIXB-O4acH4tBG1qbCx-OwL-9PbbEASnJ5WcivZ5xGyIE_1V30JlNl7obJFK_7OL7pyPM9Xw3vHs/s1600/9+2004+Diane+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1579" data-original-width="1046" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zZd32qnUxLjipFInd2BKVon2yB-ODPz6TneP-EcLuLtkWEadbcIFPKp3ov5LA0jvIXB-O4acH4tBG1qbCx-OwL-9PbbEASnJ5WcivZ5xGyIE_1V30JlNl7obJFK_7OL7pyPM9Xw3vHs/s320/9+2004+Diane+.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blonde and smart!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXkOve97URRQ0mKCwQUIRc3EUX_7s_gcz_3yc45IDYd6tl2zUNr5BizWnXSgEDv4YYfi6qYGBRH3XLfya7cPjNc6NbNkvLB8g5_JWIZu2kyKf2MUPht9l4rr57rpuOhCOTCWwSl8Vs2s/s1600/10+headshot+Aug+2017+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1289" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXkOve97URRQ0mKCwQUIRc3EUX_7s_gcz_3yc45IDYd6tl2zUNr5BizWnXSgEDv4YYfi6qYGBRH3XLfya7cPjNc6NbNkvLB8g5_JWIZu2kyKf2MUPht9l4rr57rpuOhCOTCWwSl8Vs2s/s320/10+headshot+Aug+2017+copy.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And today? Blondes can change the world!</td></tr>
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Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-81787516789931844902012-01-10T13:31:00.002-08:002012-03-01T00:35:59.860-08:00Rediscovering Fashion Over 50!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrfDE-V-rJrTu8BXAyUiEjjk6UKLcukiTFiCGzFcOdbJ6rsYGJyH6ZX1eIybfBuQruBzU0PIZc3LBrvcdMNKjFYYW3lVhFbmGdB6yojJz6-e9Is0m7y8ra7o91AjeCQ6BwyR52ouOaOE/s1600/DP+Med+Res+formal+half+headshot.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXrfDE-V-rJrTu8BXAyUiEjjk6UKLcukiTFiCGzFcOdbJ6rsYGJyH6ZX1eIybfBuQruBzU0PIZc3LBrvcdMNKjFYYW3lVhFbmGdB6yojJz6-e9Is0m7y8ra7o91AjeCQ6BwyR52ouOaOE/s320/DP+Med+Res+formal+half+headshot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714844572121993170" /></a><br /><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Clothes are a big part of personal identity. They make a statement about who you are. In the book, The Language of Clothes, Alison Lurie, writes: “For thousands of years human beings have communicated with one another first in the language of dress. Long before I am near enough to talk to you on the street, in a meeting or at a party, you announce your sex, age and class to me through what you are wearing – and very possibly give me important information (or misinformation) as to your occupation, origin, personality, opinions, tastes, sexual desires and current mood.”</span></i><br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">I have rediscovered fashion in midlife. As a fan of bright colours, my first request is Don’t Make Me Sad!</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">What is with the latest fashion ‘colour’ being grey? It’s enough to bring on a bad case of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder); the kind of depression caused by constant overcast weather and lack of sunshine. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">I want to have a whinge about current fashions, which are so drab! Haven’t these people heard about colour? You know, remember the primary colours; red, blue, yellow, and the secondary colours; purple, green and orange. Leave the ‘shades’ of black, white and grey for bags and boots, trousers and funerals…please! Okay, I concede you CAN wear black in the evening, ladies!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">A quick lesson on colour: tertiary colours are created when the shades of black, white or grey are added creating a vast spectrum of tones. Add white to primary and secondary colours and you get pastels: pink, aqua, lemon, mint, peach and mauve. Add black to the colours and you get your winter tones, including brown (the rich colour of the Earth and chocolate!) When you add grey (a mixture of black and white) to all six colours, you get <i>neutrals. </i><span style="font-style:normal">Neutrals are almost non-colours, as they neutralise impact.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">It seems current fashion is stuck in neutral, with a dash of grey in everything! Maybe this obsession with grey is expressing the downcast mood of the recession. And maybe if fashion took the lead and we all went back to wearing pure happy colours, it would lift our collective spirits! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Now I have to confess, after an ‘intervention’ from my beautiful, elegant 23-year-old daughter and her friend, that I am forced to give up my addiction to gaudy colours and tone it down. Justine advises me to restrict bright colours to just one item per outfit! She has wisely convinced me to give up zany and aim for stylish. According to Justine too many colours on an old bird look eccentric! So much for colour, what about styles?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">In Pursuit of Real Clothes</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">All these skimpy bits of fabric pretending to be whole garments; Where are the real clothes for the grown-ups, I ask? Is it just me, or do other middle-aged women find it difficult to track down clothes suitable for our age group?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">You know want I mean; remember dresses, actual complete dresses, not just tops and bottoms. For midlife mammas, these rare garments must be substantial; longer than the thigh, past the knobbly knees, with sleeves that cover the arms, at least past those weird-looking things called elbows and not too low-cut because exposing the ample boobs at this age can make grown men regress to hungry infants.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">In Defence of the 80s</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">As Fashion Editor for an Australian daily newspaper in that much-maligned fashion era of the 80s, I feel it is my duty to defend this dubious decade from the ridicule of contemporary fashionistas. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">For the information of everyone under 40, the Eighties were all about vivid colour and excess. It was impossible to be OVER dressed, impossible to be too extreme or too extravagant! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">There was no subtlety in this flamboyant, extroverted era. No time for shrinking violets, thank you. Shy introverts could just hide in the corner until the decade passed. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">The word was BIG: big hair, big earrings, bright eye shadow to accentuate big eyes, big baggy tops draped over big, loose hanging belts. Or you could use big belts to hitch up your big, high-waisted, baggy clown pants. And the obligatory shoulder pads added get-out-of-my-way bulk to gaudy designer dresses and fancy jackets. This was Power Dressing. I swear some 80s sharp-edged shoulders could have sliced through timber. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">It was a fun, celebratory, hedonistic, greedy, grabby Have-It-All era where the bill for the long lunch was courtesy of the Boss and all freebies were gratefully accepted, without a shred of compunction! We might question the ethics of the free-for-all now but the spirit was exuberant and optimistic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">At least independent designers were given ‘a go’, as us Aussies like to say. I remember vigorously promoting many creative young designers with their own thriving businesses selling original garments in our little town. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">An Alternative to Slave Labour</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Such enterprise is not fostered in the new global marketplace of the 21<sup>st</sup> century. In poor countries, workers, mostly women and children, are dehumanised as cheap ‘units of labour’ in factories manufacturing clothing for insatiable, mindless ‘consumers’ in rich countries. We in the developed world just can’t get enough of the cheap merchandise churned out by China.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">I wish we could outlaw slave labour. We all like affordable clothes and don’t want to pay a fortune for designer labels. Perhaps there is some middle ground where independent designers, ethical manufacturers and cottage industries can once again thrive. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">One thing for sure, we need to become more aware and discerning as consumers and start to ask the popularised question “What do women want?” when it comes to clothing. If you ask me, I just want real, substantial clothes with a hint of 80s flamboyance! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">What Do Middle-aged Women Want in Clothing?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">As a woman in my early 50s, I consider four factors when deciding what to wear.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">My first priority is <b>comfort.</b><span style="font-weight: normal"> I must be dressed in clothes of the exact right weight and fabric so I achieve the perfect temperature, not too hot (to bring on a flush) and not too cold (to bring on whinging). Pants and skirts must fit perfectly so they don’t cut into my waist when sitting or feel too tight after a meal! Jackets must also be serviceable with loads of pockets.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Secondly, I dress for the <b>occasion.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> There are six spheres of my life to cover: working and relaxing at </span><b>home</b><span style="font-weight:normal">, being </span><b>sporty</b><span style="font-weight:normal">, being </span><b>outdoors </b><span style="font-weight:normal">in the country or city parks; </span><b>professional day wear</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> for the office, </span><b>dressy day wear</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> for social functions and </span><b>evening wear</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> for nights out. I need different outfits for each of these parts of my life. Like most mature women when I am dressed right for the occasion I feel fantastic! </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">For home, I have a range of smart casuals for working in my home office (I never work in my PJs!) and comfy lounging clothes that switch the brain into relaxation mode and an array of nightwear. I have my collection of sporty clothes for power walking, the gym, swimming and horse riding (Okay, I don’t ride much, but I have the jodhpurs and riding boots under the bed!) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">I have country casuals for weekend trips away exploring the genteel English countryside; a range of smart work wear including an inordinate number of natty jackets, a range of floral dresses for Ascot (I haven’t been yet!) and high tea at the Ritz (I’m all prepared for when the invite comes!) My favourite evening colours are red, purple and essential sexy black for nights out at restaurants, clubs and West End shows. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Thirdly, having moved from the tropics, where the climate varies between hot or hotter, to live in genteel England, I relish the four distinct seasons that transform life every three months. I love to dress for the <b>seasons.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> Like most organised women, I store my stash of off-season clothes in cases under the bed and bring them out with ritual delight, placing them lovingly in the drawers and wardrobe as the new season approaches. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">For spring and summer I go all pastel in light fabrics and pretty wraps and cardi’s with white or cream or navy as a base colour. In autumn and winter, I love to wrap up in cuddly knitwear in deep winter colours with stylish coats, flamboyant scarves and of course a range of sturdy boots and chunky handbags. I like black as a base in the city in winter and earthy brown tones as the base for casual clothes when frolicking in the Great Outdoors in autumn and winter. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Lastly there is the question of <b>style.</b><span style="font-weight:normal"> Clothes must flatter and hide all the floppy bits, like bingo wings and the rounded belly, ample bottom and thunder thighs. Give me three-quarter length sleeves and scooped necklines in tops and dresses made from loose, soft, forgiving jersey that falls kindly over the tummy and swishes to the knees. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Style is all about how you combine an outfit. It is the puzzle that has a woman staring blankly at a wardrobe bulging with clothes, declaring she has ‘nothing to wear’. Style is knowing the right combination of pieces that either match or complement in colour, fabric texture and design. This is where the flair of the artist is required! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Outfits are either one piece, the classic dress (when you ride the Tube, you wonder if it still exists!) or two pieces; a top and a bottom, either pants or a skirt. Middle-aged women eventually realise, through the demoralising experience of squeezing into hipsters, to stick to pants that come up to the belly button! How I used to love my short, tight-fitting pencil skirts in my 30s but these days, I opt for full skirts to the knee!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Underneath, I need a wide colour range of cami’s to wear with low-cut dresses or jackets. Of course I also need a range of colourful knickers and bras for all seasons. In summer, thick, padded bras make me break out in a sweat! So I have to wear thin, light bras!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">But all year round, I don’t feel fully dressed until I step out with a coat, jacket, wrap or cardi, sleeveless jacket (my trusty travel friend, the gilet) open vest or waistcoat for added panache! ‘Outer’ wear gives you a cosy sense of security in the city! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Shoes have been the trickiest item for me to master in London. I have finally settled on flat shoes for the Tube and pounding the city streets, after countless disastrous outings ending in throbbing, sore feet. For a special treat, I opt for small, sensible heels on stylish boots or evening shoes (when I can sit, looking elegant!)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">How can you feel dressed without the right accessories? Winter demands finishing off your outfit with a scarf and gloves and possibly woolly hat when the freezing air nips your ears.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">There’s the essential handbag (a woman’s portable home) containing the essential iphone and glasses, wallet, Oyster card and the rest of the gear (possibly camera and laptop.) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">Jewellery is so personal. Six pieces are enough for me: earrings, necklace, rings on my wedding finger and watch on my left wrist, another ring on my right hand and bangle on right wrist. Optional extras include a fancy hair clip and interesting belt. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;">And that, my friends, is the simple business of putting an outfit together in midlife. A collection of pieces and bits and bobs allows you to invent different combinations each day. Be stylish and stay comfortable at every occasion and through all seasons and always remember to throw in a dash of 80s colour and flair! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-72622509465722934182012-01-06T13:20:00.000-08:002012-01-06T13:25:43.871-08:00The Great Stiletto Conspiracy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrjzseoykP60dQV08wXEVA3pCr6f4CkJmjTOXT0Sy1xLjSrbK7RB5xIabZxJPPJ5oeQu-AvnCploy0_AX7jDhoY85sCAn0qiGJoTUhYdxLaGbSHmUfEO7iGGotQFJhNaPNiaxqHudrSo/s1600/2892908498_3c96136eaf_t.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 66px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrjzseoykP60dQV08wXEVA3pCr6f4CkJmjTOXT0Sy1xLjSrbK7RB5xIabZxJPPJ5oeQu-AvnCploy0_AX7jDhoY85sCAn0qiGJoTUhYdxLaGbSHmUfEO7iGGotQFJhNaPNiaxqHudrSo/s320/2892908498_3c96136eaf_t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694632987527705762" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1HYrpNuzxkvWIqr4pXXTnXf3BvF6WhV2ViFJxeaaBHccdF2BP-eIfUAawyF4rLDvKAbQ0Cf6CtDYKwIOayBG_fzvapxdFQecVj6YdJB2cEuZwL_qR0AoqZw7TILV7QBDmHFxunplADQ/s1600/3560325091_416d33afa0_t.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 67px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1HYrpNuzxkvWIqr4pXXTnXf3BvF6WhV2ViFJxeaaBHccdF2BP-eIfUAawyF4rLDvKAbQ0Cf6CtDYKwIOayBG_fzvapxdFQecVj6YdJB2cEuZwL_qR0AoqZw7TILV7QBDmHFxunplADQ/s320/3560325091_416d33afa0_t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694632780252999202" /></a><br /> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>991</o:Words> <o:characters>5652</o:Characters> <o:lines>47</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>11</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>6941</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>11.1287</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Is it just me or does anyone else think high heels are a misogynist joke on women?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">High-heeled shoes are meant to make women look sexy by jutting out the bum and making you teeter daintily and swing your hips seductively. Dazzling slender heels look especially alluring when worn with a short, tight skirt or skinny jeans. Being clearly impractical as sensible footwear, they subliminally suggest that you are ready to flop backwards on a bed, or possibly lean forward, ready for sex. They also send the message that looking sexy is such a priority you are willing to endure agony with every step.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">In this excruciating attempt to look sexy, and some women paradoxically claim high heels make them feel “empowered”, a woman in reality looks helpless and vulnerable and precariously on the brink of toppling over. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Daily Mail columnist William Leigh expresses the male ambivalence to the female form cavorting in high heels. “At four inches, the woman begins to look ferocious as well as vulnerable – she may be cornered, but these heels look like weapons, metaphorically, if not quite literally. She is dressed to kill, a vamp, a creature of the night…even if she is standing in a lunch queue at Pret a Manger. At five inches, this year’s height, something new happens. Instead of the feminine sashay… the woman’s walk begins to look like something else – dressage. She’s like a show pony.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">To my middle-aged eyes, newly arrived in London and keenly observing the street fashion trends, younger women actually look silly, ridiculous and comical on absurdly tall stilettos. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">High heels strike me as humiliating. Only a foolish woman would willingly turn herself into a fashion victim. Walking on spikes is a form of oppression on par with willingly shrouding yourself in heavy black robes and veils. We cannot judge other cultures that oppress women when our own western culture promotes instruments of torture for female footwear.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">The physiological truth is walking on ‘killer heels’ sends shock waves through the foot reverberating throughout the nervous system, causing pain. Concentrating all the pressure on the ball of the foot, tips you forward and throws out your balance and posture, damages the spine and muscles and adversely impacts every body system. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Apart from chronic pain inflicted through the martyrdom of walking or standing in high heels throughout a busy working day, there is a very real danger of tripping and falling over and injuring yourself as you rush around the city streets, chasing a bargain or trudging through the unglamorous tunnels in the Tube.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">High heels are a commercial conspiracy. Clever advertising and marketing whiz kids exploit the female urge to collect objects that are shiny and pretty, drawing on the tribal gatherer instinct. Once a woman has succumbed to buying the latest mesmerising pair of heels, she will quickly tire of them, as the novelty of the new trinket wears off, and will return to buy another pair, and another and another, to add to her glittering collection (the equivalent of collecting pebbles or shells in the wild).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">The impractical nature of these shoes ensures planned obsolescence and continual sales. All the while, gullible women are indoctrinated by fashion magazines that convince them that wearing killer heels is ‘normal’. Like other forms of social indoctrination, it is an insidious normalisation process of behaviour that is ridiculous and harmful (like violence and war). </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">I have a personal gripe with high heels because I have reached that menopausal age where walking long distances in standard heels or even flat shoes causes my feet to over-heat (something to do with the body thermostat being out of whack). My sweet little footsies become all swollen, tender and sore. I once Google searched ‘swollen and tender feet’ to discover a truckload of serious medical knowledge under the heading of this quaint Old Wives term. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Unlike women who get obsessed with pretty shoes, I was obsessed with buying every possible variety of sensible, supportive shoes; spongy slip-ons, cool open sandals and solid exercise footwear, but still my poor feet ended up ‘swollen and tender’; all pink, blistered and throbbing after a few hours on the move; which is very distressing as an avid traveller. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">What to do, what to do! It is a perplexing dilemma for women of my age. And then I discovered The Anti-Shoe. I even like the assertive name because it is as cranky and adamant in its rejection of heels as I am. But when I laid eyes on a pair for the first time, I must admit I was shocked. They have big, curved soles. Hmmm…now that IS different! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">However when I put on the DVD and started learning about the rationale behind the design, it made perfect sense and the people at this smart company MBT are my new best friends. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">The brochure blurb explains all: “The curved sole preserves the foot’s natural rolling movement. By creating a natural instability underfoot, it activates long-neglected muscles and has a positive effect from head to toe. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">“The anti-shoe improves gait and posture and relieves stress on your joints and back. It exercises a large number of muscles and supports muscle regeneration, whether you’re walking or standing. It stimulates your metabolism and burns extra calories. It can have a firming effect on abdominal, leg and buttock muscles.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">I like it! I like it! So I bought myself a pair. They are expensive and not for the faint-hearted. But I reckon I will make a saving on random purchases of useless ‘sensible shoes’. And the nice man in the store tells me they will last for four million steps.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">Maybe I’m a sucker for well-written advertising copy and convincing diagrams. But my new curved soles can’t possibly look sillier than killer heels. I’m off to try them out with a promise to report on the state of my precious pinkies after pounding the pavement like a menopausal Super Hero in my trusty Anti-Shoes.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">So here I am some months later after getting through a winter with my Anti-Shoes and discovering to my dismay that curved sole and slippery icy footpaths simply don’t mix! In fact they became as much a hazard in snowy conditions as the dreaded stilettos. I will keep them for autumn when it’s cold enough, but not wet and slippery, to wear such heavy clodhoppers, and resolved to wear regular flat boots in the snow. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:19.0pt;line-height:normal;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;">And for summer, I looked up my old friend Scholl online and rediscovered the ecstasy of spiky massage sandals for around the house and contoured, spongy soles for out and about on the Tube. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:19.0pt;line-height:normal;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;" ><span lang="EN-US">And in more than two years in London I’ve discovered a thrilling new array of comfort shoes! Oh Bliss. I’m in Sensible Footwear Heaven! There is Life After Death by heels.</span> Give me sole comfort over sole torture any day!<span lang="EN-US"> I am the new evangelist for walking on clouds! Hallelujah!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"> </span><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-30702295229801789112012-01-05T09:53:00.000-08:002012-01-05T10:04:32.758-08:00New Friends My Own Age<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTb-sBDDaD_e6RyFCQd8V5ralUgEPbc2ZiybG_VYHpJmeUzweA_1vefk4QV0HpjEJsDeDyVb4hZyQGyFX07UBhUUgtoENnB3NudyTul17hn7dZlkdg5eFRsMKNw5lIzb9Tlt4Z1z8X1uM/s1600/IMG_5046.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTb-sBDDaD_e6RyFCQd8V5ralUgEPbc2ZiybG_VYHpJmeUzweA_1vefk4QV0HpjEJsDeDyVb4hZyQGyFX07UBhUUgtoENnB3NudyTul17hn7dZlkdg5eFRsMKNw5lIzb9Tlt4Z1z8X1uM/s320/IMG_5046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694208646715599666" /></a><br /> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>764</o:Words> <o:characters>4357</o:Characters> <o:lines>36</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>5350</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>11.1287</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">At first it was tough and lonely leaving behind close friends in Australia and reaching out to make new friends in London. But here I am at the start of 2012 blessed to have, at last, a small circle of trusted women friends around me to share innermost feelings and struggles, triumphs and joy. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;"><i><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> </i>I adore the young adults in my life. I cherish my precious relationships with my amazing son and daughter and their circles of friends; ambitious young Aussies making their way in London.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">I listen to their scintillating dreams and delight in their unbridled confidence. I relish being a parent-figure and mentor; offering wisdom drawn from my cauldron of mistakes, regrets, hard-won knowledge and the odd good choice of my own tumultuous 20s.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">And I sympathise with the challenges of the elderly, their litany of complaints about ill health, their vulnerability and daily sense of helplessness in a computer age that confounds their every turn.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">However at times I feel sandwiched in the middle between two generations, an antiquated old Hippy amongst vibrant, tech-savvy 20-somethings and an upbeat youngster in the company of old people, wary of being drawn into their world of woes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">Honestly, I yearn for friends my own age, for my peer group, those in the middle of their life journey, the 40 to 60 year-olds (and those rare eternally youthful 70-somethings!) that share cultural memories and common concerns.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">I need people just like me who are navigating the same challenges in this tricky middle passage. I need, I admit, mutual understanding and validation. And if I’m getting ‘horizontal’ encouragement from my peers I am better equipped to offer support and guidance ‘vertically’ to generations downward and upward.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">But it is not easy to make new friends at this in-between stage of life. Friendships don’t just happen. They don’t get thrust upon you, as in your frantic 30s and 40s when you suddenly found yourself bosom buddies and throwing barbecues with other parents, random colleagues or amusing couples you clicked with at social functions.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">At this age, making new friends is not so accidental. It is an art form, or a science perhaps. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">More so since moving countries and leaving behind old mates, my husband and I have entered uncertain terrain where people already have established friends. Like the new kids at school we hang around the fringes of the playground, scared to bust into tight-knit cliques.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">But if we rise to the challenge, there is an up side. New friendships are invigorating, especially with interesting people from other countries. We can embrace new conversations while still cherishing long-term chums with shared history.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">Over 50 it comes naturally to open up and build rapport because most of us who have survived our 40s have been through similar experiences; mourned over the ashes of our youthful dreams, buried loved ones, weathered traumas, stared down the barrel of divorce and been wounded or dodged the bullet.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">And you can be really fussy and selective. Making new friends in midlife is more deliberate and intentional. By this seasoned, verging on grumpy stage of life, you have developed particular tastes and know exactly what you like and mostly what you don’t like in food, customer service, your partner’s personal habits and other people’s idiosyncrasies. You now get to choose friends on the grounds of compatibility.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">This might sound mercenary and a tad narcissistic, but I prefer gal pals who are just like me! I no longer want to do battle with contrary friends who are diametrically opposed on every opinion. I want women friends who share my values, my range of emotions, my tastes and even my faults and issues! Yes it is empathy I am flagrantly seeking. It’s a job description where Empathisers Only need apply!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">Common interests provide fertile ground for the friend-seeking mission. I love to travel and find taking trips with small groups of same-age adventurers a smart way to share fun times and make lasting alliances.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">With a life-long interest in therapy, I value weekly get-togethers with trusted people who are willing to disclose their deeper issues in a confidential circle that brings healing to old wounds and shares the load.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">And I have become a real joiner, discovering a dynamic club for journalists, a folk music society and a little church around the corner. I’ve even given serious thought while lying on my bed to joining a gym. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">But my very favourite social activity remains <i>doing lunch</i> with girlfriends. (It’s okay to use this term even though we are long past giggly girlhood.) <i>Doing </i>lunch is an indulgence in dire need of revival.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;color:#993399;">The internet provides cyber bonding on a global scale. I love Facebook and email but I can go a whole day staring at my screen, alone in my loft, imagining I’ve made contact with people when in reality I haven’t made any <i>real</i> contact!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">So I’ve made a resolution: instead of emailing I will pick up the phone and actually talk to someone and tear myself away from the screen and get out and do lunch and make eye contact and full-blown conversation with real friends. A novel concept in this new Cyber World, but the only way to connect with other humans in the Big City on the surprising journey of life.</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); "> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-42111407150104799702011-03-23T04:32:00.000-07:002011-03-23T10:17:33.681-07:00Finding Love Again<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-tsxzO96EjqswqqiWSc8jK6XbckBUUaKfeZTZ1a1LsOc-MsXeYo69w5PsI1pGcEYi3GvqZF71t_qD4MvkNtlcvCLz8KgHI4ea0U_ZxDBGY9MiAJgiCaJGpDk0loeGSb2tW87hu7lvLI/s1600/IMG_0943.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-tsxzO96EjqswqqiWSc8jK6XbckBUUaKfeZTZ1a1LsOc-MsXeYo69w5PsI1pGcEYi3GvqZF71t_qD4MvkNtlcvCLz8KgHI4ea0U_ZxDBGY9MiAJgiCaJGpDk0loeGSb2tW87hu7lvLI/s320/IMG_0943.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587238915508269682" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the worst things you can do to your husband is psychoanalyse and pathologise him. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With every self-help book I pored over, I was exhilarated to find a new label. He was ‘reactive’, ‘defensive’, ‘hyper-vigilant’, ‘fearful avoidant’ ‘immature’ with </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">‘arrested development’, ‘passive aggressive’, ‘covertly hostile’ and quite simply out to ‘sabotage’ my happiness.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had regular flare-ups. I would approach him for understanding and reassurance or just try to discuss a benign issue and he would resist and retreat. But the dance didn’t stop there. I pursued him and the hurtful exchange escalated.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Charged with the searing pain of rejection, I would retaliate with a screaming diatribe and inevitably end up a crumpled heap on the bed, howling and sobbing, grief-stricken. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The cycle was debilitating our health and derailing </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">our stability. At these agonising low points I was full of misery and despair and he was full of anxiety and shame.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Our marriage seemed almost hopeless and we felt helpless to stop the habitual flare-ups. But we also knew we had so much goodness going for us; a deep devotion, a wonderful family we adore, our shared history and an exciting future if only we could crack this vicious little nut.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In over three decades together we had amassed an imposing stockpile of grievances, bad habits and emotional wounds that were opened up to bleed with every ferocious clash.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During the lull between fights we stood back and surve</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">yed the smouldering mound of emotional debris and glimpsed the glowing coal of fierce and pure love struggling to stay alive and re-ignite.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had to solve this problem. Like a comic knight, I’d been riding my horse called Hope on a desperate quest for decades. We had tried an assortment of marriage courses. But none of them could explain the deeper dynamics, the underlying dark forces of relationship destruction.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I finally ‘discovered’ Dr Steven Stosny. I like to imagine that I personally discovered the master. Actually Oprah did, and so did thousands before me. I devoured his books and blogs and knew in my heart this was IT.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny cast all labels aside and revealed the simple truth. We were both consumed by chronic resentment; a potent brew of accumulated anger laced with a burning sense of unfairness that poisons love.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The only catch for us living in London was that Dr Stosny’s couples boot camps are held in the States, in Maryland, outside Washington DC. Still we figured it was worth the cost of the flights and accommodation if a three-day training could save our marriage and our sanity.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So mid-March, as spring was tentatively breaking thr</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ough the winter gloom, we grasped the nettle and boarded the plane on our way to transformation.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The room was full of stressed couples as desperate as us fo</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">r respite and reprieve. They had come from all over t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">he States and some from other parts of the world.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny has soft brown eyes, a kind face, and a warm, honeyed accent peppered with a quirky sense of humour from his New Jersey upbringing and Italian heritage. He is not a tall man. But he packs so much knowledge of psychology and biology into his compact form he fills the room. In a smooth, fluent delivery, he held us enthralled for endless hours as he unravelled the tangled mess of our marriages.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As he says, handling each other with care is not that difficult. Rats would get it and stop harmful behaviour instantly but humans persist in doing the same dumb stuff expecting a different result. To be fair, humans are at the mercy of unconscious triggers rats don’t have.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Through extensive research, Dr Stosny has uncovered how the Automatic Defence System (ADS), or fight or flight instinct, is easily activated in the enmeshed relationship of the twosome.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The ADS is continually activated by an underlying shame and fear dynamic with a gender twist that explains why husbands and wives don’t ‘get’ each other and inadvertently trigger each other’s vulnerabilities.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Females are biologically wired with fear of three things: isolation (rejection and disconnection from loved ones); physical and psychological harm and deprivation of security and comfort.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Males are biologically wired with shame about being inadequate or a failure. They are keenly sensitive around their rating as a provider, protector and lover. If a wife wants to hurt her husband she only has to taunt him about his poor performance in any one of these roles.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And so the dance begins. A wife inadvertently ‘insults’ her husband and he fires up or withdraws. She feels rejected and pursues him and he gets more defensive and lashes out. She is scared and feels unloved and retaliates with criticism, sarcasm, name-calling and put-downs that further increase his shame.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The cycle of fear and shame can escalate and spin wildly out of control until you are both thrashing around in intense emotional turmoil and disconnected from each other, seeing each other as an opponent, or worst still, the Enemy.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The endless cycle of painful flare-ups and stand-offs and disconnection leads to a build-up of resentment that becomes toxic. You blame your partner for ‘causing’ your emotional pain. You see </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">him</span></span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> or </span></span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">her</span></span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> as the problem, instead of recognising that the feelings are happening within yourself.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Blind to your own faults, you start to psychoanalyse why he/she is doing this to you and reach for self-help books, advice from friends and even se</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ek counselling and therapy. But all the delving into childhood issues does not solve the puzzle of why you react to each other in such a crazy way.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And you feel guilty and ashamed because your bad behaviour with your partner behind closed doors is out of sync with who you are in the rest of your life; a rational, capable and caring human being!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As Dr Stosny points outs, the problem is not so much psychological as physiological. The ADS becomes hyperactive, set on high alert, on a delicate hair trigger. It keeps going off constantly like a faulty smoke alarm and needs to be disarmed and re-set.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The ways you behave when triggered will depend on the habits entrenched in your relationship, originally adopted from the template laid down in your formative years from watching your parents. If your parents were expressive, fiery and explosive or conflict avoidant and prone to shut down or flee, you might role model on their example. Or you might have a temperamental leaning (towards fear-based flight or anger-based fight) to do the opposite of your parents.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The extent to which your ADS is over-reactive to fear and shame triggers will depend on the intensity of your unconscious Core Hurts (formed through unresolved traumas and past wounds). Dr Stosny is specific about Core Hurts, which he lists as feeling disregarded, unimportant, accused, guilty, devalued, rejected, powerless and the very deepest hurt is either feeling inadequate or unlovable.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But exciting news! Dr Stosny has not only cracked the nut of why the madness happens, he has devised a solution; a way to give up blame and resentmen</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">t and the cycle of outbursts through managing your own emotions and accessing a much better part of yourself that can override your destructive instincts.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He helps couples develop compassion for each other’s vulnerability. Dr Stosny defines compassion as simply: “Caring when your partner feels bad with a desire to help.” (Guys, ‘help’ does not mean fixing the problem, just listening, understanding, empathising, consoling and soothing).</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Compassion allows the couple to stay connected and calms a woman’s fear of rejection and isolation and helps her lavish her man with nurturing and the appreciation, tenderness and support he craves.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Compassion is the most profound form of love that surpasses dizzy infatuation and will sustain you through a lifetime together. Once opened, like a beautiful flower, a compassionate heart will enrich everyone around.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny helps couples cultivate compassion through practising HEALS. The process re-programs the neural pathways i</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">n your brain to take a different track. When you feel resentful, angry or anxious you stop and experience the Core Hurt that has been triggered then you access your Core Values.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Your Core Value Bank comprises eight components; Basic Humanity, Meaning and Purpose, Loved Ones, Spirituality, Nature, Creativity, Community and Acts of Kindness.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By daily accessing and adding to your Core Value Bank you strengthen your goodness and can love yourself and solve problems from this compassionate, powerful state of mind rather than from the distorted, weak state of resentment, anger or anxiety.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny says compassion is empowering. My </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">husband and I have discovered this is true. Just a week after the boot camp my intense feelings of hurt and disappointment, frustration, anger and judgements and Andrew’s anxiety, walking on eggshells, defensiveness, resentment and blame have evaporated as if we have woken up from a bad dream.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are feeling connected and attuned to each other. We have fallen in love again and celebrated with two days sight-seeing in Washington DC where we didn’t have one argument! A miracle!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are committed to practising the HEALS process 12 tim</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">es a day for six weeks to re-program our brains. Real change comes not from learning external skills, but from the inside.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are grateful for finally finding the way out of painful interactions back to true love, care and compassion.</span></span></span></p><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhdXeUyzU7E4oMS7DaLf-t7FWsUzlc1kDtObcyEqvgUnllBX_fKYn5ta5W0S-UOtbebKCdmVcZa9dRBE7Rffh4O0JFrr7V72Y1T10_PkyfiqK59nRIExTjFS55lxk4gqEVanuRL6yUFI/s320/IMG_1069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587239581288014802" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny runs Compassion Power boot camps for couples at the Wyndham Gardens Gaithersburg Hotel in Maryland, United States every six weeks.</span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The website is </span></span></i></span><a href="http://compassionpower.com/Anger%20Management%20Emotional%20Abuse%20Boot%20Camp.php?utm_source=MadMimi&utm_medium=email&utm_content=Love+without+Hurt++Boot+Camp%2C+April+29-May+1_&utm_campaign=Love+without+Hurt++Boot+Camp%2C+April+29-May+1_&utm_term=R"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Compassion Powerh</span></span></i></span></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He also runs boot camps in Perth, Australia. </span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Contact susie@graduate.uwa.edu.au</span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dr Stosny’s blog </span></span></i></span><a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/anger-in-the-age-entitlement"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Anger in the Age of Enlightenment</span></span></i></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is featured on the US Psychology Today website</span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His best-selling books include </span></span></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How To Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (co-written with Dr Patricia Love); </span></span></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Love Without Hurt</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span></span></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Powerful Self</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. He is currently writing </span></span></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Toddlers In Love.</span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;"> </span></span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-24551896318169208972010-10-27T01:32:00.000-07:002010-10-27T02:30:21.558-07:00A Dash To Paris<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Link" border="0" class="gl_link" /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoWUjL5a-b-K0WM7IFI9y5MughjKtO7AIXW3WH1s56W0BwmYk_klC6fxw76ASXmCI8GydBzdESvKLciNaUUcRxnPCnZtPysb4kviEH4DXDh2Zv08QVISxHSEnYMWqab0t4WOhFz2EUT0/s1600/IMG_3543.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoWUjL5a-b-K0WM7IFI9y5MughjKtO7AIXW3WH1s56W0BwmYk_klC6fxw76ASXmCI8GydBzdESvKLciNaUUcRxnPCnZtPysb4kviEH4DXDh2Zv08QVISxHSEnYMWqab0t4WOhFz2EUT0/s320/IMG_3543.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532643490471672178" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Travelling the Eurostar from London to Paris, sister-in-law Chris and I were bracing ourselves for going t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">hrough the spooky tunnel deep </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">under the Engl</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ish Channel.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jabbering non-stop as two excited women do, it was a case of ‘This wont hurt, did it!’ After all our trepidation, what an anti-climax!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We didn’t even notice we’d c</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">rossed the channel. We thought we were still in London, weaving under ground and over ground a</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">s you do on the Tube</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. But pausing to draw breath, we glanced out the window to notice that the landscape looked suspiciously Fren</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ch and shock upon shock, we were actually in rura</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">l France!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It takes just 20 minutes to go through the tunnel and just two and half hours by train to be transported from bustling St Pancras to relaxed Gare Du Nord, little more time than a journey from one side of </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">London to the other.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Instant devotees of Eurost</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ar, we decided the elegant train is the only way to travel! (Let’s forget that embarrassin</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">g faux pas last winter!) Who would bother with the ordeal of hostile Airport Security and the drama of flying or getting yourself to Dover to brave the ferry when you can glide into gay </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pari, smooth and stress-free, fresh as a warm croissant?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We also realised that two women can travel together </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with ease! Mature-aged gal pals can be agreeable, considerate and co-operative in decision-making; fitting in with each other without fuss! Our little mid-week get-away just flowed.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Arriving on Wednesday afternoon, we jumped the Metro to our hotel. Chris </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">had booked the Hotel La Bourdonnais at a reasonable rate of €180 per night. It was a com</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">fortable, tres chic twin share with Parisian décor on a qu</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">iet street within walking distance of the Eiffel Tow</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">er. D</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">elightful!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We grabbed a late lunch at a nearby café. I had the strangest warm salad on a tortilla and Chris had a Caesar salad that bore no resemblanc</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e to the traditional recipe (Oh well, the French can do what they like with food! Who are we to argue!) But the meal was redeemed by the superb tiny Espresso of utter perfection, strong but not bitter.</span></span></span></p> <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjg54nPJ4rA4PBvXzUuGw9y6a5bp_my-Yxen__jgPHNzX5TV42BRI_cAvU8_YPPEBnImFuglj9KWPk7yKDHQuspMR6LkTATDDYOtOYXcDirWzfJCx_QSyt39I_FkEQIx9WpncnVdyEZU/s200/IMG_3505.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532652828824032722" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"‘Oh what next?" we mused and decided on a cruise along the Seine. Tickets are just €8 and we could walk to the famous riv</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">er to join the throng of tourists on board the Brigitte Bardot (as amply end</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">owed as her namesake). Gliding in awe under a succession of bridges adorned </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with gold statues, pinching ourselves, with cameras snapping, we were gob smacked to take in the iconic sights of the opulent city we had dreamed about ever since high school French in suburban Melbourne!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You reach a certain </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">stage of life and the world becomes a big, warm cosy home. You feel very comfortable as a Global Citizen, a savvy traveller, con</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">nected with humanity, no longer an alien, no longer a child, but a Grown Up with a credit card and a grasp on history and culture and universal human nature. There ain’t nothing you can’t handle, well except the </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">language that is!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It didn’t take long in Paris to experience a creeping sense of inadequacy. Usually supremely confident in my communication skills with the ability to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">lavish charm on the locals, without fluent French I felt like I suddenly had a disability, empathising with non-English speaking emigrants, intelligent and respected in their homelands, but treated like idiots in their adopted country!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I could deciphe</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">r French signs just fine, but when it came to uttering a few polite words I was too scared of making a fool of myself with poor pronunciation with the impeccable Parisians with their unforgiving high standards in all things!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But Chris, having honed up on French classes for months before her trip, was confident to try a few phrases on the locals: Bonjour, Je suis Australien, Ca Va? Merci, Pardon, Excusez-moi and the essential su</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">rvival phrase: “Je suis desole”, e</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">xclaimed wi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">th exaggerated, high pitched intonation and a theatrical face full of remorse. It is guaranteed to gain pardon for any gauche behaviour such as stomping on a foot in th</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e Metro, spilling your soup down someone’s back or being dumbstruc</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">k in givin</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">g directions to a lost soul on the street!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yes two minutes in Paris and I was overwhelmed with the desire to learn the ultimate romance language! After the sunset cruise on the Seine we returned to our hotel room to doll up for dinner. I slipped into my red sweater with the sequinned shoulders and my purple trench coat while Chris opted for her classic black as we v</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">entured forth in search of a cheeky little street cafe.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lured by the man shucking fresh oysters from their shells, we drifted in and shared a plate of luscious aphrodisiacs (a sheer waste with my husband back in </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a cold bed in Ealing!) We lingered over the meal, chatting madly and wand</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ered off into the night to see the Eiffel Tower all lit up before collapsing i</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">n our jarmies mid-sent</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ence!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The next day we opted for the L Open Tour. I am a big fan of the ever-reliable city tourist bus having done New York, London, Dublin and now Paris from the top of a double-decker, rolling serenely like royalty with a clear view of the sights, the expert commentary booming through your trusty little ear plugs. For just €29 you can be guided around the city for an entire day, with the greatest of ease!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Blessed with sunny blue skies, the chill in the air was bracing and kept us alert! We jumped off at the Louvre and spent two hours wandering the f</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">amous art gallery in search of the miniscule Mono Lisa. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Despite signs forbidding c</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ameras, the pl</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">acid guards have long since given up attempting to stop </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ea</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ger visitors taking sly snaps of the priceless works of art!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Next s</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">top </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">was the Notre Dame cathedral and we sat quietly awe-struck in that magnificent, sacred place dating back to t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">he 12</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">t</span></span></span></sup><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">h</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> c</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">entury </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">before succumbing to tummy rumbles and seeking out French cuisi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ne in a nearby </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">café and after some ordinary soup savoured the famed Tarte Tatin, an upside down apple tart, which was delish!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoC1UuzJpmPFkaQfo7ReprbNl9pOOxfqMVRiey4PHJbS4aUD4GqEt3Qnx8qA_qVvbGjacns4y-1evus3TOM51YYKa9g53IXkI5d_HT5075798PcqVEIXSY5Vcpgvy_laJKkjwOuDzwQRI/s320/IMG_3634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532643665516084114" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">However I wish we had wandered acr</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">oss the road to the Latin Quarter and stumbled into a more exotic café in the funky cobbles</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">tone laneways on the edge of St-Michel on the Seine, the bohemian student precinct near Sorbonne University. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ah well! Next time!</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Back on board L Open Tour we are cap</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ivated by the dramatic Place de la Concorde, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">formerly the Place de la Revolution, the site where 100,000 aristocrats lost their heads in 1789 when King Louis XVI was overthrown. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When Napoleon was crowned Emperor in 1804, he set about transforming the city with sple</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ndiferous monuments including the Arc de Triomphe. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But as we chugged along the tree-line</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">d Champ-Elysees, it was the Tour Eiffel on sunset that captured our hearts.</span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWojk6axeWwcBVabQnt-tz4Nc3uwF0MWTf6swV3ihQEgV7pOXmVPi6u3Y1zXfbSQW3woQafrLmkH_ZsGFv2ruK3Uiqn6Ntlh0Meae67teHac4C0LKf7EXCQXgKWp4J-Wrvm6Pvf_mwgbI/s320/IMG_7191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532644107835614770" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">you</span></span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> do the bus tour, be </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">sure to time your tour to arrive at the mesmerising icon in the late afternoon and be prepared to ascend to the top, rug up and wait it out until the sun fades to a golden hue and the whole pristine city lights up!</span></span></span></p></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Chris was de</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">termined to make the most of her once-in-a-lifetime visit to the Eiffel Tower and stay on the top of the 320 metre high engineering masterpiece, despite the encroaching chill, the crush of the crowd, sore feet and a parched throat, until one by one the lights came on across Paris.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Oh look, there’s a light! There’s another one!” she exclaimed with child-like wonder, snapping another view and another view around the 360 degree vista of the magnificent city! We were indeed rewarded for our patience stretching two hours on the summit with a magical view of the twinkling lights o</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">f Paris imprinted on our brains forever; a real </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">eye full</span></span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> at the Eiffel!</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Too hungry to make it to a café, we grabbed a snack at the tower kiosk and fought off the eager peddlers of tacky souvenirs to make it back to our hotel room for a quiet night in, mulling over the delights of the day.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Checking out on Friday mornin</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">g, I mustered the courage to mutter ‘Mer-Cee Boo-Koo’ in my best Aussie drawl and detected the exchange of subtle smirks between the sophisticated young desk clerks. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 0, 204); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That’s it. I am enrolling in French classes! Comprenez-vous? D’accord!</span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9C_eNFokCoJzARLRQ_HoCrdUMBEq-KePuq3Ny3RnQWd1uMyF9M16fFQWuV1PiqCpJjNboW93a8xRpDvKNIcCic-3YF7-AucV1q8-rAywa5zLBldS9HVSPWWluHbCiR1NEA8vikO2bNw/s200/IMG_7308.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532645687496303826" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-9AmGyskDuIWySVz5Z_YhpKoHbnb0rVGh2TxqwNbl1UMgiLX1BTKlYqX1VHTC7kkobuKobtzgmKY8KQEypLBWDwj3rZQTcctTJdOg7vR3iU0sz2i1XEOVbnfpg6L31pgdhblu4QaQpY/s200/IMG_7295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532645130788947842" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#6600CC;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-22613547100522918222010-10-05T04:58:00.000-07:002010-10-06T01:49:28.739-07:00A Jaunt Around Ireland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM5U66QujYBqktYyHXnotLf0CI0u5Tvlozr6iv4Juh-7SzTMycIfjmLH6tJEMpWfbYENvSp7Pmoslsz87RMPEEBwFeGzMCS2e-0Ony2FPzOjGS9n49Xau2IlJVfF356R2WqhVkB0MmPk/s1600/IMG_5664.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM5U66QujYBqktYyHXnotLf0CI0u5Tvlozr6iv4Juh-7SzTMycIfjmLH6tJEMpWfbYENvSp7Pmoslsz87RMPEEBwFeGzMCS2e-0Ony2FPzOjGS9n49Xau2IlJVfF356R2WqhVkB0MmPk/s200/IMG_5664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524545026379005122" /></a><br /><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaua44hOtTLToIVZWSZ0jsnz8xWy48pUY9Xpn8Kd32Xi6dIkvEfDIhV1vdWRHqqJh-WF86xQuQjSiWOB-WHCKmLEKp1rOvB9UCN_-OwAVbrI6MUtpCB8A7mpjrhsTKjpS4UKZCYiGS7TA/s200/IMG_5742.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524536903096999458" /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I could boast that I collected charming Irish men on our trip but the </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">unembellished truth i</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">s I relish chatting with the locals, connecting heart to heart. And you learn more about a place and its people in a curious chinwag than in </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">hours poring over tr</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">avel guides.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">So </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">first there w</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">as Michael, then th</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ere was Liam and finally Eanna. Oh those Irish lads could sweet-talk the socks off a gal. ‘Tis true, the Irish accent is so melodious and seductive, they could be p</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">rattling about any old mundane topic like wind direction, stone fences or the invasion of Oliver Cromwell and I’d still be captivated.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Which isn’t to say I didn’t have my cherished D & K on board (the verit</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">able bible on Ireland) as we cruised out of Dublin in the st</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">urdy Nissan hire car, heading south to the rugged coast of the glorious Emerald I</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">sl</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">e. Husband, Andrew was in the driver’s seat with Self by his side, Delightful Daughter, Justine a</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">nd Aussie Adventurer, Sis-Outlaw, Chris sitting pretty in the back seat. Jussy’s boyfriend Andy was </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">all set to join us further dow</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">n the track.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">For starters, I sketch my intuitive little mud </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">map of the proposed itinerary, keen to hit the bases Andrew & I had missed on a delirious trip way back in 2001. It wa</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">s back then I </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">decided I had Irish blood, which got vigorously stirred, even though I couldn’t prove it. My heart went POW on Irish </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">soil, Irish music, Irish history and Irish folk. In the interim, research into family history had confirmed my Irish convict heritage and now I’m so proud to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">b</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">e green I could burst.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">‘Kil’ is Gaelic for </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">church so it pops up as a prefix in many place names, including our first destination. In Kildare we visit </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">the Irish National Stud and t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">our the Japanese Gar</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">dens (I know, weird cultural collision!) and take the Journey through Life, groping through the Tunnel of Ignorance, stopping briefly at the</span></span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLBdpweruh9M0UgxFNpBw5WdPfYYbw6AN2spPLbiYpD3DCYy3ttEq4W81fkhu6LfU5uptg6aecul8ol-d3TxK2RONgKNOl8T93ScZEbOb_epyvgMugN-yF6tVP4bfTG5z-Gn8ypHrLGYQ/s200/IMG_6999.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524546403079198290" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Hill of Learning, Justine stan</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ds hopefully on the Engagement Bridge, Andrew and I squabble on the Marriage Bridge, I almost fall off the Hill of Ambition, we all avoid the Chair of Old Ag</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">e and have a good blubber on the Hill of Mourning!</span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">At the Horse Museum we learn that the Irish love horseracing, especially the famous Grand </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">National Steeplechase, as m</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">uch as they love Guinness and the craic. We admire the impressive stallions in their fertile fields befor</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">e hitting the gift shop and hitting the road!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Kilkenny, built around its 12</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">th</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> century castle on the River Nore, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">is a lively town full of picture-postcard, brightly painted pubs. Lured by the promise of hearty veggie </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">soup, we find </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">a quiet corner, only to glance up to see that Neighbours is playing out crass Aussie drama on all four big screens! The soup turns out to be yesterday’s veg pureed into mush so we fill up on hot chips and scour the shops in search of tacky souvenirs. I make an excited purchase of some musical wooden spoons but after a pathetic attempt to master them decide to give them to Young And</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">y, who is after all a talented drummer so should have no pr</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">oblem ke</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">eping the beat during our next sing-along!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">That night, after enough pub fare, Chris manages to source an upmarket gourmet Italian restaurant and we dine in style and t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">hen slide down market to a rowdy little pub to hear a solitary crooner and meet some country lads whose </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">vision is somewhat </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">dulled by an excess of Guinness and they mistake me for a Youn</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">g Hottie! I have to be </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">coaxed back to Fanad guesthouse before I’m intoxicated with flattery!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It was in Kilkenny I </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">was inspired to open my laptop and delve into an old file on my mum’s Lane family background. The story goes my great, great grandmother, Ann Carroll was just 17 when she was transported to Tasmania in 1849 with her mother Ann Carroll senior (nee Birnes), who was convicted of stealing a sheep and potatoes to feed her family. She was a wi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">dow and, like thousands of Irish Poor, red</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">uced to stealing to survive during the Potato Famine of 1845 to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">1852 when more than a million people died from starva</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">tion under British subjugation. Now this heritage could explain my rage against injustice and zeal for human rights! Th</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">e feisty </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">convict </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">Ann Carroll and her children hailed from Queens county. To my delight I discovered that rural area, just outside Dublin north of Kilkenny, is now ca</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">lled Laois.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The teenaged Ann married Charles A</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">insworth, an English convict transported for the petty crime of stealing tools, who after serving his 10-year sentence took his young Irish bride and together they ran a pub called The Man </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">of Ross in Hobart. Now this might explain my love of traditional pubs! They had four children but Charles and his son, Charles Ainsworth Junior moved to Victoria on the mainlan</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">d of Australia and the young Charles married Eliza Swanston, the d</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">aughter of a Scottish woman! Ah! There y</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">ou have it. The trifecta! I’ve got working class Irish</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">, English and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Scottish blood coursing through m</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">y </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">veins! My grandmother Millie Ainsworth was one of 11 children who grew up in Victoria and married grandfather William Lane. And then there was me mum, Valerie Lane and then there was me!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">When chatting to the locals you realise just how fiercely the Irish love their homeland, their small town communities and their families and how it must have been heartbreaking </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">to be banished to a convict settlement on the </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">other side of t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">he world; the worst kind of soul-destroying punishment the British rulers could have inflicted.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">But the Irish Up</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">rising of 1916 eventually led to Independence in 192</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">2 and the Republic of Ireland was made official in 1949. But the Irish still suffer. They might be an emotional race of people, musical </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and creative, and as endearing as a Labrador pup</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">py and favourite old uncle rolled into one but cold, hard accounting is not the Irish forte. I heard on the evening news that the Irish economy is haemorrhaging as the government bor</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">rows €70 million a day and </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">the front page of the Irish Daily Mail screams the headlines that the country is losing 500 qualified young people a week, as they emigrate in search of work.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Day Three, we take the long way round via Tipperary to reach the bustling city of Cork and arrive at the legendary Blarney C</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">astle where a peculiar backward kiss on the upper tower is meant to bestow the Gift of </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">the Gab, an effu</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">sive eloquence that will allow you to talk your way in to or out of anything, except the beguiling Blarney Woollen Mill, f</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ull of sumptuous knitwear and Irish delights. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAUriWYyk7AAR9A8NexnGdzWAggrmyQKYPCkWkPCp5jUKgcsCfVGv4IRzXDQgA-SxKIiRuUOAK80mksQoLFjiqCUUMoxRyrljrXe2j6C_gH6rYHMrbGJ0F3VddwE6hhecS2fzumnL8jE/s200/IMG_5539.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524541302392775090" /></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And</span></span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">my banter proves no match for the lovely, gregarious B & B lady who treats us to a hearty Irish breakfast and an astute comparison of Irish football, Aussie Rules and that other game, rugby.</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">We prise ours</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">elves away from the lavish table to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">set off for what would be the most magical, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">out-of-the-box day imaginable! It seems the Irish remain cheerful and enterprising in th</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">e face of economic gloom. When we arrive in the exquisite tourist town of Killarney, we are enticed by a colourful line-up of jaunty </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">horse-drawn carriages ready to trot tourists through the beautiful national park.</span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNcZd58h182L-70vZRUOjKo5QD0pB4mKD-dB22c4NruRPdvFbJuIoEDl3suStoaspSDzWsbthHpDGY2-0qm3tYZWp34oF3wVaNowij72e0Ysd7L8m9ZRrG__-ek_1fVxjpW3V3YKaTMI/s200/IMG_5753.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524534754836475714" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I cannot resist the mellifluous Michael who has all four of us up on that cart in a flash and merrily setting off along the track. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Michael knows more a</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">bout the 25,000 acres of pristine fo</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">rest, the me</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">sm</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">erising lakes and centuries of local </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">history </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">than humanly possible! We end up at the ruins of Ros</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">s Castle and the gentl</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">e sun sparkles across the vast expanse of </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">pla</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">cid Lough Leane, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">across to the velvet hills of scattered islands; an entrancing vision of tranquillity.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">That afternoon we drive the magnificent Ring of Kerry </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and absorb the </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">breathtaking scenery of the unspoilt Iveragh Peninsula. As if that </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">wasn’t enough magic for one day, after booking in at the splendid </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Carrilea House and chatting with owner Eileen and her four little daughters, we treat ourselves to the original Riverdance which, as luck would have it, is playing at the Irish National Entertainment Centre! We are left buzzing and s</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">peechless by the exhilarating genius of the dazzling dancers and collapse happy after a day full of wonder.</span></span></span></p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Saturday sees us driving to Tralee and on to Tarbert to take the ferry across the River Shannon to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">get to County Clare and tour the rugged west coast on the Atlantic Ocean. </span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaIg1svYhmeDuu1870SjATlIjDhzn_-kSLR8sxD6FJh9iGPPNoQsQMnM283lTzAgR5Ed8BhHrCEZ4ihd5a5Kgxqxbw0aPt7-Rx7_1L-zJtBtg_KAlmF1EwPVCQ3E6ms4UEBSlNzwAEJg/s200/IMG_5783.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524542579743667090" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">The wild and desolate vista from the Cliffs of M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">oher is softened by the verdant h</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ills dotted with grazing cattle and sheep and pretty cottages. When we reach the tiny historic township of Doolin, the </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">day has turned blustery and bleak. We step out of the warm car and the freezing wind is forbidding and unforgiving, sending us on our way to look for accom</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;">modation at the inland town of Ennis.</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It makes sense to hole up in a cosy B&B at this funny little town set on the River Fergus so that Justine is all ready to rendezvous with boyfriend Andy who is arriving the next day by train. On Sunday </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">morning, Justine heads for the station and Irish luck is on our side as the new day has dawned calm and sunny for our intrepid trip across to the Aran </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family:verdana;font-size:small;">Islands.</span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NrkI43Ejyb707OVRbsYzanaqyygCCScgtwWdzcvzF1alKBW-TMkcKxDdUZbIPqVyHIg9WTKuWqhra7pQtnzIZtt6anRUQ1yVy8viWnnGFaVky3bX3vuOooQrEQNtlTb7vLxZvQo2_JE/s200/IMG_6028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524535842296501906" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">At Bill O’Brien’s Doolin Ferry service, I meet the son, Liam who enchants me with stories about the Matchmaking Festival where every September h</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ope</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ful bachelors come looking for eager wives. But the delectable Liam is already taken, having gotten himself hitched just weeks before to an American bride!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Chris, Andrew </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and I board the robust ferry, which carves through the choppy Atlantic to re</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ach the smallest of the three islands, Inisheer. We are greeted by local lad, Eanna who tours us around in his van. The tiny, picturesque island is just two miles long and t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">wo miles wide and ho</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">me to just 300 people, who live a traditional lifestyle, speaking Gaelic, playing music, fixing the endless rows of limestone fences and entertaining tourists.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></span></p><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrxxjCFZeN_bt-70jJySzguc9NWlknY39NWIcYCy5P7a3Q_HHwdW3YoCPd7m01zgOR6joQSKVejL8aoLsFfQZNbGAXLXpcDayqqS9Shj-lOR5f2O9M4hBRH73ap_11ioeRoWaqxZ7pJ8/s200/IMG_6124.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524536453819381282" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Eanna says in a soothing accent that: “It is a nice, easy way of life” and no amount of money wou</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ld allow outsiders to buy property here and intrude on the close-knit community of families that go back generations. However Eanna and other islanders venture to Galway by light plane, b</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">oat or car when they want to escape the peace and quiet and Liam tips us off on the best pub for craic.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And Galway is just where we’re heading after we meet up with An</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">dy and Jussy. The vibrant harbour city is jumping and we locate the Taaffes pub and bravely weave our way through the crowd to sit just inches for the two old boys who are pumping out tunes on an accordion and thrashing guitar. Amidst the ear-splitting exuberance, Chris is serenaded by an amorous </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">drunk and narrowly escapes a beer bath from a boisterous lad doing a jig with his pint. It is hilarious fun and we wonder how the rowdy Sunday night revellers can face work Monday morning!</span></span></span></p> <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqVcdmALGDnpoItb6HwCmJXNcjrQ7F_5HI6FAoRnSgNPjEP_I-L-ZDTYea6Wh4bnGCOV-8_bxoyzE1kJQ-INgOG-r6W6EpPIZuS-9wfrUsoa0ZU3vmtHSp6pc4t2VKa6nKBa5I4Pt2Q_k/s200/IMG_6220.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524540281531683554" /><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzmPFeaiJPEOGqg2X5M9Zpy6gLUFYg5TJbxjecFLeSiaWgQlkl0-ERk8HrmMF6FhbqWQOGqW5vLxEcH0cA8K6iNPxyx0v35TfCimnVUwanE5N38z9PvN4B7PJj8hGrNv4rS3pWUQMZ6E/s200/IMG_6439.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524543139306863282" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJwTV9PEr_joOfUEDVQH2Fg6GBcVh6aihXUcXWS5KOpa-ALn5MyOMlHYzq93ApkARXNrXrC0LhVqhumaQ-_7ad8qR6U3V9u0Vnb74QLTC4Puf_O73F_uvRLPnoAi3ihD5DHhZNihrxqM/s200/IMG_6266.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524532460421733234" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">From Galway we traverse lush countryside to stop-over at Mullingar in the Midlands at a B&B with the charming Richie and Margaret. For the final day of our trip, we explore Dublin, taking in the sights from the green tourist bus, laughing at the driver’s well-worn jokes, hanging out at the famous Temple Bar and drinking Guinness while singing along to Dirty Old Town.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">There’s something about Ireland that makes you want to wallow in your whiskey, sing and dance and celebrate the pathos and struggles and the passion and joy of life. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--></div>Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-50344672294886405862010-09-13T12:23:00.000-07:002010-09-13T12:52:31.162-07:00Aussie Party time for Justine<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJQ6AMRBpLCDX5RN1bLOrH_wq7banYZKth5L64d25eYiEkhPcWZj0TnnGygZQwGifEGf-spKFpu134MDUrUf3EL9wXVzSv6gE3kQkbvtPXM377btfByFvkMDe25v6O_HL4IDcF7WaGoI/s1600/46842_10150260062400366_828725365_14765609_2634565_n.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJQ6AMRBpLCDX5RN1bLOrH_wq7banYZKth5L64d25eYiEkhPcWZj0TnnGygZQwGifEGf-spKFpu134MDUrUf3EL9wXVzSv6gE3kQkbvtPXM377btfByFvkMDe25v6O_HL4IDcF7WaGoI/s320/46842_10150260062400366_828725365_14765609_2634565_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516487428477059010" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRZDMxPSCJ3elbr4j3ZIGp4Q4eDRJhvs0AKrmJ7FXfJHnxBG5dfzfdh9DFGZdO4ixRNfnYDDTAQT8LprB4TvdzvMRk5ttjp2JRLgk5W-jDrtEjQkBxsQflefDis_kWZEvVOvGIQ7VYK0/s1600/IMG_5280.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRZDMxPSCJ3elbr4j3ZIGp4Q4eDRJhvs0AKrmJ7FXfJHnxBG5dfzfdh9DFGZdO4ixRNfnYDDTAQT8LprB4TvdzvMRk5ttjp2JRLgk5W-jDrtEjQkBxsQflefDis_kWZEvVOvGIQ7VYK0/s320/IMG_5280.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516485557117899762" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">All </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">women who have ever entertained at home know it’s no small feat.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It started on Thursday. Usually, for just the two of us, I shop around the corner at the C</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">o-op and with smiling Sakti at the Fruit & </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Veg, but this party called for a trip to gourmet-splendiferous Waitrose.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Because we don’t own a car </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">si</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">nce moving t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">o the big city, and being impossible to haul 20 bags of groceries on the bus, we hired a car from the Connect club to pull off the mammoth shop.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When sis-outlaw Christine touched down at H</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ea</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">throw on Saturday morning, fresh from the Land of Oz, she set off with Andrew to pop in on Liz at Buck House while I got stuck into the wonder dips.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In the midst of the messy business of b</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">aking eggplants, (that’s aubergine to you English readers), boiling chickpeas, chopping garlic and chilli and squeezing lemons, I wondered ‘why bother’ with whipping up homemade dips whe</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">n I could rip the lid off the fantastic plastic in a snap and be done with it! Nevertheless I was eager to show off my healthy new cuisine to th</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">e party throng so I ended up with a mountain of Baba Ganoush and Houmous fit for an Arabian feast and Guacamole any Mexican mamma would be proud of.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The gooey lentil burger mixture was left to bind in the fridge overnight and the hand-ground pesto, bursting with fragrant basil, was set to go.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On Sunday, the day dawned bright and sunny. What a lucky break in Autumn which can swing either way. So we borrowed some chairs from the neighbours, Andrew zapped the mower over the tiny patch of lawn that is our backyard and </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">we assemb</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">led the seating and tropical drinks trolley alongside the squirrel feeder and jasmine bush.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I whipped up the now famous vegan chocolate cake loaded with the last of the summer raspberries. This was Justine’s 22</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">n</span></span></span></sup><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">d</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> birthday cake. She was in Australia for her 21</span></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">st </span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">with her larger-than-life, adorable boyfriend, Andreas who t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">hrew the most spectacular surprise birthday bash so this was our chance to give her a homespun party in our new digs.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As coincidence would have it, seemed every stray Aussie under the southern cross decided to blow in right on cue for the celebration; Auntie Chris was returning for the first time ever to Old Blighty after migrating in her parents’ arms as a </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">baby. Tom’s beautiful girlfriend, Hannah had arrived w</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ith her dancing shoes ready to take on West End. Emma’s parents Andy and Cathy were over from Bris Vegas and the marvellously mellow Ma</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">rcus had jetted in, all sun-kissed from Bali.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What a delightful collection of friends Justine has gathered around her in just 18 months of moving countries and getting established in London. It was a hoot to meet animated actress Teresa who could launch into an entertaining performance with every turn of the conversation.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jussy’s bubbly flat mate Gillian is the genuine article Brit amidst a bevy of Aussie chicks. Sweet young Emily is a girlfriend from Jussy’s high school days doing her Overseas Experience (OSE).</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Big Brother Daniel was looking sharp in a new jacket. He has made his little sister welcome in the UK by including her in his vast cir</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">cle of friends, amongst them the amiable, fun-loving Michael and his stunning finance Alma.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And the muso lads, Andy and Tom, Jordan and Kano were fast converting to my pitta pizzas, while soaking up the fading rays stretched out on the sun loungers. I’m sure the beer helped the chewy crusts go down!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My new gal pal, the flamboyant Chrissy made t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">he trip from Derbyshire to join the festivities and witness the extravagant speeches, our great family tradition. After proud dad, big brother and me had all made lavish tributes toasting our adorable Jussy, exubera</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">nt boyfriend Andy stepped up and sent shockwaves through everyo</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ne’s spine and sparked a collective gasp when he dropped to one knee to </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">propose! But it was just a teasing practise run for the real thing.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And then Devoted Dad suggested we go around t</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">he circle and everyone got to say nice things about Jussy. The love and genuine affection flowed like honey for a gorgeous girl with the kindest heart. But as her dad stated proudly, she is no longer a girl but a young woman in all her radiant beauty, on the threshold of h</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">er glorious 20s.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As if all this wasn’t enough to fill a mother’s heart to the brim, once we could coax Tom to pick up the guitar, the Beatles sing-alo</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ng session got underway. My lover-man was on the other guitar and everyone was in fine voice. Young Jordan graced us with a dramatic flourish on the keyboard.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was outrageous fun belting out old favourites until late into the night a</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">nd if the neighbours didn’t know we were Aussies before they sure did </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">after our rowdy rendition of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Still Call Australia Home!</span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was a night to remember and worth every bi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(153, 51, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">t of effort and all the washing-up (thanks Chris!) These celebrations are the reward for years of parenting, gifts from above, that make life rich and wonderful and make your heart swell with gratitude.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And by the way, for those of you curious about the results of my 28-day Detox, I have lost a total of 53 cms and now fit into my party dress and skinny jeans! We’re off to Ireland tomorrow. There’s no stopping me now!</span></span></span></p><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSRSUJCSBDwf7lnG5w5k4CZvkdpeZW8BVp4YBei2cr81hy4s_eWHpDTig25pWCCDTjZ6Tc4rzuqqiES9wN0RwxjJw1s2TM-pwDzYM-Up7Kc8ipwPqLOFmBYW8r3teMW52pfnATyZLTN0/s320/59791_10150260061750366_828725365_14765574_3626398_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516486761944671218" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wshi7soaCah-6BMJVizKmIi5wd6u3-jZfOsALfLMpiHoErkgx-_L8xJGqGLVzmmPvulAALTaKqF0S8XA5uGhztO3f11NUUEfiehveI3bXDp5E0bda6Eh_Vu_jG2n7bdATYY6M0j8jFo/s320/60968_10150260062550366_828725365_14765623_2831246_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516482856141408226" /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDrrQa7-kIKVhtXinhliNKNtVSisWi5QcGMBsK3FMZUKflN00Nayo-wUeGee21T3ck-L_AYaIXZuwAbTu3es3IDovFnBkemO-7iXsClXWOZ-QbimTLaTC0bEBG2DRumEJ_N7YM6H7CwU/s320/61318_10150260062680366_828725365_14765631_6662743_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516482443290153826" /> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-74863500124603416342010-09-06T05:34:00.000-07:002010-09-06T05:43:25.822-07:00Life Balance at Last!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OLa5RPPv4GNV6ONfNfv5Zu99QKLb5uiYE9v1BFEzeIMdrOw4nq-8ofF2KYIV1QDUMoAEeVOEr9ZwZb4yDIht-sMIw3U7j7Su8tOzbs0bNnPQGHj_13BQIgKaCfiVvmty3s5-2WCpyk8/s1600/4938864065_12af06cfc0_t.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OLa5RPPv4GNV6ONfNfv5Zu99QKLb5uiYE9v1BFEzeIMdrOw4nq-8ofF2KYIV1QDUMoAEeVOEr9ZwZb4yDIht-sMIw3U7j7Su8tOzbs0bNnPQGHj_13BQIgKaCfiVvmty3s5-2WCpyk8/s320/4938864065_12af06cfc0_t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513778722282774914" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Remember when you were in your highly-charged 20s, partying hard, looking for love in all the wrong places, battling hang-overs and dramas, sleeping late, scoffing junk food, working long hours, clashing with the boss, trying to pay your rent, buy your first car and save for that whirlwind trip!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Don’t worry, you were perfectly normal! The decade of your 20s is meant to be turbulent. It’s the stage of life when ambition and hormones are running rampant as you get on with the ‘psychological tasks’ of establishing your career, ‘mate selection’ and becoming an independent adult.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">In your 20s, you were biologically wired to seek a mate at this prime reproductive season and that’s why manic energy was poured into partying and pursuing attractive partners. But simultaneously you were striving to become an independent, capable adult as you aspired to gain an education, achieve on the job and manage your finances.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">That was a lot to master in a decade and it is no wonder that the notion of life balance was hard to grasp and even harder to pull off.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Along came the decade of your 30s and you probably found yourself raising a family while trying to hold down a demanding job and pay off a mortgage in between running the kids around to ballet classes and football games, supervising homework, battling loads of laundry, throwing barbecues for friends and scheduling ‘date nights’ with your spouse although you could barely stay awake for the romance! The 30s were exhausting!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Having survived the obligatory midlife crisis in your 40s when your marriage, health and/or career collapsed under the strain, you have now recovered your pep. Renewed and redeemed, you are sitting pretty, a little battered perhaps, but optimistic and resilient in the 50s, ready for a whole new exciting stage of life. Well that’s MY story anyway! And I suspect you have shared a similar jaunt through the decades because we humans are not really that different, as much as we like to imagine we are unique!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">This brings me to the elusive topic of life balance. Life can be divided into three core areas; career, relationships and healthy lifestyle. Having reached the maturity and wisdom of your 50s or older, you have probably achieved, quite intuitively, a natural balance of time spent in these three parts of life.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Your career is the domain of your intellect and by now you will be feeling competent in your chosen field with a stockpile of knowledge and skills while hopefully being open to learn more and adapt to new ways.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">You will be smart enough to limit the hours spent working to a reasonable amount; say four to eight hours a day. Whether part-time or full-time, paid or voluntary, your work represents the culmination of your career and life experience and a way to make a contribution to society and future generations.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">At this mature stage of life, you are wise enough to know that time invested into close relationships with family and friends is crucial to your wellbeing. It is wise to make quality time with your husband or wife, your grown-up kids, grandkids and other family members and long-time cherished friends. However it is still possible and vital to make </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">new</span></span></span></i><span style="font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;"> friends because new friendships are invigorating.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">I include ‘personal growth’ in the category of relationships because it is through close relationships with others that we really learn to heal old wounds, communicate and love.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Finally as an Empty Nester with kids flown the coup, you can reclaim the interests and passions of your youth and revive your Lost Self that was buried under a pile of mundane chores. This is the area of life I call Healthy Lifestyle.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">You should now have more leisure time to fill with enjoyable recreations, hobbies and interests. Make sure you put effort into keeping fit and healthy. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">My interests include travelling and discovering different countries and cultures. I have a massive bucket list of fascinating places to visit before I kick the proverbial.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">I love music. I never did achieve my ambition of becoming a famous folk singer-songwriter however I can now fully appreciate the musical talents of truly gifted performers! I plan to attend countless London clubs and concerts and see every West End musical several times!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">And I have a whole list of recreations I’m determined to have a go at over the coming decade! These strenuous activities include hiking on the Burren in Ireland’s county Clare (next week!) hiking in Tuscany, sailing in the Greek Islands, dancing in Spain, cycling in the South of France, horse riding in Montana and skiing on the Alps! I’m on my way to achieving my goal weight, ready to hit the gym to build core strength and muscles to support my skeletal frame so I will make ‘old bones’.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">50plus is the time to live life to the full and live life in balance; spending the right amount of each day devoted to the three important aspects of life to be a well-rounded, fulfilled and valuable human being. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;"> </span></span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-59575779018092627032010-08-31T05:43:00.000-07:002010-08-31T06:14:08.627-07:00How to Handle Regrets in Later Life<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3T_8k9SbqhRTU6pFyhMtXDsTBxMxSIIIee1otOT5JRSYKWSZhoo0Oh28aRawMb8TUeQ3u0_PN5EHr1YdMmhDH_ZjiJY5Xku3SoihPXcVVyWlm1rf3PISkwZCR1A_5J7IMVc_tfId12vs/s1600/2916114633_94db1194a5_t.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3T_8k9SbqhRTU6pFyhMtXDsTBxMxSIIIee1otOT5JRSYKWSZhoo0Oh28aRawMb8TUeQ3u0_PN5EHr1YdMmhDH_ZjiJY5Xku3SoihPXcVVyWlm1rf3PISkwZCR1A_5J7IMVc_tfId12vs/s320/2916114633_94db1194a5_t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511559491774702274" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As we get older we carry regrets, shame and remorse about things we've done and things we've failed to do.</span></span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You might think you are the only person with a secret stash of shame about past actions but take comfort in knowing everyone has done things they regret.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In the journey of life we have all made mistakes and hurt people mostly out of immaturity and selfishness in pursuing our own needs or acting out of painful emotions and unformed values.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Mistakes and bad choices usually centre around </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">the three biggies of life: relationships, career/finances and health/lifestyle.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You can regret and feel ashamed about past sexual experiences and relationship heartaches, past financial mistakes and misguided career choices and bad habits and unhealthy eating which has led to illness. Maybe you regret an accident that spun on a split second decision.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You can also regret what you failed to achieve </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">such as having children or wishing for more children; the failure to have a happy marriage, be successful, rich or famous or fulfil childhood dreams to develop a talent.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You can torment yourself by mulling over past regrets and wallowing in shame and self-loathing but it is a completely futile exercise because no amount of wallowing can change the past. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And such anguish is damaging to you</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">rself and those around you. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You cannot be your best in the present if you are mentally and emotionally beating yourself up for the past and feeling guilty and ashamed with family and friends.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Various schools of psychology offer three different coping strategies for dealing with the past. When you use all three together, they become a potent force in overcoming regrets and allowing you to embrace resilience, renewal and redemption. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The first coping strategy is emotional release. It is essential not to repress but rather to express painful feelings and get them out of your </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">system and process hurts, disappointments and grief. Experience fully your grief and remorse over your losses and the hurt you caused others. Crying is healing and so is journaling.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Most people need help in processing painful em</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">otions from people who are gifted with empathy, understanding and compassion. One to one counselling or group therapy is a way to healing and growth. When seeking professional help, be discerning in choosing a counsellor or a support group.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The second coping strategy is reframing. After y</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ou have expressed your feelings, it is essential to reflect rationally on the trauma or mistake and think it through from fresh perspectives. View yourself with understanding and compassion and choose to forgive yourself; accept a pardon for your mistake and stop the self-punishment.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Use mental disciple to accept that it has happened </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">and that no amount of wishing will change it. Stop tormenting yourself by churning over the painful event. Choose to forget it. Make a conscious choice to let go of regret and shame.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">See the positive side of the trauma or mistake. What good has come out of it? Funny how good can come from the worst situations. Consider what you have learned from this pain and how you have grown and deepened and how others how benefited too. Be grateful for grace.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Remind yourself of all the good things you h</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ave done in your life that outnumber and overshadow the bad.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Counselling or a support group can help with reframing as you receive input from caring, trustworthy people who can focus on the positive and show you forgiveness, acceptance and compassion.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The third coping strategy is to take action or change your behaviour. What can you DO to make amends for the wrongs you did in the pa</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">st? Can you make it up to people you have hurt? Can you say sorry and reconcile?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now you are older and wiser, show love to your family and friends every day. Share the joy of the present and build happy memories for the future.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Can you help others in some way? Can you help the younger generation avoid the mistakes you made or help other adults deal with similar traumas, grief and mistakes? </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The opposite of feeling shame is feeling good ab</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">out yourself. How can you be a better person and make a contribution to a better, kinder world? Find yourself a worthy cause and use you</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">r time to make yourself and others happy in the p</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">resent rather than waste your time wallowing i</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 102); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">n the past.</span></span></span></p><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOF8xWMovGheRFDkR002MYqEk3jwhyphenhyphen7dpE9LTH6lClIygmRzGBnqkDpiC5ZtD2VltZEhjGbQp92pPpoXf0qMN3jjKd4zlJfWbBeckJ-Gnp8_i9eGVDN5_EgriGxmCt1ZOFSnxheenrvPI/s320/128778186_725a68d245_t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511559675377793426" /> <!--EndFragment--></div>Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-22798294746265869042010-08-16T11:20:00.000-07:002013-01-03T02:07:31.755-08:00Forever Young: 28 Days to the New Me<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiph5WBbS0ezVW1Uq_T3jH_GwUwtguHNrkK3CjcfMI6yV8L0iYmz05K9IaeG-YFusCYx_OQPqbS_anshTTkZmoQKuvFRYOzXEphhpG3cIqXv6_c6663hJ6LdKRQOYJyy3yMibLefL7-0M0/s1600/IMG_4918.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506077813435428290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiph5WBbS0ezVW1Uq_T3jH_GwUwtguHNrkK3CjcfMI6yV8L0iYmz05K9IaeG-YFusCYx_OQPqbS_anshTTkZmoQKuvFRYOzXEphhpG3cIqXv6_c6663hJ6LdKRQOYJyy3yMibLefL7-0M0/s320/IMG_4918.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 286px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Some people want to look good naked. I jus</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">t want to look good in a dress.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I have gained weight to become a Size 12 on the top and Size 14 on the bottom, that awkward pear shape with a heavy bum a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">nd thighs (and the belly has expanded too!). I can wear separates, a top and pants, and disguise my thunder thighs but dresses are just too tight.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Well-fitted dresses are feminine. Looking good in a dress, curvy but evenly proportioned, is what makes us womanly. I want my shape back.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">So much for my vanity, I also want optimum </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">health. After years of focusing on my intellect and ignoring my body, I am finally ready, at 53, to discover a new level of vitality. I want to be agile and nippy as I dash and weave through the crowd in the Tube and city streets, dodging back packs and stragglers.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">It is harder to stay slim as we age because the metabolism slows down and the body insists on storing fat. But it doesn’t mean that being overweight in midlife is normal, natural or inevitable. It just means </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">weight is harder to manage.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">There is a healthy weight range for your skeletal frame and height. It is reassuring to know this range is quite wide and generous. For example, for my height of 5 foot 4 with a light frame, my weight can range between eight and 10 stone and be considered Okay. Between 10 and 12 stone is Overweight and more than 12 stone falls into the category of Obese.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">It is stating the obvious that being overweight has a host of unhealthy consequences such as lethargy, the risk of diabetes and constant strain on the heart, organs and all body systems as you lug the extra lard around.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">In my 20s and 30s, with an efficient metabolism, I could eat carbs all day and never gain weight. I stayed around eight and a ha</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">lf stone, a dainty size 10. Now I am a hefty 10 and a half stone. I don’t want to go back to my tiny figure but I would be happy with nine and a half stone, a comfortable Size 12, with no bits that jiggle; a flat tummy, pert bum and firm legs.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">So this is my mission and I am devoting a </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">month to regaining a slim, fit body and getting on track with super healthy eating and an active lifestyle.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Doing a detoxifying diet focuses attention on the digestive system, giving it a rest from hard-to-digest, acidic foods and replenishing it with nutrients while releasing a build-up of toxins through the lymphatic system, bowel, bladder, and skin.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">This is a new frontier for me. I am someone who has pretty much ignored my body until now. But I am developing a new respect for my body, as an entity in its own right with its own intelligence that keeps the whole complex business going despite my neglect!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">In my sudden discovery of my body, fortunately I have the guidance of talented trainer Morne and his beautiful, intelligent girlfriend Natalja who run the program called </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Forever Young</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;"> supervising clients thro</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">ugh a 28-day Detox program.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Morne and Natalja are keen to help overweight, menopausal, sedentary old chicks like me break entrenched habits and overcome food cravings to discover a whole new level of health, fitness and vitality.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">And so, the Show begins!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">On Monday, the first day of my Detox I ha</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">ve a severe reaction. By 1 pm I am throwing up and blindsided with a migraine. What have I done to make myself so sick? Eaten something horrible?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">No. All morning I had feasted on fresh fruit; delicious sweet raspberries, strawberries, blue berries, cherries, apricots, apple, banana and a few almonds! Followed by a big healthy green salad!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">By the time Morne arrives later in the day I am reeling with nausea and ready to call it quits, swearing off Detoxing forever, resigning myself to hauling around extra poundage and accepting mediocre health.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I was used to tea and toast with a generous spread of jam and peanut butter propped up in bed as my pampered start to the day, followed by a mid-morning coffee and biscuit at my desk. Now that’s not much for a girl to ask is it? Simple pleasures really.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">It was as if my body was behaving like a toddle throwing a tantrum demanding my Carb Fix and rebelling against digesting the sudden onslaught of healthy natural food.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Morne has a better explanation. He says when I stopped eating ‘bad’ food, that is, processed, hard to digest bread with a sugar </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">hit, my body saw a break in the traffic and seized the opportunity to purge toxins.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Now what is all this about toxins? I have been down that track before with Jeni Edgley at the Hideaway health retreat in the lush Gold Coast hinterland where I endured the seven-day cleanse complete with daily colonic irrigations. Now that is commitment to releasing toxins!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Older and wiser, I am now sceptical about New Age theories. Really, just how toxic could my system be on my new meat-free and dairy-free diet?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Since becoming a vegan earlier in the year, I have gone overboard on the soya milk, with great slurps in my tea several times a day. It turns out the brand I like is high in sugar! I have also devoured meat-su</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">bstitute products, which although better than meat, are still processed, not natural sources of protein.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">And okay, I admit I am addicted to bread, pasta, corn chips, potato chips, oil-soaked wedges, dark chocolate and the occasional glass of Red.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Morne points out very politely that I am eating a lot of ‘dead’ foods that lack enzymes and nutrients, which promote toxi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">city and acidity and a build-up of fat in the cells. (Might explain the thunder thighs!)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">My home-cooked eating habits, while better than most people’s junk food intake, are low in fresh, living nutrient-rich fruits and v</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">eggies and also lacking water. Most of us fail to drink sufficient pure water to keep up the supply to the body made up of 70 per cent water.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Morne eases me through my Detox Crisis and encourages me to persist by writing up my goals.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">The first question on the form is ‘How do I feel about my physical self and current state of health?’ I have to admit I am in denial and delusional about my weight gain, imagining I am still as slim as I was in my 30s.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I am also in denial about my lack of fitness because I seldom put it to the test! Gyms can be dangerous!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">But I am starting to worry about ageing and getting lethargic and sick as the years roll by. While my health is okay now, I realise I need an ‘intervention’ to prevent illness in the future.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">For everyone who has coasted through their 40s and made it to early 50s with few complaints, it is essential to take charge to preve</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">nt serious health problems in later life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I decide that NOW is the time to grasp the nettle and create new healthy eating and exercise habits for the rest of my life.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I want to lose at least one and half stone (eight kilos) and become lithe and agile again and fit into pretty dresses and suits (and give my pants and t-shirts a rest!)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I want to be revitalised so I can work out in the gym and get fit and strong for all the strenuous activities I aspire to over the coming </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">years (not all at once) such as travelling, hiking, cycling, kayaking, swimming, tennis, horse riding, snow skiing and dancing.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I want to WORK productively without stress and bad habits for three more decades. Like most people, I have to balance my time in front of the computer screen with physical activities.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I want to be fit, healthy and slim for another reason; to be an example of good health as a vegan and activist for ethical eating so I can influence others to Go Veggie. It is part of my world domination plan.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I want every human being on the planet to stop killing and eating animals. We now kill 57 billion animals every year for food, causing our fellow creatures immense pain, suffering and death, when tragically meat-eating is entirely unnecessary and unhealthy and the cause of most illness and disease and the abhorrent meat industry is the root cause of most environment</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">al damage. Visit </span></span><a href="http://www.viva.org.uk/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Viva!</span></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Morne suggests that I visualise my future self, the New Me, whenever I feel discouraged and lose motivation. So I have a mental picture of myself looking Ab Fab!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">But in my wretched state that first day, as a touching role reversal, my lovely husband, Andrew together with Morne, a big muscular body builder, went shopping at the health food store to buy all the Super Foods I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">need for the program.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">By Day Two my body has stabilised and accepted the deprivation of my tea and toast ritual and is gearing up for all the life-giving goodies. I’m a little light-headed but the vast quantity of food and water ensures I’m not hungry.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">I clear out my food cupboard and fridge and make up my own delicious salad oil with a potent combo of Hemp seed oil, Flax oil, Bragg Liquid Aminos seasoning, garlic and lemon juice. I start to really enjoy the Big Salad in a whole new way, crunching and munching and savouring the taste sens</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">ations then follow up with veggie soup.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">The program allows you to eat carbohydrates for dinner, but NO bread or pasta. I can get my carb fix from brown rice OR potato, not both at once. Bliss! I love my spuds! And I eat lentil burgers, tofu or hummus for protein.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Day Three, Morne visits for a pep talk and takes my measurements. Reality bites. How depressing! My weight has crept up to 68 kilos and I aim to shed at least eight kilos. And my waistline is missing in action! And those bat wings are ready for take off!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">By Thursday, Day Four, I am laughing at the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">irony of this so-called ‘diet’. I am eating so much </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">more</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;"> than normal. The point is to consume vast quantities of super healthy, life-giving fresh fruit and veggies to replenish and revitalise the whole body.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">And it sure is time-consuming chopping up all the good stuff. I just grated an apple, beetroot and carrot to add to my spinach leaves, bean sprouts, red peppers, tomato and avocado. And that’s just for me!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">This afternoon it’s veggie soup and lots of water. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">And I’m off to the health food store for more supplies and my favourite bargain store, Argos to buy a juicer.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Friday morning, though usually confounded by gadgets, I persist and get sorted with the bits and bobs of the juicer and make a delicious brew of apple, pear, ginger with spinach leaves and cucumber. Now I know what you’re thinking, something like ‘How vile!’ but to my utter surprise, it is delicious because the sweet of the fruit overpower the greens. There’s a lesson in that, Sweetness Rules!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Slow food is the antithesis of fast food. A Macca’</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">s burger can be purchased in minutes and wolfed down in seconds. Healthy food takes time in shopping for fresh ingredients (I am now the smiley Sri Lankan man’s favourite customer at the Fruit and Veg store around the corner) all that peeling and chopping, then the munching and crunching and the big clean up! But maybe this is how it should be, since food is the essence of our survival. Maybe meals should be a purposeful ritual as they is in so many other cultures.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">Saturday, out shopping at Westfield at Shepher</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">d’s Bush with beautiful daughter, Justine, I bust out from my regime and have a decaf soy latte, known to gay waiters as the ‘Why Bother’ cup of coffee! Usually I love the creamy texture but after a week of pure alkaline fruit and veg, it tastes acidic and icky.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">In a masterstroke of forward planning, I buy two new dresses in Size 12, to slide into when I reach my goal weight. Now some p</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">eople might buy new clothes as a reward at the end of a diet, but, always the optimist, I preer to give myself a tangible incentive!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">We meet Andrew in the city for dinner at funky Leon’s on the Strand and Jus and I have the veggie and bean curries and brown rice, proving it is possible to eat out and stick with healthy dishes. We see the delightfully entertaining stage show, Legally Blonde. I sit clutching my water, while An</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">drew indulges in ice cream at interval!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Sunday sees me at Gina’s birthday lunch sharing in a superb healthy feast, once again proving to myself it is possible to socialise without falling off the wagon.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Monday brings me to my first treatment of electrotherapy. I am rigged up to a machine with 32 pads placed over my body and experience a gentle pulsating sensation for a 40 minute session as th</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">e currents stimulate the tissue to break down fat and release toxins into the lymphatic system.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">This is Morne and Natalja’s secret asset in the quest for weight loss and super health and in conjunction with the pure diet promises to be powerful. I am privileged to be the first client to use the new kit! And I am glad to have some extra help from technology!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">But most of all I am grateful to have human help along the way. Changing comfortable habits is tough but essential to growth. I feel more balanced mentally and emotionally as well as physically after just </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900; font-family: verdana;">one week.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Thanks Morne for kick starting me on the roa</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">d to health! Read more about the program at </span></span><a href="http://www.elixirwellbeing.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;">Elixir wellbeing</span></span></a></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-37870829528658397412010-08-09T02:58:00.000-07:002010-08-09T03:10:44.617-07:00Middle-Aged Invisibility<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPI9yR-_brbEHYy791bS0oTKFZ2yY4rh-sqvfowom58j5Q3syDvLcxbg9NAurryAbvNs-hdBBJRANgEFvInFJieQoYN52XcVAUzcgCr8yL19Xz-PTgaQTxtkWUDBV_DHAzAymvEwJCY8/s1600/Scotland+August+2008.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPI9yR-_brbEHYy791bS0oTKFZ2yY4rh-sqvfowom58j5Q3syDvLcxbg9NAurryAbvNs-hdBBJRANgEFvInFJieQoYN52XcVAUzcgCr8yL19Xz-PTgaQTxtkWUDBV_DHAzAymvEwJCY8/s320/Scotland+August+2008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503348414769790514" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Women complain that they become invisible in public from the age of 45. Middle-aged women are ignored by service staff everywhere, especially if they are part of a couple. The man automatically seizes the focus of attention from waitresses, sales assistants and even strangers hanging about in airport terminals. </span></span></span></div><div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Travelling with my husband from Australia to London provided an opportunity to observe this absurd phenomenon, which would be highly amusing if I was not on the receiving end. When you are treated as invisible, it is not so much like having a super power, as downright insulting.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">On our last connecting flight from Zurich after a long, weary journey, my husband struck up a conversation with the businessman seated next to him. He chatted for five minutes, which was pleasantly polite, but when he continued the conversation for the entire flight, while ignoring me, I was hurt and teary.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">His choice was short-sighted. It was me he would be cuddling up to in the B & B that night, not the big-noting Canadian. It is the wise husband who has a brief courteous exchange with a fellow passenger then turns his attention back to his wife!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">When we made it to the Hire Cars at London Airport, I stood guard with the luggage while my husband approached the counter where there </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">were three services to choose from. He called out to me “Do you have a preference?” I didn’t want to leave the luggage to walk up to him with a discreet answer.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">We were travelling on a budget, so I replied loudly “The cheapest one I suppose.” In that split second, a young woman seated nearby shot him a smile and he smiled back, sharing a joke at my expense. I flushed, not with a power surge, but a twinge of betrayal and a jolt of embarrassment.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">News flash. Husbands, it is not your job to amuse people in public places especially when your wife is the butt of the joke. It is not your job to be a charming people-pleaser. It IS your job, the one you signed up for, to show respect to your wife.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Australian balladeer John Williamson reckons tha</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">t being True Blue is standing by your mate when she’s in a fight (or a tight spot at an airport or during an awkward moment at a cocktail party). It means showing unwavering loyalty to your best buddy even when she’s behaving badly!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">I believe such an act of kindness is called extending grace. You offer undeserved support and smooth over her social blunders because she’</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">s your Number One ahead of all casual acquaintances.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Granted, you can not control other people. It seems that women of all ages, from teenagers to old ladies, are biologically programmed to flirt with men of all ages, shapes and dubious features. My middle-aged husband, despite his salt and pepper ‘George Clooney’ spikes is apparently still attractive to younger women.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Most men with a pulse are suckers for a random female smile or stray flirtation, while pleading naïve innocence. However a clever husband resists the fleeting ego kick of momentary female flattery in preference for the flesh and blood woman by his side (even if she has more curves than the stick-figure in jeans). The mature man knows the difference between snacking on junk and feasting on wholesome nourishing meals!</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">When we arrived at the Real Estate office, I clued </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">up my husband to let me do the talking as I had been emailing the office for weeks. I engaged the attention of the forty-something woman for five minutes before her eyes shifted to Him seated on the couch behind me.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">She proceeded to lock eye contact, explaining the availability of rental houses in earnest, even moving to sit next to him to show the local listings up close! Despite my campaign of rapport-building emails, I was snubbed as a se</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; color: rgb(51, 102, 102); ">cond-class citizen and tag-along wife.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">So this is the curse of being a woman over 45. You are regularly treated with disdain by other women. Whatever happened to the sisterhood? Or perhaps this fierce competition and ruthless rivalry for male attention is symptomatic of a desperate divorce-wrecked society?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">As if female disdain is not bad enough, male interest in middle-aged chooks is zero. Middle-aged blokes can apparently impress young chickie-babes but we are invisible in public to all males under 70 who can still master bladder control and possess their own teeth. Spunky young guys just see Mother. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">The one consolation Baby Boomer wives can hope for is loyalty from a True Blue husband who appreciates the flirty gal he married all those years ago; his travelling buddy for life who will patiently pose for his happy snaps, laugh at his corny jokes and stroke his salt and pepper hair long after the skinny thing in denim has turned her pearly whites on another deluded middle-aged ‘George Clooney’.</span></span></span></p><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxhcvoTRkYi_MIj7Ibx1zHkCUaozb9wJ6944xZz8867JNhrGC02OzvDnZsPMyCDilTt32WrzYtUcLpTm9IIfpZzbyhncit1W8gsei6ijOToB_HbpLYqZCXyZxQFYkoTqUY1x5IFpVFVQc/s320/red+back+kiss+Acton,+London+july+2008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503348611336425378" /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US;font-family:Tahoma;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div></div>Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-37933964559327226152010-08-02T03:19:00.000-07:002013-08-19T03:14:40.455-07:00Letting Go of Grown-Up Kids<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrp3bSc1WwdLi-9Y5Lohwl49YHi21Tjcbe61YRQNka85QOZjAQyVIIU3c-0134FFEavwkit-gW20xpqb-Rc87-FXoraLz039i-Vh4Ub4KkPNld5bHGIDa3iLzdYgkrU0p53CGJG_6iZ8/s1600/386141_10152078074400366_853655273_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrp3bSc1WwdLi-9Y5Lohwl49YHi21Tjcbe61YRQNka85QOZjAQyVIIU3c-0134FFEavwkit-gW20xpqb-Rc87-FXoraLz039i-Vh4Ub4KkPNld5bHGIDa3iLzdYgkrU0p53CGJG_6iZ8/s320/386141_10152078074400366_853655273_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Leaving home is a process. Sometimes we must rip off the band-aid fast and feel the sting; other times ease it off gently.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">Number One son, Daniel had launched himself into adult life in spectacular style a f</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">ew years before. He is now a successful entrepreneur and acclaimed public speaker. Eventually it was Justine’s turn.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The first time our beautiful daughter left home she was 17, straight out of high school as a dazzling, award-scooping High Achiever.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In a blaze of glory she moved to Brisbane city, an hour’s monotonous drive from our Sunshine Coast home. We helped her transport her stuff to the tiny flat with her gal pal and toasted her freedom with a cup of tea over bulging cardboard boxes.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wandered around our empty house howling, bereft. My grief was premature however. She missed her friends and drove that tedious stretch home every weekend. We relished the whirlwind of her arrival and were dizzily swept up in her hectic social life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">The next year she moved back into her old room to go to college. In Australia we call this moving out and moving back home syndrome a case of Boomerang Kids. How long does a kid act like a boomerang? For some families it lasts throughout their twenties as depicted in the amusing Aussie TV show <i>Packed To The Rafters</i></span><span lang="EN-US">. But not for us. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">Like a magnet, Justine attracted a glittering arr</span><span lang="EN-US">ay of exuberant teenagers. Every night giggling, glamorous, leggy girls would file through our corridor as my husband Andrew and I sat in our PJs watching episodes of <i>Cold Feet</i></span><span lang="EN-US">, waving and smiling feebly at the youthful parade, feeling frumpy, self-conscious and obsolete.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Our Super Girl landed a plum job in a flash and hoards of the young and beautiful took over the house when, in a neat Baby Boomer twist, we the parents, took off to live for a few months in London and travel the States.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While we gallivanted, Justine and four girlfriends experienced sorority life in the House of Babes; her obligatory taste of communal living with all its delights and challenges!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When we returned from our globe trotting, our baby gir<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">l, at the tender age of 20, was ready to leave home for good. The pretty bird had found her wings and was poised to fly the nest, to pursue a career as a film actor.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When we waved her onto that plane, faces streak<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">ed with tears, this time we really did confront the bleak silence of the Empty Nest Syndrome.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But leaving home properly is an essential rite of passage en route to adulthood. It is a sad irony that parents, especially mums, if we do our job right and raise strong, capable, independent adults, are destined to be abandoned; at least in that initial wrench.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">In <i>Changes That Heal</i></span><span lang="EN-US">, psychologist Dr Henry Cloud outlines the stages of human development. First, children bond with their mothers, then they mu</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">st separate from them in order to ‘individuate’; in order to break free from enmeshment and become independent, mature individuals.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As mums, we must encourage our adult kids to leave us. Cheer them on. Take the lead. Be gung-ho. It is the toughest, most brutal call to cut the umbilical cord once and for all. But cut we must.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some mothers refuse to let their kids grow up. They don’t understand that standing up for themselves in their late teens and early twenties is just another stage of growth. Young adults are hard-wired to leave home as surely as babies must crawl and cruise and walk.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some mothers cling to the cosy dependency of infancy. They want the bliss of bonding forever. But that kind of smothering only breeds resentment and inhibits maturity. If grown-up kids fail to individuate and master every aspect of adult life, they can form unhealthy co-dependencies in marriage.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If parents are courageous and wise enough to encourage them to leave without guilt or fear, we will be blessed with a new kind of mature relationship when our children blossom into assertive adults; an equal relationship, full of mutual respect and honesty.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">In an exhilarating surprise, Empty Nesters discover that we are simultaneously faced with the opportunity to have another shot at becoming strong, independent individuals ourselves in what author Gail Sheehy, in <i>New Passages</i></span><span lang="EN-US">, calls our ‘Second Adulthood’. I wholeheartedly suggest parents seize their second chance with both hands.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So months after Justine had flown off and made her own nest in Shepherd’s Bush, we knew the ‘leaving home’ ritual was complete and it was safe to take off ourselves. So we landed, dazed and jetlagged, on her doorstep but the very nex<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">t day started house hunting and instantly found o</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">urselves new digs in West London.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Our little girl officially reached adulthood and returned to Australia to a 21<sup>st</sup> birthday surprise party thrown by her flamboyant boyfriend, Andy. He gave beautiful Venetian masks to all the young guests dressed in stunning evening wear before limousines gracefully transported them to a charming restaurant in the lush hin<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small;">terland. Justine celebrated her milestone in grand style. Once again we cried with overwhelming pride.</span></span></div>
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Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-80630368598766237172010-07-26T02:28:00.000-07:002010-07-26T02:57:15.884-07:00Discovering the Joys of Inner City Living<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUT4xCGHZmvWTiVSqwkksZOinnHcqenknWlV8rMK_JKr7fbo3XM0MGfbPw4iOx6DNJFx1NDiVpzlL_p-2B-9Js7Zjt85n0TGwc2w2r0jq_6GU6OypzMyXGNu2j9XaaqNHzWoV_nOVMLY/s320/small+for+blog2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498144887943834834" /><br /><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"><i><br /></i></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><div></div></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></i></span></p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 102, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Our leafy suburb in sub-tropical Australia was mind-numbingly quiet, apart from the odd yapping terrier or drone from a chorus of cane toads. Our social life was reduced to nodding at other dog owners when walking our Labrador on the rainforest track.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">We exchanged this coveted tranquility for the unpredictable exhilaration of inner city life in London, hoping to revita</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">lise our lives in our early 50s instead of sliding into the tedium of early retirement.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">We re-homed the exuberant Bonny to an idyllic farm with a creek and three energetic kids to spoil her. We sold our beautiful new house to a young family who can fully appreciate the parks and closeness to schools and surf beaches. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">In contrast, we now live on a busy road with traffic whirring past our bedroom right through the night. I suspect I will come to find the cacophony of traffic sounds comforting as I attune to the pulsating rhythm of our colourful neighbourhood. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSlUkCCTTlcz-TmU0mjGQ2L-ptmFfqID5qbxTjfCxltOqifybuy_amco3iVTUmc2uEdidilmGcODxS8dK9pCAg4NGZJKiOIze2dYqWcMvMnT8CFuXQmOOsk-vMJ7g3BZNB4BEAOJm_hM/s320/IMG_4911.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498148859584611794" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Saturday morning I venture to the local Post Office to find a motley mob, including one bedraggled young man in his pyjamas and leather jacket loudly discussing how to split the gas bill with his flat mate; not a bit self-conscious about his eccentric attire. I smile to myself at this flamboyant community I’m now a part of and join the queue waiting for parcels to be weighed and stamped by the polite Indian lady.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Next stop, I’m wondering if the Charity Shop is open on Saturdays so I can drop off a load of goods that, although shipped all the way from Australia, don’t fit into our new scaled-down house. I find the shop teeming with eager bargain hunters, a veritable feeding frenzy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">I have come down with a virus and head to the chemist, expecting gleaming, modern premises. But I find instead a quaint, old-fashioned store with a hunched old lady reaching for medications on lofty shelves and fumbling at the till for my change. I smile at the quirkiness of such independent traders, still alive and well in the historic streets of west London.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">To my utter delight, we discover the consummate English Pub within walking distance. It is a traditional pub straight out of my BBC fantasies. I’ve always wanted our very own ‘local’ so husband Andrew can wander down the boozer for a pint with the lads whenever he feels henpecked by the missus. The fact that he gets tipsy on one light beer is beside the point!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">One Sunday we venture to the nearby multi-cultural church, held in a fancy old cinema, offering up worship so overflowing that the vibrant African and Caribbean congregation of ladies in vivid dresses and headscarves can not suppress their joy and leap to their feet to dance. I love it! <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">I found out about the church from an elderly black man on the bus, who was nursing a bible on his knees. It seems only elderly men with failing eyesight find me interesting these days. Another kind old chap helped me onboard with the big rubbish bin and mop I bought from the Pound Store. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">But then, middle-aged women also notice each other when out and about in public. We nod and smile knowingly as if members of a secret society; understanding without words what it is to be a with-it old chook still holding her own amongst the Young and Trendy Texting Set. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">These days we are car-less so I no longer drive miles to the supermarket. I walk around the corner to my local Fruit & Veg and Co Op stores. Lugging bags of groceries along the gritty streets is so different from packing a load in the boot of the car!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">I also shop online and have clothes and household goods delivered straight to my door. The nice guys from Argos delivered our flat pack wardrobes and Andrew spent a weekend assembling them! Thankfully he’s a whiz with jigsaw puzzles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">The Tube is a new way of life. I study my trusty little Tube map to figure out which line to catch and where to change. Rattling along through the tunnels, squeezed tight with fellow commuters, I am amused at being part of humanity in motion. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Emerging from the underground is like being in Enid Blyton’s </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Magic Faraway Tree</span></span></span></i></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"> and popping into an exciting new land. Or maybe it’s like playing on a life-size </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Monopoly</span></span></span></i></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;"> board. Where will I land today? Bond Street? Leicester Square? Covent Garden? <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">As an explorer in the journey of life, I like all modes of transport. My daughter and I went horse riding in Hyde Park, clip clopping along like demure characters in a Jane Austen novel and hubby and I stroll and cycle all the local parks, reveling in the blooms of spring. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Here we are middle-aged newcomers to London and life is full and rich with new adventures. We shipped across all our furniture and belongings in a 20-foot container plus 60 more boxes of family history. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Our new house, although three-storey, has much smaller rooms than our Australian house so we’ve had to down-size; selling on e-bay the huge coffee table, my massive hand-crafted desk, the towering bookcases, the giant lounge chairs and the sewing machine and cabinet I never used anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">We have swapped a spacious Aussie home with its purpose-built media room and Big Screen, abundant storage space and large laundry for a cosy home with a clothes washer in the kitchen!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">But we are close to the Tube Station that transports us into the heart of culture, West End shows, galleries and museums, restaurants and pubs, markets and parks. Jump on the Piccadilly Line and we’re at Heathrow in flash. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">In the years ahead, I expect we will make new friends with newcomers from all over the world who have converged like us, to start new lives in this vibrant multi-cultural metropolis and we will host a steady stream of curious Aussie house guests. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">And our little West London home will be a refuge for our globe-trotting kids, their partners and friends and future grandkids. We’ve made a fair exchange. In the ever-changing Journey of Life, London is an enthralling destination. </span></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--></div>Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524279397102758260.post-21660576967370060622010-07-19T08:19:00.000-07:002010-07-19T08:28:43.794-07:00Moving Countries in Midlife<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBgtCP5aRyK78NzFooRG34j1jPMslec867eSc6gz7bfKVNdAiBPgk7ezVrGKdKjES1EkWPoR3t1DDVEyqXbl0yzNp6La7qG4pQsQ3SoNQuIA_gAE5ZU-UOkIbDP-u1uTPR2MIJ-enUn0/s1600/IMG_4567.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBgtCP5aRyK78NzFooRG34j1jPMslec867eSc6gz7bfKVNdAiBPgk7ezVrGKdKjES1EkWPoR3t1DDVEyqXbl0yzNp6La7qG4pQsQ3SoNQuIA_gAE5ZU-UOkIbDP-u1uTPR2MIJ-enUn0/s320/IMG_4567.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495639416620428946" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Tahoma, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">At midlife, with kids grown up and flown the nest, it is hard to make a major life change. But for me, it was harder NOT to, harder to be stuck in a rut, harder to stagnant. My once-flourishing career and fulfilling lifestyle had hit a dead end.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> Our family had lived and thrived on the idyllic, sub-tropical Sunshine Coast in Queensland for 18 years. We had raised our kids in the laid-back beach culture. I had enjoyed an active role in the community as a journalist with the Sunshine Coast Daily, survived a high profile term on council and run a counselling practice.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> I was proud I’d made a contribution but had to face the fact I’d exhausted my career opportunities and felt like a frustrated gold fish swimming in futile circles in a fish bowl, yearning to leap into a bigger pond.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> I was gripped with the gut feeling I’d run my course in the Land Down Under and it was time to move on to new challenges and satisfy the longing to live ‘overseas’.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> Moving countries is no mean feat. It requires a massive dose of motivation, which can only be driven by extreme optimism.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">In seizing the courage to migrate, I didn’t need criticism. I needed the unconditional encouragement of a cheer squad. I did have a few supporters, including my mum, whom, despite how tough it was for her to be left behind, unselfishly encouraged me to pursue the dream I’d postponed for 30 years.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">My mother remembers me in my early 20s, as a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed cadet reporter, with a dream to jump on a plane for Fleet Street, having embraced the original Lois Lane as my childhood role model.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">I would rush home from school every afternoon to watch Superman; not for the heroics of the man of steel but for thrilling exploits of that feisty newspaperwoman. My plan took a long and winding detour due to family tragedy when my brother was killed in a car crash. So mum, of all people, knew the unfinished business in my heart.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">However it seemed almost everyone else had a cautionary opinion. Friends warned us against the bleak English winters and implored, in universal disbelief, “</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">How could you leave the sunshine?” </span></i></span><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">Some insinuated it was almost disloyal to want to live in another country.</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">The truth is I found the sweltering humidity unbearable. I would pour with sweat in a frenzy of menopausal madness 24/7. My only respite was hiding at home in the air conditioning and when forced to venture out in my car, it was like driving in a mobile sauna!</span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">And what about the legendary English winter? Here is a confession. After years of humidity and wearing sandals and singlets, I actually enjoyed rugging up in boots and jackets and the bracing sensation of chill on my cheeks! To see a blanket of pristine snow cover our own little backyard was a thrill!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">And now it is summer and light until 10pm. Many Aussies don’t know about the beautiful English summers when dappled sunshine is like a gentle embrace on evening strolls in the park and magical nights in the city. They haven’t tasted the succulent raspberries and cherries from Kent!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">I love experiencing four distinct seasons, seeing gardens explode with pretty flowerbeds in spring and crunching leaves underfoot in autumn.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">What about our careers? </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">As a journalist seeking fresh stories and meaningful causes to champion, being based in the UK has opened up unlimited possibilities. And Andrew’s business is thriving.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">I felt isolated in far-flung Australia and nursed a dull ache from the tyranny of distance. At this mature stage of life, I want to fully participate in global issues.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">After a hectic year living in London, I’ve discovered a real love of city life and culture, the fabulous concerts and shows, museums and galleries, buzzing street activities, festivals and attractions. We enjoy the multi-cultural mix of people and delight in riding the Tube and local buses. Public transport is still a novelty!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">We relish exploring the genteel English countryside and quaint villages. Our roots are English, Irish and Scottish. After decades in exile, we have reclaimed our heritage. We are also keen to travel widely and Heathrow is an ideal launching pad to Europe and exotic destinations.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">Our move has opened up a rich and fascinating lifestyle where we can continue to learn and grow, not wind down and retire. It’s challenging some days to muster the energy but I’d rather jump on a train than plonk on the sofa.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">It is a bonus that our two adult children are living in London. They moved here first, blazing the trail. We are re-united as a family unit and have recreated a stable home base for our 'kids' and young travellers.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">Some city-jaded, bone-chilled Brits might yearn to swelter in the distant tropics, frolic on sun-scorched sand and feel the rush of wild surf. Personally I have seen enough beaches to last a lifetime.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">So we have left a spacious new home on the other side of the planet and I am sitting here at my desk in my cosy loft in West London and couldn’t be happier. Making a major change at midlife is not easy but it opens up an exhilarating vista of surprises.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Tahoma;"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Diane Priestleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13127873201576326389noreply@blogger.com10