Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt ..

My last blog entry concluded by expressing thanks to my oldest friends for still being there.

Sadly a couple of days ago with a very heavy heart I attended the funeral of my first very best friend. Between the ages of 6 to 15 we were inseparable.

Long before the term 24/7 was coined that was us.

Annette and I.  Me and Annette.  The two of us.

We first ‘fell in love’ in 1968 - midyear in grade 2 at primary school. She was assigned to look after the new little girl. That would be me.  She took the role seriously, from the very first day. Annette was really lucky in the ’really lucky’ world of childhood. She lived 3 houses away from school. Not from the front gate but from the big hole in the side fence. Near the arboretum. It was most firmly against the rules to go through ‘the hole’. And so of course for 6 years we did! Sometimes we even ran screamimg .. particularly when someone yelled snake!

Annette’s house was the stop-in point for me every morning and every afternoon and sometimes even at lunch time if we managed to sneak unseen through ‘the hole’. And on the days her mother worked, Annette and her brother came to my house to ‘be minded’. We spent so much time together we honestly believed we looked alike. But I was the brunette to her blonde. And she was fair skinned while I was always golden. And she wore glasses. I was always fascinated with this particular accessory and begged her to let me wear them whenever possible! She looked angelic, while I resembled a chocolate.

In all the hundreds of weeks and thousands of hours we spent entertaining each other we only ever fell out once.

When we weren’t at school we were at dancing. We danced away the years. Ballet, Tap and Jazz! We orchestrated lavish productions every lunch hour for our classmates. One particular year we were separated. She was in one class and I was in another. It was devastating. And even worse was that our cast was displaced! So Annette decided to put on her own production. I really can’t remember why but I was incensed! And I was even more incensed when I got word she was using props. PROPS!

Annette showed particular promise at ballet and on Saturday mornings was taken to a special ballet class. I was in awe of her and was almost as excited as she was the first time she went en pointe! I desperately wanted to go en pointe too! I desperately wanted pink satin shoes with long pink ribbons. But my mother wouldn’t let me. It was swimming followed by Brownies! I was never indoors. Is it any wonder I resembled a chocolate. Wearing flippers. With a love of belts, hats and bags. When all I wanted was a tutu.

So - Miss Annette was pulling out all stops with all her little tips gleaned from ‘special ballet’. My God – while my lot were singing the theme song from Gilligan’s Island her lot were Singin’ in the Rain and she was Debbie Reynolds. With umbrellas no less! Oh yes indeed behind that blonde angelic smile and those pussycat glasses was a fighter. Little did we know.

It was all on. Suddenly I became Calamity Jane and complete with holster and cap gun I was ready to ‘just blow in from the windy city’. Until the great finale was a spectacular failure when the cap gun failed to ‘cap’ and I wished desperately that I was whip crack away, whip crack away, whip crack away ..

That night at swimming club Annette’s mother and my mother had had enough. They demanded that we both hug and make up. And so we did. It was all that easy. Because we had had enough too. We desperately missed the routine of our young lives. And we missed each other. And then we ate Twisties. Because that’s what you did at swimming club.

When it came time for high school Annette was sent to the local Catholic College to become a young lady and I was sent to a not so local State High School. These schools proved very successful for very early in life she became a married young lady and I was in quite a state!

Annette’s funeral, as with all funerals of those who die relatively young was extremely emotional. But the saddest moment for me was hugging her Mum. I could feel it in her arms that she that she was remembering, and I was silently wishing I didn’t look quite so healthy. Foolish I know. Her little fighter battled cancer for five years and she died emaciated and paralysed, the pussycat glasses long gone but it was said that the smile was there until the end.

Annette had a purple casket. Purple was her favourite colour – although I never knew that. Everyone was encouraged to write on the casket with the markers provided. I chose not to do so. Firstly because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to stop, but mostly I was concerned the words would be smudged and illegible.

 The funeral was in the Northern Suburbs of Brisbane, an area I am not so familiar with these days. By the time I found my way home after one slightly wrong turn I had had plenty of time to think about life and good health in general. It was a very hot and particularly humid day. And I desperately needed a swim. And a drink. But I found myself questioning.

Did we really need open that bottle of icey cold Sauvignon Blanc?

Should I slather myself with sunscreen and was I too old to be pulling on a bikini on the eve of 51 and maybe just a wee bit cuddly right now? Just a wee bit mind you!

The answers were probably no or yes, not in any particular order, but I really didn’t care. Not for that one day, it wasn’t important.

Tonight is New Year’s Eve.

Christmas is for families and New Year's Eve is for lovers. And love.
And those with brave faces.

This is my gesture of love to my first very best friend. Annette and me.

This afternoon I watched Les Miserables.

“At the shrine of friendship, never say die
Let the wine of friendship never run dry
Here's to you and here's to me”

2013 – Let’s do this.

Then I go Bom Bom

When I christened my new blog ‘bombe2012’ I think perhaps I was a little too much in the moment. I’m wondering does it give the connotation that come the end of 2012, come the end of the blog?

I am unsure.

Wow – it’s December! Last week I was asked how I would decorate the office for Christmas. Of course my first response was - the same way I decorate it every day –  just show up! But then the serious side of my nature crept in. I haven’t been at this school throughout a Christmas period. Does everyone decorate their office? Or was there just an unwritten expectation that this role take the lead?

I am unsure.

I love Christmas. I admit it – I am a Christmas girl. I’m not a Griswald but I do enjoy decking the halls and I so love a good Christmas light. I do draw the line at them flashing on my chest or dangling from my ears though!
I live on a corner block and I feel it is my neighbourly responsibility to make the gateway to the street impressive!
Tastefully impressive!

I also love a good Christmas Carol. My favourite being ‘O Holy Night’. Though I do wonder about how many of us have loved someone so much that we are given to fall on our knees? Well ok – maybe once or twice ..

So I thought that would be a great place to start. No! Not the knee thing .. Christmas carols throughout the old house.

For I work in an old house – 103 years old and converted into offices.

It is lovely. Just lovely.

And lends itself perfectly to the sound of carols playing throughout the lovely hallway. I downloaded a lovely compilation, plugged in the iPod speaker out in the hallway and away we went. It was all meant to be oh so lovely ..

"Going up in the dark of the night and so I go ooh ah ah ah ah...
I've brought a pie in my pocket, pie in my pocket, an eye in my socket.
you got life, you got style, you got nothing on my mind.
But I'm so cool, and I'm so groovy, when I go Bom Bom!"

OOPS! Wrong playlist! How did that happen!

I am unsure.

But I do love that song. It's great fun!

Isn’t it intriguing how sometimes one little word can become part of your life in so many unexpected little ways. When I called my blog 'bombe' it was purely sentimental - short for Flowerbomb among other reasons. My most favourite perfume ever.
It really is a little explosion of loveliness.

In a few weeks I'm heading home to my family. It will be so great to see them. It's been a whole year. I have to be honest – I am feeling a little forlorn about Christmas this year. Last year I had a whole month of distraction planned. Maybe it was too much. It was over-exciting. This year not so much in the pipeline. What will the week in Cedar Creek bring, apart from a little sunburn?

 I am unsure.

Though I do know I will be receiving a little bottle of FlowerBomb. I always do! And I do know that at Brissy Airport I will be pulled aside and scanned for bombs! I always am! I do know that I’ll be doing a couple of inappropriate and immature bomb dives in the pool with my little mate. We always do! And I do know we’ll be sitting out on the verandah on Boxing Day night with a bottle of very good red watching the BOM and waiting for the rain to blow on in. Because it always does.

And I do know there will be a few tears. Because there always are ..

But this year I have also learnt that the most unexpected pleasures can very well be the loveliest - and a tiny little bit magical.
Even if they bring a few tears.
Just like Christmas.
Of this I am sure.

I hope that wherever you are this Christmas - there is some Christmas loveliness there for you. For all the new friends I have made this year - thank you for allowing me into your lives. And for all the old .. it's good you're still there. x

'I want 16 pints of rrrrum and then I go Bom Bom!'

Dream a little dream ..

I love a good landmark.

Not that I drive with any measure of uncertainty but I do like to know precisely where I am going and I do like to  absolutely be in the right lane – or the left -  should it so happen.
I like to plan!

 

 

 

I am not particularly fond of GPS either. 
I’m not really sure why. I’m just not.

Admittedly, I am not that quick with left or right - that is without taking my hands off the wheel!

I used to look at my beautiful locket ring.
But I lost it.
About the time I lost my way. Prior to that I always thought I knew what was right.

I started thinking about landmarks while driving along the Beach Road to the pool of the morning.
There’s a lovely old sandstone building with a bell tower and a flag at Albert Park.
I don’t know what the building is but I do know it’s my landmark.

It’s my without taking your hands off the wheel you must absolutely turn left here right now!
And I can see it from miles away.

It stands tall.

I researched the word landmark. There is an abundance of different meanings.

But the one I loved the most was this.

Originally, a 'landmark' literally meant a geographic feature used by explorers and others to find their way back.

There are times when we all need to find our way back.

And it’s easy to feel a little directionless.

In the last few months I have been battling through a book. Recommended to me.

The battle hasn’t been not relishing the story.

The challenge has been to not let my mind wander as to why I am reading this book in the first place.

In the first few pages there is a line where one of the main characters as a young boy ponders what he will do throughout his life.

And his thoughts are 'whatever is right’.

It jumped out at me immediately.

Because it is amazing how invariably what is right can change so quickly from what was right then to what is right now.

For you.

My favourite song of the minute is Carry On by Fun!

Cause we are we are shining stars
We are invincible we are who we are
On our darkest day when we're miles away
So we'll come we will find our way home.

This week all around Australia Year 12’s are completing their final weeks of schooling. Countless numbers of Valedictory and Farewell speeches are being written and read. I know this because in between gazing out of my office window I have been editing and proof reading several of them.

 

As a small aside - gazing out of my window there stands another lovely landmark.

It is a magnificent oil palm, reminiscent of the hundreds that can be seen from the air on approach to Honolulu International Airport.
But here there is only one.
And as no other office has the perspective that I do, I kind of sentimentally think of it as my own!
I have even gone so far as to stick a hula girl decal on my window to create a 3D effect!

I know .. the Principessa thinks I’m tragic too .. but I prefer the word imaginative!

In fact I am going to take a photo of it right now so you can see! Imaginative? I'm sure you'll agree!

But - finding my way back..

I think if it were up to me to write and deliver a valedictory speech it would be very short and sweet.

It would go something like this ..

It is perfectly fine to be a dreamer.
To hold a dream in your heart.
But it is equally important to have a landmark.

So that if you lose your way you will always know that there is something still there - to guide you back.
Something or someone to help you find your way back.

But. There may well be times when you will need to hold your head high, stand tall – and be your very own landmark.

To do whatever is right.

With what is left.

For you.

And bring yourself home.

Only one week until the Melbourne Cup!
And for the past 2 years I have studied hard and backed the winner.
Even posted it on Facebook to share the love!

And while my heart still says Dunaden, I am thinking that Mount Athos is starting to look like a very good landmark.

And who could possibly resist the Lights of Heaven!

"May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground - Carry on!"

When you're weary, feeling small ..

Last week I was following a hearse across the Westgate Bridge.

If ever I needed a sign well this had to be it!

There have been several times of late when I have honestly believed that the Westgate Bridge could be the end of me. Thank God for the suicide barriers that took so long to put up we all nearly threw ourselves over the edge anyway.

The traffic was a major nightmare that morning.
Tunnels closed and gridlocks city wide.
Actually it’s a major nightmare every morning and the afternoons are even worse!  
The bridge was killing me.

But now I am looking at this situation from a whole different perspective.
I think the bridge could actually be the saving of me!

You see just lately I have been feeling a little lethargic. And a tiny bit acerbic, not so enthusiastic and lacking in the aerobic. And longing for the nostalgic while trying to stay realistic. The mornings are too hectic but I am absolutely emphatic that I am not being overdramatic!!

And then it came to me.

If I was 'up and at em’ earlier I could zoom across that bridge sooner rather than later and hit the pool farther rather than nearer.
And so I did. I joined MSAC – platinum member, why start small?

My first morning I was in a little bit of a quandary. Sheepishly I must admit I was very nervous actually.
Most of these early morning swimmers are the real deal. Most of them!

I needed to look back a rather long way to remember when I was the real deal!

The lanes in the pool are signposted - slow, medium and fast.

I didn’t really consider myself slow but the people in the medium lane looked pretty pacey to me.

 

 

So with a little trepidation I slid down into the slow lane. Only to end up following a breaststroker. A very slow breaststroker. Kind of reminded me of a spider swimming sideways. This was not a good start to reducing my stress levels.

So I swapped lanes.

Medium. Now I’ve always wanted stop traffic but not in such an overt manner ..

Back to the bridge...it had actually taken me until half way across the bridge to realise it was a hearse. Initially it had dawned on me that I was following a very long car.
With a curtain ..
I noticed the driver playing with her hair. Fluffing it up and flicking it around the place. Now I know it was a long crawl across the river and distraction was required - but even I who have the greatest love for all things hair considered this a little inappropriate!

Not that there was a body in there but still ..

Last weekend I had my locks chopped off.

In hindsight last week was a really big week.

It wasn’t the realisation that I will never be a mermaid because I still harbour great hope for the future!
It was just that I couldn’t show up to school everyday looking like I had just been washed up.
As SJP once said – we don’t just wake up looking this gorgeous!  
Well okay then I’m not in the mood to argue with you ..
But I needed adequate time to look a little respectable ..

The first morning I hit the pool I was a little baffled because I couldn’t see a clock. Anywhere. It’s been a long time since I have swum in an outdoor 50 metre pool. I had well and truly lost track of time and distance.

To any swimmer there is nothing like swimming to take yourself away.
Or take yourself back.

I could see the training clock but not the time clock.
It all seemed rather odd.
Until I spotted it behind me - from water level hidden from view by the diving block.

It seems that sometimes you really do need to look back to see how far you’ve come.

And I really needed to get out of the pool quickly and I really needed to get going!

Since I have commenced ‘training’  I feel I have improved slightly already. This morning as I was swimming in the opposite direction with perfect view of the time clock it dawned on me that while it is good that you can look behind to see how far you've come - it is equally important and wonderful to also look ahead to see how far you have left to go.

And hopefully there's a little time for curls!

This week I think I have found my stride.

And my lane.
I am not in the Tomorrowland lane.
And I am not in the Fantasyland lane.
I guess I am in Lover’s Lane.
Because I really love starting each day this way.
It’s fantastic.

Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by.

Your time has come to shine,

All your dreams are on their way.

In the pink ..

"Where there is desire
There is gonna be a flame,
Where there is a flame
Someone's bound to get burned,
But just because it burns
Doesn't mean you're gonna die,
You've gotta get up and try try try
Gotta get up and try try try
You gotta get up and try try try."

She's arrived!

PINK!

I wish I was her manager.

Is it too late?

To do a deal with the AFL/NRL?

I have overwhelming memories of Tina Turner.

You remember - Simply the Best.

"You’ve gotta get up and try try try!"

How more befitting that line than for this very week?

Yes I know you don’t score a try in AFL but you certainly at times need to get up AND try try try. Most teams year after year need to get up and try try try. And so do the fans .. just because it burns doesn’t mean you're gonna die ..

The footy finals are upon us.
Saturday and Sunday!
And it’s pretty exciting.

It's a big old week in Melbourne.

I already know who is going to win.

The Swans and The Storm 

They are. Go to the TAB. Go now.

I'm feeling lucky! 
Just like when I told you all about Americain and Dunaden.

Just like when Pinker Pinker won at 47-1.

Remember Pinker Pinker?

The horse. Ran an amazing race, won me heaps of dough and then dropped dead after a cortisone injection. Just like that. Standing one minute, in went the syringe and dead the next. There was no getting up for poor old Pinker Pinker.

I tell you. I have an extremely sore shoulder at the moment. Very tender and inflamed.
And I’m thinking breaststroke and tiger balm!

Last week I was not in the pink.

There was nothing pinker pinker at all about last week.

Perhaps pale pink but definitely not hot.

I’m quite gutted to be honest.

My lovely new boss.

Announced her resignation. End 2013 ! Yes 2013 !

I’ve gotta say it. Four months ago I would have bought a crate of champagne and danced on the beach until daybreak.

Now I’m just driving along Beach Road feeling uneasy with heartache.

We’ve only just said good morning. And now were saying goodnight.

And what a long kiss goodnight!

But doesn’t that just sum up life?

A long series of goodbyes.
Some of them more difficult than others. Some of them quick. Some of them expected. Some of them not. Some with relief. Some with confusion. Some with sadness. Some with sweetness. Some with love. Some premature. Some with longing.
And some prolonged.

But with every goodbye there’s almost certainly a hello.

You gotta get up and try. 

Good old PINK. Teaching us the truth about love. Who would have thought!

When I was a little one I would have loved to have been called Pink. I would have thought I was the bee’s knees.

But these days I’m doing ok with a
little red.

And occasionally a little white.

And I am quite fond of purple.

The Swans and the Storm.
I'm telling you .. 




"Funny how the heart can be deceiving, more than just a couple times .."