Searching for the Holy Grail

Lifelong happiness is a gift for so many, for me it’s the Holy Grail. Lifelong happiness exists, but I’ve never found it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments of happiness and many of them. What’s turning into the Holy Grail is holding on to it from moment to moment.

I know I’m not alone in this quest, it’s one in which most of the western world aspire to have and hold. Some may not think about it too often, unfortunately for me it’s a daily thought.

It’s out there, I’m sure of it. But I don’t have the time to find it. I’m stuck in the superficial world of ‘want’ – I must go to work because I want! Money can buy you a lovely home, nice clothes, great holidays and the latest car but I have learnt through my years of obtaining each of the wants, after obtaining them they aren’t what I need.

So where is happiness hiding? Is it around the corner? What corner?

Would I find it if I moved to the beach and opened a coffee shop? Which reminds me of an early blog “Is it just me?” Would I be happy if some of my lifelong ambitions came true? Maybe! Would I find it if I gave up work, stayed home and cleaned, spent time with the grand-kids? I know I would have more happy moments but I’m not sure they would blend into each other to make happiness lifelong.

So I guess I must concede that lifelong happiness is like searching for the Holy Grail. It’s a lifelong journey looking for something mythical and holding onto hope that one day you’ll actually find it.

5 slippery nipples please

I’ve just had a memorable night out with some great friends at the Retro Hotel in Sussex Street Sydney. The night started out with a pleasant ferry trip into the city with my good friend Gee. I knew it was going to be a good night because my sarcastic, potty-mouth humour was on fire. This night proved to me, that I might be getting old but I can still have a blast.

Gee who lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney was enthralled by the ferry trip as is most who see Sydney at its best – at night and from a boat – said she felt like she was in another country – which indicated to me that she needs to get out more.

I must add here that we started our trip into the city at 5.45pm. Yes folks it was pensioner hour so it doesn’t came as a surprise that this great night was going to end early.

When Gee and I arrived at Cockle Bay we met up with another friend Von and we headed straight to the Retro. I was surprised that at this early hour we were met at the door by large Maori man who wasn’t going to let us inside unless we had a booking, which we did. Once he was happy, he proceeded to stamp our wrist and let us through. It was at this time I realised how long it’s been since I’d been out to a night club – I’d forgotten about the stamp.

However, it did transport me back to the early 80s at the Lithgow Workies Club, which is a two bob joint in country NSW. I was also reminded of Lithgow when I asked the Retro barmaid for a Sauvignon Blanc and was told they only had Semillon Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay or a couple of reds which I wasn’t interested in drinking that night. On my last visit to Lithgow I asked the barmaid for a Sauvagine Blanc, she looked at me blankly and said we’ve only got white or red. I foolishly asked from what vineyard; this question was clearly lost on her. Not learning my lesson, a couple of hours later I asked the same barmaid for a Frangellico – obviously they haven’t heard of it in Lithgow.

Anyway back to the Retro, where I should add that the Retro caters for women’s hen nights; they offer a three course meal with a side of karaoke followed by dancing at either one of the two night clubs. I didn’t know beforehand they offered karaoke but Bel, another friend who’s mad keen on karaoke, couldn’t help but suggest this venue for the girl’s night out (plus one bloke).

Once we got past our big Maori friend a very drunk Irishman, who was with a group of his co-construction workers, asked which one of us were getting married. Now this question seems simple enough but let me set the scene – two of us are middle age and have been married twice, the other friend although early 30s had just recently separated from her husband, so needless to say we looked at him as if he was mad and set him straight about our circumstances of which he replied that he has also been married twice. Who’d a thought that this wonderful Irish man would have ever been sober enough to get married even once?

After a short time another five friends arrived and we headed downstairs to the restaurant – well technically it wasn’t a restaurant, it was more like a big room with approximately 6 long tables complete with balloon centrepieces and a big sign indicating who’s sitting where.

Only one of the tables had been occupied with what appeared to be around 30 women looking like they were attending a wake rather than a hen’s night. Once we sat down at our designated table we were off and running, our table was by far the one where ‘it’ was happening. By ‘it’ I mean from anyone else’s point of view, we were having a good time and our table was the place to be even though the average age of the bunch was 40. Proven again, we still know how to party!

On each table was a list of alcoholic shots with very crude names, including a Slippery Nipple, a Quick F*&k, a C*#k S#cking Cowboy and a Wet Pu##y. See what I mean when I say crude! It goes without saying that one middle-age pottymouth women, not naming any names, steered the night’s conversation well and truly into the gutter, setting the scene for the night ahead. But in my defence, I mean her defence, we laughed so hard I’m sure some of us wet our pants on several occasions – not that I did mind you.

I must mention here the only person to get up and partake in karaoke was Bel. I acted out the role an Idol judge who would make Simon Crowley come across as a good natured sole: “Get off – next!”

The night progressed, we got drunk and literally danced the night away. Fee, another friend, ensured the drinks kept flowing. She even served us up a round of Slippery Nipples, which tasted so damn good I got another round, but when I returned to the group, Fee had gone without a word to anyone. I’m sure she made it home, or to Oxford Street for more fun knowing her.

Obviously the cheap white wine and shots had a positive affect on me. As I’m not usually an outwardly friendly person to strangers, on this night I’m sure I had something nice to say to everyone that came within cooee. I’m also pretty sure I even dished out some non-smoking advice to a couple of nice Irish guys who had ducked outside for a fag. BTW Sydney must have to next biggest population of Irish than Dublin itself – which isn’t a bad thing – who can resist a sexy Irish accent.

As midnight approached and there was only 4 of us left, well actually only 3. Me, Gee and the bloke (Jas). The bloke’s missus (Sonia) was looking a bit shady and need to get home quick. With a quick dash out the door to catch a taxi, the party had now reduced to Gee and Me. We looked at each other and said – “I’m hungy!”

Nanni Day Care – no rules day

I’ll start by saying that I think my daughter and son-in-law are exceptional parents and they have blessed me with two wonderful grand-kids even though I don’t feel old enough to be a Nanni. Well that is until I’ve minded the two said grand-kids over a period of a day and night, then I do start feeling like a Nanni who’s been wrung out to dry. Not because they’re naughty, on the contrary they are very good, but when one has reached an age when one doesn’t have children around then one becomes rather selfish, and I do enjoy being selfish. I think I’ve deserved the right to be selfish just like my daughter and son-in-law will deserve the same right one day.

Although minding the grand-kids take its toll, I’m not too old to remember how I raised my kids: how I fed them, how I got them to sleep and how I entertained them.  However, I think these points have certainly been forgotten by my daughter. And I’ll tell you why…

The first time I minded my granddaughter Matilda was when she was around 12 months, she wasn’t too long off the breast but had adjusted nicely to her drinking cup. Which reminds me, what happened to the good old bottle? They seem to be out of vogue these days – go figure. Anyway, my daughter arrived at my place with all but the kitchen sink – I must add here that I had a fully equipped baby’s room setup at my home. Along with all but the kitchen sink was a two page list of things I must do, complete with the time of day to do them.

The handover took approximately 1 hour because it seems that my daughter has also forgotten that I’m capable of reading, so she proceeded to go over each item on the list. There were approximately 20 items on the ‘to do’ list. Needless to say my eyes glazed over at about point 9 where I drifted off to a faraway place where one’s mind wonders when someone is reading a long list of ‘to dos’. I must say at this point, she’d forgotten to include Matilda in the handover, because she had other ideas.

Long story short, the first night went very well. We all survived. However, I’m sure my daughter secretly wished it didn’t go so well because she felt, as all new mothers do, that she has an insight into raring babies that has clearly been missed by me and all the parents that have preceded me.  All I can say is – see I can do it!

By the way, I followed the list up until point 9 for obvious reasons.

My latest adventure in what I like to refer to as ‘Nanni day care’ went down last weekend, only it didn’t stop at one day. It consisted of a trip to Lithgow and an overnight stay with my two Aunts, one whom was turning 80. This was the real test – two babies, Matilda now 3, and my grandson Charlie who is 15 months.

Needless to say Charlie was the fly in the ointment of making this weekend a relaxing time. He’s a typical boy, he won’t sit and read, or play, or do needlepoint, but would rather see how many times his head can hit the corner of the kitchen table, or whether he has mastered the art of pulling a tablecloth out from under all the tableware, and on one occasion, a nice hot pot of tea, without making a mess.

Funnily enough Charlie didn’t succeed with the tablecloth trick but his head found the edge of the table on numerous occasions and he also found many things to touch that we didn’t quite agree on. But having said that, all is forgiven when he looks at me and smiles and then say’s ‘Nan Nan’.  I can’t resist that, even when I’m  about to collapse in a screaming heap and feel like I can’t possible get up again to rescue him from certain injury.

Of course this weekend started with a list of ‘to dos’ from my daughter. Thankfully she doesn’t bother writing a list anymore, she realizes now that it’ll be misplaced, not intentionally mind you. But I seem to recall a list of demands as follows:

  • Give Charlie an early lunch then leave for Lithgow at around 11.30am. This will be the time he will be due for his nap. (BTW she packed a little packed lunch of sultanas, yogurt, ham and cheese).
  • Dinner around 5pm, followed by a bath for both kids.
  • Give them both a cup of milk before bed (approx 5.45pm)
  • Charlie is to go to bed at 6pm sharp.
  • Matilda can stay up until around 7pm.
  • Charlie will wake up around 5am. Offer him some milk then put him back into the cot and walk out. Don’t turn the light on. Let him cry, he’ll go back to sleep.
  • Charlie will wake up around 7.30am. Matilda around the same time.

 This is where the list ended because my daughter and son-in-law would be arriving around 10.30am. So I guess she figured I would play it by ear between 7.30am and 10.30am.

No worries love!

We left for Lithgow around 10.30am. Charlie and Matilda ate lunch in the car after Charlie woke up at around 12pm – I hate stopping on the side of the road but thanks for the lunch box, next time pack a bit more food as it didn’t go all around. We ate dinner around 5.30pm followed by a bath and a weak attempt to get Charlie to drink his milk; after all he got his dairy intake from the ice-cream. Charlie went down to sleep at 6.30pm – first attempt. Charlie finally got to sleep around 7pm – nice work Uppy (aka Poppy) and Nanni. Matilda went down to sleep after 3 stories, a snack of biscuits and milk and threats of throwing her dummies in the bin – which would make it around 8.30pm.

Charlie woke up at 5am, or so I thought, not one clock in the house showed the same time. I attempted to give him some milk but he wasn’t interested. This was done with the light on because Charlie’s ear and mouth looked very similar in the dark. We then snuggled down together until he finally went to sleep. This may have taken 5 minutes or 2 hours, I have no idea as it was dark. Sometime later Matilda woke us both up. Charlie, Matilda, Uppy and I had breakfast after which we whittled the time away until my daughter and son-in-law arrived.

Sweet relief!

Now I did say at the beginning of this story that I haven’t forgotten how to raise children, and I haven’t. After all, my daughter is very much like me and her child raising techniques reflect mine to some degree. But as my parents did before me, we Grandparents have a big responsibility and that is to let the grand-kids do what they want as long we get peace and quiet in the meantime.

Idle chit chat

Do you ever wish you would be great at idle chit chat?  I’m sure you have. 

There’s not a week goes by that I’m not faced by a situation where idle chit chat is required. Idle chit chat is a form of communication between acquaintances, work colleagues you barely know,  people you don’t like,  or in-laws you only see at weddings or funerals.   However, for idle chit chat to be performed, there has to be a specific location where you can’t escape, such as:

  • Lifts – this is the more confronting place to be when you’re stuck in a lift with someone you barely know or like.  Those first couple of seconds, or worse still – minutes, when you’re reaching back into your mind searching for something to say. Your minds goes blank and out of your mouth you inevitably say “can you believe the weather we’re having?”.
  • Shopping isles– you see them approaching, them with their trolley, you with yours, on a direct collision course.  Have they noticed you yet?  Maybe you can pretend to be studying the baked bean jar for fat content and hope they don’t recognise you and pass by. But usually not, you both see each other, swear under your breath and try and figure out what the hell you’re going to say.
  • Churches – as mentioned above, weddings and funerals are another idle chit chat battle field. If your unlucky to be the in-law of the newly married or deceased person,  then you’re in for a long night.  You’ll be depending on idle chit chat to get you though.  However, for these occasions idle chit chat topics are fairly easy as you can rely on the occasion itself to come to your aid. For example, at a wedding you’ve go the opening sentence “nice wedding isn’t it?” or the good old favourite “doesn’t the bride look lovely?”. At funerals you can fall back on the opening line “he/she was a good person” and “they’re going to be missed”.
  • Medical centre – funny I should include this because I just returned from an x-ray,  where stripped down to a paper cape, I was alone in the x-ray room with a strange man who was going to take internal piccies of my stomach.  An intimate moment I don’t get with many people, yet alone strange men. Lucky for me he started the idle chit chat with a story about a faulty watch his brother got him from Thailand.  He make it sound like I was the first one to hear this story today.  I take my had off to an idle chit chat master.

Why do we feel the need for idle chit chat? Can’t we just be honest and ignore those we dont’ really want to talk to! 

No wonder so many of us are in theropy!

Don’t ya just hate it?

Don’t ya just hate waking up after a weird dream, your heart is racing and you feel like something bad’s just happened or is about to happen?  I certainly do.

The dream I had tonight was set in a stone castle. Not in any particular location but the castle represented something to me rather than the others who were with me. I can’t be specific about who was with me but I think one one of them was my friend Karen.

Throughout the dream I felt like the castle was haunted but not by a bodily spirit,  just by the presence of an eerie feeling. As typical in real life, I was up early and the rest of my dream cast were asleep upstairs.  However, the eerie feeling grew intense and I felt unnerved by it so I started to make my way back upstairs to wake the others, however, at the bottom of the stone stairwell I was confronted by an archway that once framed the staircase but was now only inches high.  I wasn’t going up and no on was coming down.  At that moment I felt relieved that I wasn’t upstairs but worried what the castle had in store for me and for my trapped friends.

Although the height of the archway would have been impossible to squeeze through, I lent down to see if there was a way of getting through and of course there wasn’t. While I was surveying the situation, I heard someone on the other side of the archway making their way down the stairs. It may have been Karen. She didn’t seem fazed by the blocked stairway so proceeded to try and get through, which was ridiculous because she barely got her foot through the tiny gap. It was at this stage I panicked and decided to run outside before the castle locked me in. I thought that I would be of better help to the others but only if I got out.

Unfortunately, I didn’t make it out but not because I was blocked, it was at that time I woke up. 

I guess I’ll never know what the ending is and try as I might to get back to sleep, I’m sure I wouldn’t finish this dream but instead have another bizare dream. So at 4.30am in the morning I got up and made my way downstairs, less the one inch archway. However, as I made my way down the stairs in total darkness, I had that feeling again, the one where you feel there is someone behind you and you’re not sure if they are protecting you or want to push you down the stairs.

It’s only fitting

It’s only fitting that I find myself at Concord hospital getting some pretty intense medical tests done.  Concord hospital for the most part, represents so much to me. It’s the place my mother first underwent the first of many operations for cancer, and ultimately it’s the place she took her last breath.

I think the enormity of the occasion together with the time I had to waste between x-rays and blood tests, gave me much to reflect on – my life and ultimate death.  Yes folks, I’m in a sombre mood and you gonna have to suck it up or leave now.

It’s not so much my death I dwell on but where I’m at in life right now and where I’ll be before I die – which will be many many years down the track I hope.

Seeing so many old people just hanging around wards in wheelchairs, runnaway hospital beds, all looking like they want an answer to their ailment, a fix or a miracle.  I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to be that person just hanging by a thread.  Surely life isn’t that enjoyable they’d do anything and endure anything to stay alive:  Will I?

After I drove away I felt miserable with life and what it can dish out.  Come to think of it, it doesn’t dish out much.  You’re born, you go to school, maybe do more school, then you work maybe have kids, grow old, maybe even old and lonely and then you wait for death  – the ultimate frontier.  And for me, death is nothing, it’s eternal nothingness.

I saw an old lady waiting at the traffic lights. She seemed loney, going through her boring mundane daily routine:  get up, have breakfast, potter around the house, walk to the nearby chemist to get her prescription filled for whatever ailment she has.  She probably doesn’t see her kids much anymore and the grandkids are probably too hip to waste time with their old boring grandmother. I could see this story in her eyes and the way she carried herself.  Will this be me someday?

Is it that I’m so unhappy with my life that I find I dwell on these things.  Surely not?  I have a great family and great friends.  I live comfortably.  So what’s missing, what’s the one thing that’s missing that I can’t put my finger on?

Well you don’t think I know the answer do you?  I hope you didn’t expect a good ending to this story.  I could write about happy mundane shit everyday if that’s what you want, but somedays you just have to endure the sombre me.

Should one just give up?

I don’t know about you, but does the all the grooming, dieting, exercising as well as keeping the house so clean you could eat off the floor get a bit overwhelming and you think you should just give up?   I’m at that stage now. 

It was only earlier this week that I had a couple of exercise sessions under my belt, my hair coloured and styled which cost a fortune but looked and felt great, if I don’t say so myself.  My clothes were starting to get a little lose and I’m sure my face looked a little fresher.   The house was spotless, clothes all washed, dried and put away,  and the dishwasher was empty because all the dishes were clean and put neatly away in their dedicated spots.  The towels were foldered and neatly stacked, in colour order, in the linen cupbloard.  The pantry and fridge was stocked with a couple of days worth of food which also included food for making lunches.

Forward a few days…….

My hair is overdue for a wash because I haven’t done it since the hairdresser did her magic, and I wanted to get my money’s worth.  I’ve just noticed I need a wax – not telling you where, but I need one none-the-less.  I’ve put on half a kilo because I’ve had a few wines and a bit too much to eat over the last couple of days and I haven’t been for a run.  The dishwasher is full and there are dirty dishes piling up waiting for the next load.  There is a washing basket full of towels in various colours waiting to be foldered and put away.  The bed hasn’t been made for days and the dust is slowly but surely settling in for the duration.  We’re out of food, hense the Thai takeaway tonight.  I’ve become a sloth!  And now I feel bad because society, on a whole, have become a people of perfectionists and I’ve subscribed to the group.  It’s exhausting!

I’m thinking about leaving the group but who am I kidding,  I love getting my hair done.

Is it just me?

Is it just me or does everyone feel like running away to join the circus? Figuratively speaking of course.

The confines of life get to me sometimes, as I’m sure it does you. I feel like a caged wild animal. Maybe referring to me as a wild animal is going too far, I’d say I was more like a caged dolphin – you know your duty is to perform predictable tricks but you can see the ocean beyond and dream of one day exploring what that ocean holds for you.

What holds me back is what I believe is the right thing to do, the right way to live, the right way to work and the right way to give myself to those closest to me. However, never too far away, packed in a slightly ajar closet, are the thoughts of what I’d love to do and that is: “Run Katie, Run!

Where am I going to run too, you ask?

This is a good question but, wherever it is – probably near the beach, I see myself dressed like a hippy, pottering around a garden, with a paint and easel not too far away. Yes I know I can’t paint, but this is my imagination and I can do anything in it.

In my imaginary world I don’t work 5 days a week, nor do I live in a penthouse apartment, nor can I buy more than I need or want. All I need and want is to have loving people around me and live for today, not for retirement.

[Harp music here, reality returning……]

Well, that was a nice little day dream, now back to the real world where I’m up at 6.27am writing about what I’d really want to do today albeit dressed as a hippy.

So what will I really be doing?

At 7am I’ll start getting ready for work. At 8am I’ll commence my drive to work where it may take 40-60 minutes to get 14 klms. Then I’ll sit at my desk most of the day, surface for lunch around 12 noon, coffee at 3pm, leave for home around 5.30pm, get home, have dinner, watch TV, maybe work on kitykate.com, then go to bed around 11pm, wake up tomorrow at 5ish to start all over again. Until Saturday, the day I get to put my toe in the ocean of life.

OMG is this it? Is this really what life is about? Shoot me now!

Ok, I realise that last statement is a bit overly dramatic but while I’m writing this blog that little closet has opened just a little bit more. Will I get the nerve to run and be free from the confines of life?

All I have to say about that is: Watch this space, you just never know!

Today’s jog

Maybe I was wrong in my last blog about ‘my dilemma’ – that it won’t be resolved. I was obviously in a ‘cold’ mood this morning because I didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and to be perfectly honest, it felt good.  I felt like I was having a minor power trip because I was in control by not giving away false smiles, which let’s face it, smiling at strangers at 6am isn’t exactly the first thing that springs to mind when I set out.

However, I must admit it did pass my mind that I live in a small community with the people that walk or run along the river front and I may get a nick name like ‘Ms Ice’ or something like with the folks that fall into category 1 or 2, see previous blog. Thankfully that passing thought did pass by and I brushed it off, continued my run and to hell with the category 1’s and 2’s.

The good intentions fairy

Often I set out with good intentions but I’m starting to believe the delivery of my good intentions are a bit skew-whiff.  No matter what I endeavour to organise, it doesn’t quite have the ending that I envisage.  Maybe my expectations are too high, especially of other people?   But no matter what I do, on the most part, people just don’t live up to their end of the bargain. 

Or is it they don’t live up to the bargan that I intended them to live up too?

The worse situation is when I’m trying to please one person but it results in others getting their noses out of joint.  But I’ll cop it on the chin because after all “I’m the good intentions fairy”. 

It’s a situation like this that has led to this post.  I was trying to do something good for someone I love. I’m not going into detail, because this will get me into more trouble and it’s been a rough day.  But I’d just like to say to everyone, if someone is trying to do something nice and their intentions are good, don’t expect the plans will go your way,  because after all – you’re not doing anything so suck it up!