Georgiezine

Been given a range of early 80s Australian music which includes a song by Serious Young Insects titled "I want Cake", which cannot be played in front of the kid. "I want!" is our least favourite phrase and I'm gearing him up to hear "You want it but you don't need it". The kid is very cute at the moment and loves to clean (this photo is from childcare. I only get him to do the dishes at home...). He has been vocally workshopping some of his opinions about our childrearing tactics with his soft toys, Elmo and Rabbit, or more recently, my left shoe and right shoe. In a coincidence, Terence sent me the photo of Brixton markets, as I was halfway through "Colour of memories" by Geoff Dyer, in which 80s characters spend a lot of time frequenting the Brixton market. 

Last Sunday night we decided to drive up and down laneways of Kilkenny just to get a feel... old converted shop front cottages, converted churches, some factories, some empty factories, many a graffitied long wall, lovingly planted gardens, large playground complete with wooden fort.  At our friends house, kid kept himself busy with a miniature barrow he filled with autumn leaves, made vain attempts to befriend the cats (Rumpus, Pickles) and sat in Megan's lap. She collects things I like-50s ceramic cups, vintage pictures, frisbees. Ali declined roller-skating has game-app developer vertigo.... At printmaking, we sit around and do our thing-last Wednesday was hand painting screens in our designs (everyone made rapid decisions-mine was Emerald City, Michael's was RIP Hazel Hawke), and talk about stuff. Discovered Simone grew up in South-East, not too far from me ("we used to go there for school excursions, it was the big smoke"), and swapped notes about the video arc...

On Saturday we "did" the inner west primary school fete scene. First stop was Birchgrove Primary. The kid slept through everything whilst we browsed for books and acquired a second hand tool bench for the kid, which successfully flat packed for the return trip to Adelaide. The view of Cockatoo Island was quite amazing. Saw Home & Away cast. Wow! Then we headed off to Ferncourt Primary in Marrickville: Kids bands, parent bands, quiet zones for reading, favourite novelists, favourite minor character actors, fire engine and the best food options. Very involved parent group, a lot of creative expression and parents that looked like they'd just stepped off the international DJ circuit. Sunday was all about Taronga Zoo, though sitting at the ferry wharf drinking coffee made by a teenager was even better than seeing animals, for me at least. Visited the Jeff Hall photography exhibition at MCA and saw some old screen prints from the 70s, which en...

My ambitions were somewhat grand. Saturday I had a timetable of markets,  Rollerskating, orchestra and Vietnamese. The reality was. Rollerskating-non event, as kid fell asleep. Orchestra-goal achieved! Vietnamese with friends-goal achieved! We had playground trip where Duckworth's fears about how soon his son would be acting out, were verified (14 month old ran away; also intently watched the naughty actions of the older kids).  Our dinner was great, Pho Hoan, which is quieter, more kid friendly to eat in, and had great mango smoothies, great pho and great broken rice dishes. Sunday's goal was open garden. This was slightly more challenging-had deleted the email invitation, yet organised friends to meet us there... but it turned out even more successful. I sat on a hill whilst son ran around with the offspring of familiar people/couples, Nick and I admiring things from nature that we couldn't name-"look at those trees. Those flowers. Those shrubs. Those she...

Last night I cycled to visit friends in the neighbourhood. Quite honestly, that has been my goal ever since I left Tasmania-to live in walking or cycling or train-line distance of friends again. Megan and Ali have moved into West Croydon* and Meg and Pete live in cycling distance-achieved! The evening cycle is so enjoyable. The night before I'd looped around the semi industrial estate near the bus depot (you have a birds eye view of the buses, looking Thomas Tank Engine style child-like, when you pass over on the train line), before weaving my way through all the neighbourhood parks, passing the AFL training session and cutting past the cemetery. I couldn't find my all time favourite 1960s house though... Last night I needed to use a printer-my friends have been similarly in the mode of house spring cleaning. I found them succesfully filling a beanbag chair with beans-hard task. Today I was feeling a little concerned. Whole day with the kid, and no car, thus no suburban exc...

In November,I visited Port Pirie, which provided me an opportunity to visit the cathedral where my grandparents were married. Lest I got too excited about how nice it looked, this is the rebuild-the original cathedral was burnt down in the 50s. The Missions to Seaman building, with the lovely blue/white Wedgewood style plaque, was near the Greek? church, and then the Bushells sign completed that blue streak. I do love the hand-painted advertising signs: Bushells, Rosella; there are many in Broken Hill. Another thing I love is attending picnics and parties in the park. We held the Kid's first birthday in Tusmore Park, and attended Zavi's party in Kensington Park-here he's partaking in the sack race, he refused to get out of the sack and won a pencil case for "most enthusiastic" participant.

This evening, I was reading to the kid. Every book I read at night time (and many books I read in the day) are about going to sleep. The message is getting through. When I read out the catchphrase "Do you need to go to sleep?" he closed his eyes and made pretend snoring sounds. So much fun! He had a busy evening rearranging baking trays and lego displays and trying to build the tallest lego tower that wouldn't fall over and eventually I found art invites and lego in the oven. I also decided to empty my handbag. Open bills. Sort my life out. Try and get back on track. This is all prompted by asking a colleague for something from her handbag (I shudder to think what-hopefully money, hopefully not a tissue) and seeing her sort through clutter that included the voting slip from 2010 Federal Election. Anyway, I found a diary entry, scribbled on paper, which I may have written here in different form: "Different films I've liked that have been 'mood' number...

20 months. My husband thinks he's on the cusp of being advanced, except he's always walking around with a dummy in his mouth instead of developing vocabulary. But problem solving, sense of humour, concentration, mastery of new skills and interest in books is good. He's more independent in play, mastering skills like switches, opening gates, unlocking cupboards, climbing onto chairs and all the generally unsafe stuff. His sense of humour is great-I repeated back some of his unintelligible words to him and he laughed his head off. He has his babies room friends involved in his gags. Now he's reached the age of "theory of mind" and keeps grabbing our hands to do what he wants, puppet master style. Photos are of the early months, so much change since then!

We’re watching Bored to Death repeats on ABC2. The current episode I’ve seen a few times-he’s tracking down a skateboard thief for Parker Posey’s 9 year old son. It’s funny, seeing all the skaters at the park. Sometimes I am oblivious to skaters, skate parks, skate boards. But the point was made, somewhere by someone, that skater guys always wear jeans and always look good. Then last night, in a blog link blog attack, I found myself reading the blog ofa guy that makes skate jeans and obviously hangs out a lot with skaters. And it made we wonder, about this whole ability to still be into skate culture as an adult with children-this guy has pictures of movie nights, toddler birthday parties, country walks. It all looks good. I doubt any of my husband’s friends socialise together as regularly or manage to look as recreational as these guys. Was particularly impressed by the red headed guy with the massively side parted/chin length seventies hairdo, he looks so much like my old friend...

The other week, I got some good advice and although it was in a work related sense, it kind of relates to the private world too. Get it down and get it out of your head. So, what to write about? Things I am reading, things I am doing, the fun I am having with my son. He is into hide and seek now. Shouting boisterously. Being more gentle too-at Carrick Hill he spent several minutes gently playing with Annie, stroking her hair and trying to get her to wear his hat. So chivalrous. He also tried to wrestle with her twin brother. We met the mums and babies up there, on such a sunny afternoon, such a civilised place, with it's views over the city. We rested in a shady spot and barely made much use of the gardens, or explored their corners or viewed their animal sculptures, just because there was so much to talk about. Because my son had taken his trike, all the other children wanted to pay attention and see if they could have a turn. Brilliant. Bike buying votes. My husband has admitted ...

This post was funny, reminded me of attending artistic events (be it a band performance, launch, fringe theatre, something a friend is doing) and getting far too over analytical about other peoples sartorial choices. Especially when I am such a sloppy dresser. I really like it when someone dresses well, but frugally; when they look good not because of how much they spend, but the way they match things. Events such as the Cygnet Folk Festival in Tassie were great for admiring people's street style, from the teenage volunteers stamping your ticket in the Cygnet Theatre on Friday night, to the leg warmers worn in the campsight and the festival tshirts paired with pyjama pants at the morning singing workshop (singing! in the morning! a joyful way to start the day, especially when singing with women who keep you going until you let your voice go. Have been singing a little bit to Lu, mostly Twinkle Twinkle Little Star but want to learn more songs for him). Otherwise today has been about...

I took this photo over 5 years ago, back when I was still a 20 something. How much wisdom and life experience I have gained since then! Anyway, it's a mural of the community health centre at The Parks, which unfortunately is slated for closure to assist with State Budget cuts/revenue raising. I am praying this decision gets overturned-it is so apparent that the eastern suburbs are well serviced with parks and recreational centres/pools (albeit council ones) and the western suburbs have less recreational spaces. Plus the Parks is kind of daggy but cool, it has a social/cultural heritage that is worth keeping, 70s era murals and all. My friends do roller derby training there; a work colleague said her twin sister met her husband there at the swimming pool; it has a community health centre providing outreach to community members, many of whom are the CALD clients that health policy makers otherwise find difficult to engage with (because they don't voluntarily attend doctors/screen...

I had a compliment today. Someone I deal with said I sound completely organised and "on to it" at work and she couldn't believe I am getting married in only 4 days. So I have officially decided to embrace this wedding thing and make sure I enjoy my remaining days and cancel whatever can be put off. Things are going well, things are getting exciting. I am staying at a nice hotel on Friday night that I've been wanting to check out and meeting my friends at the Exeter beforehand for a token "last taste of freedom" drink. Here is what NOT to watch before you get married: Series finale of THIS LIFE (Miles shags Anna the night before his wedding and realises he knows very little about his fiancee; Milly biffs Rachel at the reception) Mad Men-Pete cheats on his fiancee, Don Draper cheats on his wife repeatedly Picked up my rings from the jeweller on Saturday, my 10 year old nephew accompanied me but seemed very nonplussed . He did provide some narrative o...

Jen and I met the young gentleman from the photo whilst giving him directions to find the Opera House so he can photograph the steps. He explained it was his first visit from Melbourne, that he lived in St Kilda, that he used to be a metalhead until one time he listened to Crowded House and they became his favourite band ever and now he's making a visit to their final resting place. "And have you heard of a band called The Smiths?" he says us tentatively, as if it will be too obscure. I tell him I listened to them when spending warm summer days indoors. We explain that we are much older than him and knew them when they were still releasing. The kid was born in 1986. He sings different glimpses of songs, as he tries to work out his favourite tune. I confuse him by mixing up This Charming Man with How Soon is Now. "Yeah, so my three favourite bands are Crowded House, The Smiths and Icehouse" he says, and that's when I decide I need to take his photogra...

Today was spent sleeping in, grabbing newspapers in the morning on the busy main street, all excitable with the hot weather and promise of rain. I saw my yoga companion and her partner, they are off to Nepal next week for 10 weeks, to celebrate 10 years of being together... it seems they met there whilst walking on a track in opposite directions, but it wasn't until they met up on the return plane to Australian that the romance was able to develop. We went up to the markets, which is always fun. Each time I visit I am intrigued by the "residents" of the markets, the teenagers of the town, the blow ins, the people who've travelled from up and down the coast, the long time residents, short term residents, townies, farmers, ferals... Mr Right was excited to spot Beard again. We'd seen him in the pub a week ago, whilst waiting for our margarita pizza and preparing for the ascent to Dorrigo. Beard is a young chap with dark red/brown hair and a particularly nice ...

Not so long ago I rang them and Ned answered. To disguise himself and confuse me he refused to answer positively to the Q&A routine I was drilling him in. "I don't know" was his stock answer to every question except for this: "Is G (me) good at drawing?"" Later he explained "Well I had to answer yes to that, because everyone KNOWS that!"

Went and did a class with my old art teacher to see what he could pass on about portraits. Our model was Rodriguez (ruh-dree-go), as soon as I was told his name, i forgot how to pronounce it and would try to recall it, running versions off my mouth. Later on when my nephews were looking at/admiring his charcoal portrait and asked who it was, I couldn't say. The classes worked the same as I remembered-sitting in peter's studio, a range of easels that are mobile, people's work pinned up on the walls and displayed. Still lifes executed with similiar technique to Clarice Beckett, portraits done in a range of oil colours to convey a man's face, canvases stretched, sheafs of oil and charcoal paper. Peter got our model to sit lotus style for up to an hour at a time, whilst he demonstrated how to draw the angles of a person's face, get their proportions, convey the light and shadows that come together as a face. Then I drew, whilst the rest painted. Their initial conversati...

I love my family. They also can exasperate me with their little foibles. Why does the guest bed require 6 pillows, including 2 over sized european pillows, and multiple cushions as decoration? Sleeping in it requires deconstruction. And the wardrobe and six foot high chest of drawers are crammed with stuff which can't be given away which means I don't have anywhere to put my clean clothes. Plus my Mum locked me into the house today. Minor complaints aside, I am enjoying the visit, though bemused that I have achieved "good daughter" status, as the sensible mature wise one that has out stripped (for now) her older sister. Some kind of mental revision of opinions against observed behaviour has taken place, and I am reaping the rewards with lots of verbal encouragement, affirmations, and admiration. Like any sibling, of course I am lapping it up, basking in it (sorry sister). It's quite deserved. Speaking of siblings, I was part of a conversation between ...

Gus has been at school for about a month now, with a lot of learning going on everyday, not just reading and writing, but socialisation, playground politics, learning manners and groupwork. Yesterday "Mr Tony" took his class for a little lecture on how to be safe, "how you can be safe, in yourself". This isn't so much along the lines of avoiding strangers, as not running on the pavement... and then it turned into a lesson about saying sorry. Explains Gus; "And then Jordan, he's a boy in my class, well he spitted on Dylan. And Dylan, he's a boy in my class, well Jordan said SORRY and Dylan said THAT's OKAY, but Mr Tony said not to say that!" What did Mr Tony say was the correct thing? Gus couldn't remember or understand, and it was causing him some angst, because he knew it was important. We decided that it was to do with using good manners, and helping Jordan change his bad behaviour ("Jordan's naughty"). "I like it w...