tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79663680871456585192024-03-18T23:16:06.469+11:00Princess Pandora - Queen of Denial"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.comBlogger2652125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-493122613064086272024-03-18T23:15:00.003+11:002024-03-18T23:15:29.419+11:00Today's Earworm<p> I'm working out in my underwear in the lounge room. The underwear is really just long-legged knickers, but they look like bike shorts, and when your trainer is in Barcelona on a phone, it doesn't matter. Saves on washing. </p><p>We were talking about Cleo's pending trip to Morocco, when her daughters join her in Spain in a few months. She's got a start and an end point, landing in Tangiers and leaving from Marrakesh and what goes on in between is up for discussion. </p><p>"We might go on a tour, camp in the Sahara," she was saying.</p><p>Well, that sounds fun. Cleo has been to Morocco before. Jay, who was on the other window of the call, has also been. I'm just doing my back lunges and feeling a bit jealous. </p><p>"And we'll spend time in Casablanca..." she went on. </p><p>Oh, Casablanca. I so want to go to Casablanca, just as much as I want to go to Zanzibar. Yes, I know, one is in Morocco, the other in Tanzania. But Casablanca conjures up a different time, with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and a throng of French extras singing the Marseilles. (The story is amazing - at the time this was filled, France and Germany were at war, the tears and the feeling were unscripted.)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HM-E2H1ChJM" width="320" youtube-src-id="HM-E2H1ChJM"></iframe></div><p>And no, the Marseilles is not my earworm. I wish it was. </p><p>Cleo went on as we continued to sweat it out in the lounge. </p><p>"And then we might go down to Agadir," she said. </p><p>"Agadir!" exclaimed Jay, "Agadir's a shit hole. Agadir's the place the British go to play golf and complain."</p><p>It could be said that most of Europe which has a bit of sunshine is where Britains go to play golf and whinge, but year. </p><p>I'd remained quiet, happily doing my pushups and Russian Twists and couch slams. </p><p>"You know, something that came out of Agadir was the song Agadoo."</p><p>There, I said it. </p><p>The genie was out of the bottle. </p><p>The song firmly planted in my head. </p><p>And I know this is an awful song, but I have good memories of singing it to our dog, as she was Sheba-Do and she loved it. </p><p>Still, I have this stupid song going round in my head, all because of a conversation about Cleo's holiday plans.</p><p>Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagadoo doo doo....</p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/POv-3yIPSWc" target="_blank">Today's song:</a> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/POv-3yIPSWc" width="320" youtube-src-id="POv-3yIPSWc"></iframe></div><p><br /></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-30013773450949336492024-03-17T22:00:00.003+11:002024-03-17T22:00:21.999+11:00Sunday Stealing: <p> It's Saturday night and I'm getting the weekly questions out of the way. It's been a nicely chilled day and now it's time to get some admin done - and the Sunday questions, which have been provided, as always, but Bev at<a href="https://sundaystealing.blogspot.com/2024/03/sunday-stealing_0323992740.html" target="_blank"> Sunday Stealing</a>. They are good questions, this week. </p><p><b>1. What ONE thing would you change about your life? How would your life be different?</b></p><p>I would love a metabolism which was a lot faster. I love to eat. Menopause has taken what was an already sluggish metabolism and made it even slower. It sucks badly. I have to be very careful about what I eat. If I didn't keep track of things, I'd be the size of an even bigger house. </p><p><b>2. What is the hardest thing you have ever done? Why was it hard for you? What did you learn?</b></p><p>I remember taking part in my first half marathon. I wasn't prepared for it, but my mate Reindert helped me along the 21 kilometre track. It was hard because I am not a natural runner, nor was I fully prepared for this (I've run five of these events, and they did get easier, especially when I'd trained for them properly). I learned that I can do anything I put my mind to that day. It was even more important to me as I was always the fat, slow, unfit kid at school - this undid years of negative self-talk. </p><p><b>3. Write about the most glorious moment in your life so far.</b></p><p>I'm a history nerd. As I was about to leave England in 1999, I went to Westminster Abbey to say goodbye. I got chatting to one of the vergers, who took me up to the tomb of Edward the Confessor, something you can see from a distance. I got the area to myself. It was glorious. </p><p>I've been lucky - I've had lots of little moments like this. </p><p><b>4. Write about a moment you felt brave.</b></p><p>I feel brave every time I start a new job. Seeing I do this regularly, I'm getting used to it, I do have to summon up some courage each time I walk into a new company. You never know what it is going to be like. </p><p><b>5. What made you happy today?</b></p><p>I had two lots of meditation today - my normal Kabbalah meditation in the morning, and Drone Sound meditation at lunchtime. For the latter session I found a park easily and a cricket joined in the action. I was very good for me, mind, body and spirit. </p><p><b>6. What did you dislike most about growing up?</b></p><p>A lot of it. My childhood wasn't the easiest. But looking back the think I don't like most about growing up is that you have to be an adult. I don't like being an adult that much. </p><p><b>7. Write about five activities you love the most and why you love them.</b></p><p>Things I love to do:</p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>I love swimming, because I feel completely myself in the water. </li><li>I love writing, because that is my vocation</li><li>I love going to cinema and the theatre, because I love being immersed in somebody else's story. </li><li>I love being around animal, because we get each other. </li><li>I love traveling, because I love learning about new places and cultures and people. </li></ol><p></p><p><b>8. Do you have an embarrassing moment that still makes you cringe?</b></p><p>Yes, but I don't feel like talking about them here. There are many of them. I'm just thankful I've grown up a bit. </p><p><b>9. What has been your best trip so far?</b></p><p>I think my trip to England and France late last year will go down as the best trip ever. Loved every minute of my three weeks away. </p><p><b>10. What traits (physical or personal) do people notice when they meet you for the first time?</b></p><p>I really couldn't tell you. Some people notice my eyes or the fact that I have long curly hair. Some notice that I'm big. May people look at me and think that I'm approachable - this probably has something to do with the fact that I have an open face. Charity muggers think I'm wonderful as I rarely tell them where to go. </p><p><b>11. Is social media a blessing or a curse?</b></p><p>25% blessing, 75% curse. Depends on the day and who you're fighting with over Twitter. </p><p><b>12. What is your greatest hope for your future? What steps can you take to make it happen?</b></p><p>I hope that I stay happy and healthy and gainfully employed and that I can participate in everything I like doing for years to come. </p><p><b>13. What did you struggle most with today?</b></p><p>Procrastination, even though I got a lot done today, could have done more. That was about it. Had a few shifts in what I was going to do - Jonella cancelled, which was fine. I went to see a movie only to find out I'd booked a ticket for Tuesday. Ah well. I did some writing and a lot of housework. </p><p><b>14. Name the biggest priority in your life right now.</b></p><p>I'm getting started on the second draft of a book I'm writing. This is a big deal as I've never done anything of length to a second draft. And it is doing my head in. But I really want to do this to prove to myself that I can. </p><p><b>15. What are 5 things you wish others knew about you.</b></p><p>I'm pretty open about myself but here are some useless things about me that you might want to know: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I can't do cross stitch, but I can do tapestry. I love handicrafts. </li><li>I would eat potatoes every day if I could. </li><li>I prefer vanilla over chocolate 99 times out of 100. </li><li>I take a size nine (Euro 40) shoe. I used to be an 8.5 (39) for most of my adult life, but menopause and age does that to you. </li><li>I love the smell of cat's and dog's paws, preferably in the morning. </li></ul><p></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/238Z4YaAr1g" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/238Z4YaAr1g" target="_blank"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/238Z4YaAr1g" target="_blank"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/238Z4YaAr1g" width="320" youtube-src-id="238Z4YaAr1g"></iframe></a></div><p></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-74732765873621434382024-03-16T21:28:00.001+11:002024-03-16T21:28:03.942+11:00The Cricket<p> I followed my instincts, and went into deepest, darkest Brunswick around lunchtime. I didn't want to, but something in me said it was necessary for my wellbeing. </p><p>Brunswick and I have a strange relationship. I'm told that I belong there, but I don't think so. I do like that you can normally find a park there if you know what you're doing, unlike Carlton, which has the tendency to shit me to tears. Brunswick is filled with hipsters and delicatessens with food from hundreds of ethnicities. Brunswick feels like the Melbourne of the sixties. The shopfronts go unpainted, the citizenry doused in patchouli and whatever scent in in their vapes. Brunswick is filled with hipsters. But these are the hipsters of all hipsters. I live in Richmond, at the North end, where the more moderate hipsters rub shoulders with the Vietnamese restaurants and the heroin dealers. Brunswick and Richmond both vote Green federally. The Brunswick mob are a little more militant. Richmond voters still hold a small candle to the Labor Party. Both areas are gentrified, just is different ways. Both are laid back. If anything, Richmond is a little less pretentious. </p><p>Regardless of my trepidation, I followed my heart and pointed the car North, praying to the parking and traffic fairies to get me to my destination on time and with a safe place to plonk the car. If I wasn't coming from Caulfield I would have taken the train. </p><p>I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. My destination, <a href="https://www.temporubato.com.au/" target="_blank">Tempo Rubato</a> for the monthly session of <a href="https://www.instagram.com/drone_sound_meditation/" target="_blank">Drone</a>, a sound meditation session. These are held monthly, hosted by my friend Anthony Artmann. One hour. One note, often with other instruments adding to the sound cloud. Today, there was a five-stringed bass guitar and the occasional note from the grand piano on stage.</p><p>And the cricket. </p><p>After paying for my entry, and a quick bathroom stop. I took my place in an easy chair at the back corner of the room, finding another chair on which to place my feet. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCXhdBnUgdj9zbmpZ58kwORmPVBSdvBb30vqE5PpXRgkDwnpx0n8e2-NLfnLGUYq35vkx_oT0PJQO-q5xvZR8KE8jQt-WZ0FZOH6xz9t3-tuMWZQ6WI2vMKjP1v3tmpeeLdWx-ydcviims_kAzuSylF2NrQaQGhw_uHeZyW5Zku-bohBsWfA_EwdFCNTw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="603" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCXhdBnUgdj9zbmpZ58kwORmPVBSdvBb30vqE5PpXRgkDwnpx0n8e2-NLfnLGUYq35vkx_oT0PJQO-q5xvZR8KE8jQt-WZ0FZOH6xz9t3-tuMWZQ6WI2vMKjP1v3tmpeeLdWx-ydcviims_kAzuSylF2NrQaQGhw_uHeZyW5Zku-bohBsWfA_EwdFCNTw=w365-h362" width="365" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My view during Drone at Tempo Rubato, not that my eyes were open during the session. </div><br />This was my hour to lie back and let the sound take me away. I closed my eyes and listen to the freeform music.<div><br /></div><div>And the cricket. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/K8E_zMLCRNg" width="320" youtube-src-id="K8E_zMLCRNg"></iframe></div><br /><div>Georgie on the door gave the Acknowledgement of Country, and then an apology was made for the said cricket's constant chirping.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was no need for this. It's intermittent twittering was a perfect foil for the synthesizer's modulations. It came and went as it pleased, at times providing a natural answer to a melodic question. </div><div><br /></div><div>Over the sessions, Anthony is known to mix it up, adding magpie calls, waterfalls and other sounds into the soundscape. He had no control over this tiny slice of nature. </div><div><br /></div><div>It also added to the intimacy of the set. Normally around fifteen to twenty people who attend these monthly sessions. Today, there was five of us. It was a glorious Indian Summer day - I blame nobody for doing something outside. </div><div><br /></div><div>My hour went quickly as the drone let my mind and spirit soar, finding myself walking in forests, along sandy beaches, in a maelstrom of blue light, and in bed with a man I should know better than to be with. Crises were averted and the world was put to right. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then it was over. </div><div><br /></div><div>I resonate with sound meditation. I have done for years after discovering <a href="https://soundhealingbali.com/" target="_blank">Shervin Boolorian in Bali</a>. Shervin is an earthbound angel with an incredible talent for healing. </div><div><br /></div><div>There's a huge difference between the natural instruments Shervin uses in his sessions and the electronic bent that Anthony takes at Drone, but they have a similar effect. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today, I came out refreshed and strangely replete. </div><div><br /></div><div>In my opinion, this was the best session I've attended. I loved the stripped back nature of the sound, mixed in with the occasional call from nature. It was just perfect. </div><div><br /></div><div>I told this to Georgie on the way out. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh, I caught the cricket," she said. </div><div>"But it was helping."</div><div>"It won't be appreciated at tonight's classical recital."</div><div>"But this was just magical. You should have come in."</div><div>"One day."</div><div>"The cricket made it very special indeed."</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked me up and down. "He's better off in the garden."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay. Alright then. Anyway, I had better fuck off back to Richmond."</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled at this. Every time I turn up for turn up for Drone, she knows I'm not in my natural environment. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wanted a drink, only to find the Sydney Road IGA shut after a fire. I'd find my kombucha elsewhere. And off I stalked to find my car in the side street where I'd left it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully, in a sound bath, there are no territorial borders, no suburb biases or worries about where to park. It's just you and the singular tone. </div><div><br /></div><div>And the cricket. </div><div><br /></div><div><div><p><a href="https://youtu.be/NPcyTyilmYY" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NPcyTyilmYY" width="320" youtube-src-id="NPcyTyilmYY"></iframe></div></div></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-61794052152244006232024-03-15T23:22:00.003+11:002024-03-16T08:50:04.563+11:00Another day to the weekend<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I want another day to the weekend. </span></div><p></p><p>I want a day where I don't feel obligated to do anything. Not that I am obligated to do anything, but I want to feel unincumbered. </p><p>And I look at what I've got on this weekend. </p><p>Tonight, I'm chilling. I've been to IKEA to buy a big glass. I washed the car, because it was filthy and it was doing my head in.</p><p>Tomorrow, I have meditation. After that, there’s nothing really on, but I know that I want to start going through this novel, and I’ve got some other paperwork to do, not that I really want to be spending the weekend in front of the computer, but it needs to be done.</p><p>And Sunday, I will go to the gym in the morning as I always do, and then maybe meet up with Jonella in the afternoon.</p><p>But I would love a day for myself. With nobody to talk to, I could be left alone with my thoughts.</p><p>It’s been a full-on week. Maybe an early night will do the trick.</p><p>In the meantime, I will continue to Wage War with my cat, who has decided that I cannot sit at my computer chair. He’s been at me for an hour to get off it, so he can go to sleep.</p><p>I’m having to write this on my phone.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/8UVNT4wvIGY?si=09hBpxvIS011KOUZ" target="_blank">Today’s song:</a> </p><p><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HlxogDOxBSE" width="320" youtube-src-id="HlxogDOxBSE"></iframe></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-81369709605580953892024-03-14T23:53:00.003+11:002024-03-14T23:53:52.060+11:00The Audition<p> Jay and I are auditioning for a new personal trainer, seeing our darling, Twelve, has up and left us. We could have gone with him to the other gym, but we already fork out money to go to this one, and we do classes there, it seems silly to go to another gym to see a trainer. We were supposed to see Twelve tonight, but he was off having his arm tattooed today. </p><p>Anyway, we're looking for a new trainer. </p><p>Twelve has recommended this young fellow, who is younger than he is, but reckons we'll get on well with him. I'm meeting him tomorrow morning, but he's not off to a good start. Jay met with him today. Twelve told him we were there for the social. Also, he's 21 and has a really dodgy moustache. According to Jay, he's into lots of fist bumps, and "awesomes!". I'll let you know how I get on. </p><p>The other person recommended to us by Cleo, our Monday trainer, is Chuck. </p><p>Chuck's a bit older - as in over thirty. He's also been at the gym for years. </p><p>I approached him in the gym tonight.</p><p>"Hey, mate. Are you taking new clients at the moment?"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>"You up for a chat when you're finished."</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>Twelve reckoned he wasn't taking anybody on. He was wrong. </p><p>So,we've had the chat. </p><p>Chuck appears to be imminently sensible. I told him I liked the fact he's been around for years - so you get some stability. </p><p>I let him know that both Jay and I wanted to keep moving - challenge us without breaking us. </p><p>Yes, he could do that. I've watched him train others - including our semi-regular training buddy Giles. I like what he's doing. </p><p>Secondly, he appears to know how to listen. In our ten-minute chat I found out he has a fiancé who's a writer. She's knocked him into shape. So, if we tell him we don't jump or do burpees, he will listen. </p><p>Thirdly, I think he likes that we are the sorts of clients who turn up and pay on time. That's one of the hard things about being a PT in a big gym. </p><p>He asked why I liked his training style. </p><p>"Well, firstly, you're not a child."</p><p>He liked that. </p><p>We'll see where things go. It will mean changing my gym night from Thursday to Wednesday - but I also reckon we'd get more out of him. </p><p>I hate this auditioning phase. You just get a PT house-trained and they leave you.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/ClBNJ4ccnx4" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ClBNJ4ccnx4" width="320" youtube-src-id="ClBNJ4ccnx4"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-85202867677620236902024-03-13T23:45:00.002+11:002024-03-13T23:53:12.764+11:00Down to the River<p> The one thing COVID taught me was that a daily walk is a good thing for everything and everybody. </p><p>I've let this slide. </p><p>And working long hours, and being at home all day, it's good to get out, stretch the legs, say hello to a few dogs (because there are lots of dogs that walk along the towpaths) and drink in the scent of eucalyptus and listen out for the bellbirds and enjoy the swish of the running water. Nature is our best medicine, and I've been neglecting this necessary part of life. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9pK5s9lmd4Pq4aM2QJW-prquh4MbxvsJRY9DuVb7Y10-aOLH_BXM1s1dw2eczflI5yj4vOdGBzOPxWRJWl2_b4SXFRffiMRpyIpGw2EBcmbipj8YrUPXTEiOPnXN6-SOZ36wY4QpkcPowR55QuPvAAAvwU2I6CO-U7ydmdvPa6QCJtbx93AzqVWvYj2Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="769" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9pK5s9lmd4Pq4aM2QJW-prquh4MbxvsJRY9DuVb7Y10-aOLH_BXM1s1dw2eczflI5yj4vOdGBzOPxWRJWl2_b4SXFRffiMRpyIpGw2EBcmbipj8YrUPXTEiOPnXN6-SOZ36wY4QpkcPowR55QuPvAAAvwU2I6CO-U7ydmdvPa6QCJtbx93AzqVWvYj2Q=w357-h420" width="357" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tonight I took a different route. Turning left at the pub, I walked down to this little parked and joined the river there. This has only recently opened up. Then past the new blocks, and the foot bridge, past the landing where I used to take my lunch, around the bend then back into Victoria Gardens to get some almond milk, before heading home to an episode of MAFS.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJW4YbNKVrNjDzAfDbh0JA8ytNOlhY_j9fUYFd_23H6cHwtqilWXuixe6Hyw3vxpNVFkxFwxL-sys1xfepYcj8RFVr3UjMqxy08sxjlvLKn-VE_t89xqa6Q_JVPVde448b4ghus95BD_P_Bwc1he0TVBm__7XN8qvvkvf-O4ZKYuYEH65gRNLUUL87nDs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="767" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJW4YbNKVrNjDzAfDbh0JA8ytNOlhY_j9fUYFd_23H6cHwtqilWXuixe6Hyw3vxpNVFkxFwxL-sys1xfepYcj8RFVr3UjMqxy08sxjlvLKn-VE_t89xqa6Q_JVPVde448b4ghus95BD_P_Bwc1he0TVBm__7XN8qvvkvf-O4ZKYuYEH65gRNLUUL87nDs=w363-h436" width="363" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I need to do this more often. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's good for the soul. </div></div><br /><a href="https://youtu.be/0Hegd4xNfRo" target="_blank">Today's song:</a><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0Hegd4xNfRo" width="320" youtube-src-id="0Hegd4xNfRo"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-40964879458352139572024-03-12T23:18:00.000+11:002024-03-12T23:18:41.250+11:00The Second Draft<p> Before I go on, please, tell me, how is it the cat can tread on the keyboard and upset all of the settings? How is it he can turn the screen to portrait view or turn off the second monitor? How does he have these talents when I don't know any of these keyboard functions? What sort of trickery is this? How can he do this all the time? </p><p>Regardless, I'm not here to talk about the cat. I'm here to talk about this thing called a second draft. </p><p>It's all a bit mythical to me. </p><p>Me, get to a second draft? </p><p>Well, yes. </p><p>Second drafts, to me, are a bit of a mythical thing. I mean, I have don't second drafts - but strangely, I write fairly cleanly, and structure is something I've always done quite well. Maybe call it my Virgoan nature, or maybe it's a touch of the OCDs in me. I like to know where I'm going and I normally have the structure in my head. </p><p>But after the retreat the other weekend, and a bit of a kick up the bum from some friends, I've got out the first draft I wrote five years ago. It's working title is <i>The Work Husband</i>. I wrote it in 2019, pre COVID, when I had the job from hell, where I was underutilised and over paid. I managed to do the whole of a <a href="https://nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NANOWRIMO</a> 50,000 words during November. </p><p>There's now 90,000 words in a document waiting to be dealt with. </p><p>So, I'm doing the brave thing and starting on the second draft of this. </p><p>Believe me, it's brave. </p><p>I've got myself a Scrivener license so I can keep track of things. I know the gist of what is in this manuscript - a reworked memoir of my time in Britain, but I've thrown in a bit of a mystery and a love story for good measure. </p><p>And to be honest, I'm not unhappy with what I'm reading. It's not magnificent, but it's not bad either. </p><p>I showed some working to a friend at the retreat - somebody I trust to tell me if it is truly awful. She liked what she was reading - I don't think she was being just nice. </p><p>So yeah, I'm going into second draft mode. Or what is also known as the "<a href="https://womenwordswisdom.com/2014/05/11/anne-lamott-on-the-down-draft/" target="_blank">Up Draft</a>". According to Anne Lamott in <i>Bird by Bird</i>, there are three drafts. The Down Draft, where you puke up your book, the Up Draft, where you refine it, and the Dental Draft, where you go through it with a nit comb. </p><p>With Scrivener, with the chapter cards, I can see where this book has been and gone. </p><p>I also know that the manuscript is unfinished. I'm probably about 20,000 words away from getting this finished, but I can't remember what is in here. I have to reacquaint myself with the story and what I've written. </p><p>At least I'm reading this and not wanting to vomit. The writing, even for a first draft, is not too bad - yes, it needs work, but it's okay. It's my story. It's getting there. </p><p>I got another kick up the bum today. I received a book in the mail - the prize for a short fiction sponsored by Allen and Unwin. I put in my little story. I won a book out of it. </p><p>This was my story:</p><p class="MsoPlainText">"You only have one chance to ponder how small and how big
you can be all at once. Try standing on the seashore, allowing the water to lap
over your feet. Then consider the sea, then consider the sand, then consider
that you are a part of everything large and small, and that life will always be
like this. Fluid. Ephemeral."<o:p></o:p></p><p>And there was a little note from</p><p>Fun what you can do with 60 words. It won me a book. </p><p>This jogged my memory. I did the Faber Novel Writing Course in 2020. I was happy. I've got some inroads into the publishing arena, not that it means anything, but Faber Graduates get put to the top of the slush pile (even if one of your tutors says you're better suited to Hachette...)</p><p>The fire in my belly is lit. </p><p>I revise a chapter a night, putting a card into Scrivener to remind me what's going on. </p><p>And I keep reminding myself that this is what I want and that I can do this. </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/fk1Q9y6VVy0" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fk1Q9y6VVy0" width="320" youtube-src-id="fk1Q9y6VVy0"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-85332810786048017262024-03-11T21:57:00.002+11:002024-03-11T21:57:18.137+11:00Movie Review: The Great Escaper<p> Movie Number 8 of 2024</p><p>The Movie:<i> The Great Escaper</i></p><p>The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens</p><p>Stars: 4</p><p><br /></p><p>There are many sad things about this movie which leave me grieving, the biggest being that this will probably be one of Michael Caine's last movies. At 91, his days of acting are nearly beyond him. His co-star, Glenda Jackson passed away six months ago.</p><p>Regardless, this is a glorious British tale and definitely worth a look. It falls very much into the take your parents category - especially, if like me, your step-dad is ex-forces and your mum is the spitting image of Glenda Jackson. And that your parents are aging. You'll get it.</p><p><i>The Great Escaper </i>is one of those quintessential English tales, where a plucky bloke won't be told no. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dNWp8Kq5JgI" width="320" youtube-src-id="dNWp8Kq5JgI"></iframe></div><p>Bernie Jordan (Michael Caine) and his wife Rene (Glenda Jackson) are in aged care in the South of England. Although their bodies are failing them, their minds are still sharp. When Bernie is told that he's missed his chance to go on a guided visit, he ups the anti and "escapes" from the home, taking a taxi and a ferry across to France. At the time this made the papers, with people trying to find Bernie, who just wanted to get over to France and fulfill one last task from the war - that being to say goodbye to a fallen comrade. </p><p>The film moves between Bernie's travels to France, Rene's current health issues in the aged care home and Bernie and Rene's love story during the Second World War, where the young couple have to courageously face the future, not knowing if Bernie will come back. Bernie has his own issues, feeling the guilt for letting his mate drive a tank onto the beach. </p><p>The film is very well done. Oliver Parker's direction is sensitive, but at times funny. We get to meet Arthur (John Standing) an Air Force Flyer on the trip to see his brother, buried in the Bayeux War Cemetery. And the nurse Adele (Danielle Vitalis) shows the wonderful people that work in aged care, looking after the ailing Rene as they wait for news on Bernie. </p><p>This isn't a block buster, more a look at ordinary people doing extraordinary things. The thing I loved most was Bernie's inherent goodness. There is a scene where he and Arthur meet a group of Germans, over for exactly the same reason. It's a beautifully poignant scene. </p><p>The other thing for me which resonated was after taking a visit to Northern France last year, paying a visit to Omaha Beach, among other places, I felt the feelings behind all of this. We visited Bayeux, but not the war cemetery (opting instead, to pay a visit to the war cemetery at Villers Bretonneux.) You can't help but feel something in these places. In Bernie's words, it was all a bloody waste. </p><p>My one, very small reservation about the film is why would they put Bernie and Rene on the top floor of the nursing home. Both were pretty infirm. That didn't ring true. </p><p><i>The Great Escaper</i> is definitely worth a look. It's not just me being in one of my British Film phases. It's just a great story about an ordinary man doing extraordinary things. Take a tissue if you do go. It tugs at the heartstrings. </p><p><a href="https://www.history.co.uk/articles/the-true-story-of-the-great-escaper" target="_blank">For those interested, read Bernie Jordan's story here.</a> </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/cAe1lVDbLf0" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cAe1lVDbLf0" width="320" youtube-src-id="cAe1lVDbLf0"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-87925755029893435432024-03-10T23:51:00.003+11:002024-03-10T23:53:30.025+11:00Too Hot to Write<p> The cat is spread out on the bed in front of the fan. He's doing his best flat cat impersonation. </p><p>I have the leaking air conditioner on, a bucket on the floor to collect the drips. </p><p>My massive pile of ironing is down to my last duvet cover and a dress. </p><p>The day was spent like this: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Went to the gym.</li><li>I read the leading article about the infighting in the United Grand Lodge of Victoria</li><li>I fielded a number of questions about if I had anything do to with the United Grand Lodge of Victoria (and no, my lodge has nothing to do with them - different orders, no alliances). </li><li>Opened the work laptop to do some necessary admin work</li><li>Went to see a movie to escape the heat. Review tomorrow. </li><li>Had some dinner.</li><li>And continued the admin work so I have a clean slate on Tuesday. There was a lot of admin to do. </li><li>Continued to iron. </li></ul><div>I'll review the movie tomorrow. It was most wonderful, but the mix of ironing and doing work on a Sunday night has left me depleted. </div><div><br /></div><div>At least I've not finished the boring admin, and can have a free day tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just have to finish the ironing. Two more pieces to go. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://youtu.be/tDl3bdE3YQA" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tDl3bdE3YQA" width="320" youtube-src-id="tDl3bdE3YQA"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><p></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-12840545863031627212024-03-09T23:37:00.002+11:002024-03-09T23:37:23.150+11:00Sunday Stealing: From Friday Five<p> I find it funny that we are going through the hottest days of the year to date. Today and for the next two days, we're expecting it to get up to around 40 degrees celcius - or 104 in the old language. I've just spent a week in Darwin, where the temperature doesn't get much below 32 C (90 F) with 80-90 percent humidity. I can only dream of winter at the moment. It will cool down from Tuesday, but the house will remain hot for a bit. </p><p>Also. as I've been away for a week, my ironing pile is huge, so it's my old thing of doing a question, then ironing a piece of clothing. And don't tell me not to iron my duvet cover. It feels better. I will always iron the duvet cover and pillowcases. </p><p>I best get on with this - there is a lot of ironing to do.</p><p>Questions, as always, come from Bev at <a href="https://sundaystealing.blogspot.com/2024/03/sunday-stealing.html" target="_blank">Sunday Stealing</a>. </p><p><b>1) What is your favorite thing about winter?</b></p><p>Everything. Winter is my favorite season. I love that you get to stay in bed longer and you can snuggle up under the covers. I love not being hot. I love the rain and the occasional storm. I love that you can eat heartier warm meals. There is so much to love about Winter. Pity it's three months away. </p><p><b>2) What is your favorite winter sport?</b></p><p>Australian Rules Football. It's played from March to September. Great game. For those who aren't from Australia, here's a quick explainer. And yes, I live about 30 minutes walk away from the MCG where 100,000 people will turn up to the Grand Final. </p><p>I also like cricket. And I can explain that too. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/u_SqfNNfhmM" width="320" youtube-src-id="u_SqfNNfhmM"></iframe></div><p><b>3) What is the best winter treat?</b></p><p>I love winter foods. Nothing is better than a roast dinner on a cold night, with a hot pudding to follow. Just think Christmastime in cold countries. We do Christmas in July over here so we can eat winter foods when the weather is better suited for it. </p><p><b>4) What is the earliest time in the year it ever snowed where you live?</b></p><p>It doesn't snow in Melbourne, but it does snow in the mountains inland. I think May is the earliest it's snowed up there. Sometimes there will be a dusting of snow in the hills around Melbourne, but it doesn't settle. </p><p><b>5) What is the best way to stay warm in the winter?</b></p><p>I love open fires. Can't get enough of them in winter. Unfortunately, I don't have one in my place, but I enjoy them when I can. </p><p><b>6) What are your favorite things that are paper?</b></p><p>I have lots of notebooks that I've collected over the years. </p><p><b>7) What are your favorite things that are cotton?</b></p><p>My favourite cotton are my bed linen. All of it is 100% cotton and very soft to the touch.</p><p>I also like my Darwin wardrobe, which if it isn't 100% cotton, is bamboo or linen. It's nice and cool.</p><p><b>8) What are your favorite things that are leather?</b></p><p>Favourite leather items - oh, that's my Doc Martens. I've had them for nearly 30 years. I've looked after them. My wallet (purse) is made of Italian leather too. It's an Israeli brand called <a href="https://www.mywalit.com/" target="_blank">MyWalit</a>. I love their stuff. </p><p><b>9) What are your favorite things that are floral?</b></p><p>I don't do many florals, but I have a light cotton dressing gown with big flowers on it. It's great to wear. I wore it while I was on the writer's retreat as another layer (I left my jacket behind) and was told I looked like a benevolent cult leader. </p><p><b>10) What are your favorite things that are wood?</b></p><p>Trees. Trees are great. </p><p><b>11) If you think your house is haunted, what should you do?</b></p><p>Call a ghostbuster. Who else are you going to call? Oh, and try talking to it. You never know what they might tell you. </p><p><b>12) When should you investigate a strange noise in your basement?</b></p><p>Probably, but I'd find a big, strong, hairy bloke to do that for me. </p><p><b>13) How do you know if an abandoned building is safe to visit?</b></p><p>I have no idea. We don't have many of those around here. </p><p><b>14) How do you decide whether to solve a problem as a team, or split up and go it alone?</b></p><p>That depends on the problem. Mind you, it's asking you to decide this, so surely it's telling you to go it alone. Nothing ever gets solved by a committee. </p><p><b>15) Where do you store your knives and where would you look if one was missing?</b></p><p>My knives are kept either in the cutlery drawer or in the knife block on top of the microwave. If I can't find one, I look in the sink or on the draining board. </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/sBW8Vnp8BzU" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sBW8Vnp8BzU" width="320" youtube-src-id="sBW8Vnp8BzU"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-55971333363840422272024-03-08T23:00:00.002+11:002024-03-09T21:31:04.086+11:00One Day<p>I've just finished binge watching<i> One Day</i>, a series on Netflix. </p><p>And I am destroyed. Particularly by the last episode, which I bawled through without stopping. </p><p><i>One Day </i>tells the story of Emma and Dexter, who meet on St Swithins Day 1988. The pair spend the night together but "nothing happens" and they agree to become friends. The 14 episode series looks at their lives together every St Swithins Day for the next 20 years.</p><p>I will not put any spoilers in this post. </p><p>Regardless, this show, adapted from David Phillip's book of the same name is excellent. This was made into a movie with Anne Hathaway as Emma and Tom Jim Sturgess in 2011. The series craps all over the movie. The book has always been good. Ambika Mod is wonderful as the pernickety Emma and Leo Woodall is perfect as the pretty man-boy, Dexter. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WlopfWYGBh4" width="320" youtube-src-id="WlopfWYGBh4"></iframe></div><p><br /></p><p>What really got me about this show was how it got the times so right. From that first meeting at a party in Edinburgh, to their life and times in London. From the crappy flats and bad boyfriends to the wide boy acts, to the being in your twenties and not having a clue... this show is absolutely on point. </p><p>The soundtrack is also incredible, using staples from then late eighties through the nineties and into the early noughties, it's just perfect. </p><p>And I've been left destroyed. </p><p>For me, having lived most of my 20s in London at that time, it brought everything back. From the fast friends to the bad flats, to the nights out. </p><p>But most of all, it brought back my Dexter. The eternal one that got away, the one that you know, if things were different, and if either of you had a spine, that you might just have been that one person in their life. We didn't meet at a party on the last day of university. We never did sleep together, but there were a lot of those longing looks. For many years we were never out of each other's lives, not that we are now, or have been for a few years. <i>One Day </i>bought all of this back. The joys of deep platonic friendships are some of the most memorable that you will have. </p><p>This is worth a watch. It's so well done, even if the last episode will have you going through the tissues. </p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/lM7H0ooV_o8" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lM7H0ooV_o8" width="320" youtube-src-id="lM7H0ooV_o8"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-8194160189797551742024-03-07T23:27:00.001+11:002024-03-07T23:27:20.436+11:00Death by Spreadsheet<p> Today I was subjected to Death by Spreadsheet.</p><p>It had to be done. </p><p>I've had four days of this. I'm over it. </p><p>I'm seeing little boxes all over the place. </p><p>I have told many people over the years that I am very good at reconciling shit. Call it my Virgoan nature. (What, you say, but you're a Leo! I have five planets in Virgo and a Capricorn rising. I'm Virgoan when it comes to lists and reconciliations). </p><p>I am very good at reconciling things. </p><p>But I hate it. </p><p>Death by spreadsheet is one of the most insidious things in the modern corporate world. </p><p>There are some sadistic bastards who think spreadsheets are fun. </p><p>I, for example, thing spreadsheets are fun. I love things like v-lookups and pivot tables and all the funny things you can do in excel.</p><p>Just not for four days straight.</p><p>So, I've had my will to love depleted and, in direct correlation to the want to curl up in the foetal position on the couch, rise exponentially. </p><p>However, I'm due at the airport in an hour and a half, and I'm hoping I'll be able to sleep on the plane. I'm at least getting better than that. I'll be home by 11 am tomorrrow, all going well. </p><p>But I'm sure I will be pressing Ctrl-V and Ctrl-X in my dreams. </p><p>And I must remember my Chromecast. </p><p>Thank goodness for the long weekend. </p><p>I will write the post I really want to write (and publish on Substack) soon. </p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/aYTSkPi6v8w" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aYTSkPi6v8w" width="320" youtube-src-id="aYTSkPi6v8w"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-13192669065106161932024-03-07T01:06:00.001+11:002024-03-07T01:08:44.760+11:00Not the post I want to write<p>I have had a blog post in mind all day, but because I'm not in my writing happy place, I'll save it for tomorrow when time and impetus might be available. </p><p>So here is my front of mind. </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Tonight is my last full night in Darwin.</li><li>I've started gently packing. Thank goodness for packing cubes. Dirty clothes in one, clean clothes in the other. </li><li>My Darwin bag is on the kitchen table. I need to take it into the office tomorrow morning - it's al.l about logistics. </li><li>When I get home, I will be on a salad and lean meat diet for a week. I don't need to go out to dinner for a while. </li><li>Or eat garlic. I'm thankful I'm sleeping alone tonight. My breath would scare the cat. </li><li>Driving out to the depot in tropical rain this morning was fun. </li><li>So was being woken up by thunderstorms. </li><li>And the big ships in Darwin Harbour. </li><li>I also can't wait to get back to the gym. </li><li>Or back to my pussycat, who has taken to Aunty Kat very well. Kat took a photo of him standing on her lap - this is a big result. They're getting on well. </li><li>And I had a glass of pinot gris with my dinner and I filled the glass up with ice because I am a bogan - and I needed the fluids. It was hydrating. </li><li>I've finished the little beanie I was knitting for Jay. </li><li>And started another beanie in the same wool. </li><li>And Man Bun One on MAFS shits me to tears. </li><li>And they've made a limited series of A Gentleman in Moscow (With Ewan McGregor). Unfortunately, it's on Paramount Plus. Maybe it will come out on Qantas and I'll get to watch it at the end of the year, nearer the end of the project. </li><li>I'm not really looking forward to the red-eye tomorrow night </li></ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MDB708QbqMY" width="320" youtube-src-id="MDB708QbqMY"></iframe></div><p>And I must remember to pack my Fire Stick. It lets me watch Netflix while I'm up here, I must not leave it behind.</p><p>And maybe tomorrow I'll get the time and gumption to write about what I really wanted to write about. </p><p>And I might get a final swim in after work tomorrow. </p><a href="https://youtu.be/blO3EtP_D10" target="_blank">Today's song:</a><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/blO3EtP_D10" width="320" youtube-src-id="blO3EtP_D10"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-61903457928311789592024-03-06T01:13:00.002+11:002024-03-06T01:13:19.843+11:00Unpublished Critics<p> We have a debrief in the pool. We've found it's the best place to wash off the day. </p><p>And it had been a funny day. Nothing bad. For me, it started in one office, a couple of big meetings before making my way across town to the other site. After half an hour at the other site, I packed up and when back to the other office - it was too noisy and there I was getting too many interruptions.</p><p>The second-best thing to happen, after the nightly swim was getting caught in the rain on the way back to the other site. I'd left my work thongs and umbrella in my room - great use they were there. </p><p>The rain is different up here during the wet. Heavy, sheets of rain that bombard you, flatten you while crossing the streets. Rain that brings streams flowing across the streets in minutes, only to disappear the second the sun comes out. It also significantly cools the area until the sun comes out. It's probably why I'm tolerating the heat so much better now than I did a year ago, when I thought the weather was going to kill me.</p><p>Thankfully the main drags of Darwin have verandahs and other permanent awnings to keep both the sun and rain at bay. You only have to face the weather when you're crossing the streets. </p><p>My respite from the noise lasted about an hour, when my team returned to the other office where I'd decamped. </p><p>Regardless, after work, we went and had a swim and after the chatter about work, we talked about the singer from last night. </p><p>We're both music lovers. </p><p>"His choice of Australian Crawl songs was a bit left of centre," said my colleague. </p><p>"You'd expect him to play Reckless."</p><p>"That's my favourite song," I told them. </p><p>"It's one of mine too."</p><p>"I thought "Oh, no, not you again" was quite an inspired choice."</p><p>"It took me a while to work out who it was."</p><p>Being a youth of the eighties, there are many of us who have an encyclopedic knowledge of Australian 80s music. </p><p>"So, what would you have him play if you wanted him to play another song of theirs?"</p><p>"Easy," I told them. "Unpublished Critics."</p><p>This is one of those quintessential Australian Crawl songs which many people know, but which nobody knows the lyrics, or the title for that matter. </p><p>"You'd know it."</p><p>"I don't think I do."</p><p>"It's one of those songs which nobody can quite understand the lyrics."</p><p>"It's Australian Crawl. Nobody knows what James Reyne is singing about. He's unintelligible."</p><p>"Unless he's doing a cover version of Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights - then you can understand every word."</p><p>It's true - look it up on Youtube. </p><p>I'll continue to love Unpublished Critics. I wonder what 13-year-old me would be writing down as I stopped and started the tape deck, trying to write down the lyrics. Kids today don't know what they're missing. All they have to do is look yup the lyrics. </p><p>Despite the dodgy vocal stylings of this so very Australian band, I'm going to say that this is my second favourite song of Australian Crawl. It reminds me of summer and driving along the beach. It reminds me of Adidas Romes and Farrah Fawcett flicks. It reminds me of how good Australian music can be.</p><p>It also provides the perfect song to encapsulate Darwin. It shows the mood here. It's the chorus that does it.</p><p>"I.... just want to get away...."</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YA2P-0D2yds" target="_blank">Today's Song: </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oxqreCG0htQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="oxqreCG0htQ"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-86526839617507653112024-03-05T01:05:00.001+11:002024-03-05T01:18:42.440+11:00Just back from the PubIt's 10.30 and I'm just back from the pub. <div><br /></div><div>I was going to go for a quick dinner and a quick drink. After the last two weeks, and the weekend down at the retreat, I was ready to crash at five p.m.. but a quick dip in next door's pool and I was ready to at least get dinner. As nothing is open in Darwin City on a Monday, it was back down the Cavanagh Hotel for dinner. </div><div><br /></div><div>They really do the best steak. A small piece of eye fillet, cooked rare, with chimmichuri sauce and some salad. Bliss. They also have these alcoholic slushies - a couple of Dark and Stormies (Rum, bitters and ginger beer) and I could have gone home. </div><div><br /></div><div> But a rogue work colleague had said there was live music out in the Cav's courtyard and they'd gone out for a listen. We weren't aware of the music. According to them, this was a bit of the real Darwin. In the courtyard you find the great unwashed congregating beneath ceiling fans, showing off their tattoos while their packets of Winfield Blue sit on a waiting coaster. They warned us that it wasn't as sanitised as the Cav's restaurant area. </div><div><br /></div><div>What we discovered was a bit of the real Darwin. </div><div><br /></div><div>Something about Darwin that not many people know - it's the one place in Australia where you can find live music every night. Including Monday night, where Darwin is normally deader than Stuart Highway roadkill. </div><div><br /></div><div>What we found was a wonderful fellow on a guitar singing pub standards. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was great. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm out with the team and I'm happily singing along. </div><div> </div><div><div>I'm with a team where I'm comfortable enough to sing along with the talent. And yes, he was playing from the great Australian song book. He asked for requests. Hunters and Collectors. Oasis. Pete Murray, The Verve. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>He sang it, we kept up with him. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was a great night. </div><div><br /></div><div>And here is a picture of my beer. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" class="placeholder" height="240" id="abebc8da3f812" src="https://www.blogger.com/img/transparent.gif" style="background-color: #d8d8d8; background-image: url('https://fonts.gstatic.com/s/i/materialiconsextended/insert_photo/v6/grey600-24dp/1x/baseline_insert_photo_grey600_24dp.png'); background-position: center; background-repeat: no-repeat; opacity: 0.6;" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But best of all, I have a team with whom I can go out and have some fun.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also found out that the three of us can vaguely sing in tune. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://youtu.be/inKlN0ScObA" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/inKlN0ScObA" width="320" youtube-src-id="inKlN0ScObA"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-1712736171616784032024-03-03T09:39:00.002+11:002024-03-03T09:39:51.377+11:00Sunday Stealing: Crafty<p _msthash="1554" _msttexthash="24431290">Another writer's block, another blog post to get out of the way, particularly as I'm heading up to Darwin tomorrow night - having this done means I don't have to worry about it with everything else going on in the morning. </p><p _msthash="1554" _msttexthash="24431290">I will say that I'm having the time of my life down here on the Great Ocean Road. This was the view I woke up to. I took this at ten to seven. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj527yyh3HguQYlwz-3JZfCVyY0ptTe0UylC8jtF5lp86EO9mL12NRpAN84ObCoqPvQnsA-Nhiae7OSiyqEWahydOn1z4h7W9SB9YpH-4MD4KOB1rya0o2DA_EpNdU2Xd95zPh3qN3CEB3wGvY5qHt10HXuL95zMkS7i0IFmURuwHK371E3DuKjZkmBvyQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="539" data-original-width="479" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj527yyh3HguQYlwz-3JZfCVyY0ptTe0UylC8jtF5lp86EO9mL12NRpAN84ObCoqPvQnsA-Nhiae7OSiyqEWahydOn1z4h7W9SB9YpH-4MD4KOB1rya0o2DA_EpNdU2Xd95zPh3qN3CEB3wGvY5qHt10HXuL95zMkS7i0IFmURuwHK371E3DuKjZkmBvyQ=w379-h427" width="379" /></a></div><p></p><p><span _msthash="1556" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="2337426">Questions, as always, brought to you by Bev at <a _mstmutation="1" href="http://sundaystealing.blogspot.com/2024/03/sunday-stealing-crafty.html" target="_blank">Sunday Stealing.</a></span> </p><p><b _msthash="1557" _msttexthash="2418715">1. What (if anything) are you doing to celebrate St Patrick's Day?</b></p><p _msthash="1558" _msttexthash="25291266">I will be doing nothing out of the ordinary. St Patrick's Day isn't a thing for me. I might have a bit of a giggle at Blarney the day after - being Irish, she often has a big day on 17 March. It happens most years when we ply her with water and paracetamol. </p><p><b _msthash="1559" _msttexthash="3599414">2. What is your least favorite color (to wear, to craft with or to decorate with)?</b></p><p _msthash="1560" _msttexthash="12900329">Pink. I really don't like pink. I'll do apricot at a push, but not pink. It's almost a cellular dislike of the colour. Never have liked. I mean, it's only a colour...</p><p><b _msthash="1561" _msttexthash="1494818">3. At a yellow light - do you speed up or slow down??</b></p><p _msthash="1562" _msttexthash="16710941">A bit of both. Depends on how close the intersection I find myself. I'm a bit more inclined to slow down and stop after receiving a red camera fine a few weeks ago - which I am contesting. How can it be a school zone if the school is bloody closed?</p><p><b _msthash="1563" _msttexthash="1669629">4. How many pairs of scissors are in your craft room?</b></p><p _msthash="1564" _msttexthash="38267177">I don't have a craft room, but I know I own about four pairs of scissors. One for the kitchen, one for paper cutting, one general pair and one other for my craft bag for snipping wool and thread. All of the scissors are left-handed or multi use. I can't use scissors with my right hand. </p><p><b _msthash="1565" _msttexthash="2732145">5. What are the first three items you have 'saved for later' on Amazon?</b></p><p _msthash="1566" _msttexthash="54419781">As Amazon is an evil conglomeration looking to overtake the world, I use them as little as possible. I've got a few books lined up on my Audible account for future purchase. That is about it. Amazon, I find, is good for small technology purchases and very hard to find books. Still, they are my last resort when it comes to buying things. </p><p><b _msthash="1567" _msttexthash="4087707">6. Did you plant any springs bulbs in your garden and if so, have any of them come up yet?</b></p><p _msthash="1568" _msttexthash="14753648">I don't have a garden. I don't like gardening. So no, I haven't planted any bulbs. We're also going into Autumn (Fall) here , which is when you're not supposed to plant bulbs. </p><p><b _msthash="1569" _msttexthash="1352000">7. What book, if any, are you reading right now?</b></p><p _msthash="1570" _msttexthash="13748319">Ah, I'm about to embark on reading Rebecca F. Kuang's <i>Yellowface</i> again. It's our book group book. I didn't love it the first time around, but it is our book group book. </p><p _msthash="1571" _msttexthash="2871245">I was really enjoying Madeleine Gray's <i>Green Dot </i>- far more my cup of tea before having to start <i>Yellowface</i> for book group. </p><p _msthash="1572" _msttexthash="4384406">On audiobook, I'm listening to<i> Anna O </i>by Matthew Blake - a thriller. I'm really enjoying it. Dan Stevens has a great voice. </p><p><b _msthash="1573" _msttexthash="3289702">8. Do you prefer ball point pens, gel pens, or thin tip markers to write with?</b></p><p _msthash="1574" _msttexthash="22637615"> I love writing with very fine point black ballpoint pens. I get them at Officeworks and use them until no more ink remains. It has to be the finest of ballpoints, even though they make my handwriting look spidery. </p><p><b _msthash="1575" _msttexthash="10905986">9. What is your favorite crafting item - the craft item thing you use the most or can't live without? (Exclude basic items like scissors and glue).</b></p><p _msthash="1576" _msttexthash="8490014">I can't live without my knitting needles, crochet hooks and a large darning needle. I both knit and crochet and love doing both. </p><p><b _msthash="1577" _msttexthash="4617808">10. What are the first 3 items on your grocery list and what is your favorite grocery store?</b></p><p _msthash="1578" _msttexthash="16791138">My grocery list always starts out with Almond Milk, chicken and salad. Sometimes, if I'm running really low, it will read cat food, fish and bread. But most weeks it is the former list. </p><p><b _msthash="1553" _msttexthash="3392480">11. What unfinished craft projects are you working on (or not:) at the moment?</b></p><p _msthash="1736" _msttexthash="18077748">Not so much a craft project, but I'm ploughing through a novel I wrote about five years ago at the moment. Gotta say, it's a bit better than I remembered. I don't want to vomit. That's something. </p><p _msthash="1579" _msttexthash="3159234"><b>12. What was the last item you pinned on Pinterest? Or hearted on Instagram</b></p><p _msthash="5645" _msttexthash="20487402">I am rarely on Pinterest - it's not my vibe. As for Instagram, I hearted some of the photos from the current retreat by one of my fellow retreat dwellers. That and cat pictures, because cat pictures rule. </p><p _msthash="1580" _msttexthash="2104778"><b>13. What is the biggest tourist attraction where you live?</b></p><p _msthash="9554" _msttexthash="4127890"> Melbourne has a lot to offer itself when it comes to attractions. Some of the things we like to promote are:</p><p _msthash="9554" _msttexthash="4127890"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The excellent coffee</li><li>The art-filled laneways</li><li>The excellent shopping</li><li>The National Gallery of Victoria, which seriously punches above its weight.</li><li>The sporting venues and subsequent sporting activities - think Australian Rules Football</li><li>The niche inner city suburbs, which are all different</li><li>The proximity to the wine regions of the Mornington Peninsula, Bellarine Peninsula and the Yarra Valley</li><li>To name a few things</li></ul><div>Melbourne is a cosmopolitan city. Sydney is faster paced and has the beauty of the harbour. Adelaide is a smaller, more compact version of Melbourne (with an even better food and wine culture), And Tasmania is definitely worth a look if you are ever over here. </div><p></p><p _msthash="1581" _msttexthash="1090648"><b>14. What color is your favorite sweater?</b></p><p>I have this gorgeous bright green jumper, and it is excellent. </p><p _msthash="1582" _msttexthash="2184650"><b>15. How does your family react when you get a big pile of mail?</b></p><p _msthash="1582" _msttexthash="2184650">I live alone. Nobody is going to comment on what mail I get. Besides, most of my mail comes to me electronically.</p><p _msthash="1582" _msttexthash="2184650"><a href="https://youtu.be/xPU8OAjjS4k" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xPU8OAjjS4k" width="320" youtube-src-id="xPU8OAjjS4k"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-12125482629340833172024-03-02T14:17:00.002+11:002024-03-02T14:17:55.828+11:00I want to be a Pirate<p> Today's post comes from a writing prompt at the retreat. All of this from a small wooden block. </p><p><br /></p><p>Some of us are meant to be near the sea. We need the constant reminder that we are small, infinitesimal even. That we are the grain of sand and not the wave. That we are the detritus, the flotsam and the jetsam, not the power behind the destruction. </p><p>I was thinking this driving down the Great Ocean Road, motoring past the old growth forests, besides the undulating seas. The acknowledgement that I am just a little thing – a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it phenomena on a winding road, heading towards a known place. </p><p>It felt good. </p><p>I am not the pirate, onboard the ship, terrorising all around. I am not that misunderstood. I am not that steampunk version of humanity, forced to negotiate a life away from society. I am not hunted. I am not a visible manifestation of societies scars. As I have two eyes in working order, I have depth perception – no eye patch. I bathe – something that a pirate probably does not do. I read. It’s hard to find an abundance of fresh water on a leaky boat. </p><p>I have a permanence, that any self-respecting pirate would loathe. Dress him in pink and call him Shirley. You’ll have better odds at survival. I do not seek out danger. </p><p>Still, I want to be a pirate. </p><p>Turning 55 brought some serious lifestyle questions to the fore. I didn’t think I would still be alive, if I’m perfectly honest. My father died at 55. My father also had a slew of complex medical problems for most of his life and his passing was a blessing. Things would be different if he had been well. But he knew no different. </p><p>On reaching this age, other than finding myself suffering from crippling anxiety, which has now been addressed, it is as if I’ve been given permission to live. `<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </p><p>Which is what a pirate would do. </p><p>Pirates answer to nobody. For why should they? Their ship is their home. Their universe. </p><p>They wear what they bloody well want. I will be a pirate who wears an apricot house robe, and dance around my space without a care. </p><p>They speak with authority, for a pirate doesn’t have the constraints of being pigeonholed. It’s not as if they’re a Generation X woman, with all of the crap they’ve been conditioned with over their years. They may have had to raise themselves, look after themselves, and get themselves out of many a sticky situation, like today’s average middle-aged woman, but they are unapologetic about it. </p><p>A pirate would never say sorry – unless they had stepped on their cat’s tail. Now that is a different matter. </p><p>A good pirate does not rape or pillage. They do not steal for personal gain. Think of the Dread Pirate Roberts in The Princess Bride. He is not bad. He’s just a fellow living his life on the high seas, more sinned against than sinning, looking for somebody to replace them when their bones become creaky and the seas to rough. </p><p>And no pirate in their right mind would want to be trapped. Anything to avoid a jail cell, the stocks, or heaven help it, a noose around their neck. That noose could be anything from a football scarf to a diamond necklace to a business tie. The only thing that could reign in a pirate is love. Well, that’s what I like to think. </p><p>To be a pirate is to be responsible for your own welfare and happiness – and to an extent those in their direct circle of influence – and that is it. A pirate knows his boundaries, both internal and external. </p><p>So, I sit here, looking out at the sea, pondering my place in the world, knowing that I’d rather be on the sea, being an active participant in the way that I run my life, rather than life running me. </p><p>I don’t give a fuck about the rest of the stuff. For people will judge the clothes, the outlook the viewpoint, the lifestyle. I would not care. </p><p>Pirates are the masters of their own domain. They are the absolute authority on being authentic. They answer to nobody.</p><p>So here am I, lounging around writing in my apricot dressing gown, drinking decaffeinated coffee, eating Turkish Delight and knowing that this is exactly what is needed at this very moment, not giving a thought to what other people think. It is not the way of the buccaneer to kowtow to others. </p><p>This freedom must take some discipline.</p><p>Then maybe, I just want to be a pirate because pirates are cool. </p><p>Arrrrrrrr.</p><div><a href="https://youtu.be/xLpfbcXTeo8" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xLpfbcXTeo8" width="320" youtube-src-id="xLpfbcXTeo8"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-49995887096331025012024-03-01T20:55:00.002+11:002024-03-01T21:00:47.570+11:00With my Tribe<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For I am with my tribe.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Which to some could be very scary, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For who knows the power of a group, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">A gaggle, a conglomeration, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Or whatever the collective noun is<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For women of a certain age, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Complete with comfy jumpers, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Dyed hair in all sorts of colours<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Statement spectacles<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And sensible shoes, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Bemoaning the fact that impending menopause<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Makes you itchy and bitchy,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">But still makes you horny as hell. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">(Did I put my vibrator away before the house sitter
came – I can’t remember)<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For I am with my tribe. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And we understand each other<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">On a cellular level.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Something most of us sadly lack<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In our everyday lives. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">These are people who you can happily talk to<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">About choice and desire<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Happiness and grief<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Love and sex<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Home and work<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Wants and needs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And the will to be yourself<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">(Which I cannot do with other friends<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">As much as I love them<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And this is okay.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For I am with my tribe. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And for two days, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I have full permission<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">To just be me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">And I will come away from this:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Replete</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Swearing</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Rejuvenated</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Rambunctious</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Horny</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">And happy.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">God help the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/_ivt_N2Zcts" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_ivt_N2Zcts" width="320" youtube-src-id="_ivt_N2Zcts"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-20221613012943698922024-02-29T23:24:00.004+11:002024-02-29T23:26:42.499+11:00Theatre Review: Rent<p> The Production: <i>Rent</i></p><p>The Theatre: The State Theatre at the Arts Centre</p><p>Stars: 4</p><p>Until 7 March. </p><p><br /></p><p>I don't really like musicals unless they are unexpected, edgy or fun. Think <i>Rocky Horror</i>, <i>The Book of Mormon </i>and <i>Chicago</i>. Some of the smaller musicals, like the <i>Heartbreak Choir </i>or<i> Fun Home</i> were magnificent. </p><p>I will go to a musical once to see what it's like, then walk out stating, "Okay, seen that. Don't need to go again."</p><p>This has happened for the following musicals:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i>Miss Saigon</i></li><li><i>Cats</i></li><li><i>The Phantom of the Opera</i></li><li><i>Hamilton</i></li><li><i>Les Miserables </i>(The best bit is when Javert jumps off the bridge)</li><li><i>Mary Poppins</i></li></ul><div>You can add <i>Rent</i> to this list. </div><div><br /></div><div>Am I glad I saw it? Yes. Will I see it again? No. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that's okay. </div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, set in the nineties in the East Village of New York, this group of street people, junkies, creatives and odd bods have been evicted from their squat, and they sing about it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can say that the singing was impeccable, and the acting, on musical standards, was great. The sets were inventive and fun. I loved the costumes. But it's a musical, and yeah, they don't really float my boat. It probably doesn't help that because of traffic, we got there ten minutes late. </div><div><br /></div><div>As there is limited info about the production on the Arts Centre website, I can't give details of the cast or creatives. From what I could see, that's why they were pimping the merch. I can say that I loved Maureen - she was fab. Mimi's septum piercing kept glimmering and I found it off-putting. Angel was fantastic. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jay said it was a very emotional musical. I didn't feel it, but I don't like musicals that much. </div><div><br /></div><div>The purists in the crowd gave this a standing ovation.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I'm not a <i>Rent</i> purist. I clapped along anyway. They deserved the applause. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, yeah, I saw<i> Rent </i>tonight. I did enjoy the production. But I've seen it - I don't need to see it again. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://youtu.be/hj7LRuusFqo" target="_blank">Today's Song:</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hj7LRuusFqo" width="320" youtube-src-id="hj7LRuusFqo"></iframe></div><p></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-42279645450782394752024-02-28T23:41:00.005+11:002024-02-28T23:41:34.274+11:00Theatre Review: The Dictionary of Lost Words<p> The Play: <i>The Dictionary of Lost Words</i></p><p>The Production: Sydney Theatre Company</p><p>The Theatre: The Playhouse at the Arts Centre</p><p>Stars: 4</p><p>Until 17 March</p><p>As with any play that’s been adapted from a book, you run the risk of either missing the point or not doing the book justice. In this case, the Sydney Theatre Company’s production of Pip Williams’ <i>The Dictionary of Lost Words</i> does a great job of presenting the book on stage. Admittedly, I liked the book, but did not love it, for stylistic reasons. I loved the story. I mean, set in Oxford, about the Oxford English Dictionary – a staple for any English Lit. student. Esme Nicholl is the precocious daughter of one of the dictionary’s compilers, hanging out at the ‘scrippy’ from a young child. </p><p>The play follows Esme’s life from the age of four, to her life as a married woman. Over the years, we see her life, the words she collects from the scriptorium, her relationships, her family, and the world events surrounding her life in Oxford. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XcwIDASI5uM" width="320" youtube-src-id="XcwIDASI5uM"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>If you've read the book, you'll get a lot out of this. It's very true to the book. If you haven't, no drama. You're just going to be told a wonderful story about a girl, her relationship to words, and a mammoth task that they undertook from the late 1800's where they began to document the English Language. <div><br /></div><div>There is a lot to love about the production. It's not a cerebral play, but it is fascinating. Where the whole premise is quite simple, the staging is inventive, making brilliant use of the split stage - a downstairs back wall made to look like the pigeonholes of the scriptorium, the upstairs area used as anything from a towpath to a bedroom, to street scenes. It made for easy transitions. Making this even better was the use of an overhead projector (remember those) which the actors manipulated from a desk central stage to great effect. Sure, it doesn't have the clout of production like The Picture of Dorian Gray, but this</div><div><br /></div><div>My theatre buddy loved this, having not read the book. She passed a comment that it was wonderful to see something which isn't full of sex, drugs and violence. Sure, there's a little bit of swearing, in context, which brings out some delightful moments of humour. </div><div><br /></div><div>For me, who likes the book, this proves a great representation of the story. Jessica Arthur's direction is on point, and James Oxlade's set is incredibly inventive. </div><div><br /></div><div>Another thing I loved was the open captioning at each side of the stage, allowing everybody to read the script as well as see the action. This accessibility was really appreciated. It's a bit like watching television with the captions on. </div><div><br /></div><div>What also interested me was the crowd demographic, which was primarily women in their middle and older ages. The book group set. I have a feeling most of the people there had read and appreciated the book. It was definitely a book group type of crowd.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the perfect show to take your mother to, or if, like me, you're a lover of the English language and enjoy a very good night out. The three-hour run time (with a 20-minute interval) went very quickly.</div><div><br /></div><div>This comes highly recommended. </div><div><br /></div><div>And if you're interested, here are some things to read about the history of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxford_English_Dictionary" target="_blank">Oxford English Dictionary</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/49354511" target="_blank">The Dictionary of Lost Words</a> by Pip Williams</div><div><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/50909.The_Surgeon_of_Crowthorne?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_21" target="_blank">The Surgeon of Crowthorne</a> by Simon Winchester</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://youtu.be/GsPq9mzFNGY" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GsPq9mzFNGY" width="320" youtube-src-id="GsPq9mzFNGY"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-48192810494141637212024-02-27T23:39:00.003+11:002024-02-28T08:09:36.743+11:00Black Beetle Night<p> I'm just back from a play. </p><p>Leaving work at 5.30, I hopped on the train and made it to the theatre with plenty of time to spare. </p><p>But I'm not going to write about the play tonight. It was very good, but that will be a job for tomorrow, when there's a bit more time. The play deserves more than a cursory review.</p><p>After depositing my friend at the cab rank, I made my way to the tram. </p><p>It's a black beetle night. </p><p>One of those warm nights, a cloying night, when the black beetles come out of the ground. </p><p>You don't see it in the city so much, well not where I am, but it's only on these warm, damp, still nights that the beetles come out. I remember as a child, how we'd wake to a verandah filled with beetles. Some alive, but most dead. I'm not sure of the moon phase, but last night, a large waning moon hung in the sky. </p><p>It was walking back from the tram last night that remembered this strange fact. I took a small detour last night. On alighting the tram and crossing the road, I checked my surroundings - as you do. I was the only one who got off the tram. There was one guy in the street. Tall. Sloppily dressed. He didn't give off good energy. Instead of following him, I turned and took the longer way, passing in front of the strip of closing restaurants and down the street next to the pub. My keys and mobile phone were in my hands. It felt safer. You do this coming home from the tram after dark.</p><p>As I walked down the road, I noticed the cockroaches skittering over the footpath - away from the restaurants. Maybe they're acting like the humidity and warmth seeking beetles. </p><p>Arriving home safely, I texted my theatre friend to tell her I arrived home safely.</p><p>The tall man I'd seen at the tram stop was rifling through the possessions of my neighbours in the carports. I didn't challenge him. Rather I slipped quietly into the stairwell and made sure the doors were locked. </p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/TxbIU0X-lCI" target="_blank">Today's song:</a> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TxbIU0X-lCI" width="320" youtube-src-id="TxbIU0X-lCI"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-51178890922639126212024-02-26T23:46:00.002+11:002024-02-26T23:57:50.397+11:00The Project<p>, In my head, I'm preparing for the weekend. </p><p>Yes, it's only Monday, but my neurodiverse brain needs everything in order so that I can leave work on Friday at around two p.m. and drive down the Great Ocean Road. I also need to be doubly packed, as I'm taking off for Darwin on Sunday night. </p><p>This means double packing, one bag for the retreat, the small suitcase for Darwin, then all of the accoutrements, such as my knitting, a book or two, all of the peripherals (which get packed regardless of where I'm going, as you need all of your cords, your power pack, a mouse or two, the small keyboard and various other bits of plastic you didn't need to pack ten years ago). </p><p>I've got other things for the retreat set aside already. A couple of books for the trading table. My spare yoga mat. A bottle of gin and some tonic. I'm undecided as to whether I take the tarot cards (and then they get transferred into the Darwin bag - the guys in the call centre love that stuff.) </p><p>I'm going to take my light dressing gown - mainly so I can mooch around in it like Poor Dear Pamela in <i>Saltburn </i>would do. It should be the weather for it. There's something very cool about mooching about in a floral apricot kimono and sparkly pink wellington boots. And why? </p><p>Well, why not?</p><p>But my big thing about going on retreat is the question of what am I going to work on? </p><p>Of course, I could go and do the set writing workshops, which are always great - but I've done a lot of the exercises a couple of times over. I think this is my eighth retreat to date. I go because I've made friends as much as I go to write. There's something very nurturing about hanging around with a mob of like-minded women. I also have my little room off the chapel, known as a 'nun hole'. The beds are comfortable, even if you get woken up by the morning disco on the Saturday. </p><p>But I digress. </p><p>What am I going to work on? </p><p>Well, I think I'm going to pull the worst of a novel I wrote a few years ago out of the bottom draw. I've got nearly 90,000 words written. The bog-standard novel comes in at around 100,000 words. </p><p>And yes, it's a crap novel, and yes, it needs a shit ton of work done on it, but I think now might be the time. </p><p>Like 90,000 words is a bit of an achievement - and I'm curious to see what I have written. </p><p>But do I take this on a stick down to Officeworks and print out a double-spaced manuscript, so I can start marking this up - or do I read the last two chapters and try and remember where I was? Do I start a new sparkly notebook for notes on this tome - as all writer's know, a new notebook works wonders for old projects. </p><p>Or do I maybe work on something else. </p><p>After five-years in the bottom draw (or in this case, hidden on an external hard drive away from harm) maybe it's time to become a proper writer - even if it is a bad novel.</p><p>Bad novels still get published sometimes. </p><p>And like 99% of wannabee writers, I'm entitled to write my bad novel. </p><p>Maybe this is what I need to get back on the fiction horse. </p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/F1WIBy6Imw8" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/F1WIBy6Imw8" width="320" youtube-src-id="F1WIBy6Imw8"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-12396244940092745792024-02-25T23:37:00.001+11:002024-02-25T23:43:05.884+11:00Sunday Stealing: Day to Day Questions<p> I'm just back from a dinner at a friend's place, which was lovely. </p><p>I've also found myself knowing I'm off on retreat on the weekend. </p><p>And I've found a novel that I was working on a few years ago - there's nearly 90,000 words in the file. So, I've got something to work on while I'm down the Great Ocean Road. I'm a little bit excited. </p><p>Anyway, on with the weekly questions, provided, as always, by Bev at <a href="https://sundaystealing.blogspot.com/2024/02/sunday-stealing_01112639035.html" target="_blank">Sunday Stealing</a>. </p><p><b>1. Have you ever smoked cigarettes?</b></p><p>I used to smoke socially, but I gave that up fifteen years ago. One of the best decisions I've ever made. </p><p><b>2. What do you think of hot dogs?</b></p><p>Hot dogs aren't a huge thing over here, but I don't mind them. The best ones used to come from the roadhouses on the way to Adelaide, where they used to toast the bun, butter it, then put in the sausage with lots of sauce (and maybe a bit of mustard). This may sound very strange to the Americans out there, but we do hot dogs differently. I'm also quite partial to the hot dogs they have at IKEA - little ones, where you can lather on the sauce and mustard. </p><p><b>3. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?</b></p><p>I'm a coffee girl - and I can't survive without my almond decaf latte. </p><p><b>4. What's your favorite piece of jewelry that you own?</b></p><p>I have three strands of a Pandora bracelet, which I love. I often wear a couple of Pandora beads on a leather strap - it's a bit more casual. I also have a pair of cherry drop earrings which I found at a market in town. They are fun to wear. </p><p><b>5. Name three drinks you regularly drink?</b></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Water</li><li>Coffee</li><li>Kombucha</li></ul><p></p><p><b>6. Like to travel?</b></p><p>I love to travel. It's one of my favourite things to do. Long haul, short haul, to little local places, or going overseas. I love traveling. There should be more of it. </p><p><b>7. What should you be doing right now?</b></p><p>My ironing. The ironing pile is huge, and I need to get it done by Wednesday when Kat is coming over to get the keys. </p><p><b>8, Your phone rings. Who do you want it to be?</b></p><p>Anybody other than a telemarketer. </p><p><b>9. Do you like to ride horses?</b></p><p>Do I like to ride horses? Umm, I haven't ridden a horse in probably 40 years, so I couldn't tell you. I know that I happily talk to horses when I see them. </p><p>10. In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener?</p><p>I'm a bit of both. I love to listen. And I like to talk. It's good to give other people a say, just as it's good to be heard. I can talk to anybody. But I will listen to anybody too. </p><p><b>11. What's in your pocket right now?</b></p><p>Nothing. I'm not wearing anything with pockets. </p><p><b>12. Last thing that made you laugh?</b></p><p>I'm currently reading a book called <i>When God Was A Rabbit </i>by Sarah Winman. I'm loving the book, which I'm listening to on audiobook. It's laugh out loud funny in places. It's situations I can completely relate to on a cellular level. </p><p><b>13. How many TVs do you have in your house?</b></p><p>Two. One in the lounge room, one in the bedroom. </p><p><b>14. Who's your loudest friend?</b></p><p>Do I have to name just one? That person is probably going to be one of the people I go on retreat with. They are fantastic people, but there's a lot of rather loud people in the group. I love them for it. </p><p><b>15. Favorite sports team? (If you don't have one, just state that ...)</b></p><p>The Adelaide Crows - they are an Australian Rules football team. </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/f-mmg4egLtM" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/f-mmg4egLtM" width="320" youtube-src-id="f-mmg4egLtM"></iframe></div>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-83461461006256539932024-02-24T19:28:00.002+11:002024-02-25T14:32:30.083+11:00Theatre Review: Meet Me at Dawn<p>Theatre Review</p><p>The Play: <i>Meet Me at Dawn</i> by Zinnie Harris</p><p>The Theatre: The Fairfax Studio at the Arts Centre</p><p>Stars: 3.5</p><p>Until 16 March</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm filing<i> Meet Me At Dawn </i>as not the worst thing I've seen, yet not the best either - which is why I've given it a 3.5 stars. Strangely, the more I think about this short play, the more I think I like it. But it's taken a few hours of ruminating to arrive at this sentiment. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ceZKUib_Dbs" width="320" youtube-src-id="ceZKUib_Dbs"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p>And oddly enough, my Facebook page reminded me that a year ago today, I was seeing the same actress, Sheridan Harbridge, in the same space in <i>Prima Facie</i>. And she was excellent. </p><p>So, what is this two-hander about? </p><p>The play starts when our two characters, Robyn and Helen are washed ashore on a beach. It appears that the couple have had a day trip on a boat go wrong. We learn that the couple are very different people, Helen being more free-spirited, and Robyn more tightly sprung. You're not sure what is happening, until you find out just what is going on. </p><p>Unfortunately, it takes 45 minutes of this 75 minute play to get there. The last half hour of the play is incredibly moving. </p><p>I'm being vague about the plot as not to spoil it. but as the MTC blurb on the website says, this is about " One day. One wish. Two lovers find themselves shipwrecked on a strange shore. As Helen and Robyn slowly piece together the nature of their predicament, what emerges is an unravelling of everything they thought they knew about themselves, each other and the life they’ve created."</p><p>What I can say is that once they get going, the performances are excellent. Jong-Xuan Chan is particularly good as the injured Helen. Sheridan Harbridge, coming off of her stellar performance in last season's Prima Facie, is also good as these two lovers negotiate their strange world. </p><p>Scottish playwright, Zinnie Harris' play is an exploration of grief, and the processes we go through to find solance. It has as many laugh-out-loud moments as it does those which bring tears to your eyes. Katy Maudlin's direction keeps the production moving, even when the context on stage is slow. </p><p>This is one of those plays which will stay with me for a while. Even though I wasn't convinced early on, it grew on me. Which is the sign of a good play. </p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/Kq-jLjCVx_Q" target="_blank">Today's song: </a></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Kq-jLjCVx_Q" width="320" youtube-src-id="Kq-jLjCVx_Q"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966368087145658519.post-85110320646237677422024-02-23T20:27:00.002+11:002024-02-24T22:57:53.493+11:00The Tickets<p> It fell to me to sit online and get the tickets, and that was okay. It was my turn to do this. It was my turn. And I could do this while I was at work, having the Ticketmaster tab opened in the background, watching the queue go down from 37000 to something more reasonable over the following half hour. I got some work done while watching the queue diminish. </p><p>The concert - Pearl Jam. </p><p>But I'm not going for them. I don't mind Pearl Jam. I like their early stuff. I know their lead singer is Eddie Vedder, but that is about the end of it. </p><p>No, I'm not paying $225 to get a general admission ticket to see them. I know that Barney and his mate Bossman are big Pearl Jammers. My friend El is coming along too. </p><p>Nope, I'm going for The Pixies - who are playing as the support act. </p><p>Yep, The Pixies are coming to town. And while I know very few facts about Pearl Jam, I can tell you all sorts of weird stuff about my favourite band. I will spout daft facts like: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Black Francis's real name is Charles Thompson IV</li><li>That they come from Boston, Massachussetts</li><li>That Dave Lovering, the drummer has a cat called Norman</li><li>That there was a bassist who took over from Kim Deal, but she didn't work out, but Paz Lenchantin has forged forth and is very much a part of the band</li><li>And that Joey Santiago is one of the most underrated guitarists of the twentieth century. </li></ul><div>Yes, I need to be there, even if I go home before Pearl Jam goes on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Especially as I'll be getting there early as Glen Hansard is coming on at the start. </div><div><br /></div><div>Glen Hansard you ask?</div><div><br /></div><div>He was responsible for the music of the Movie / Stage show Once - and if you haven't seen it - dig it out, Irish music at its absolute best. </div><div><br /></div><div>See below:</div><div><br /></div><div>Mind you, this is all happening on a Monday in November, as by the time I got to the front of the queue, the first concert had sold out. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nevertheless, it's still something to look forward to.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zi4hRF9NsA8" target="_blank">Today's song:</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zi4hRF9NsA8" width="320" youtube-src-id="zi4hRF9NsA8"></iframe></div><p></p>Pandora Behrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17582255671962095503noreply@blogger.com0