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Hmm

Another couple of weeks have gone by.

I think I am not feeling motivated to write here because I have started writing daily in the app Diaro.  I find it pretty good, especially combined with the swiftkey app which makes it faster to type.  I mentioned this app on Facebook along with a list of apps to use for the new year. Of course it was ignored.

As for Facebook, I haven’t deleted my account.  On the rare occasions one of my daughters posts something, I can view it.  I’ve become a lurker, I guess.  I have checked it a couple of times, but seriously, I’m not missing anything.  I still get that feeling of irritation so I’m well out of it.  I do, however, miss posting the odd observation or sharing an article.  I could do that on Twitter, I suppose, but I rarely go on there.  Folkdirect, as predicted, is a dead duck.

Well, while I’m here, I can say I’m thoroughly enjoying the Australian summer, compared to the crap they’re having in New Zealand.  I saw an article that mentioned that the place I used to live had the least sunshine hours of the whole country.  No wonder I was often depressed.  I’m a sun worshipper, summer being my favourite season.  Fuck winter.

I still haven’t written about my trip.  One day I might feel the urge.  It hasn’t come yet.  Maybe it never will, but I feel I should.  My hand-scrawled diary isn’t sufficient.  This blog, although public, is for me to look back on.

Well, that’s all I feel inclined to write about at present. Another update in a couple of weeks perhaps.

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Happy New Year.  It seems that a lot of people thought 2016 was horrible or expressed hatred for the year.  How can you hate a year?  It’s just a period of time.  I don’t think I’ve ever expressed a feeling of being glad to see the back of a year.  Time is precious. During any year you have good and bad.  Treasure those memories.  We’re still alive and have more to live.  Don’t take it for granted.

Anyway, I said that I would write about my trip.  I haven’t felt motivated, I suppose, because I kept a diary while overseas so felt like I’ve written about it, and also shared a lot of photos on Facebook.  I still don’t feel like writing about it all and uploading the photos again.  Perhaps in a few days.

So, I don’t have anything to say right now.  It’s a gloomy sort of day.  I guess I’m reflecting with sadness on past years and don’t really know what to do with myself today.  I got home about 2.30 am from C’s place and slept in until 10.25 am (after first being woken at about 6 am).  Since then I’ve mucked about, finally updating my genealogy blog at least.  I had thought about going out today but the afternoon is nearing the end and the weather isn’t inviting.  Tomorrow perhaps, although I’ve got to go and buy groceries yet again.

Sorry, a blog entry about nothing.  I’ll write later perhaps.  I’ll end here with my favourite photo of my mother (far more attractive than me), who died 38 years ago tomorrow.  She would have been 92, but she always said she didn’t want to grow old. (She got her wish. She never did. Be careful what you wish for.)

anne

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I felt I should drop by. Strange, what did I use to blog about? Now I don’t feel a need. Perhaps it’s because H gave me a diary and I’ve been writing there instead.  It is difficult once you get out of the habit.

I am currently unemployed. My contract ran out and could not be renewed much to the disappointment of my immediate boss and colleagues. I applied for a couple of jobs but obviously didn’t have the required experience. It is a worry but the tax refund makes up for a couple of months of unemployment. I do hope something comes up soon. Do I have any regrets? No. The only thing I really miss apart from H, is being able to drive to my brother’s for a weekend of peace, lambs and Siedler.  I do miss that. There are some people I miss from work but continuing seeing most of them meant continuing working there and I no longer wanted to. Nope, I don’t regret my move. It’s just living with uncertainty.

I will spend a weekend in Geelong soon and am planning a visit to one of my cousins in Brisbane. It costs as much to fly there as it does from NZ to Aus, which surprised me. But it is a 2 hour flight. I hope I can visit Sydney soon and would love to go on an overnight train.  The only thing holding me back from lots of travel is the need to put Jasmine in a cattery (and I don’t have a car).

So what have I been doing? Lots of genealogy while I have a sub to findmypast.  I’ve embarked on another blog challenge – this time writing about 52 ancestors in 52 weeks. So far I’ve done the grandparents. I start another genealogy course on Monday through the University of Tasmania.

There have been other niggling things to get sorted: the split-system air conditioning wasn’t working to blow out warm air; a blocked toilet; registering Jasmine’s microchip (which, according to one website, involved a trip to the vet); registering Jasmine with the council (yeah, cats are registered here and I wonder what the money’s for considering she spends most of the time indoors); ringing my aunt; tax return, etc. Of course the real estate agent dealt with the first two problems but it was good that I was home.  The other things niggled at me as they weren’t as straightforward as I’d hope they would be.

I’ve been watching some great TV programmes on SBS On Demand. There is so much good quality stuff to see. I’ve also been playing Sims 2, my only “vice” if you can call it that. I don’t know why I should feel guilty about it. Illogical isn’t it. Why should one feel guilty about a fun pastime?  It must stem from childhood. There were always chores or homework or practicing the piano to do.  Anyway, I have combined my interests in things medieval and non-serious writing by blogging a story of the lives of Sims in a medieval-themed neighbourhood.

I’m typing this on my tablet, which I hate, mainly because there is some warmth by the window here as the sun shines through on this side. My PC is in the spare room on the dark side of the building, unfortunately,  which means it’s cold.  If there are any typos it’s because of the vagaries of predictive text and the need to scroll back to proof-read. I’m now dying for a cuppa so will end here.

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I’m out of the habit of writing blog posts.  There isn’t much to write about, or not much that I want to write about.  Been busy with work then come home to eat and watch TV, etc.  I’ve been doing some futurelearn.com courses in the evening and also some genealogy.  Other than that, not much.  Come the weekend, half of it is spent cleaning and grocery shopping.

So, I should make a note of things to write, perhaps.  As it is, my mind is blank.

Til later, maybe.

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Every work-day morning I enter the building beneath a couple of Australian flags flying, and it makes me smile.  Today when I looked out of the window at work, I saw another Australian flag flying over the Treasury, or maybe Education, building and smiled again.  I can’t explain how it makes me feel.  People say the New Zealand and Australian flags look identical but to me those white stars are so obviously different and they symbolise to me a country I love.

By saying I love Australia and am happy to be here, doesn’t mean that I dislike New Zealand or was unhappy there.  I spent most of my life there and obviously have happy memories.  It’s just a deeper feeling of contentment, a sense of belonging that I feel here.  Growing up in New Zealand, I never had that sense of belonging.  I wasn’t born there.  My parents weren’t born there.  (They actually lived in New Zealand for less time than I lived in my house.)  There were no relatives living in the same country.  There was no ancestral connection, no deeper emotional tie with the land.  I always felt an outsider.  I absolutely loved every minute of every visit to Australia with my parents when visiting relatives.  I never wanted to leave.  Each time I left I cried inside.

New Zealanders often say that their country is the best in the world, or is better than any other country, particularly Australia (often uttered by people who have never left the country).  There is a strong bias against anything Australian and I got fed up with that negativity and outright racism.  It was supposed to be a joke, I suppose, but it annoyed me each and every time.  Not once in Australia have I heard a negative thing against New Zealand or its people (compared to an almost daily anti-Australian comment when in New Zealand).  Is it jealousy on the part of New Zealanders?  I don’t understand it.  It’s like an immature rivalry, as if Kiwis have a low self-esteem and have to attack to make themselves feel better.  I don’t know.  Whatever the reason, it made me regard the utterers of such negative comments as morons.  I lost any respect I might’ve had for such people.

We’re all the same, regardless of where we were born or where we live.  I dislike patriotism.  It divides, creates racism, leads to wars.  It’s fine to feel proud of your country but not to put others down as inferior.  Every country has its good and bad, beautiful scenery, political corruption, you name it.  We’re all on the same planet.  We’re all the same species.  Mother nature doesn’t give a fuck about arbitrary man-made borders.

Anyway, rant over.  I haven’t done a good job of expressing myself.  Feelings run deeper than words.

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Not much to add to the last post.  Grocery shopping is still a chore, as I can’t carry much.  I try to buy heavier items closer to home or on another trip, so I can pack and carry more from further afield.  The answer, of course, would be to buy one of those “granny trolleys” but I can’t bring myself to yet.  My mother despised them, but times have changed, and living in a big city, reliant on public transport, they’re fairly common and used by young and old.

Just over a week ago I met a contact from my old job.  We had dinner together at a local Italian restaurant.  Of the three who said they would keep in touch once I came over, she is the only one who has and is a lovely lady.  We enjoyed a fabulous meal and chat and walked back to my place.  She said she’d invite me over to their house one evening to meet the family.  Her daughter sounds a character from the stories she tells.

So, what else?  Oh, I was walking to Box Hill for the supermarket and happened upon an auction for a “Californian bungalow” house.  Pretty ordinary-looking place which needed some TLC.  The advertising focussed on development of course.  I was surrounded by Chinese people.  The opening bid was 1.9 million.  I was astounded, particularly after the auctioneer said that a similar, if a little smaller, property went for 1.5 million.  The bidding continued until a young Chinese man bought it for 2.61 million.  OMG.  (Why are Chinese so rich?)  Just imagine if my old house and property were transferred here.  What a bastard.  It certainly is about location.  I bought in a cheap area and didn’t make much of a profit on it, considering all property had gone up in that time – still in the same position of not being able to buy a decent property, and now not at all.  I envy people on two incomes.  What I don’t like about renting is having to seek permission for everything, and inspections, making you feel constantly monitored like you’re some dirty retard who doesn’t know how to keep house.  Understandable, of course. Some renters are dirty retards.  As usual the fuckwits ruin things for responsible people.

All for now.

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Week 2

Week 2 of work and it’s all going well.  During week one we had a tour of the parliament.  This week we went along during question time.  Politicians are the same the world over.  They must get special training on how not to answer the question, how to repeat themselves and blame the other party, how to shout at each other.  Really pathetic.  What a waste of time and money they are.

There was a conference on during the week.  I had been to it two years ago.  However, if I’d stayed in my old job I wouldn’t have been able to go.  I was told I wouldn’t be.  (“Fuck you” I thought at the time.)  How sweet then to turn up and say hello (invisibly raising my fist).  Boss let R and me have half a day each at the conference.  I was just about to eat a mouthful of lunch when Jn and Jl saw me and came up.  They said I looked well and asked how everything was going.  Jn seemed particularly disappointed that I had no regrets and appeared happy.  Ha ha.  Saw M later and then old boss, Ja.  She also said I looked well and asked if I was sick of the work yet.  What a question.  It was the sort of work I was doing less of in my old job and I actually preferred it to the other stuff.  Was nice also to see T, who I hadn’t known was going and she did say it was last minute.  Didn’t get enough time with her but had more time to chat to M.  Chatted to several nice people.  Lots of NZers there.  One said she felt inspired by my move, which was a nice change to “you’re brave”.

Sometimes it gets a little chilly with the aircon in the office, so it’s a delight to walk outside at lunchtime and feel the warmth and be amazed, once again, at where I was.  It always brings a smile to my face.  Even arriving in the morning from the train, I come out into sunshine, often buskers playing lovely music, and feel happy, even smiling at a child who was squealing with delight in her pushchair as it wove through a sea of legs coming towards her.  Apart from some loneliness (which I felt anyway in NZ), I’m much happier.  I won’t be able to buy a house again let alone be mortgage-free, but life isn’t about owning stuff.

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Talking of which, I went with C yesterday to view a house she and W were interested in.  It was a lovely house with lots of space but C said she felt it was too much.  I agreed.  She doesn’t want to end up like her father, up to his eyeballs in debt.  We went to another, smaller place, a townhouse.  I didn’t like it much.  It didn’t feel homely, with its polished concrete floors and large lobby space.  C seemed to like it and said that W would too (he was currently in NZ on business).  Funny what appeals to each of us.

Time to do some housework.

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