Odd Eye balls: Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge

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© irene waters 2016

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In response to Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge

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Weekend Coffee Share June 19th 2016

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Welcome to a wet, quite warm but miserable day. The sky is solid grey and the rain has been varying between light and pelting down. Inside is so cosy looking with the lights on and the kettle on the boil and some oreos on a plate. We have just found oreos – a vegan friendly biscuit and moorish. I went out last night and Roger ate an entire packet, by himself. Not to worry — I anticipated that after we ate the first box so I stocked up with a few packets so there are plenty to go around today.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that I feel as though a weight has lifted off my shoulders having submitted my thesis. Yeah! What a joy. I had no idea, however, of the number of tasks Roger has been keeping on hold until I was free to do them. I haven’t stopped all week and can see that there is a number more weeks before I finish everything I had let slide. Then I want to redo the parts of my first memoir that the lawyer suggested needed to be altered (still telling the truth but in a different way) so that we wouldn’t be at risk of a lawsuit.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you about the spectacular sky that followed the spectacular skywatch Friday sky. It was similar however it had the addition of pink billowing clouds rising straight from the sea, as if it were on fire. Mind you I am guessing that they came out of the sea because I didn’t go down that early in the morning.

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© irene waters 2016

If we were having coffee I’d tell you that I am saying goodbye to my friend who is moving back to Sydney. She was my matron of honour at our wedding and our lives have been full of good-byes and hallos as we moved between countries and within the country whilst they lived in Sydney until finally we ended up in the same place in retirement. As you get older, I am becoming aware, that women want to be near their children so she has decided to move back to Sydney to be close to them. Farewells become sadder as you get older, particularly as one half of her partnership died recently, you are aware that this may be the final farewell. Hopefully not for many years but we don’t get to Sydney that often. Tonight however we are sharing a meal from her freezer at our place cooked by Roger. She told us she had a lamb shank to share. We looked at her in surprise. ‘One lamb shank won’t feed three of us.”  Roger said. “It’s too big for me to eat” she said. This morning she dropped it off. The lamb shank we think is actually a leg of lamb and would feed a multitude. It should be roasted but instead we are shanking it. Roger had already started to prepare for a shank.

I’d better go and set the table. Thanks for dropping in and now it is your turn to tell me about your week. What you have been up to and what you are reading. I’m reading Germaine Greer’s “White Beech.” I’m not far into it but I can tell I am going to enjoy it. So far at any rate she is taking up the fight for biodiversity with the same zealousness as she took up feminism in the second half of the 20th century. It also came as a shock to see that she had cited my brother in her first chapter in a paper he had co-written in the 80s. How could I not like this woman.

Now I really must go. The dogs have finished eating so my excuse for staying here has gone.

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© irene waters 2016

Thanks to Diana for hosting our coffee morning. Thanks for dropping by.

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Head Above Water: Silent Sunday

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© irene waters 2016

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Curves: Weekly Photo Challenge

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Man replicates nature

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as best he can

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with curving archways

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bigger although not necessarily better

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Than the curves that naturally occur

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along river banks

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in animal life both in the past

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and in the present

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soft, huggable curves

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and curves that frame

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and wonder as to where this curve will lead.

In response to Weekly Photo Challenge

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Wink murder: Friday Fictioneers

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© John Nixon

It was Andreana’s sixteenth birthday. She chose the games they played,  pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, blind man’s bluff and pass the parcel. She’d seen the smile Alec gave Veda. Miserable, she wanted to cry. Instead she demanded hide and seek. Alec was It. He’d made a great show of hiding his face by climbing half into the old piano. Everyone laughed then hid. Alec didn’t come searching. Eventually, bored they left their hiding places.

“Bloody Alec. Always playing the fool.” Veda screamed as she saw the scissors.

Andreana smiled. No-0ne knew she had been playing wink. 

 

Wink murder is a parlour game where a secretly selected player winks at players, killing them. The remaining live players have to work out who is the winker.

In response to Friday Fictioneers with Rochelle with a photo prompt by John Nixon. Go to Rochelle’s site and follow the frog for other Friday Fictioneer offerings.

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Skywatch Friday: 17th June 2016 Noosaville 4.50pm

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© irene waters 2016

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© irene waters 2016

In response to Skywatch Friday More photos on Irene Waters photography page FB

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Analog:Weekly Discover Challenge

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Artist Charles Blackman photo © irene waters 2016

Devoid of ideas I resorted to asking my husband for something I still do in an old fashioned, analog way. I don’t wash the clothes as depicted above although I do remember a time in the past where they were.  I have gone with the times, embracing technology, although, not always with glee. I believe that unless you keep up with the changes as they happen, the eventual headache will be of splitting proportions when eventually there is no choice but to take them on as the world insists on the use of technology to function in it. Even such basic functions such as freehand  writing are becoming a lost art, at least to me.

My husband’s answer surprised me as I had not looked inwards for an answer. He immediately said “you are patient, don’t blow your own trumpet, respectful and non-judgmental.” Just by writing this I feel as though I am blowing my own trumpet but it made me think. Perhaps our emotions and our way of being can be either analog or digital also.

Let’s take patience. In the analog age there was no choice but to be patient. We had sayings “a watched pot never boils” and most of us lived this way. We didn’t have credit cards and had to save our money to purchase anything we wanted. Items weren’t disposable and were highly valued because of the amount of labour that went into their purchase. In the digital age items are disposable and purchased then and there,  often on a whim and on a credit card. The joy they give lasting until the next item is desired.  The digital age doesn’t have the patience to wait but rather demands instant gratification. This instant gratification is required across all facets of life and if it is not forthcoming, rather than persevere until the task, skill, purchase is mastered, the digitals will move on to something else.

Blowing your own trumpet is both good and bad. Growing up in what can only be described as a Victorian household we were taught to be seen and not heard as children. In the digital age children are forefront and are often the focus of the conversation, the children controlling the adults. As an analog age non trumpeter there are definite drawbacks. One obvious one is the marketing of myself as an author. I just cannot tell you how wonderful I am or the book is. The digital age author has no such problems. However, for the digital age child getting knock backs and criticisms must be so much more difficult because they are going to fall from a far greater height than those from the analog age.

Respectful and non-judgemental I believe, despite my husband, are attributes that can belong equally to both analog and digital age people. I have met some young people who I have been most impressed with and others I have not. At the same time there are those from the analog age, my age, that hold extremist viewpoints. It boils down, I believe, to exposure to the world and the knowledge that the world over, people are people with the same basic needs and desires.

However, I believe that when these ways of being are put in combination the digital age are far more likely to react violently and with rage. We have road rage, one hit punches and worse in the United States where, without gun control, personal rage (often in the name of terrorist groups) kill countless numbers of innocent people such as we saw in Orlando recently. If this is the digital age of emotion I’m glad I’m still in analog.

In response to weekly discover challenge.

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Lotus Flower: Floral Friday

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© irene waters 2014

 

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Here and There: Thursday’s Special

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© irene waters 2016

Some countries allow you to be in a time warp — being both here and there at the same time. In Vanuatu the boys from the bush would occasionally visit. On this occasion they had taken Roger and I and the doctor at the time ,(Victoria B.C. looked after our hospital and the highly trained specialists that came took sabbatical from their normal jobs to man the hospital for six months), and his wife had employed these men to guide us through the rainforest from one side of the island to the other and back again. During the walk we were enmeshed in a world of the past, no trappings of modernity (apart from my camera) were in sight. On our return, as the nambas clad men sat as westerners on the edge of the pool, throwing back a tusker (beer) and sucking on a cigarette. The incongruity of the situation was not lost on me and  I could not help but be aware of the here and there.

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© irene waters 2016

In a small mountain hamlet in Vietnam, the here was very present in the building design, the décor and in those we encountered however Roger, a soccer addict, became immersed in the there as he watched Germany play a home match.

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© irene waters 2016

In Cambodia these steps were designed to put you there. They were so steep that to walk up was almost a crawl. Designed to lift your eyes to heaven and presumably that was where you went as you climbed to worship at the top, eyes still lifting upwards. However for those visitors retreating they were very much in the here and determined to get down without falling or sustaining an injury.

How often are we there

When we should be here

And sometimes

We are both here and there

Incongruities

Juxtapositions

Colliding worlds: life.

In response to Paula’s Thursday’s Special

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Don’t lose a Day: Weekly Smile

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© irene waters 2016

When I came across this poster on a colleagues door I couldn’t help but think how true it is. Time spent being miserable is a waste of time and the time wasted can never be regained. How much better to spend it with a smile, even a forced one, allowing the right synapses to be made creating happiness and a feeling of well-being.

In response to Trent’s Weekly Smile

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