High Anxiety

Yesterday, because we are not going to be in town for Christmas itself, we had my in-laws over for lunch. We also managed to rope in a cousin, his wife and their two adorable daughters (6 and 4). Small children make everything more fun.

On Friday I was late home from work because I had to dash into the city to swap a gift and then got stuck in hideous traffic. I went to bed that night in a state of high anxiety because I felt completely underprepared. Gifts were ready and wrapped but I had really only half a clue as to what I was making for lunch.

Yesterday morning I sent Spouse off to the Fish Markets to buy cooked prawns and Sydney rock oysters. The gravlax (which I started on Wednesday night) was ready - so seafood was the first course with baguettes & butter. For main we had smoked duck salad with pickled cherries, a tiny boneless ham and a small turkey roll, with potato salad (with some of my home cured bacon) and green beans. Turned out I didn't have the wire rack for my wok to smoke the duck, so I made do with a bamboo steamer which is now somewhat charred, but did the job. My MIL made the pavlova - and just to make sure we didn't starve, brought some cheese for later.

We put the little marquee up in the backyard and feasted and had a lovely afternoon.

I need to remind myself that I always end up managing somehow and shouldn't get so strung out in advance ...

Now that's done, I have to clean up and pack my bag, because we're off to Tasmania on a 6am flight (truth) on Tuesday and I'm at work tomorrow (Monday). Once we're there, the planning of the next feast begins.

At some point, I'm hoping to put my feet up, grab a book and switch off the world. Our friends' property in Tassie is about the best place to do that, once I've cooked Christmas dinner and run a tie-dye and candlemaking workshop with their little girls (8 and 6) ...

Orlando

On Friday night, a lovely friend of mine took me to see the Sydney Theatre Company's adaptation of Orlando. We both love the book, and the movie, but were unsure what to expect of a play.
It was fabulous. I am always astonished by the creativity of theatre, the sets, the design, the concepts. And, of course, the actors.
I was also reminded how lucky I am to have the sort of life where I can go to see a play in the Sydney Opera House - enjoying our beautiful harbour on a warm summer evening (even there were so many people out that it reminded me of pigeons in Piazza San Marco).
Watching Orlando, as s/he trips through different lives, also made me think about how I seem to have woken up in a different life this year. No gender switching - thank goodness, I'm not sure I'd cope - but so many other things are suddenly not the same as they used to be. For 20 years I have worked freelance and/or taught school, fitting my work around the rest of my life and my kids. Now, I can go days without even seeing Kid 1, as I leave for work before he gets up in the morning, and he's often out in the evening, getting home after I've gone to bed. Kid 2 is still at school, but, at 15, understandably less interested in talking to me or spending time with me - even if I had that time. In the mornings we argue about the necessity of her eating breakfast; in the evenings we argue about the necessity of her doing homework, even if she's tired - while I'm cooking dinner, doing the laundry and trying to finish my second shift of the day.
As for my job, the insanity of sitting at a desk all day, even when I sometimes have nothing to do, drives me crazy. There are upsides - it's fun to get to know younger colleagues, it's fun to socialise from time to time - but mostly my job makes me feel like I am treading water and wishing my life away at the same time. I know it's the reality of work for many people; again, I should be grateful that I have a job. 

Gods and Monsters

This year feels like it has been only monsters. My older brother committed suicide. My husband was made redundant in February and hasn't found a job. My daughter has not been chosen for anything - exchange, peer support, school drama production - that she applied for. My son did badly in his final exams and has no plans for the future.
Is it my fault? I try to work out what I have done or not done. Could I have been a better sister/wife/mother/person and stopped these things from happening? Probably not. Which doesn't really help.
Instead, I have done the only things I could. Flown to the US for a funeral. Got a full-time job that I hate and given up the thing I love, teaching. Tried to be supportive of my kids.
I know I have plenty to be grateful for, but I am worn out. 

The Company You Keep

Last night, my lovely brother took the kids to a show, so Spouse and I went to a movie. We really wanted to see Rust & Bone, but our local arthouse cinema (walking distance, how I love that) is closed for renovations so we ended up at the nearest multiplex, watching Robert Redford's latest, The Company You Keep.


It was OK, but not great. There were some wonderful actors in minor roles and cameos. I did spend much of the second half fascinated by Julie Christie's face. She's admitted to plastic surgery, and most of it is pretty good, but whatever she's done to her lips is just horrible.

As for Robert Redford. Well, I still have a crush on him, even if he is 76 years old. 

Anger Management

I am well aware that retail therapy is often a bad idea. You feel grumpy/anxious/angry/depressed/hungry, so you buy something. Then you feel exactly how you felt before, plus some guilt. At least that's generally my pattern.

Sometimes, however, it works out just fine.

This Etro stretch silk top - purchased on a nobody-loves-me-everybody-hates-me-think-I'll-go-and-eat-worms day - arrived on Monday and it is Just Gorgeous. I hardly ever wear patterns (other than stripes and the occasional polka dot) but because the colours in this one are quite neutral and suit my colouring, it works. And the cut is ridiculously flattering, even on my sausage shaped physique.

I can't wait to wear it ... Black velvet jeans or black tulle skirt?

PS Must keep doing yoga in order to bare arms.

Horrible Bosses

I don't think I've ever had a horrible boss. Mind you, I haven't had that many bosses, since I've been my own boss (and other people's) since I was in my late 20s.

But I have had a couple of great bosses. The best was my first 'real' boss, in my first 'real' job out of university - book editor at a legal publishing firm. Not very glamorous, I know, but how I loved it. My boss was a woman in her 50s who was clever, stylish, demanding and scrupulously fair. She had 4 adult sons and a much younger second husband (a lovely man) - and a cracking sense of humour. After I'd been there just a year, she got me a 35% pay rise (!) - I rewarded her by going freelance so that I could also take up a half-time teaching job at university, and she encouraged me to do so. And when I set up my own business, she sent me so much work that at one point I had 5 staff. I rather think that she regarded me as the daughter she never had. Because we are both somewhat buttoned up English types when it comes down to it - she's Anglo-Irish, I'm Singapore Colonial - I have never told her in person what an amazing mentor and aspiration she was to me, but I did finally write her a letter telling her that a few months ago. 

And today we had lunch for the first time in years. It was wonderful to see her - E is still vibrant, busy, energetic and smart (and she was wearing leopard print jeans - she's in her 70s!! - with a stylish black shirt and a charcoal cashmere scarf).

I hope two things: 1. that I can be something like her when I grow up (whenever that may be) and 2. that my daughter finds inspirational women like E in her life.

Cruel Intentions

Horrifying atrocities happen all over the world, all the time. We become somewhat inured, unless there is a personal element that hits home.

The Boston Marathon bombing has that element for me. I've never been to Boston, but I'm married to a runner who has Boston on his wishlist of marathons - we talked just a couple of weeks ago about when we might get to it. I know and love many runners. I know the excitement of travelling to a great race in a great city, and I know the thrill and anticipation of cheering on the runners and waiting at the finish line. I can only imagine the horror of such a terrorist attack. It seems particularly cruel and cowardly to strike at an event which represents so many hopes and so much hard work.