Running with Baby

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Noosa is a place where there is a high percentage of the population keen on keeping fit. No doubt the gyms are fully utilised but many like to be seen doing their fitness activities. We have gangs of bicycles on the roads with the men and women in their lycra. They usually end their fifty mile ride in the coffee shops clomping around in their odd shoes and padded bottoms. Joggers run the myriad of tracks and footpaths. Personal trainers can be seen in the ovals and along the riverbank torturing those that are desperate to get their bodies in shape. Group classes are also held along the river. Dog walkers abound, but that perhaps is not for personal fitness so much as giving the dogs a treat and a lot of exercise of the jaws as proud owners chat whilst their pooches play.

The other day whilst I was exercising my dog and my jaws a jogger with pram flashed by. The speed so fast that she was gone before, almost, I’d realised that she was there. At that point I wished I was a psychology researcher for I’d most definitely ask “what effect does running at such speed have on the psyche, if any, of a baby lying in a pram moving against the line of sight?  Would it make the child fearless of extreme sports and fairground rides or more so? ”

I blame my father for my fear of driving on steep winding roads. He had no idea that his practical joking on these byways would lead to a lifelong terror for me. I know how uncomfortable I felt when on a hospital trolley being wheeled from emergency to a ward when it seemed that the wardsman was wheeling me at great speed through the hospital corridors and tunnels with me looking only at where we had been. I know I never choose to travel backwards on a train but always choose a seat that faces the direction I am going.

I wonder if the mother’s are getting fit but what effect does it have on the child? What do you think? Perhaps you know of some research that has already been done.

 

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Oddly located Sheep: Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge

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© irene waters 2016

It struck me as odd when I pulled up at my local servo for petrol to have at the bowser next to me a trailer full of sheep.

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To my knowledge it is too wet for sheep on the coastal areas. Not only does the high rainfall lead to things like foot rot we also have one of the highest incidences of ticks in Australia. When I was growing up wheat and sheep went together out on the drier western plains. I guess I should not find it odd as times change.

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But this was really the only sheep like creature I expected to see where I live.

In response to  Cee’s odd ball challenge.

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Pancake Rocks: Black and White Sunday

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In response to Paula’s black and white Sunday

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27th November 2016 Weekend Coffee Share

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Welcome. So glad you managed to make it on such a muggy day. Although the temperature is only 25.9 degree centigrade the perspiration is rolling off me today. It was too much for our elderly spaniel and I had to sit and wait with him whilst Roger went and got the car to take him home. I think that walks up to the coffee shop in the middle of the day are now officially off until winter returns. Luckily we normally do their first walk between  6 and 7 and their afternoon walk after 4pm so it is a bit cooler for those and he goes for a swim in the river as well.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that after our morning walk I took Muffin to the dog Xmas party down by the river. There were oodles of people enjoying the river. I was surprised because I thought at 7.30am it would be fairly quiet.

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© irene waters 2016

There were a lot of owners and dogs but from my Wednesday night class only 4 turned up. I met the service dog that my instructor has been training for work with an autistic child. The dog is being flown to Melbourne tomorrow to start with a young boy. She was telling me that often children who have never spoken will start to talk because of their dog. The animals are taught to recognise inappropriate behaviours, situations of stress and lots of tricks to entertain and give the child immense pride in what his animal can do. It helps to build confidence. The dogs are also taught tracking skills as running away from situations is common with autism. Some of the dogs are taught to recognise the odour of epileptic fits. It is a marvellous service for those that are in need.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you Muffin is a long way from being a service animal of any sort apart from giving lots of love. She is however doing well at training and the other night sat her level 2 exam which we passed with flying colours. She was also good in class as you can see by the photo. We are doing a lot of off lead work and being in such close

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© irene waters 2016

proximity to other dogs and not interracting with them is one of the hardest tasks to do. All the close were very good.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that we have found accomodation for 6 months. It is only 1 house removed from where we currently are so we will over the next 6 weeks walk our stuff down the road. Although we are paying rent for a month longer than we wanted to it is a real relief to know that we aren’t going to be homeless. Finding a rental over Christmas and with our cruise thrown into the mix and 2 dogs I have to admit I was having a few sleepless nights at the thought.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that my week has alternated between work on my manuscript and packing boxes. I know that is what I have been doing for weeks now and even I am getting bored with the whole thing. I have read a book called The Paperchase by Marcel Theroux which won the Somerset Maugham award in 2002. He is the middle son of Paul Theroux and seems to have inherited his wonderful language and storytelling skills. It was a mystery novel with a difference which I won’t reveal but it got me in and I read it quickly.

That is probably about it for me this week. How about you? How has your week been? Did you have a good Thanksgiving for those of you in the States? How has your weather been? Any good books or films to recomend? Gosh I have been remiss. Would you like a cup of something before you go?  Thanks Diana for hosting our coffee shares.

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Walking Lake Weyba: Silent Sunday

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© irene waters 2016

Posted in Australia, Noosa, photography, Silent Sunday | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

It wouldn’t be this time of year without Water

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It wouldn’t be this time of year without water whether it be surfing at the beach

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swimming in a harbour pool

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building sand castles

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© irene waters 2016

swimming in a lake

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or in a backyard pool.

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Walking, reflecting at the waters edge

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or just sitting by the river. This time of year would not be the same if water was not present.

In response to Weekly Photo Challenge

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Skywatch Friday 25th November 2016 Noosaville 3.59pm

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In response to skywatch Friday

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Mind the Gap: Weekly Discover Challenge

Until I launched into my university career in recent years the only gap I minded was the one on the London Tube. Although my last tube travel was in 1993 I can still hear with clarity the voice booming from the loud speaker “Mind the Gap.” My mind boggled as I wondered how many people had disappeared between the platform and the train which immediately would have me thinking back to the one I had personally seen. I was doing a dance class at East Sydney tech in the school holidays. The teacher was Robert Helpman and I was thrilled to be in a class with such a distinguished dancer. My family were newcomers to the city and as such I was at thirteen unskilled in the art of train travel. I had taken my seat facing the door and watched in horror as a woman tried to jump on the train as it was pulling out from the station. She disappeared between the platform and the train. The emergency bell was pulled and the train was stopped quickly. I felt as though the world had frozen with the only picture I was seeing the look of surprised terror on the woman’s face as her arm flailed in an attempt to save herself. In that gap of my memory I can feel my nausea still and the chill dripping from my brow. I watched the retrieval in the hope of good news but all I can see is her bloodied body. But did I fill the gap? I’ll never know. I did not however return to dance classes.

Now, as a researcher, the gap is exactly where I want to be, most of the time. Early in my research journey I didn’t truly understand this and when I went to a conference in New Zealand whose theme was “Mind the Gap” . I struggled to write a paper. Was the gap a gap in knowledge and certainly sequel memoir which was the subject of my research is not an area that has been examined by many. Was the gap something else. I found on attending  I was lost in the gap that opened like a gaping hole. Many of the papers went above my head. Everyone sounded so intelligent, apart from me. The paper I gave titled Reading Between the Lines: Couser’s High Definition Memoir, to my ears sounded simplistic and puerile in comparison to others that I listened to. I did notice, however, that those attending my paper paid attention. Computers weren’t being used, people were not using their phones and sending messages — instead they appeared to be listening.

Now nearing the end of my research journey, the gap is no longer a place I fall into feeling helpless and inadequate but rather it has become the place I want to be. It is there that knowledge can be gleaned. It is the starting point and the place where interpretation of the experience and reflection takes place. It is also a place for self reflexivity and where analysis of traditional methods occurs. It is the place between myself and my creative work. The place where problems arise, where thoughts are provoked, challenged and illuminated. It is within this gap that the research question will be found and answered.

In response to Weekly Discover Challenge

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Purple Iris: Floral Friday

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A Campfire Yarn: 99 word Flash fiction

They sang kookaburra sits in the old gum tree followed by  Kumbaya then waited, the flickering flames illuminating their fresh, expectant faces.  ‘Bunyips’ll be out tonight’ Hank said. ‘I saw it crawl out of the swamp. Part emu and crocodile with a platypus bill which ended with a thing like a chainsaw. Huge claws. It picked Veronica, sat next to her. We relaxed whilst the bunyip hugged the breath from her.’ As if on cue a blood curdling scream came from the bush, drowned out by the children’s screams. “Mythical am I?’ The Bunyip slithered toward them.  

Many a campfire I’ve sat around roasting marshmallows, singing songs, all of which I could probably sing off by heart still. As the nights wore on the singing slowed and the scary stories would come out. Sometime we would light black boys flower spikes(An Australian plant which probably now has a politically correct name) and we would head off in single file searching for Bunyips, an aboriginal mythical creature. When Charli posted her prompt for this week all these nights came flooding back. Did you sit around campfires singing?

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© irene waters 2016

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© irene waters 2016

The prompt for this week:

November 17, 2016 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that is told around a campfire. It can be a bonfire, burning trash can, a fire pit, something flaming outdoors. It can be a prop, and you can tell the story of anything — ghosts, ancients, jokes. Who is gathered and listening? Note the extended date (Happy Thanksgiving to US writers; may turkey take our minds off the one about to enter the White House.)

Respond by November 29, 2016 to be included in the compilation (published November 30). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

To all American writers and readers I hope you have a very Happy Thanksgiving.

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Posted in creative writing, flash fiction, photography | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments