Messy Nessy

Hello again! I have finally madeit back to another Friday Reflections link up. I'm sure you've been beside yourselves missing me. What's that? You hadn't noticed I was gone? How rude. Sniff. Oh well, I'm back, anyway. I did expect trumpets, streamers and exclamations of joy to mark this momentous occasion. But you're right. A quiet and graceful return to the fold is much classier. Though I can't help thinkng, couldn't you even manage just ONE balloon? Some people.

Enough about that. Let's get on with it.

The prompt I have chosen is this:

 Are you messy or neat? What about your family/people you share your house with? Does it work well?

Here goes...

Have you ever looked around at your surroundings, the place you call home, your sanctuary, your precious abode and beamed with satisfaction and pride? Have you surveyed the gleaming surfaces and pristine rooms while a surge of sheer euphoria engulfed you at the blissful state of Konmari perfection you have created? Yes?

HMPH. Well, good for you. I'm sorry to say, I'm not sure we'd get along. For I am your worst nightmare.

There is no doubt about it. I'm a messy little minx.You can call me Messy Nessy if you want. I've been called worse things.

It's not that I don't TRY. Honestly, I do. No, TRULY!  Sometimes I try SO HARD. And the harder I try the more ridiculous it is.

It's a funny thing about me. Like a lot of things. I seem to be all or nothing. Either I am going batshit crazy and cleaning ALL THE THINGS like a possessed person, or I literally have less than zero interest. It's like trying to motivate myself to dress in a chicken suit and run down the street singing bah bah black  sheep at the tops of my lungs. The idea is absurd, repugnant and I just CAN'T EVEN.

Luckily, Mickey Blue Eyes and I are similar. We're both fairly messy and disorganised. Although, to be fair, he does do all the clothes washing. He washes and hangs it out it, while I have the unenviable task of folding and putting away. This seems to work for us. And we take turns doing the dishes by hand because we don't have a dishwasher. I know! What are we like?

Meanwhile, the boys are fairly typical of most teens/kids. Cleaning is not high on their list of priorities, but they will do it if we insist upon it. The only thing is, I have to admit I struggle to teach them to be something that I am not. How do you teach another person to be neat, tidy and well organised if you're not any of those things yourself? It's a tough one for me.

As I've mentioned before, I struggle with executive functioning due to my ASD. I have this weird dichotomy where my actual preference is for order and cleanliness but I am ABSOLUTELY HOPELESS at being the person who can create it. It's super frustrating and depressing at times. Sigh.

I've tried various techniques. Lists, online sites or apps such as Evernote and Todoist and read a tonne of books. I even attended a de-cluttering workshop which I talked about here.

For the record, I'm not a hoarder. My house doesn't resemble something off an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive (books don't count!). Tables and lounges can be used for what they are intended for and there is no climbing over things. However, it's just not as neat and tidy as I would like. Sigh.

 After attending the above workshop, I did come to the conclusion that I'm doing reasonably okay for someone who has ASD (officially diagnosed) and ADD (self-diagnosed). So I guess I've kinda sorta made my peace with it. But not really. It does upset me. I often wish I was one of those organised, meticulous people who have towels that match and spotless white furniture and fittings.

It's just not going to happen. Sorry, Mickey Blue Eyes! Sorry, Mum!

On the plus side, there is indisputable evidence that messy people are, in fact, geniuses.
Articles on the internet are concrete evidence, right?As Einstein was alleged to have stated: If a cluttered desk a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?

So there you have it. I'm a messy monster and not a neat freak. Messy Nessy. But I'm also a GENIUS. Though why a genius can't figure out stuff that is basically menial tasks is curious...

HMPH. Details!

Right, I'm off to be all genius-like and, erm...make mess. Or something.

What about you?

Are you a genius/messy monster or a neat freak? 

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Stuff I Do When I Should Do Something Else

Every day I have a to-do list. Well, most days. Okay, some days. Look, I actually prefer the idea of a ta-da list. 

I've mentioned before that I'm very easily distracted. In addition to this helpful trait, I'm also a daydreamer. An off with the pixies space cadet. This means that my lovely little to-do list can be found languishing and lonely while I'm otherwise preoccupied.

The things I do most often when I'm meant to be doing something else:

• Scroll through Facebook and observe everyone's bright shiny happy highlight reels. No, I'm not jealous AT ALL. Sniff.  
• Reading. Books, books books and MORE BOOKS. So many books, not enough time! 
• Daydreaming (see above).
• Writing or blogging (I do add these things to my to-do list, but for some reason I still feel guilty and like I should be something else that is housework related.) Sigh. 
• Pole Dancing. It's a passion of mine. In my daydreams. Again - see above. 
• Watching TV. I don't have Netflix, and I'm not a reality show fan. But lately I've found myself watching programmes about murderers. Or, true crime documentaries. I blame Mickey Blue Eyes. He got me started on this stuff. There is something totally icky about these programmes. I don't feel like any of these psychopaths should be given any air time. We should remember and honour the victims. Yet I still find myself watching them when I should definitely be doing something else. I know, I hate myself.
•  Over-thinking. Ruminating. Pondering. Mulling things over.  
•  Obsessing over Karen Carpenter by watching Youtube videos for HOURS. But she was SO CUTE. And talented. 
• Hang gliding. 
• Taking a nanna nap. This would appear to confirm that I did indeed make the previous point up. Shut up, I had to make this list interesting somehow! 
• Making cups of tea.
• Drinking cups of tea. Once made, they must be drunk. Drank? I should learn proper grammar one of these days... Snorts. 

Well, that was a comprehensive list. I could go on, but it all boils down to what my mother would call 'fiddle fart arseing around'. I'm a fiddle fart arser extraordinaire. It's a gift, people.

Without a doubt, good old Facebook is the biggest time waster for me. I don't even play Candy crush or Farmville, or any of those games, but I can still manage to spend ages scrolling away. Apparently I'm gifted. Or something. Besides, fiddle fart arseing around on Facebook has a certain ring to it. Doesn't it? 

It's a weird and wonderful thing, this here social media, don't you think? At the click of the mouse you can connect with like minded people, access information and endless entertainment. There are so many advantages. But if you're like me, you also need to remind yourself to pull back a bit and engage in the real world. 

Others would argue that the online world IS just as real and valid these days. And I suppose it is, but there needs to be a balance. for some one like me who finds it difficult to switch attention between tasks, it can certainly be problematic.

One strategy would be to set the timer on my phone as a reminder. That way I can limit myself to fifteen or twenty minutes and stop and do something else for a set time as well. I have been implementing this as a strategy. Sort of. Kind of. Sometimes. When I remember. Yes, I am a very bad person. 

Oh, well. I had better stop fiddle fart arseing around. (And, you know, saying 'fiddle fart arseing around...').  I'm sure there's something else I'm supposed to be doing right now. I had better go and do it. If only I could remember what it was...

Linking up for Friday Reflections. 

What's the thing you do most often when you're meant to be doing something else? 

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Horror Scopes

Hello there! It's the weekend again, lovely people. Now, make yourself comfortable, sit down with a glass of wine, and let's talk about horror scopes. Erm... I mean... horoscopes. 

Do you read yours? I must confess, I do not. This may come as no surprise, but I'm quite the cynical old soul in regards to such frivolities.  However, I figured why not? Let's have a look into this nonsense, shall we? At any rate, I can't think of anything else to write, and I've had a scotch or two, so this should be interesting... 

Yep. I am a Greedy Emo. 

I made my way into this mad old world on January 15th of 1971. According to astrology this makes me a Capricorn. And a Greedy Emo. See above.

It is an indisputable FACT that all Capricorns are dazzlingly clever and divinely beautiful. Okay, I may have made that up. (Or stolen it from LM Montgomery...). There was no need for the word 'may' in that sentence... But aren't all horoscopes fiction? So why can't I invent whatever it is that I want? HMPH.

Anyway, I just did a bit of the old googling and this is my horoscope for yesterday:

It's a good time to build up your self-esteem in terms of expressing yourself. Deep down inside, you're a very creative person, and today is a good day to let that show. Get involved in planning or cooking a meal, and volunteer to set the table. You can arrange the settings in a unique way -- let yourself do something that strikes people as downright odd. It's all part of encouraging yourself to take chances and express your natural talents.

Indeed, I have been cooking a lot lately, as well as setting the table in my own unique way. This involves flinging mismatching crockery and cutlery at the table in a most random fashion. Food follows likewise, because by the time I get to this point of the proceedings I am completely over it all and don't care anymore, so they can eat it or starve. 

But back to me being a Capricorn. 

According to Google, Capricorn personality traits are as follows:

Capricorn Traits : The Capricorn-born people are the most determined of the entire Zodiac. The most prominent qualities of the Goats, as they are called, are that they are ambitious, conservative, determined, practical and helpful.

Bwahahahahahahaha! NO.

How I fervently wish that the above was true for me! I am not at all determined or ambitious. I suppose I'm conservative, with a teensy little subversive streak that makes a guest appearance now and again. Like when I write rambling blog posts while I'm tipsy (or stone cold sober...). Living on the edge! 

Additionally, us goats are reputed to be quite stubborn. I've never thought of myself as stubborn. However, I don't cope with change whatsoever, so I'm wondering if that is, in fact, a form of stubbornness? What say you? 

Meanwhile, I just read the following passage and it certainly does resonate: 

Capricorn women typically enjoy people though they are often thoughtful, self-contained and shy. Their quiet exterior can make them appear to be loners, often building a wall of reserve around themselves. They are very loyal to those they care for, but often cold to those outside of their circle of friends and family. They are often highly cautious and analytical when making new friends.

CONCLUSION

My initial thoughts were that I am NOTHING like a Capricorn. However, after my drunken online reading, some of it does resonate. I reckon it's all open to interpretation and you can read whatever you want into it. I'd still never take horror scopes too seriously, but they're quite fun some of the time. Or maybe that's the scotch talking... You be the judge.

And now a final look at all of our horror scopes for the for the future...

I think that sums it up. 

What do you think? What star sign are you? Does it reflect your personality? Or do you think it's all a load of bollocks? 

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Page Twenty-Seven

Hello again, lovelies! I'm back to moan about the weather. At least I am consistent with SOME things. Related: I am totally over this piss rain/become humid rinse/repeat thing.  That is what is happening in Sydney, anyway. I long for warm autumn days with crisp evenings... 

Well, I am glad I got that little whinge over with. As expected, it didn't change a thing. Funny about that. This would seem to confirm that there is simply no point or purpose in complaining about things you cannot control nor change. This won't stop me from doing it again, I expect. Like I said, consistency is key!

While I am here, I may as well join in for Friday Reflections. At any rate, it will stop me from whinging. 

This week I have decided to go with the prompt: 

• Pick up the book you are currently reading, go to page 27 and write a post starting with the first line on that page.

Okay, if you insist. 

Dutifully, I pick up a book I have already read and am re-reading. It's a non-fiction book called Use Your Words: A Myth-Busting No-Fear Approach To Writing by Catherine Deveny. 

Upon flipping over to page 27, I discover these words:

After a quote attributed to Dorothy Parker:  "I hate writing. I love having written". 

Then, the first complete sentence is this: 

I tell my Gunnas: 90% of writing never sees the light of day. But 100% of writing makes the writer feel better for having written it. 

Oh, how I love this sentence! In fact, I really love this book. This is coming not long after I had written a post proclaiming that I didn't think books about writing were helpful.  I've changed my mind after reading this book. It's tremendously helpful. I recommend it, especially if you are feeling stuck about writing in any way. 

I definitely relate to the above sentence.  You see, this is really the main reason why I write and have a blog. It just makes me feel better. I liken it to exercise. I'm actually inclined to be rather lazy, easily distracted and a procrastinator. Not very palatable to admit, but there it is. The truth hurts. OUCH.

There is never any day when I wake up bursting with inspiration and/or motivation to either a) exercise, or b) write. But boy, when I make myself do these things, do I feel better. SO much better. So, if nothing ever comes of my word vomit, and nothing ever has, it's worth it just for that. 

By the way, Catherine Deveny runs a writing master class which she calls "Gunnas", so that's what she is referring to. 

She also notes elsewhere in the book that there is no forced sharing in these groups. The reason behind this: it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of your writing. It doesn't even matter what YOU think of your writing, the only thing that matters is that you write. Genius! 

I expect writing makes me feel better because I can express myself better through writing, not talking. For some one who has considerable anxiety, it's a calming activity. Scribbling or tapping away is comforting for me. Furthermore, it's something  I can do with my hands besides shoving food into my mouth. Ahem. It also allows me to connect with others in a way that I'm unable to do in person. I'm introverted, shy and autistic, so people skills are not my forte. 

Often, if I'm over thinking, the very act of 'writing it out' and brain dumping helps tremendously. I don't necessarily need to share it. I have so many notebooks scattered everywhere about the house. They would make for very tedious reading if anyone got a hold of them. However, notebooks are so much cheaper than therapists!  So I'll call that a win. 

And with this bloody weather, what else can one do? Whoops! I'm whinging about the weather AGAIN. Time for me to go and do some more scribbling I need never share! Over and out. 

Do you agree? Do you think most writing isn't shared, but still makes the writer feel better?

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Nessville Turns Five!

Hello, beautiful people. Yes, you. You are most certainly beautiful. How do I know? I'm psychic. Or is it psycho...?

Anyway, I'm glad you're here.  If you're a regular, thank you! If you're new, welcome!

Today. I would like to examine the reasons for my blog and it's title.

This should be interesting. Or deadly dull. You decide. 

Still here? Good!  I knew you'd find it fascinating. Okay, on with the show.

This topic/prompt is quite timely. You see, it has come to my attention that I began this blog approximately five years ago in March of 2012.  Yes, it's been that long! I can't believe it either.

So, I guess I should actually celebrate a five year blogaversary? Why not?! Okay, cakies all round! Streamers, balloons and trumpets and unicorns and fairy dust and...

And, just me. In my own little world...

As usual.

That's what this place is about. All of the above. Unicorns and all. It's my own little world, so I can make it whatever I want. Sniff. 

It does seem odd to keep talking to myself here for five years. But the thing is, I'm NOT a talker. So I tap away and fling a few words and thoughts at the internet. A small  number of people read them and I still get to pretend I'm in my own little world, instead of writing and posting things publicly for potentially anyone to see. I'm weird and slightly delusional. A woman of illogical contradictions intriguing dichotomies, I think you will find.

I've discussed why I started this blog before.  Additionally, there was a post about the whole saga behind Nessville. You may pop over and read them if you like. I'll wait until you come back. Or, just give it a miss. I don't mind. 

Either way, you still get CAKE.

Well, a picture of a cake. Same thing, isn't it?  

At this point, I would just like to be all mushy for a moment and thank each and every one of you dear readers. Thank you for taking the time to have a bit of a squiz* at my ramblings. I do waffle on so, never providing anything useful other than a teensy bit of amusement (I hope), so I appreciate it. And I'm not even going to make any jokes about there only being one of you... There's at least two. DOH.

Self-deprecation is my default setting. Ever so sorry! I am trying to being less so. After 46 years, it's uphill work to retrain oneself. But it must be done. Slowly. I'm sure I'll be bursting with confidence by the time my 10th blogaversary rocks around... So make sure you stay with me to find out! 

Meanwhile,  in addition to cake, wine sounds good. So cheers!

* 'Squiz' is Australian for 'having a look'. Makes perfect sense, right...

Linking up for Friday Reflections with the prompt:


 The reason behind your blog and its name.


What are the reasons behind your blog (if you have one)? 

What milestones are you celebrating? 

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Strengths Of A Woman

Have you ever taken the VIA  Character Strength survey? It's a lovely little exercise in self-absorption self-awareness. You do a fifteen minute quiz and then you receive your list of personality traits. Here's mine and why they could be considered strengths. Or not...

1. Forgiveness.

I am a forgiving creature. If you say you don't even like the Carpenters, I'll forgive you.  After all, it's not your fault. We can't all have exquisite taste. Besides, I think holding grudges is a waste of energy. Forgiveness helps me in life, because I avoid wasting energy thinking over things. Especially because I do tend to be an over thinker! 


2. Humility.

Humility is a strength because I'm not vain or full of myself. Sometimes, however, it feels like I can take this a bit too far. For example, I am terrible at self-promotion. That would explain why this blog has lain languishing in the far corners of the internet for approximately five years... Look, I'm sure there's a strength there somewhere. I'll let you know, when I figure out what it is...

3. Honesty.

This speaks for itself. Honesty is a strength because I have strong sense of what is right or wrong and I live my life in line with those values. Consequently, I have never been arrested. I tend to view this as a positive thing in life . I'm funny like that. Well, there was that one time when I accidentally forgot to pay for an avocado in Coles and I didn't go back... But this was back when smashed avo wasn't such a thing and they weren't really expensive... And I swear I'm a good person! HONEST. 

4. Prudence.

Apparently I'm a prim and proper Pollyanna type. I'm surprised by this because I thought of myself as a rebel and risk taker. Cutting edge and all. I mean, sometimes I even have TWO cups of coffee in a day! That's daring. Isn't it? On the plus side, at least I don't do or say things I regret later. Unless they involve cake... 

5. Love.

Well yes, I do love cake. Cake Love is everything. Valuing and loving my family is a strength, because basically I've got nothing else to offer them. Not a thing. I'm like a puppy.Cute to have around, eats a lot, but is utterly useless. But even if I suck at everything on a practical level, my boys know that I love them. That's the most important thing. I think. I hope. Of course it is! HMPH. 

6. Fairness.

It probably doesn't feel very fair at the moment that I am making you read this. But I do try to be entertaining. And fair. Always. I like to play fair. It's just the way I am and I'm proud of it because I treat everyone the same and am not judgey at all, even I'm supposed to be prim (see no 4. Prudence. What's that about...?)

7. Judgement.

I am not judging you. If you're sitting there in your PJ'S at midday, eating your body weight in cheese/chocolate/chips... Who am I to judge? Ahem.  

8.  Love Of Learning.

I'm learning about myself and life all the time. Just when I think I have a few things figured out, something perplexes me again and I'm back where I started. But I never give up.  That, in itself, has to be a strength. Doesn't it?

9. Kindness.

How could anybody think this is not a strength? I certainly sleep better at night because of this trait. I'll call that a win. 

10.  Humour.

Humour is essential and a strength because it allows me to see the lighter side of the most ridiculous and challenging things. And let's face it who wouldn't laugh at my Kath n' Kim 'fro'. It's noice. Unyewwwsual.

11. Gratitude.

I am grateful for all the small blessings in my life. Not just cake! 

12. Appreciation Of Beauty & Excellence

Being able to appreciate books and music has definitely been a strength and comfort in my life! 

13. Leadership.

Not surprisingly, this trait comes in at 13. I am a quiet soul.  These days us introverted souls can still lead in our own quiet ways. Don't laugh. If I choose not to, that's my prerogative. Shut up. 

14. Hope.

I was hoping I could think of something to say about this. Nope. Nothing. But I never give up hope. See? 

15. Perseverance.

This one is a little dispiriting. To see it so low down the list. In part I believe it's because I'm easily distracted. This prevents me from getting tasks done. However, I'm improving. Sort of. In increments. Okay, it's a two steps forward, three steps back kind of thing, but I never give up. See? I have perseverance! 

16. Perspective.

I change my perspective and get confused about what I believe easily.  I don't really know what to say about this. At least I am flexible about changing and understanding new information. Yep, definitely a strength. 

17. Teamwork.

I would like to say I'm a team player,but actually I hate people. So, no. Just no. 

Okay, hate is a strong word. I just don't understand them. Especially myself.   But I think we've established the fact that I'm actually some sort of creature from the planet Zorg. 

18. Creativity. 

To be honest, I've only just truly understood what creativity really IS in the last few months. To my chagrin, I am not as creative as I'd like to be, but again, I am changing. One of these days, I'll be a creative genius. See my hope and perseverance? 

19. Zest.

Yes, well. What can I say about this? I do feel full of zest quite often. Unfortunately it's the zest of a sloth creature on Valium. No surprises, that this trait features so low on my list. Having admitted to this, many ASD folk speak of something called Autistic 'inertia'.
I am going with that. Explains a lot. 

20. Curiosity.

I am a bit odd here. I don't seem to have much interest or curiosity about things the way others do. Again, I think it's something to do with ASD. We're supposed to have rigid and narrow interests. If I really think about it, there are things that interest me, they're just different than others. It's all good. 

21. Spirituality.

Apparently this relates to having coherent believes about the higher purpose and meaning of the universe. Yeah, got nothing. If anyone has any answers I'm all ears. 

22. Bravery.

Apparently I'm a spineless, scaredy-cat wuss. If anyone needs me I'll be shaking and cowering in the corner. 

23. Social intelligence.

Yeah, I think we've covered the fact that I really don't get people. That is all. 

24. Self-Regulation. 

Well, this is not exactly a shock. Self-regulation comes in at the very end for me. Considering my passion for all things cake like, it's sadly true. It's an area with which I struggle. Sigh.

I must admit, this exercise is a bit dispiriting and I do wish I could shuffle some of these traits around.  However, I guess a forgiving, humble, kind, non-judging, fair-minded Pollyanna with a love of learning and a sense of humour isn't so bad. After all, it's all a matter of perspective! 

Joining in for Friday Reflections with the prompt:

• Take the VIA Character Strength Survey and talk about your strengths and how it might help you in life.

What character traits do you consider to be strengths? 

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Imagination

With my imagination I can behold
Mysteries, stories, tales to be told

Search through the archives of my mind
Ask probing questions, transcend time

I'm sitting, just staring, so it would seem
Dreaming things that make my eyes gleam

Thinking up magical words to create
Making up characters, deciding their fate

Lost in the wonder of words I discover
Finding a rhythm, then writing another

Sitting in bed, pen in my hand
Come to me now, dear words, I command

When I have written, I like how I feel
Something shifts and inside I heal

In a quiet corner where my books all reside
Another notebook, words jumbled, I've tried

With a laptop and imagination, I tap away
Contented and happy in this simple way

Flying away in both heart and mind
Along with the wind, to see what I'll find

Past houses, trees and curious people
A windswept beach, a sombre church steeple

Thinking of questions, pondering answers
Daring to dream, take further chances 

To ancient lands of haughty queens and kings,
Creatures and serpents and sinister things

Grotesque visions that make your heart lurch
Yes, imagination is the highest research!

Outside the window, the rain starts to fall
I'm lost to my imagination's beckoning call

I weave my words, unaware of the time
Oblivious to the washing, now wet on the line!

Suddenly I see my dear Mickey Blue Eyes
Who looks out, aghast, and hastily cries

"Didn't you hear it?"I give a sheepish no.
 It's hard to believe I didn't, I know.

I said it before, but one more time...
Imagination is the place you will find

The research for all the things you ponder
True glory and hope, visions of wonder

Of course imagination is the highest research
It's always a blessing, but sometimes a curse!

Abruptly I have to crash back to Earth,
Be present and focused to prove my worth

So I must explain, I often feel misunderstood
I'm a wistful dreamer whose intentions are good

Although imagination does take me away
It's how I express the things I can't say

It's not laziness that you think you see
This is the magic of imagination for me

I'm sitting, just staring, so it would seem
Dreaming of things that make my eyes gleam

With my imagination I can behold
Mysteries, stories, tales to be told...



Linking up for Friday Reflections with a poem that is inspired by the following two prompts: 


 “Imagination is the highest form of research” – Albert Einstein. Use this quote in your post or as an inspiration for one.

 What’s the one thing you wish others understood about you


Do you think imagination is the highest form of research?

What's the one thing you wish others understood about you? 

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Letter To A Kindred Spirit

Dear Anne,

You don't know me, but I believe if we'd met we would most definitely be kindred spirits. Maybe I wouldn't take the place of Diana as your 'bosum' friend, but I would be a close second. 

I am shy and silent just like your beloved Matthew. You could chatter to your heart's content and I wouldn't mind. 

Like you, I also had red hair as a girl. Unlike you, I wasn't particularly bothered by it. In fact, I felt proud to have something in common with my favourite heroine. I wore a blue dress with puffed sleeves to my year six farewell. I agree. Puffs are MAGNIFICENT. 

I can imagine us together. You would show me all your favourite haunts. The White Way Of Delight, and the Lake Of Shining waters. I think I'll pass on The Haunted Wood, however. My imagination is quite vivid too, you see. 

I would have been a prolific member of your Story Club, Anne. I too, wrote such melodramatic stories as a child. They are hilarious in hindsight, just like your stories: The Jealous Rival and In Death Not Divided. And Rosamund Montmorency is a splendid pen name! What do you think mine would have been, Anne? I'm thinking something like Lavinia De Lovely.  Or, with your permission, I could be Cordelia De Lovely. Yes, Cordelia IS a perfectly elegant name. You are quite correct about that. 

Mind you, I believe Anne is also an elegant name.  And yes, it should be spelled with an E. Remember how when you asked Marilla to be sure to spell it with and E and you said: "Whenever you hear a name pronounced, can't you always see it in your mind, just as if it was printed out?" 

I had such a thrill of recognition when I read that! I do the very same thing! In fact, I often see entire sentences in my mind as if they were printed out. It's odd, but I'm glad I have something else in common with you, Anne. This seems to confirm to me that we are indeed kindred spirits. 

I must confess, I would have been a little jealous of Gilbert's devotion to you, Anne. I definitely have a crush on him! But he would only ever have eyes for you, so you needn't worry about that. I am not a horrible flirt, show off or nasty gossip like Josie Pye! I would dance at yours and Gilbert's wedding, and toast you with currant wine. Being careful not to get drunk like Diana did! 

And when you went off to Queens and Kingsport Ladies College and then to live in Glen St. Mary, I would have been a faithful pen pal. Letter writing is something I've always enjoyed. I do wish that I could be much more determined, like you, Anne. But I'm getting better.

As Miss Stacey said: tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it.  That is always such a comforting thought. Until tomorrow comes and I make the same mistakes all over again. You know, just to be sure! 

There have been many times when I've felt like I'm 'in the depths of despair' as you put it, but you have always been there to comfort me.  Even though I know you're fictional, you'll always be my friend and a true kindred spirit. After all, that's what an imagination is for, right? So thanks, Anne. I look forward to the next 'bend in the road'.  

I will remain yours faithfully,

Ness. 

Joining in for Friday Reflections with the prompt:

Write a letter to a fictional character.

Which fictional character would you write to?

Are you an Anne Of Green Gables fan? 

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Being Grateful

Over the years I've tried on and off to have a gratitude journal. This is the simple act of writing down the things you're most grateful for each day. Apparently there is research to show that this process is effective in helping with things like depression and increasing contentment. I tend to be a bit cynical about these things (surprise!). I will concede that it's a much better option than reaching for the cake every time you feel crappy. That has worked out really well for me. NOT.  

The problem I have with gratitude journals? It gets a bit boring to write the same things every day. OF COURSE I am grateful for my health - now more than ever, having had cancer. OF COURSE I am grateful for my family. I'm also grateful to have some time to myself away from my family now and again (but you're not supposed to admit that?).

During my cancer treatment, I began the concept of a 'happiness jar'. Except I used a shoe box, because I like to be different. The idea is, you write down anything that made you happy that day, any memorable moment no matter how mundane or seemingly insignificant. Then you pop it in the jar. At a later date you can read them and realise there were happy moments among the shittyness. 

I haven't added anything to my happiness box or written a gratitude journal in quite a while.

 And while I'm still somewhat sceptical about the practise on a daily basis, it doesn't hurt to revisit it once in a while and remind yourself that you have plenty of positive things to be grateful for. So, here's my A-Z of things I'm currently grateful for. 

The things I am currently grateful for:


A - Apples, Avocados, Ass burgers diagnonsense, Air conditioning, Australia: I'm grateful I was born and live here; even if it has been like the seventh circle of hell lately!

B - Boys, Books, Blogging, Brain (I think I have one)

C - Cakies, Carpenters music, Creativity, Cuddles

D - Daydreams

E - Exercise, Eating (everything always comes back to food with me...)

F - Friendships ( online and real life ), Family

G - Green (one of my favourite colours)

H - Home, Health

I = Imagination, Igloo (well, I WOULD be grateful if I had one...it's bloody hot here!)

J - Juices, Joy, Jogging (Just kidding, I never jog!)

K - Karen! (Carpenter, of course! )

L - Love ( I am loved and I love my family )

M - Micky Blue Eyes, Music

N - Notebooks

O - Online world

P - Pens, People I love

Q - Quiet time!

R - Reading, Resilience

S- Silence, Stories, Songs

T - TV, Therapy, TITS ( this is what I call my ipod, plus I AM glad I got to keep my tits on after having breast cancer)

U - Unicorns? ( Okay, I'm stuggling, now!)

V- Vanessa being my name,

W - Words, Writing, Water

X - X - rays (since a mammogram saved my life)

Y -  (New) Year

Z - I'm grateful I've reached z so I'm finished!!


There you have it. An A-Z of gratitude.

I just realised yet another reason why I'm uncomfortable with the procedure. I always feel like I'm missing the point and there is some big, important thing that I should be grateful for and I'm such a self-absorbed arsehole  to only think of food! 

Oh well! Oops. 

What are your thoughts about gratitude journals? 

What are you most grateful for? 

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Scary Things

Hello again! If you are currently in the land of Oz, I do hope you haven't drowned in a pool of your own sweat.  Lordy, it's HOT. Horrendous, really. Phew!

Anyway, pop on the air con on, pour yourself a cool beverage and enjoy a lovely little story I wrote for #FridayReflections. 

Alternatively, if you're in another part of the world, where it's frosty and cool, snuggle up with a cosy blanket and a hot beverage. Also: I hate you. Don't take it personally.

But onto the story...

It was inspired by the following prompt:

Do one thing every day that scares you. 

SOMETHING ABOUT FERN

Ever since she could remember Fern had been frightened. Of the dark. Of dogs. Of her brittle, distant parents. The bullies at school. What people would think.

Even the telephone! It's rings could send her into abject horror. Then she'd seen it. The free course at the community centre seemed like it was invented for her: Overcoming Fear and Becoming Confident.

Unleash your inner potential with proven steps to success, the blurb assured her. The irony that she'd had to confront her fear of groups to turn up to a group about overcoming fear wasn't lost on her.  

"Do one thing every day that scares you," the instructor told them. She was a tall, charismatic woman with a sharp highlighted bob and booming voice. The kind of woman who appeared to have never been frightened in her life. Her name was Donna Savage.

Fern supposed you could never fear anything with such a name. If anyone ridiculed Donna Savage, she could certainly live up to her name with one look. Her eyes were laser sharp and piercing. Even a wallflower like Fern couldn't fade into the background. That was her usual way in groups. 

Now she had do scary things each day for a week or risk the disappointment of that probing gaze. Yesterday, she'd sent her coffee back when it was too weak. The day before she'd approached the neighbour who always parked across her driveway. 

Now, she was meeting Brian. An online date. Well, just a coffee to start with. She was nervous, but he'd seemed nice enough during their online chats. He'd told her he loved her name. After years of being bullied by all the Jennys and Amandas, it was refreshing.  A portly, balding man with glasses entered the cafe. Fern dismissed him. 

"Fern!" the balding man beamed at her. 

She blinked. "Brian?" He must have used a rather old profile picture. She'd been catfished. 

"Lovely to meet you!" Brian leaned in, going straight for her lips. She turned her cheek at the same time and they knocked faces awkwardly. 

"Can I get you a coffee?" 

He ordered their cappuccinos. They sat facing each other with only the sound of the coffee machine and the quiet murmuring of other customers to break the silence. 

"So tell me..."

"Have you been here before?"

They suddenly spoke at once. This seemed to open the tides for Brian and he was off and running. In no time at all she knew his whole life story, including rather more than she would like about his ex-wife and his interest in aquariums. He didn't seem curious to know anything about her. 

When he finally asked her if she would like to come back to his place to 'see his aquariums' she politely declined. Mustering up her courage, she added "It was lovely to meet you, but I don't think this is going to work."

Brian looked momentarily flummoxed. His confusion soon turned to contempt. "Typical," he muttered. 

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You women are all the same. Only after money." 

Fern took a deep breath. "I earn my own money, Brian. I just don't think we have anything in common." 

But Brian was already looking at his phone. 

"Doesn't matter. You were only my third choice, anyway." 

Fern left him scrolling away for his next victim. Imagine this odious man ranking women! But at least she'd done her scary thing for the day. 

Donna had promised them that each day it would be less scary. Fern wasn't so sure. You just did the thing, feeling petrified all the while. And the next time was no different. There was no such thing as conquering all your fears, Fern concluded. She knew this, because the next day she went to a completely sickening dentist appointment she'd been avoiding for months. She lay back in the chair, rigid with tension. 

"Try to relax," the dentist instructed. It was only the fact that she had her gaping jaw locked as he examined her that stopped her from guffawing in derision. 

After the appointment, she treated herself to a new book, feeling triumphant. Until she remembered tomorrow's task. 

The next day, she picked up the phone and pressed the number with trembling fingers. The answering machine clicked on. Her mother's monotone delivered a laborious instruction to leave a message after the beep. Fern knew she was home. Her parents always screened calls.

"Hello Mum, it's me," she breathed. "Please pick up."

There was a clunk and a gruff greeting. 

"What's up?" her mother never had time for pleasantries. It occurred to Fern that maybe she hated the phone more than she did. 

"I just rang to tell you that I won't be able to come home for Christmas lunch. Some friends from work invited me to their place." 

For the next fifteen minutes Fern was treated to an explosive diatribe about how utterly selfish and worthless she was. Finally, she announced: "I'm hanging up now!" She slammed the phone down with her mother still ranting at her. She guessed she wouldn't be hearing from her parents for a very long time. This made her equal parts sad and relieved. 

At the next meeting she proudly related her achievements to Donna Savage. The group had dwindled to only a half dozen or so of them now. 

"Excellent!" Donna congratulated them, after they'd all spoken. "I think you are all ready to go the next level." 
Her eyes gleamed as she started a PowerPoint presentation. 

By the time it finished, Fern's head was hurting. It was a ten minute testament to something called SOLUTIONS FOR SUCCESS - ULTIMATE CONFIDENCE!! A comprehensive programme, including two one to one sessions with Donna and a package of her books and instructional DVDs, all for the bargain price of - wait for it - 1,500 dollars! 

Fern was flabbergasted. "You never mentioned anything about these charges before," she squeaked. A few other participants seemed to be transfixed. They were under Donna Savage's spell. It was like she was some sort of Tony Robbins/Oprah/Deepak Chopra Svengali. They were ready to sign up. 

"It's all on my website and brochures," Donna replied "Didn't you read the fine print?"

Fern was speechless. Fine print? This was absurd! 

"The first five people to sign up receive a 30 percent discount!" Donna trilled, all smiles. Those enigmatic eyes were more piercing than ever. 

A few people started doing the sums. Fern felt a flash of something. What was it? Yes! It was anger! How dare this woman call herself a Life Coach, then try to exploit people's insecurities? 

She stood up, all five foot one of her bristling with indignation. She looked straight into those hypnotic, penetrating eyes. 

"YOU are nothing but a phoney and an opportunist!" her voice was shaky but loud. "This is outrageous! And I, for one, am not paying you a cent!" 

"Fine!" Donna snapped, her eyes suddenly cold and dangerous. "Maybe you're not ready. The offer is still available for anyone else!" 

The other attendees were gaping at Fern. She'd been the quietest one in the group until this point. Yet her outburst seemed to have an effect. 

"It does seem like a lot," one woman agreed.

"I'd have to discuss it with my husband," said another.

"I never saw any fine print!" huffed the only gentleman in the group.

"Come on, everyone," Fern decided to take charge. "Let's go!" They filed out in a disgruntled line as Donna barked after them.

"You'll be sorry! The offer expires on Monday!" 

They stood in the car park afterwards sharing their astonishment. Fern was amazed to discover that not only had an hour and a half passed, but evidently she'd made three new friends. They all agreed to meet for coffee again next week.

At home, she dumped her bag and flopped on the couch beside her cat, Archie. He meowed his disgust at her being so late. "I didn't do my scary thing today, Archie!" she told him. The she sat up. Of course she had! She thought of Donna Savage's churlish face and laughed and laughed. Archie just stared at her. Humans were so weird. 

THE END

Do you like to scare yourself?

Have you melted yet? 

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Waffles Are Delicious

Welcome to another fabulous Friday! I'm joining in again for Friday Reflections with a 20 minute free-write. In other words, the usual meandering musings you expect from me! Done. Here goes: 

Timer starts NOW: 

Friday seems like a good day to free write. Isn't it interesting how Fridays are always thought of a fun day. The end of the working week. FriYAY!

This means nothing when you're a parent. NOTHING, I tell you. 
The only Friday I remember clearly is the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer. That certainly wasn't a fun day. 

I am sitting here in blissful silence. The boys are at school and Mickey Blue Eyes has gone to visit his father. My timer is on to write for 20 minutes. Suddenly I feel under pressure to write something brilliant and witty.

It's the same feeling as being in a job interview. They say: So tell me about yourself. Me; forgets every single thing about myself and my life EVER.

Ditto in social situations when people ask; what have you been up to? 

What is it about being put on the spot that makes my mind go blank? When it's midnight and I should be asleep I seem to have no trouble at all thinking ALL THE THINGS. 

Anyway, even if nothing illuminating comes out of this experiment it's good to be back joining in again with Friday Reflections. One of the other prompts was to write about your favourite book about writing. I have read quite a few of them, but I don't have a favourite. 

What else has been happening in my world. I've been reading a lot. You know, just for something different. Tomorrow is February 4th. It usually does come after February 3rd. Funny about that. This means that it will be 34 years since Karen Carpenter passed away. 

It strikes me that when there were so many celebrity deaths during 2016 there was a tremendous outpouring of grief around the world. Somehow I feel like KC never was truly acknowledged the way she should have been.

I remember hearing the news when I was only just 12. It was the first time I'd heard of anorexia and I didn't really understand what it was. Bafflement was my main emotion. Tears came later. 

Sorry, I guess I have a one track mind and left without a prompt I'll go back to my favourite topic - Karen Carpenter!

At least I haven't mentioned cake! DOH.

Anyway, I'm sure the twenty minutes will be finished soon and you will be spared any more of my waffling. On the other hand, waffles are delicious...

Waffles are delicious! *drools*

I've been doing 'morning pages' most days, except I don't always do them in the morning because cutting edge and all, and I had the thought: Isn't it interesting how when fictional characters write journals or diaries in novels they're always filled with complex emotions, details and explosive secrets and I'm just over here like "I folded some washing today and went to the shops..."  I need to make up a sordid past or something. I'll have to think about that. 

Moreover, these (fictional) people seem to have the narrative ability of a gifted, accomplished author.  

Apparently I still have six minutes to go. Poor you.  What else can I tell you? 

I will mention some of those books I've read about writing and you'll be amazed that I can still manage such drivel:

Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg
The Right To Write by Julia Cameron
The Writing Book by Kate Grenville 
Stephen King: On Writing by Stephen King (Captain Obvious)

As I said before I don't have a favourite one.  I've come to realise that there is no book, course, app, guide, affirmation, magical thinking that can make you a writer. You either sit down and do it or you don't. And even then you may write and write, and only write something mediocre now and again. Or is that just me? Ahem.

I had a thought and lost it. It was something good, methinks. What was it again? 

Oh yes! I don't think reading books about writing make you a good writer, I think reading lots of different books is much more helpful. Just read, read, read, read, read, read. And when you're not reading, write. 

Advice from someone who is totally not qualified to give it! Oh well, it is the Internet. Everyone has advice and is an expert on something with no qualifications...  Why not me too? 

Fortunately my timer beeped. So endeth my waffle. 

I hope you had coffee with that. 

And there you have it. A 20 minute free-write on this fine Friday. 

I had better stick to my day job. Whatever that is...

Do you do any 'free-writing' or 'morning pages'?

Do you have a favourite book about writing? 

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