So I have made it to day 30 of the 30 Day Blogging Challenge where I undertook to post once a day for 30 days. I have surprised myself at the persistence I have exhibited and I am hoping that it has not been too tedious for anyone who has been reading my blog posts.
I was planning to do another post today with more pictures describing the next stage of our trip to France in 2014, but with all the sad, sad news coming out of Paris today I think I will just post a few of my favourite Paris photos and send heartfelt loving energy to everyone in that beautiful city.
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... easing into semi-retirement, having lots of creative adventures and enjoying being a (relatively) new Granny.
Showing posts with label 30 Day Blog Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 30 Day Blog Challenge. Show all posts
Sunday, 15 November 2015
Saturday, 14 November 2015
Week 4 roundup
This week I managed to again post every day to my blog, although I wasn't able to get through my planned sequence of travelling through France. Doing that should see me through to the end of the 30 Day Blog Challenge and then I can decide how often I plan to regularly post if not every day.
Here's a brief run down of what you missed if you haven't yet discovered my website.
Day 22: Week 3 of Grandmarg's blog
Day 23: Travelling from Sydney to Hong Kong on the way to Paris
Day 24: Day 2 - Arriving in Paris and exploring alone
Day 25: Neighbours - how much I loved our neighbours, and why
Day 26: Going to school - how I continued to hate going to school
Day 27: Misunderstood - addressing a writing prompt
Day 28: July road trip - some photos from my solo road trip
Here's a brief run down of what you missed if you haven't yet discovered my website.
Day 22: Week 3 of Grandmarg's blog
Day 23: Travelling from Sydney to Hong Kong on the way to Paris
Day 24: Day 2 - Arriving in Paris and exploring alone
Day 25: Neighbours - how much I loved our neighbours, and why
Day 26: Going to school - how I continued to hate going to school
Day 27: Misunderstood - addressing a writing prompt
Day 28: July road trip - some photos from my solo road trip
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Friday, 13 November 2015
July road trip
Thursday, 12 November 2015
Misunderstood
The eight year old girl never felt that she could tell her Mum or Dad how she was feeling: her mother always seemed so busy with the younger children at home and she didn't want to bother her any more than necessary, and her father was always so tired and distracted when he came home long after dark that she didn't talk to him either.
She continued to ask herself
for many years why she always felt she could never talk to her parents about what mattered in her life, what frightened her and what didn't, what she was proud of and what she was ashamed of.
Finally the answer came to her: as the eldest child she was
always told that she was the big girl, older than the others, able to cope; but
all she ever wanted was for someone to get it, to understand, to say, " I know how you're feeling."
If only someone had sat her down and asked some questions about how she was feeling and what was bothering her, she may have learnt to cope with change more readily at a much earlier age, because sometimes she didn't feel so
grown up and just wanted a little babying.
She wasn't looking for someone to
fix the situation, just another person who could understand and let her know they
understood.
Wednesday, 11 November 2015
Going to school - Kywong
When I was five years old I started school. I had to go on the school bus and every day I hated leaving my family.
Dad would drive me to catch the bus and my heart would sink when I saw the bus coming around the corner. I used to cry a lot and I told Mum that some of the kids on the bus teased me; I don’t think they really did tease me, I think I was just plain miserable at having to go to school and needed an excuse for crying so much.
However, I do remember having some happy times at school, especially an occasion when the School Inspector, Mr Lake, came to school and I had to read for him in front of the class. I loved to read and this was probably when I first realised that sometimes other people had trouble making sense of the words on the page.
First aid was a concern because our school was so remote, without even a telephone to contact the outside world. Friar’s Balsam was the universal antidote for all manner of cuts and scrapes and if you had a toothache during the school day the headmaster would give you Oil of Cloves to relieve the pain.
On one occasion the school photographer arrived unannounced for school photos and we had to tidy ourselves up very quickly; it must have been a very quick preparation because in that photo my hair is standing up on end.
Growing up in such a large family circle should have assured me of plenty of self confidence but it didn't. I really hated going to school, I hated having to go to travel on the bus and I think I just hated any change in my life.
It must have been so hard for Mum to send me off sobbing every day on the school bus. I know how she must have felt because I experienced the same thing some 40 years later when Amy was going to school most unwillingly.
Knowing what I now know I would have taken Amy’s concerns more seriously and sought professional help for us all. I was struggling to commute to work full time in Canberra as well as study part time by distance, and Peter was working at the gaol so he was often not available to help out. We got through those difficult years somehow but I still feel sad and I do hope that Amy realises that I did the best that I could at the time.
I still feel anxious when I think of little tots starting school and I already wonder how my own grandchildren will go when it’s their turn.
Just the thought of having to leave someone so young for a whole day in a group situation fills me with trepidation – my heart starts to pound and I feel the anxiety flood through me. But why do I feel this way? Am I just transferring the memory of my own experiences onto my grandbabies? Both Sally and Ben went to school with very few problems but perhaps I identified more with Amy than with them.
Dad would drive me to catch the bus and my heart would sink when I saw the bus coming around the corner. I used to cry a lot and I told Mum that some of the kids on the bus teased me; I don’t think they really did tease me, I think I was just plain miserable at having to go to school and needed an excuse for crying so much.
However, I do remember having some happy times at school, especially an occasion when the School Inspector, Mr Lake, came to school and I had to read for him in front of the class. I loved to read and this was probably when I first realised that sometimes other people had trouble making sense of the words on the page.
First aid was a concern because our school was so remote, without even a telephone to contact the outside world. Friar’s Balsam was the universal antidote for all manner of cuts and scrapes and if you had a toothache during the school day the headmaster would give you Oil of Cloves to relieve the pain.
On one occasion the school photographer arrived unannounced for school photos and we had to tidy ourselves up very quickly; it must have been a very quick preparation because in that photo my hair is standing up on end.
Growing up in such a large family circle should have assured me of plenty of self confidence but it didn't. I really hated going to school, I hated having to go to travel on the bus and I think I just hated any change in my life.
It must have been so hard for Mum to send me off sobbing every day on the school bus. I know how she must have felt because I experienced the same thing some 40 years later when Amy was going to school most unwillingly.
Knowing what I now know I would have taken Amy’s concerns more seriously and sought professional help for us all. I was struggling to commute to work full time in Canberra as well as study part time by distance, and Peter was working at the gaol so he was often not available to help out. We got through those difficult years somehow but I still feel sad and I do hope that Amy realises that I did the best that I could at the time.
I still feel anxious when I think of little tots starting school and I already wonder how my own grandchildren will go when it’s their turn.
Just the thought of having to leave someone so young for a whole day in a group situation fills me with trepidation – my heart starts to pound and I feel the anxiety flood through me. But why do I feel this way? Am I just transferring the memory of my own experiences onto my grandbabies? Both Sally and Ben went to school with very few problems but perhaps I identified more with Amy than with them.
Tuesday, 10 November 2015
Neighbours
From the time I was born until I
was ten years old I felt nothing but unconditional love for our next door
neighbours.
Soon after, my grandfather died, my uncle married, my aunt returned to live at home with her two children, and then we moved far away from that encompassing circle of family love.
The magical spell was broken but those happy times will remain always in my memory.
I was
extremely fortunate to live on a farm next door to my father’s parents and I
saw them almost every day of my life.
In my memory we are always seated around the large kitchen table
having morning tea, afternoon tea or lunch. There is always a crowd of people
there - my uncles, aunts, grandfather, Dad, and sometimes also shearers and
other workmen.
The kitchen always smells of delicious meals, soups, roasts, and
of course fruit cake and slice. I always have a cup of cocoa with the adults because my grandfather makes it deliciously
sweet and creamy, just the way I like it.
Soon after, my grandfather died, my uncle married, my aunt returned to live at home with her two children, and then we moved far away from that encompassing circle of family love.
The magical spell was broken but those happy times will remain always in my memory.
Monday, 9 November 2015
Day 2 - Arriving in Europe and exploring Paris alone
The longest leg of our journey to Europe was from Hong Kong to London, a total of 11 hours in the air but mercifully most of the trip was in the evening.
We arrived in Paris at about 9.00am and then had an unplanned free tour of Paris attractions as our (replacement?) shuttle bus driver took a small bus load of jet lagged tourists all around Paris hoping our hotels would magically appear:-). He was so stubborn that he would not admit he was lost, kept checking maps on his phone and even resorted to asking people at traffic lights for directions. We FINALLY arrived at our very posh hotel Hilton La Defence after 2 hours of driving around Paris.
| We settled in and dozed for the afternoon and then ordered Room Service for our first French meal - Croc Monsieur, yum! |
We had a free day before joining our Trafalgar tour so decided to spend the day having our own tour of Paris. Trevor was extremely jetlagged and couldn't wake up so we left him to sleep it off.
After a couple of hiccups we managed to negotiate the Metro and found ourselves at Gare Saint-Lazare. I realised that I was REALLY in Paris seeing places I had only read about, and was also hearing and still understanding the language I had learnt some 45 years ago. I was ecstatic!
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Sunday, 8 November 2015
2014 - my life long dream fulfilled
Day 1 - Sydney to Hong Kong
In late September 2014 I finally realised a long anticipated dream - to travel to Europe, especially to France, and more especially to Paris. My friend Wendy was my travelling companion and she brought along her well travelled friend TTTT (Trevor the Travelling Teddy.) In anticipation of boring friends with MILLIONS of photos on our return, I set up a Facebook page to share photos each day. This page was called Griswald Grannies Do Europe and was a great hit amongst our friends.
Trevor was ready before us, waiting patiently for Wendy's son Tim who was our trusty chauffeur to Sydney.

We stayed overnight in Sydney so that we could be at the airport with plenty of time to spare the next day.
While waiting to depart Wendy took some basic French lessons from Trevor. He told me she was a good student but needed to keep practising.
After what seemed like the longest day we arrived in Hong Kong and I began my photo frenzy, snapping pics of the amazing ultra modern Hong Kong airport.
A good night's sleep and a restful day in and around the hotel's luxury coffee shop prepared us for the next leg of our trip, overnight to London.
In late September 2014 I finally realised a long anticipated dream - to travel to Europe, especially to France, and more especially to Paris. My friend Wendy was my travelling companion and she brought along her well travelled friend TTTT (Trevor the Travelling Teddy.) In anticipation of boring friends with MILLIONS of photos on our return, I set up a Facebook page to share photos each day. This page was called Griswald Grannies Do Europe and was a great hit amongst our friends.
Trevor was ready before us, waiting patiently for Wendy's son Tim who was our trusty chauffeur to Sydney.
We stayed overnight in Sydney so that we could be at the airport with plenty of time to spare the next day.
While waiting to depart Wendy took some basic French lessons from Trevor. He told me she was a good student but needed to keep practising.
After what seemed like the longest day we arrived in Hong Kong and I began my photo frenzy, snapping pics of the amazing ultra modern Hong Kong airport.
We were labelled (in case we wandered off?), very efficiently collected and delivered safely by mini bus
to our beautiful hotel the Eaton.
Saturday, 7 November 2015
Best of GrandMarg's Blog week 3
| Celebrating three weeks of continuous blog posting |
Here's a brief run down of what you missed if you haven't yet discovered my website.
Day 16: Best of GrandMarg's Blog - week two(ish)
Day 17: Deep Sleep - written on a tired Friday
Day 18: Flowering succulent - photos of my beautiful cactus
Day 19: Language - addressing a writing prompt
Day 20: Spider webs - photos of spider webs taken this year
Day 21: Bus stop - how I hated going to school on the bus
In the next week I plan to combine writing and photos of my European trip last year, and by the time I have finished that my 30 days of blogging will be complete.
Never miss out on another blogpost, subscribe here. Please leave a comment if you like (or don't like) what you read on my blog :-)
Friday, 6 November 2015
Bus stop
I hated going to school as a young child, especially having to travel on the school bus– having to get onto the bus in front of so many others who often jeered at me, being squashed into the bus, sitting next to people I didn't like and didn't want to sit next to.
The bus was noisy and hot in summer and cold in winter; someone always seemed to be having ‘wars’ with someone else and there was always some ill feeling in the air.
************************************************************************
The timid six year old waited anxiously for the bus to arrive, fighting bravely against waves of dread at having to say goodbye to Dad or Mum. Getting on the already crowded bus packed with noisy kids who would invariably jeer or make fun of her was the biggest challenge she faced each school day. Every morning it was something different – the colour of her jumper, the shoes she wore, the size of her school bag, how her hair was parted – so she never knew what she could have done that day to try and avoid criticism.
She just wished that she didn't always feel so different to everyone else.
She just wished that she didn't always feel so different to everyone else.
Once she arrived at school the day would go smoothly, as she usually got top marks for her spelling and reading. However this also drew attention to her and gave her enemies more fodder for tomorrow’s teasing; but still she was never deterred from trying to always do her best.
Going home on the bus every afternoon was another harrowing experience to be endured. If she had had a successful day at school there would certainly be comments made about how ‘brainy’ she was, how she must read encyclopaedias for bedtime reading, how she was just being so smart to show everyone else up.
Somehow the half hour bus trip to her stop passed before the next hurdle came. Would someone be waiting to meet the bus or would they be running late?
If there was no one there to meet her she knew the ritual – get off the bus, and walk about 500 metres down the dusty country road to the first house where Mr & Mrs Byrnes lived.
It was a long lonely walk in the heat anxiously scouring the roadside for suspicious creatures and jumping at every rustle in the grass, but she knew that once she reached the house she would have fun waiting for Mum or Dad to pick her up.
Thursday, 5 November 2015
Spiderwebs...a little late for Halloween
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
Language
She continued to listen to her iPad,
trying to implant the once familiar French phrases into her subconscious. Each
phrase she heard made the language more real to her and she could see the words
written in her minds-eye.
This preparation was for the much anticipated trip to
Paris, another item to be crossed off her bucket list.
The plan had been to travel in June of the
next year, stay with the young people in London and then cross the Channel,
explore Paris and have a bus trip around France.
The savings plan went well for
a while but several unexpected expenses dented the nest egg and now she was
facing the prospect of having to defer the trip.
This was not a particular
concern to her as she preferred to travel when she had adequate money, but she
was dreading the disappointment in her son's voice when she had to tell him of
her changed plans.
2.12.12
Tuesday, 3 November 2015
Flowering succulent
Monday, 2 November 2015
Deep sleep
In a deep sleep
With endless dreams
Caught in the momentum
of continual dreaming
I know that I must wake soon.
Waking finally
I fight through depths of sleep
Until eyes finally open
And consciousness returns.
Dull headache
And hot wind outside
Make me grateful that today is Friday.
With endless dreams
Caught in the momentum
of continual dreaming
I know that I must wake soon.
Waking finally
I fight through depths of sleep
Until eyes finally open
And consciousness returns.
Dull headache
And hot wind outside
Make me grateful that today is Friday.
8.11.13
Sunday, 1 November 2015
Best of GrandMarg's Blog - week two(ish)
This week I have kept up with the 30 Day Blogging Challenge by posting every single day, I have revamped my blog page trying out a new look and I have started to alternate photos and writing in keeping with my new look page.
Here's a brief rundown of what you missed if you haven't yet discovered my website.
Day 11: Seven word Sunday (on Tuesday)-my attempts at writing Small Stones
Day 12: Spring comes to the garden - 6 photos of our Spring garden
Day 13: My slow but steady fitness quest - how I am starting to walk more frequently
Day 14: Day 14, more flowers - some more photos of our garden
Day 15:Albert Hall Canberra 1944 - how I imagine my parents met
Never miss out on another blogpost, subscribe here. Please leave a comment if you like (or don't like) what you read on my blog :-)
Here's a brief rundown of what you missed if you haven't yet discovered my website.
Day 11: Seven word Sunday (on Tuesday)-my attempts at writing Small Stones
Day 12: Spring comes to the garden - 6 photos of our Spring garden
Day 13: My slow but steady fitness quest - how I am starting to walk more frequently
Day 14: Day 14, more flowers - some more photos of our garden
Day 15:Albert Hall Canberra 1944 - how I imagine my parents met
Never miss out on another blogpost, subscribe here. Please leave a comment if you like (or don't like) what you read on my blog :-)
Saturday, 31 October 2015
Albert Hall, Canberra 1944
Albert Hall was early Canberra’s community hall. Situated
near the Hotel Canberra where many politicians and public servants lived, it
was the city’s venue for school concerts, flower shows, live dramatic
performances, the annual Winter Ball as well as Saturday night dances.
The warmth of the hall was welcoming after the chill wind
outside. As usual, the ladies of the Women’s Comfort Fund had done a wonderful
job of decorating with crepe paper streamers and balloons. The dance floor
gleamed after its last application of sawdust. Trestle tables around the edges
of the hall groaned with the abundance of supper food and large teapots were
already filled in anticipation of thirsty crowds.
The young nineteen year old woman sat out a couple of dances on the pretext that her
twisted ankle from that afternoon’s hockey match was still bothering her, but she
was really wondering whether coming tonight was such a good idea. Last year she
and Vera had been regulars at the Saturday night Services Dance but this was her
first night out since her brother had been shot down over Germany. Even though she still felt guilty about leaving them, her parents had insisted she go so she
went with Vera and a group of other friends from work.
A small group of young RAAF boys approached and one of them,
tall and handsome, shyly asked her for a dance. He seemed so ill at ease
that she took pity on him and agreed. Dancing was obviously not his forte and
he continually apologised for his poor skills but the dance floor was so
crowded that she heard only a few of his excuses.
When the bracket finished she thankfully sat down and
enjoyed just talking with him. Alick confided his continual homesickness, how much
he missed his family and the farm routines, and how he longed to travel overseas
with the RAAF.
She responded by talking, haltingly, about her big brother;
how he’d gone off to Canada and then England to join the RAF and be a
navigator, and how the telegram that came last August had changed her life
forever. Now she lived in a house weighed down with grief where she felt that
she should be in perpetual mourning and she worried that her elderly parents would
never smile again.
The supper break came and went and the young couple
continued to chat. She knew that this was a man she wanted to get to know
better and Alick was quietly surprised that this sophisticated city girl was
interested in listening to his stories.
All too soon the evening came to an end and they parted with
promises to meet at next week’s dance. She and the other girls piled on to
the 10.30 bus as the young airmen set off on their long walk back across the
river flats to Fairbairn RAAF Base.
After that night she was again a regular dance-goer but
she always refused to dance until 20 year old Alick arrived. He was always
relieved when he reached the hall with his mates and saw her face light
up when she saw him.
Friday, 30 October 2015
Day 14 - more flowers
This is a selection of photos of flowers taken over this year.
This beautiful pink ruffled rose flowered earlier this year.
I bought a bag of tulip bulbs in April and planted them. This was one of the successful blooms.

Our daffodils desperately need dividing and replanting - this was the only one that flowered and surprised us.
This beautiful pink ruffled rose flowered earlier this year.
I bought a bag of tulip bulbs in April and planted them. This was one of the successful blooms.
This white tulip was the only other one that flowered. I must make sure I divide the bulbs and store them carefully before replanting for next winter/spring.
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| The pansies tried hard all winter but I think they have now given up the ghost. Next year I will plant more clumps or more in pots for a better effect. |
Thursday, 29 October 2015
My slow but steady fitness quest
Since mid-August I have been trying to ease myself into a healthier routine because the aches and pains have become more prevalent and I found that Chair Yoga was straining my back too much. I finally decided to start a regular program of walking - one of my least favourite past times - and this is how I have done it so far.
At first I pledged to myself that I would walk at least twice a week for 20 minutes at a time, and I did that on Tuesdays and Thursdays for 4 weeks. Then I increased to three times a week on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and I did that for the next 4 weeks. Now I have moved on to walking every other day of the week, still for only 20 minutes a day, and I will do that for the next 4 weeks.
Once I have established a routine of walking every other day no matter what, I may try to extend it to 30 minutes a time, but I don't want to over-extend myself. In the past I have been over-enthusiastic, tried to do too much exercise too quickly, exhausted myself and given up.
I made a few little rules to keep me honest, such as, if I miss a day because of bad weather or lack of time I have to make it up the next day, and so far I have kept to that plan.I also allow myself the smug satisfaction of recording in my diary when I walked, how long I walked and sometimes a note of where I actually walked, and that definitely works for me.
I have found that walking as soon as I get home from work and before lunch is usually the best time for me: I mentally prepare myself on the 10 minute drive home and by the time I arrive I am motivated to walk. Also, the thought of lunch always spurs me on to do my 20 minutes as soon as possible. I know that if I put off the walking until after lunch it would be much easier to find excuses not to go.
So far I have been a tentative walker, rarely venturing far from home, content to stick to familiar paths, but I feel I am becoming more adventurous as my walking confidence builds. Today I even found myself imagining a walk along the banks of the Wollondilly River, something quite out of my comfort zone, but now that I have thought about it I may well do it one day. The walk I am thinking about follows the riverbank from Marsden Weir to Riversdale, definitely not the full 18kms described here.
At first I pledged to myself that I would walk at least twice a week for 20 minutes at a time, and I did that on Tuesdays and Thursdays for 4 weeks. Then I increased to three times a week on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and I did that for the next 4 weeks. Now I have moved on to walking every other day of the week, still for only 20 minutes a day, and I will do that for the next 4 weeks.
Once I have established a routine of walking every other day no matter what, I may try to extend it to 30 minutes a time, but I don't want to over-extend myself. In the past I have been over-enthusiastic, tried to do too much exercise too quickly, exhausted myself and given up.
I made a few little rules to keep me honest, such as, if I miss a day because of bad weather or lack of time I have to make it up the next day, and so far I have kept to that plan.I also allow myself the smug satisfaction of recording in my diary when I walked, how long I walked and sometimes a note of where I actually walked, and that definitely works for me.
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| An added bonus of my walking regime is that I can watch these grafted white and pink blossoms come into flower. |
I have found that walking as soon as I get home from work and before lunch is usually the best time for me: I mentally prepare myself on the 10 minute drive home and by the time I arrive I am motivated to walk. Also, the thought of lunch always spurs me on to do my 20 minutes as soon as possible. I know that if I put off the walking until after lunch it would be much easier to find excuses not to go.
So far I have been a tentative walker, rarely venturing far from home, content to stick to familiar paths, but I feel I am becoming more adventurous as my walking confidence builds. Today I even found myself imagining a walk along the banks of the Wollondilly River, something quite out of my comfort zone, but now that I have thought about it I may well do it one day. The walk I am thinking about follows the riverbank from Marsden Weir to Riversdale, definitely not the full 18kms described here.
Wednesday, 28 October 2015
Spring comes to the garden - 6 photos to celebrate
This week I have decided to try and vary my blog posts by interspersing writing with recent photos. Hopefully this will add interest to my blog and allow me to showcase some of my other creative interests.
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| The wisteria flowered early and made a beautiful display |
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| The Chinese Weeping Elm has gone from strength to strength as well |
The garden is rapidly coming to life after a particularly cold winter (including snow!) and I have enjoyed taking photos as the flowers begin to bloom.
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| Apple blossoms taken in early October |
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| Another view of the same apple blossoms |
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| A wide awake daisy, October 2015 |
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| This photo took a long time to take. I had to fight not only a flighty bee but also an annoying breeze that kept swishing the lavender stalks as I snapped. |
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
Seven word Sunday (on Tuesday)
Gray sky and rain
Glimpsed through skylight.
Flag flaps on building as storm builds.
Music as background to idle cafe chatter.
Red waratahs contrast
With green agapanthus leaves.
Kitchen clatter signals
It's nearly closing time.
11.11.13
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