The Kindness of (Almost) Strangers

Seven years ago, maybe more, when Ferdi first came into our life, when he looked like this (ie. freaking adorable), we lived in an apartment in Potts Point. I'd always had dogs, and those dogs had always slept wherever they wanted, even if that meant my bed. But my husband hadn't had a dog since he was a kid, and he was of the view that dogs should sleep on their own. So we put Ferdi to bed in the laundry, then headed upstairs to try and get some sleep. 

He was just a little puppy, so he cried. Oh man, did he cry. All, night, long. But there were two solid doors between us and his cries, so we managed to block it out, mostly. 

He'll learn soon enough, we thought.* 

What we hadn't realised was that there was only a thin wall between Ferdi's night time spot and our poor neighbours, so whilst we could tune the cries out they were pretty much stuck with them. We hadn't been living in the apartment all that long, so we really didn't know our neighbours. But we had kept them awake with puppy howls. For a week. Not good.

They could have written an angry, abusive note. They could have made a complaint to our landlord, or to the council. But instead they came and knocked on our door one day with a big fluffy soft toy. They said they'd heard a puppy crying, and they thought it might provide some comfort. I was horribly apologetic of course, and embarrassed, but I was also incredibly touched. Wasn't it the nicest, kindest, most thoughtful approach ever? 

I've been thinking a lot about this recently - the kindness of almost strangers. I don't know about you but I'm in the midst of a pretty teary fortnight, and not all of it can be blamed on hormones. I adore social media, I really do. It connects me to all kinds of people all over the world. But it also connects me to the tragic, unfair, horrible, nasty, inexplicable and just plain sad things that can happen to those people. 

Lately it seems every time I check Facebook or Twitter I end up shedding tears over the death of someone's dog, or grandma, or dear friend. I hold my breath as a domestic tragedy unfolds, or a health scare freezes a family in their tracks. Not to mention the relentlessly depressing news - the treatment of refugees, the funding cuts, the arrogance of those in power. 

And then I tear up again when I see the online community, this community of almost strangers, band together to offer their love and support, and hope, and passion. (Good lord I am getting sentimental in my old age. Cynical teenager me would be horrified right now. But not activist pre-teen me, she'd be cheering.)

There's so many people doing so many thoughtful things, big and small. There are people making awesome stuff so they can raise money for things they care about, there are people organising donations of gorgeous handmade things for kids who really need them, there are people putting out their bats. There's the friend who gave her postie a bucket of homegrown broad beans (and who got a thank you note scrawled on her mail the next day, complete with recipe). And there's the online community creating a special secret surprise for someone who is going through a pretty tough time right now. There's fellow dachshund obsessed loving people, helping each other out. There's my Mum, banding together with other Grandmas to do this. 

There is so much kindness out there, it's humbling. And it reminds me - it's a choice we make, to be kind and thoughtful and generous, in whatever way we can. It's a choice to ignore the cynics and do something, however small, even when we are feeling distant and helpless. So, what do you choose? 

*In the end we caved and now both dogs take up more room on the bed than we ever do, but that's another story.

Things I Miss...

There is so much that is awesome about being back in Australia. 

The gorgeous Sydney beaches, the good wine, the nectarines and sweet, sweet corn. How my Mum can just 'pop up' to Sydney for a few days, or how I can head to Melbourne for my sister's super fun 40th without too much trouble. Being able to spend more time with friends and family, and finally meeting some of my virtual friends in the real world (and finding out that they are just as ace off line as on!). So much awesome.

But…there are things I miss, about being overseas and about having a home (we're still living in our 'cosy' serviced apartment and most of our stuff is still in storage somewhere). In no particular order, here are some things I miss right now:

Ferdi and Elfi

The kim chi fries at Vatos

Namdaemun's ribbon shops (but finding this Australian website has eased the pain somewhat)

My scanner (you don't realise how many times a day you scan and email something until you have to walk to Officeworks every time you need to do it)

An internet connection that doesn't drop out every few seconds and can cope with having 15+ tabs open at once 

Mandoo! Soup! Noodles! Soupy Noodles! With Mandoo!

My husband having his own office (right now I'm hearing every word of his midnight conference calls…)

My washi tape stash 

Our books
Watching movies on long haul flights

The cold (I know this sounds crazy - I'm loving the beautiful early summer in Sydney but I'm also strangely missing that sudden drop below zero in Seoul...) 

My tote bag collection (I didn't bring any with me, but I refuse to buy anymore as I have too many…can't wait to break them all out of storage; I miss this one the most)

Not having to worry about my purse / backpack / camera being pinched 

Muji, Uniqlo and all the cheap but good 'Made in Korea' stuff (knits and socks especially)

Having only a short flight between me and two of my favourite cities in the world 

Everything being new and strange and kind of wonderful because of that...

A Little Note About Life Right Now...

You may have noticed things have been a little quiet over here lately, quieter than usual. It's not because I don't have anything to blog about. There's fifteen draft posts sitting here waiting to be finished, asking to be written. 

I want to tell you about the things I've learnt from living overseas, and the things I'm loving about being back in Australia and the things I miss about Korea. And I want to tell you about the ups and downs of being a step mum. And I also really want to give you an update on The Big Project; to show you the progress and let you know how awesome our architect has been through the whole process. 

But, as much as I really want to do all that, it just hasn't been a priority for me right now. And I need to accept that - to acknowledge that that's the choice I'm making, rather than feel frustrated that I haven't hit publish on those draft posts. I'll get to them one day, it's just not today. 

Because today I'm focussed on spending time with the husband before he heads off on another long-ish overseas trip. On setting up the house for the step-sons so it feels like a comfortable place for them, and so that it's easy for them to transition from their Mum's house to ours and back again. I'm focussed on enjoying the sunshine, the unseasonable warmth, and on being active with tennis games and gym visits and trips to the beach. And - let's be honest - I'm also focussed on eating all the things in Sydney. 

I'm also focussed on less fun things like sorting out the gas and water and electricity and wifi and car insurance. And pointlessly fretting over our cash flow. Oh, and the ironing. The endless, mind numbing ironing. 

But it's actually pretty great, this keeping busy with good and mundane real world tasks. Because, to be honest, if I don't keep busy in the real world right now there's a high chance I'll fall into a bit of a hole...

Awhile ago I was chatting to someone who'd done the whole repatriation thing. She'd lived and worked in Europe for a few years. Had a great job, had a great life. And then she moved back home. And she was fine, until one day she found herself sobbing uncontrollably in the supermarket, thinking 'a few months ago I was spending my weekends in France and now I'm stuck in the suburbs of Brisbane figuring out which brand of butter to buy'. (I may be paraphrasing a little, but you get the gist). 

When I'm not busy I'm dislocated. I'm a bit lost (especially without my dogs). I don't know my routine yet, my direction. People keep asking me if I'm working, what I'm doing. And - long term - I'm not really sure how to answer that. So I'm going to keep soaking up the sunshine and hitting the gym and hanging out with the husband and step-sons. I'm going to keep focussing on what's happening in front of me, right now, for a little while longer. Bear with me.

ProBlogger : Five Things I Learnt

In my last post I mentioned that I'd just returned from the Problogger Training Event. It was two days of fabulous sessions on all kinds of things - from the nitty gritty of Google Analytics to ways to engage your community and tips on becoming a freelance writer. I also met some really ace people in the flesh for the first time (*waves hello to Cheryl, Jess and Elle*) and got to spend more time with some other bloggy friends (Hello Dannielle!). So much food for thought! Now that the dust has settled a little, here are some of the key things I picked up... 

1. ProBlogger isn't all about making money from your blog. 

Sometimes it is, but sometimes it's not. During the opening session, Trey Ratcliff told a story about Star Trek's Leonard Nimoy - about how his real passion is Shakespeare, but he made his money by acting in a sci fi TV show. The money making bit is related to the passion bit, but it's not where he generated his income. Later, I attended a very informative session on freelance writing with Valerie Khoo and Kelly Exeter. One of the things they talked about was writing copy for corporate newsletters and company websites. They talked about writing that feeds your soul and writing that pays the bills.

This sort of stuff is music to the ears of bloggers like me who feel a little uneasy about sponsored posts (and, let's be honest, who don't quite have the blogging dedication required to build an appropriate audience to garner sponsorships). Yes, ProBlogger is about making a profession out of a hobby, but there are so many forms that this can take. 

Across a range of speakers it became clear that blog monetisation isn't just about sponsored posts and advertising. It's about partnerships and collaborations. It's about ebooks and opportunities; finding those areas on the outskirts of your passion, the things you love that overlap with the things people need.

2. You don't have to be the expert. 

This was a theme that came up again and again. One of the things Darren Rowse talked about in his opening keynote was that you need to deal with the fact that you'll never know it all. Put aside time to learn, figure out how to build your knowledge, but realise that there will always be more to know. 

This was something I definitely needed to hear. I always put off doing things because 'I don't know how'. I don't call myself a blogger or a writer or a photographer because I feel like an impostor when I do, because there's so much I don't know yet. But maybe it's time to acknowledge the skills that I have, to be be proactive about the things I want to learn, and to just start doing stuff. 

Somewhat related was another common theme - these days bloggers and brands alike are focussed on 'engagement', on 'making the reader the hero'. This means that you don't need to be the expert, you and the reader can learn together. Want to blog about veganism but you're not a nutritionist? That's okay - admit the gaps in your knowledge and take your community on a journey with you. 

3. I don't want to change the world. 

In that room of 450 or so bloggers dreaming big, I'm pretty sure I was in the minority on this one. But it's true, I don't. What I do want is to be good at what I do. I want to be proud of the things I write and the photos I take. I want to learn a lot more about the technical stuff, and build on the skills I have. And I want to be a nice person. 

Sounds kind of lame, right? But it's true. I want to be a great wife, a great step-mum; to enjoy time with my mum and sister and nephews and family. I want to create good things; to contribute to my little community, my little corner of the earth. But I don't want to change the world. 

4. I still suck at small talk. But that's okay. 

Thanks to my previous experience as a trainer and facilitator in the corporate world, and that whole moving overseas thing, I am much better at chit chat than I ever used to be. But there are still times when I am incredibly awkward or just say really dumb stuff. I'm pretty sure this lady now thinks I am a total freak / airhead, which kind of sucks because she's a blogger I admire. But that's okay, we all mess up sometimes. And next time it will be better. 

5. No matter who you meet (or don't meet) at the event, your network will grow.

At the last minute I drew up a list of people I wanted to connect with. I tracked most of them down (although I missed Lisa Tilse which I'm quite sad about because her blog is a thing of beauty). But here's the thing - in the week or so since ProBlogger I've got a ton of new active Twitter followers and a handful of new Facebook friends. They are people that I noticed using the #pbevent tag (and they noticed me), or who I saw interacting with some of my favourite tweeters (and vice versa). So don't fret too much if you don't make all the connections you wanted to at the event (it's a pretty hectic few days) - you'll find your network will continue to grow afterwards anyway. 

So, that's what I learnt at ProBlogger. Well, to be honest it's just the tip of the iceberg. I'll be back in the next week or so with another post about some of my favourite speakers and a bit more about what they actually said. So, stay tuned! 

Oh! And a bonus thing I learnt - 6. I do not like the Gold Coast. It is all the bad things about Australia crammed along an (admittedly gorgeous) coastline. I really, really do not like it. But more on that at a later date...

True Story : I Love Election Day

The weekend made me realise I freaking love election day. I mean, I really, really love it (and not just because of the sausage sizzles). I realise I may have just lost half my audience right there, and I also realise the other half that's still with me is rolling their eyes and thinking 'ughhh...I though we'd finally stopped talking about the damn election.' But I'm writing this anyway. You can relax a little - this isn't about the results (if you want to know my feelings on those have a look at my Twitter). No, it's about the day and the process. Actually, it's kind of about politics as a whole. 

Let's back up a bit. I grew up in a very politically aware household. My folks were involved; passionate about issues. There were posters and badges and marches, and late night arguments fuelled by cheap red wine. (Clarification - the adults were drinking the wine and arguing, I was dozing in the background.)

I remember the build up to state and federal elections, the excitement on the day. I remember handing out how to vote cards at our local polling station. That's me down there, barefoot, aged about 6 or 7, and rocking some 80s fashion (I wish I still had that tee!). I remember election nights, done Don's Party style. The gathering of friends, the commiserating and ranting when 'your side' lost. The relief when they won. Politics was kind of our football. I was pretty young, so all of this was a bit in the background, but I remember it. And I think it helped to give me a lifelong interest in politics, and a lifelong love of election day. 

I love the whole ritual of election day. Strolling past the how to vote people and ignoring them all (because I've done my own research, thanks). I love the lining up (no, really!), finding my name, carefully filling out the papers (I voted below the line this year), and, best of all, putting my precious vote in the ballot box. I've always lived in a very safe not-the-person-I'd-vote-for electorate, so you could argue my vote is pointless, meaningless. But...it makes no difference to how I feel about it. I think Leunig summed it up best. (Also, speaking of putting your vote in the ballot box, did you see this? Lovely, yes?). 

And then you have election night itself, featuring the astounding Antony Green, of course. If you're a people watcher like me, then election night coverage delivers the best people watching you could ever hope for. Think about it - these candidates have poured their heart and soul into something they believe in, and now the public has passed judgement. And then - after sleepless nights, a frantic day, and probably a red wine or two too many (we're looking at you Malcolm Turnbull) - they're expected to go on live TV and not cock it all up. It's like a really real, really big, reality TV show. No scripts or 'personalities', just jubilation and brave fronts; flushed faces, fumbles, photobombs; passion and dissapointment. These are people at their most vulnerable, most proud, most heartbroken, perplexed, honest. 

And when it all starts going sour that's when the fun really begins. That's when people start pointing fingers, apportioning blame. It's not election night without a losing candidate having a rant about how their own party screwed it all up. 

And I know that some of you out there are thinking - but I hate politics! Well, firstly, thanks for reading this far, that was unexpected. And secondly, you don't hate politics, I promise. You just don't like certain politicians. 

I'm not going to tell you you should like politics because it's good for you, because it impacts you. No, you should like politics because it's life, amplified. It's Shakespeare and Game of Thrones and America's Next Top Model and that niggle with your mother in law. It also can be, should be, about belief and vision and thoughtful analysis. About good things, noble things, smart things. About making the world a slightly better place. Politics says - I have faith, I believe in this place; I believe it can be better than it is. You may not agree with the how, but surely you'd agree with the why. And how can you not get excited about that?

The First Few Days : Random Thoughts on Moving 'Home'

After a frustrating last day in Seoul (it's a long story), we touched down in Sydney early Sunday morning. Not for a fleeting visit, for good. (Maybe.) We are home. 

Here are some things I've been thinking : 

- The first few days after a big move suck because you remember all the things you need right now (like health care details and internet banking passwords and so much more) that are currently in a box on a boat and won't be seen for a few months yet...I keep waking up at 3am in a mild panic thinking things like 'Oh no! My business cards are still in my filing cabinet (which is now on a boat) and ProBlogger is next week! Ughhh!'. (Thank goodness for moo.com's rush orders!).

- There is a massive gap in the market for corporate approved, pet friendly accommodation. Right now our dogs are in quarantine so they couldn't be with us anyway, but they'll be out in under a month and they'll have to go to a boarding kennel until The Big Project is finished. The company my husband works for is covering most of our temporary accommodation, which is really very awesome, but it does mean we have to stay with an approved provider. And not a single one of those are pet friendly. 

- Spring has only just started and already half of Sydney seems to have misplaced their wardrobe. (File this one under 'reverse culture shock'.) 

- It's rather helpful to be speaking the same language as the waiters and shop assistants and service people, but I really, really don't like being able to understand what all the people around me in cafes and restaurants and trains are saying. 

- Just because you speak the same language doesn't mean things will suddenly be easy to sort out. Paperwork and red tape and ridiculous rules are universal. This is easy to forget. 

- Related - during all the mad packing and organising in Seoul I kept thinking 'once I get to Sydney I'll be able to relax, for a few days at least'. Um, no. Not at all. It has been a ridiculously busy few days. Everything still needs to be done, and new things are constantly cropping up. Hoping the weekend brings a bit of breathing space...

- People aren't so friendly when you're all the same. In Seoul, whenever one of our young neighbours got in the lift with us they'd smile, giggle nervously, wave, say 'hi', ask where we were from. We stood out in Seoul, and people were drawn to that. I think there's also something about the community minded collectivist culture that you find across Asia, something that makes daily connections and polite hellos the norm. Also, in the expat world you kind of revert back to primary school friendship making techniques (basically 'hi, you look nice and we're in the same general vicinity, wanna play?'). You kind of forget that the real world isn't like that; that people tend to freak out when you randomly smile at them. 

- Sydney doesn't know the meaning of cold (and I'm okay with that). 

- Australian produce - dear lord I love you. I've basically spent every spare moment of the last few days wandering the supermarket aisles hugging fresh herbs and shedding tears over the perfect corn cob. And don't get me started on the dairy cabinet (ricotta! feta! cottage cheese!). 

- Everyone welcomes you home, but to be honest it doesn't feel like home, yet. 

The best description I can come up with for the past few days? Surreal. And exciting. 

*************

ps. Thank you all so much for the Sydney advice in response to my last post! So much helpful info!

Three More Emotions of Repatriation

Emotion 7 - Getting Stuff Done 

It starts getting near the pointy end, near to the actual moving day, and you get down to business. You are focussed. You are a machine. An email sending, form filling, hotel booking machine. You make categorised, prioritised lists of things you need to do. And then you do them. You organise import permits and insurance. You cancel your cable, find a home for your fish. You book storage units and flights and serviced apartments. 

You don't ponder the pros and cons, you don't mope about this or that, you just get stuff done. You don't waste time with things you'd normally enjoy, like preparing delicious meals, you just eat whatever's easy and you get stuff done. You barely sleep, you stay off Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Candy Crush for hours at a time (okay, maybe it was just the one hour), you don't blog or play with Photoshop. You just get stuff done. 

Emotion 8 - Delirium / Exhaustion 

You see all those ticks on your to do list and you think 'I am so freaking organised! I am the freaking QUEEN of getting stuff done!'. And then, seeing as you are a queen and all, you ask the dogs to curtsey before you. And you wonder if someone should make you a crown. And you giggle to yourself, a little hysterically. And you think - perhaps it's time for bed...

And you wake up the next morning and your eyes are scratchy and your throat is sore and your glands are swollen. And lots of people tell you to take it easy, take a rest. So you do. You sleep in, and you spend a day reading, and listening to the radio, and mainlining vitamin C and zinc. You have a soothing soup for lunch and later you play sous chef to your husband while he cooks up a tasty dinner. The next day you're refreshed and ready to take it all on again. 

Emotion 9 - The Grab Bag 

You don't really feel an emotion, you feel all the emotions. Not quite at once but in rapid, ever changing succession. Little things set you off. Frustration, triumph, annoyance, elation, depression, fear, stress, excitement, confidence, happiness, tranquility...all wash over you a few times a day. 

You book a beach holiday with the dogs (something you haven't been able to do in Korea) and you feel extravagantly happy. You plan to see your family just before xmas (something you haven't been able to do while living overseas) and you feel overwhelming excitement. 

But then you book a boarding kennel for the dogs, it's where they'll live while you're in the serviced apartment, and you feel indescribably sad (and strangely afraid). You go to the vets to get a lump tested on one of the dogs, and you can't help but shed a tear or two while waiting for the results. You think 'What if it's bad? What will we do?'. After ten minutes they say they're 90% sure it's not bad, and you are so ridiculously relieved and thankful. 

Later, you look at the husband's planner and say 'Oh - you're going to Hong Kong? I'll come too...' but then your voice trails off when you realise by then Hong Kong will be eight hours away, not three. You're reminded that things are going to change; things are going to be very different, very soon. You find out a bill hasn't been paid, an email has bounced back, your credit card has been cancelled - and you feel annoyance and frustration out of all proportion to the situation. 

You realise perhaps you are not quite as refreshed and ready as you thought. So you go to the gym, and then do some stuff. You edit a bunch of photos, and then do some stuff. You have lunch with a friend, and then do some stuff. You realise that there's no mad race, that you are actually pretty organised, that things will fall in to place. That it's about balance, and that if you look after yourself you'll do a better job of everything. And that you need to take the time to savour the days you have left in this crazy city.

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If you're wondering what the first six emotions of repatriation are you can read all about them here. You may want to have a stiff drink handy. 

And yes, for the quibblers, I understand some of these aren't technically 'emotions'. But I don't care.

The Six Emotions of Repatriation* (so far)

Emotion 1 - Excitement 

Finally! You get confirmation that the move back home (that's been a possibly, maybe for the past six months) is definite, it's happening! And although the move is still many months away you feel joy, excitement, elation. 'I'm going home!' you think. Back to good restaurants and shoes that fit me and English speakers and lamb, delicious lamb and my family, my sister and my nephews, and well priced delicious wine and trips to the beach with the dogs and friends, old and new, and clean air and, and, and! You think 'life is going to be easy again!'. 

Emotion 2 - Fear 

You think 'life is going to be easy again.' You realise that you love living abroad, being a stranger. You love the day to day challenges; the living in blissful ignorance, not speaking English for days on end. You love the apartment you've been living in for 3+ years; it feels like home. 

On a trip back to Australia you walk down Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, trying to really imagine living in this city again, and all you can think is that it feels like a small country town. Quiet, isolated, remote. And you are not special there. You think 'is this the end of adventure? Is my life just going to be a comfortable beige blur from now on?'. 

And then you think about the move a bit more and you realise that you can't use visa restrictions and language barriers as an excuse any more, people are going to expect you to get out there and do something with your life. Which scares you. 

And then there's the uncertainty, the questions. Where can I find 4 dollar soupy noodles in Sydney? (I'm pretty sure the answer is - nowhere). How will we manage 'co-parenting' when everyone's living in the same city, the same country? Will I go to parent-teacher night? How will I get my fix of cheap, cute stationery? How will I cope with shop assistants talking to me, in English? Does the husband really expect me to do the ironing? You fear the big stuff - becoming stagnant; changing roles and relationships - and you fear the little stuff. 

Emotion 3 - Regret 

You realise the move really is on and time is running out, and a strange thing happens. All those things that were driving you completely crazy about Korea (or insert-your-expat-country-name-here), those things that had you weeping with frustration, they disappear. Suddenly all you notice is how breathtakingly pretty the city looks in Spring, how much you love kim chi, how great the shopping is. You notice how comfortable you feel in your neighbourhood - even though you'll never look like a local, you feel kind of like a local. And even though logically you know all the (very valid) reasons why you made the decision to move back home, emotionally you feel a sort of soft regret. 

And you think of all those weekend trips to places that are (relatively) short hops away (Kyoto, Suzhou, to name two) that you never took. The road trips, the city excursions, the hikes. The craft and cooking classes. The blog posts you never wrote...time is running out. 

Emotion 4 - Panic 

As the move looms closer, you start to panic. Panic at the thought of all that stuff (oh, so much stuff!) that needs to be moved across oceans. Bouts of de-cluttering follow. With a slightly manic glint in your eye, you throw out whole boxes of scrap paper, a stack of DVDs you'll never watch again and a broken faux-Meccano roller coaster. You try to get the step-sons enthused about the process, but instead the youngest one just holds up a single piece of crumpled paper and asks 'soooo...do you think I should keep this?'. 

Then you start thinking about the actual move, and panic turns to stress. Yes there's the packing and unpacking, but there's also the disconnecting and connecting (phone, internet, gas, water, DTV...). And what do you do with the goldfish? And the pot plants? Then there's the transporting of dachshunds; the finding of doctors and dentists and waxers. And vets. Oh, and you need to find somewhere to live, for a little while, until you can move in to what will be your Home (yes, with a capital 'H'). And you realise when it comes to quality short term accommodation Sydney is the worst. And pet friendly? No way. 

Emotion 5 - Depression 

So you realise that for the first few months after the move you're probably going to be living in a soulless apartment that's over your budget. And the dogs, your dogs, will be spending time in quarantine and maybe then living at a boarding kennel. And everything will feel, will be, temporary. Again. 

And then something little happens, just an everyday frustration, and it's enough to push you over the edge. And you realise you may have just yelled at some poor customer service person, or maybe you're sitting at your computer with tears in your eyes and your not quite sure why. You realise it's because you don't actually deal very well with uncertainty, and everything, everything is uncertain right now. 

Time for a stroll in the sunshine, a good meal, a good book, a glass of wine. Some pom pom making. Time for a deep breath. 

Emotion 6 - Acceptance 

You remember all that management training about circle of influence / circle of concern. You realise you cannot control everything, and that actually that's part of what you've loved about living overseas. You write a list and start working on what you can, and let go of what you can't. You start cramming in all those city excursions and blog posts. You make plans for next year, for when you are Home; things you want to achieve that could not have been possible whilst you were living abroad. You get excited about the possibilities again. And you realise that no, it's not the end of adventure. That it's the start of something new. And just like the past 6 years it will be both wonderful and mundane. 

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*Is it just me or is repatriation a really ugly word? It kind of sounds like a medical procedure or some sort of 'enhanced interrogation' technique...

Something's Gotta Give...(and Other Post-Easter Realisations)

Life has been as little busy of late. Actually, to be honest, life has been physically and emotionally exhausting of late. I feel like I've been running from one thing to the other, going at full speed all day and half the night. 

And on top of that my head has been swirling with all kinds of questions about relationships, family, step-parenting, beliefs, creativity, purpose, life, death...you know, just the small stuff. So amongst all of this, something had to give. And much to my sadness that something has been my online time. (But much to my happiness that something hasn't been my daily exercise, seems I've finally formed a healthy habit there!). 

Anyway, here's some things that have been on my mind over the past week or so: 

- I'm a big fan of outsourcing when it comes to housework. One of the blessed perks of being a corporate supported expat in Asia is the easy avaialability of outside help to vacuum, iron and change the bed linen (three tasks I loathe). Like a lot of Aussies, when we first moved to Hong Kong we resisted getting a 'helper' for a long time, but we caved, and haven't looked back. Currently our part time helper (who is 9 shades of awesome) is back home in the Philippines and I miss her terribly. It's such a surreal thing though, one day I'll write a post about the whole maid phenomenon... 

- Being busy isn't all bad. It can give you a sense of accomplishment and focus your mind absolutely. It can make you feel all super organised and grown up.  

- Doing housework isn't all bad. I get a strange kick out of mopping, washing the clothes and doing the dishes. Everything else though - meh! Also, the never ending bit - meh! (See also this). 

- A good meal can make most things better. Ditto for sunshine, happy dogs and a nice cup of tea. 

- Roast lamb, peas and mint are a heavenly trifecta. 

- It's a bit sad when kids grow out of things. There was no Easter egg hunt in our house this year.

- Speaking of kids, I am the worst daughter! It was my Mum's birthday last week and I haven't even sent her a card yet. So, once again, happy birthday Mum - something very special will be on it's way to you soon...

- We have no real Easter traditions, which is also a bit sad. Do you have any secular ones we could steal? Suitable for teens-to-be? And fussy husbands? 

- Having this song stuck in your head all week is not necessarily a bad thing. 

- Annie Proulx is a lyrical genius. I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to get round to reading The Shipping News. 

- Life is lonely, sometimes. It's also often a little bit messy. But most of all, life is pretty darn good, and I'm grateful for that.

Hope you all had a wonderful Easter, and - if you're in the middle of them, like a lot of Australians are - I do hope you're enjoying the school holidays!