Learning to be Highly Effective - Ha!

We have just returned from town and baby is now sleeping snugly in her "mamma's cot" - still in our bedroom from her sleepover - more than a fortnight ago.  The Machinist has to shimmy around the cot to get to his side of the bed.  Most nights he says "we'll have to move the cot back to the other room, Babe".  We both agree on this, but still - it remains.  Because our room is closest to the living rooms, it is warmer and more convenient, I tell myself.  Others smile knowingly.

In other news - I am a flirt.  I flirt most days, in all areas of life.  I can't help myself. 

I confessed this to the Machinist the other day as we were sorting out his office.  He was / is so grateful to me for setting up systems within his space.  He thinks I'm fab, but he didn't know that I had / have my own struggles -  being able to focus on only ONE THING AT A TIME.  Most of my undertakings stretch on because of this fact.  I'm told that mom's (and business people) have to learn (unless they're that way inclined anyway) to multi-task.  I still have not mastered this as yet.  I don't hold much hope to do so, either.

And so - what happens is - I focus on one endeavour with such intensity, with such passion and then suddenly realise that other tasks are building up.  Tasks which can't wait. 

I am currently listening to an Audibles book by Stephen Covey entitled "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People".  I would gladly get rid of all my other 'self help' type of books for this one only (even though I am tempted to buy the next book in the series; "The Eighth Habit").  I'm only on Habit Three, and already I am much 'enlightened'.

I've even recognised the Machinist to be in Quadrant One: the Important and Urgent quadrant, while I am a Quadrant Three type of girl - the Urgent (to me.  I think.  I'm sure), but not Important on the scheme of things.  (The business.  The Family.  The World).  

We both need to acquire balance and find ourselves in Quadrant Two: Important, not Urgent. 

This, apparently, is the key to Effectiveness.  

And so - I am learning....It won't happen overnight, but....it will happen!

Keiralea Ann

So much life, growth and change between posts!  She is my love, my blessed life vocation.  And she knows it.  

Love from Mamma x

The Machinist Takes An Afternoon Off

The Machinist's first observation as I walked into the office were my new blue shoes.  "Oh I liiiike theeem, Babe.  You look too hot to handle!"

"I love the colour, but they hurt a bit - just on the top" I slid my forefinger between plump upper foot and shoe, demonstrating the exact area of discomfort. 

"Oh don't worry about that, I can fix it with a soft hammer..."

I'm still perplexed as to what a soft hammer actually is.  

Later in the day, there was rain, - followed by furious hail.  We were scheduled to deliver newly manufactured laundry skips to The Canberra Hospital.  Despite each skip being polished and sealed in plastic wrap, the Machinist didn't want to deliver in the wet weather.  

With his main task thwarted,  he gave himself the rest of the day off 

("...and with having no battles on at the moment, he gave his lads the day off..." - from The Battle of Hastings)

As we walked down the Christmas isle in Costco (can't resist) a thought came to mind:  There is nothing like a grandchild to bring back the joy of Christmas.

Later, dinner and movies added to the excitement of the Season.

Bats and Black Outs

After arriving home late after visiting the Grands in their new home, I thought it would be very disciplined and organised of me to go straight to the office in the Machine shop and complete some bookwork before going inside the house.  The Machinist was making some end-of-day calls next door.  Bob was crying to go inside.  Or be fussed.  Or fed.  I plumped up his cushion and told him to "go cushion", and he gave me 'those' eyes, but obeyed nevertheless.

The Machinist came in and sat on the chair next to me.  "Ready to go in, Babe?"

"Nearly"

And then - a power cut.  The computer, the heater - both off.  And yet... the lights were still on.

"If you go out of the front, I'll lock up behind you and come in the back door"

I went to the car to fetch a few items and lock it.  By then, the house and workshops were in darkness.  The sky was black.  And it was cold.

The front door opened and the Machinist shouted to me "Don't come in - there's another bat loose in the house!"

Don't come in?

Wow, he made it quickly through the garden, tip-toeing and avoiding the fuss, grunts and slobbery of the other dogs, through the house, locate the torch and out of the front door...

Don't come in?

There's another bat loose in the hooooose....

Another bat?

Whaaaat?

The phone rang.  Fumbling through my bag and vowing to empty it (again) really soon, I answer the call.  Our Sam.

"Are your lights out, too?" he asks
"Yep"
"I'll be down in a minute"
"Ok"

Then another call.  Our Sarah.
"Electricity off?"
"Yes, and there is another bat in the house"
"Whaaaat?"

Sarah and Cam pull in the driveway.  I climb in the back of their car as Cam jumps out the driver's seat, determined to help with bat eradication.  Sarah and I swap bat fearing stories and sentiments when the other rear door opens and Sam slides in next to me.

"Not going in to help with the bat?" I ask
"No way!"

In due course, the bat had gone and we went inside to a kitchen lit with candles and the aroma of roast beef.

Sitting down to dinner, with the dim light shining on his cheerful face, Sam declared "Well, I thought tonight would be a bit of a downer, but this dinner has cheered me right up!"

A Day In The Life of The Machinist's Wife

While feeding the baby her porridge, on the morning after her sleepover, - a terrible smell filled the dining room.

"is it the baby?" asks Sarah..
"No, she's clean.  What about the mother dog?" I ask..

On inspection, we discover that Pepi had a terrible mess going on in her undercarriage which needed our attention -and fast!

Cam fetched the wheelbarrow, Sarah donned gloves, I brought out the hot water.  Pepi sat in the water while Sarah washed her as I held her.  Baby wanted to see what was going on and we had to distract her when she got too close to Pepi's splashes.

The phone rang.  Machinist came around the corner from the Machine shop.  "It's your mom, Helen" (Helen!).."..the movers won't pack their stuff.  They need everything to be in boxes and your mom wants to know if anyone in town has any boxes they don't want..."

Hayley arrived to pick up Baby.  Sarah and I made a dash to the Grand's cottage.  It didn't look as if there was a lot of moving house going on that day.  It looked like, and was - a removalist's nightmare.  Small tubs, without lids.  Buckets oozing their wares.  Large tubs with lids - heavy and cracking with the weight they were bearing.  A few flimsy cardboard boxes with an occasional content marker.  Sturdy boxes - half empty waiting 'last minute items'.

There's a fine line between aged parent independence and necessary action for the good of all.  The Greater Good.

Emma confided in Grandpa to leave the key under a pot at their new home, while she took the Grands for lunch and coffee.  Sarah and I moved swiftly.  Very swiftly.

Kitchen unpacked
Pantry and fridge stocked
Beds made
Clothes away
Correct distribution of tubs and wares
Removal of empty vessels and other rubbish
TV set up

And then, an impulsive but necessary turn into McDonalds drive through (uugh) for a large coke and fries.  Diet tomorrow.

On arriving home, and after his meal, the Machinist asks..."Babe, come with me..." (Babe!)..."I've got something to show you".

I follow him to the kitchen, where he collects the torch.  I follow him outside towards the Fabrication shop.  "Look there!"

He spotlights a BRAND NEW FENCE.  But oh!  This is not only a lovely, high (privacy) beautifully fitted and welded fence partnered with a well hung and hinged gate.  It is a SNAKE PROOF FENCE.

Aaahhh... Romance.

Later that evening, the Machinist and I are lounging back in soft brown leather recliners, sipping cold drinks and basically - living it large.  We are watching a Very Scary Movie about alien invasion (the "Greys", FYI).  We retire to bed and just as we are falling asleep - a sudden distinct thumping noise.  Then again.  And again.

The Machinist gets out of bed to check what's amiss.  He's gone for a while, as I lay there and wonder if he has been abducted.  Then he comes back to bed, lifts the covers, slides in...

"What was the noise?" I ask
"Oh, it was Emma.  She had a bat in her room and I helped her guide it out the back door..."

A bat.  A BAT.  A BAAAAAT!

Thoughts on Sarah & Cameron's Wedding

It is nearly three months since the (rush) and joy of Sarah and Cameron's wedding.  It was beautiful, yet bittersweet; - a sense of loss and grief at the thought of 'losing' Sarah to Cameron (which is TOTALLY not the case and which I've learned is a common parental emotion) and yet - gain by the addition of another son, as well as a couple.  Sarah and Cameron became an entity: The Couple.

 When they left for their honeymoon,  I remember thinking of our daughter as going away and becoming a changeling, and yet - on their return, I realised how silly I had been and that she was the same, as was her husband, Cam.  They were the same; it was me who expected their change.  They were still the children, as they had always been, expecting us, their parents to - well - parent as we had always done - with the same attitudes and methods as we'd always used.  I, on the other hand had expected some type of change from them so much, that my own fathoming had changed me and I became the Changelings - towards them.

  

How confused and bewildered they must have been....(I'm confused and bewildered as I try to explain all of this.)

Sarah and I had a heartfelt discussion about this late one night.  We cried together.  And then, as quickly as this strange and yet common phenomena came upon us, it was gone, and family life, as we know it - had resumed. 

To normal. 

Well, as normal as normal is.

And so much normality has happened since.

Thank goodness.

The End.

Workshop

It’s early in the morning – dark outside and the house is quiet, other than the odd creak as old roof wood contracts - stretching it’s corrugated tin counterpart.  Sometimes, there’s a scurrying – probably a field mouse and I always wonder how they get up there. 

When the westerly winds blow, and there is a constant chill my thoughts are towards my family in the Workshop.  I’ve started a ritual of toasted crumpets with loads of melted butter and a swirling of maple syrup.  With one hand, I pull open the huge door.  Sparks are flying!  Grinders are whizzing!  And then… with the sudden disturbance and rush of cold air, the inhabitants – oftentimes in sync – lift their welding helmets or take off their goggles to see who is entering.  Their curiosity is further piqued when they see a plate in my hand. 

 Emma - working the CAD

 The Machinist - deep in concentration while using the milling machine

 Sarah - grinding

 Cameron - not sure what he is doing

 Sam - not sure what he is doing either

I walk between them and their crooning necks to the rear of the workshop, to let the Machinist know that there is something for morning tea.  “I don’t want you spoiling them, Babe..” he tells me, as he smiles and grabs one of the offerings, minding not to drip the sweet syrup over his hand or overalls. 

Today, there will be no treats as Emma and I will be setting out to Sydney soon.  We have to pick up a job from a sub-contractor and bring it back to the Machinist – post haste – for him to work his magic and meet an (unexpected) deadline.  All of our other children (ahem – young adults – YA YA’s) will be working long hours this weekend.  Hayley will be taking good care of our cherished Keiralea. 

Sarah and Cameron’s wedding is just over two weeks from today.  The brand new workshop we are currently building will be the venue for their reception – before the Machinist fills it with equipment.  And so – a wedding reception in a building which is, as I write – not yet built.

This is typical of our family; thirteenth hour chaos, then calm. 

As the Machinist says “It’ll all be good, Babe.  We always deliver”

AN UPCOMING WEDDING

Life in Review:

The workshop is being built.  What I haven't mentioned is that Workshop B is to be the venue for our Sarah and Cameron's wedding reception.  The thing is - it hasn't even been built yet, even though it is in the process of being built. 

Their wedding day?  THE SECOND OF JUNE.

THIS YEAR.

Can you feel it?  Can you feel the urgency?  The angst?

And yet, in my heart of hearts, I know it will be ok.  It will be beautiful and it will all be ok. 

The Way It Is.

A lamb appeared in our garden late yesterday afternoon.  It was breathing heavily, and had sought rest between the two photinia robustas.   The lamb's woolly neck was blood stained, and yet - he was standing firmly, - alerted to our presence (Emma and myself, with grand-baba Keiralea in my arms). Just then, a huge Rottweiler also appeared and paused in it's tracks, head tilted back staring at us almost arrogantly (he reminded me of a scene from "Cujo").  Then there was the Machinist's voice behind me "Get inside, Helen, both of you - get away from that dog..."

The Machinist called the farmer who owned the lamb, and alerted the neighbour who owned the dog.  Although it wasn't one of the farmer's flock, he took it away....

You can imagine our delight and joy, then, when we learned that the lamb had been stitched, pain killers and antibiotics had been administered and the lamb is currently doing well in his "parents" shed.

We later heard that the owner of the dog had taken his pet to be euthanised

Growth

It is the eve before they start building our new Workshop.  The Machinist has, for the most part, prepared all he can before the builders' arrival.  He and the lads have moved tons and tons of soil and roadbase, in efforts to heighten the land which runs alongside our house on which the Workshop will 'sit'.  A pad, if you will. 

I have meant to take many photos of the paddocks beyond our land.  When we stand on the back deck, we can see such beauty for miles, it seems.  The willows, the tussocks, the variety of gum trees, the hills and my favourite scene of all and one which I've posted on before - the three dead trees which look as if they are performing modern dance, while having an air of the wise prophets of old.  Very soon, this view will no longer be. 

Instead, a growing business.  A family legacy.  Scary, yet challenging.  Challenging, yet scary.  Like many before us, everything on the line. 

But by the Grace of God go I (we).

HURRY UP .... AND WAIT....

After many fantasies and good intentions of blogging regularly I am left with a sense of disappointment towards self.  I say to myself  "Self, - even if the blog post turns out crappy - just pull your head in and do it.."

I speak tough, acquire a new verve, then go on to view the blog posts of others or take a (s)troll on Facebook.

Many wild and spontaneous adventures with the local Council are always up for grabs.  These adventures make me feel drained and sad.  But then,  in a moment of clarity, I rob myself of the right to feel self pity over such trivialities when the rest of life is so BIG. 

These thoughts and feelings are like foreigners to me.  So is the urge to rebel. 

I might go and play 80's One Hit Wonders - full volume.

There!

We may be on the verge of being granted a Construction Certificate, so that we can start building the second Workshop.  The Machinist has hired a shipping container to store equipment until the structure is up and concreted.  In the meantime, out of working hours, the girls and I are painting the house, as you do when you are in-waiting. Very soon it really will be 'all systems - GO!'