The end of a relationship.

My head's been a monkey lately, quietened only by Valium. I wrote a post a few days ago, and forgot to publish it. All water under the bridge now.

Yesterday was the last day of our capoeira batizado or grading festival. I wasn't going to go, but when I woke up, it was a beautiful day, and so I did.

 Darling Harbour, where the grading was held.

The festival lasted about 3 hours. I felt like a fish out of water. 3 hours is a long time to flop around gasping. Surrounded by my happy fellow students of capoeira, excitement and expectation on their faces, freshly dyed new cords around their waists, I did my best to clap, sing and dance along, but the truth is, I felt morose, nostalgic and old. I couldn't decide if it was harder watching my friends do moves I've never been able to master, or moves I used to do easily and no longer can. It seemed like an age since I felt their bliss.

I started training capoeira almost 11 years ago. I estimate a good 3 years of that was spent recovering from injuries and surgeries. I always joke that my body hurt less when I was drinking 7 days a week, smoking a pack a day, drinking red bull on all nighters at the studio, and the only exercise I got was clubbing.

But I have zero regrets. I might have 2 bum knees now and will never trek Machu Picchu but capoeira gave me a lot more than it took. On a physical level, it improved my reflexes, coordination, spatial awareness, peripheral vision and balance which, I'll have you know, is very useful for scrubbing my toes while standing on one leg in a soapy wet bath tub. All good things for an older person, no doubt about it. 

On a mental level, it made me face some fears, and while I didn't conquer all of them, I think I made a dent. I learnt how to sing in Portuguese and in public, a very useful skill I'm sure you'll agree, and how to play 4 new musical instruments. Best of all, for the first time since I stopped working 14 years ago, I felt part of a community, met some good people, made some friends, discovered Brazilian churrasco, pão de queijo, feijoada (all food, in case you're wondering), and re-kindled a childhood love of and interest in South America.

I told Cushion before the batizado started that this would be my last one. To my surprise, for someone who laughed at and sometimes ridiculed my obsession with the game (and rightly so, in retrospect), he said he was proud that I had lasted 11 years. That made me sniffle. He didn't think I would even finish the 8 week beginner course. Considering I couldn't do 5 push ups when I started and have the attention span of a gnat, I totally understand why he would have thought that. I have to take this opportunity to thank him for his patience. While I'm at it, I suppose I should apologise to my neighbours for pounding the atabaque 

 and wailing away to the berimbau

for hours on end.


I have to say, I'm proud of myself for making it this far. I'm also disappointed that I only made it this far. 

But I know it's time to hang up my belts, or maybe bin them like my friend Chapeuzinho. I'll still be playing in the park. If I'm lucky, maybe Astro, Cleopatra, Falcao, Sorriso, Louva Deus, Rogue, De'Ouro and other friends who left before me will play with me. Or maybe I'll play by myself at the gym, why not? It's always fun to amuse the other gym members. I still hope to attend classes with my mestre when time allows. But I think I finally understand what the bum knees, hyper-extended fingers, stiff neck, torn quadriceps, sore wrist, fractured rib, fractured toe and split eye have been trying to tell me for years.

And so I thank capoeira for its last and greatest lesson. Accepting that what you want to do and what you can do aren't always the same and that's okay. 

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I know most of you reading this won't have a clue what I'm rabbiting on about today but I just had to get the hum out of my head. Please feel no obligation to comment. I'm sorry I haven't been visiting. With just a week to go before we leave for New Zealand, I can't even promise to find the time to visit but I hope you're all well. I will try to do an update on the girl whose blog this is before we leave. She seems a bit stressed too, no doubt recognising the backpacks now lying in the guest room waiting to be filled. I miss our conversations, more than you can imagine. 

The Typist X


P.S. Parabéns to all my capoeira friends who got their new belts, especially Mandioca! I know you might be reading this, you're the only who does ;) Well done girl! I'm so proud of you.

"Come on, Typist! How about we move on from this nauseating display of self-pity and snuggle instead?"

How to use water like a Rwandan.

Cushion just spoke to my brother in Brisbane. Apparently, the water board called to inform him that his weekly water consumption had jumped from 80 litres to 400. Did he have a leak, by any chance?

No, dear Mr Water Board Man. It was just Cushion, Georgia and me on holiday.

My brother is a frugal water user. He has a rainwater tank as well but 80 litres is pretty much the amount of piped town water than he uses in a week. I'm sure it's a meagre number, even for a 1 person household. 

Chart from HERE.
In fact, based on this chart, my brother uses just a little more water per day than the average Rwandan.

In our defence, we did a lot of cooking, cleaning and laundry in the 10 days we were with him. Not to mention, 1 laundry load for Georgia, 2 baths after swimming at muddy Nudgee, and a tub of water for cooling down after walks.

Dogs can and do account for a lot of water usage.

Ideally, Georgia would get a bath no more than once a fortnight. Unfortunately, she has dermatitis and allergies, so we end up hosing her down after almost every walk. Add that to her over-active anal glands, swims in muddy water and predilection for rolling on dead things, and she's actually likely to have a bath every week.

Our water bill went down immediately after Rufus died. He was a giant dog with a lot of fur, and was both #1 and #2 incontinent towards the end. I did a lot of cleaning after him. Soiled sheets, towels, floor, butt. 

It's amazing how quickly it all added up.

Doing laundry, the Uncle E method.

I'm not sure why my brother tops up his washing machine this way, maybe to make sure it's just enough water to cover the clothes?

Rinsing is done with rainwater from his tank. I'm afraid that tank got quite depleted during our stay. 

Grey water from the wash then gives his yard a good soaking. No lawn there! Lots of unswept leaf litter and mulching.

Notice how dirty Georgia's tub of cooling-off water is? It turned brown within a day from all the flower and leaf litter but I wasn't allowed to change it. I did suggest it, but backed off after a truly menacing glare from my brother. Instead, every morning, I used a little sieve to remove the litter and dead insects. Voila! Worked just as well. Lesson learned.

We learnt a great way to save water from my frugal brother! which thrills my frugal husband! because he's been ranting about my water wasting ways for years. Danger! You are now entering a smug zone!

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Mellow yellow. I hope you know what this means because I do not want to go into details. Cushion reckons the flush is one of the biggest water wasters, despite the fact that we have half-flush toilets. So now, we follow the mellow yellow rule. My only proviso...last person to go to bed must flush. I draw the line at funky smells first thing in the morning.

And here are a few other water saving ideas we've been working on -
. We changed all our tap heads from twist to flick. 

I still prefer this look but... 


Pic from HERE.

...I've never regretted changing over.

We did this a few years back. I think it was a great investment. However soapy, bloody or oily my hands are, I can turn the taps on and off with a nudge. I'm now so used to washing without running water, when I heard water gushing from a bathroom tap on telly a few days ago [I think it was an episode of Homeland Season 1], I had a major cringe.

. We turn the tap off when soaping or shampooing in the shower, and turn it back on to rinse. Easier in summer than winter, no doubt.

. We never turn a tap on full. Because. it's. not. necessary! Unless you have a stubborn booger stuck in the basin.

. The floor gets mopped only when it looks like it needs it, instead of 2 times a week. [My personal favourite.]

. The car gets washed only when it's cocooned with cobwebs, the bird poop on the bonnet has solidified or the neighbours are looking at us funny.

. I don't water the garden every day, but I give it a good soaking when I do. There are water restrictions in place in many parts of Australia. Here in Sydney, we're not allowed sprinklers, trigger nozzles are a must, and watering has to be done before 10 or after 4. 

Georgia's stale drinking water, leftover bath water, and water from rinsing fruit, vegies or rice also gets tossed into the flower pots. My nanny used to pour water from cleaning fish into the garden beds. It stank, as you can imagine, but it must have been good for the plants because that garden was lush!

Learning how to save water is a work-in-progress for me. I've discovered it can be both a challenge and fun, and I can't wait to see our next water bill and usage figures!

Do you have any other water saving ideas to share? 

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We looked into getting a water tank some years back, but there's not enough space in our little courtyard. 

"Are you sure, Typist? They come in all shapes and sizes, y'know."

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And if only we could put in a composting toilet, like this one at our little cabin in the Byron hinterland. 

The picture right at the top of this post, is the bucket of wood shavings that was sitting next to the loo. However frightening this sounds, I can assure you there was zero smell emanating from this toilet. ZERO! And I have a pretty good snout.

What do you think goes into the wheelie bin below the toilet? 

The hose is the venting system. The PET bottle is  for drawing bugs to the light, which can then be released, if you're so inclined. 

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While we're at it, some reading... 
. Water restrictions in Australia.

. Sydney Water's Water Wise Rules.

. A mighty interesting Challenge.
Excerpt: "...Americans consume an average of 575 liters of water a day, while many Rwandans, who have to walk miles to collect their water, only consume 10."

. A post from Kirsten that I've wanted to share since reading. Not exactly about water, but definitely in the ball park. She's inspiring.

. And lastly, a post from a lady whose entire annual household budget for clothing is $100. Clearly, I have a lot to learn about living a frugal life.

And in the end.

What a self-indulgent trip down memory lane that was for me! From your comments over the last week, I think the images triggered some memories for you too. I hope you had as much fun as I did.

I'll just leave you with a few more random bits and pieces that I found after my last post. 

Recognise anything?

I'm done with the past now and ready to look forward. Thanks again for reading, and have a great weekend wherever you are X




P.S. Anyone remember The Dog? I think she's quite anxious to tell you a couple of stories. Same place next week perhaps? Till then :)

Photos.

After careful weeding, we now have 5 albums and 3 baskets of photos left. That's a good half gone.

I've been debating whether to scan the ones that are left, save them on the computer and chuck the real things. It would certainly save a lot of space. 

I was a baby when we had this dog whose name I do not know.

But there's nothing like photos you can actually hold in your hands, that get crumpled if you're not careful, and that turn brown with age. In fact, if you ask me, the spottiness just makes them more attractive.

Here is my very 1st dog, Cookie. I always thought I had a picture of him looking at me, his bum to camera. I haven't seen that anywhere, which is worrying and I'd forgotten all about this one.

Cookie wasn't a big dog. He just looks that way here because I was smaller then, somewhere around 9 or 10 years old at a guess. 

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As Cookie grew older, and because I nagged and begged him, my father got another dog to add to the family. Her name was Shandy. She was a boxer, not too big, and was fawn coloured with a white star on her forehead. She was possibly the most gentle dog we had. 

A few months after we got Shandy, and for reasons unknown, my father decided to get a little dachshund. He was black and tan and arrived in a box labelled PLEASE TAKE GOOD CARE OF ME. He'd travelled on a train from another town. He was tiny and was predictably named Mickey.

The thing I most remember about Shandy is how maternal she was, even though she must have been less than a year old then. Being so small, Mickey was kept in a pen in the shed for safety. He wasn't too happy about that and howled away. Shandy insisted on keeping him company and would sleep with him every night. 

She was a lovely dog. I wish I knew her better. She died prematurely from cancer.

The thing I most remember about Mickey is hauling him up to my tree house in a basket while Cookie and Shandy went berserk below. He obviously didn't have vertigo issues. Mickey was an excellent ratter and once caught a very pregnant one. As I stood by admiring his handiwork, a baby rat got squeezed out of mama rat in his jaws. I guess I wasn't a squeamish child. Mickey had jaundice later in life and also died prematurely.

I'm still finding it hard to believe I have NO pictures of Shandy and Mickey to show you. Not a single one.

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I don't think I've ever told you about Pepper. 

"Is it dinner time yet?"

We got him when I was about 16. He was 1 of a litter of labrador pups born just down the road from where we lived. 

Pepper loved water and would stand in front of the garden hose every time we watered the plants. He had a pretty good vocabulary and could pick out objects like stick, newspaper, bowl and different toys. Every morning, he would fetch the newspaper from the gate for my father. He was excellent at finding things and people, and hide and seek was his favourite game. 

I left for uni when Pepper was about 4. I think he must have been quite lonely. My parents and nanny were old and wouldn't have played with him as much as I did. 

Pepper's downfall was food. We weren't good at controlling his diet, he got fat and his legs started to give way. Although my parents then put him on a diet, I guess it was too late.

"Are you sure it isn't dinner time yet?"

I'd already started working [in another city] when I heard that Pepper's paws had started to rot from the effort of supporting his weight. [I wonder if that's true, as it sounds quite odd to me now.] It got to a point where he had to be carried about. It was just too much for the old folk to handle, so Pepper was put to sleep.

He must have been about 8 or 9. Young still.

This little one is Caliph. 

He was the 1st dog Cushion and I had as a couple, and the 1st and last dog we'll ever get from a breeder. He had a piece of paper, champion parents, and a fancy long name but I no longer remember what it was.

Though he looks like a sweetie here, Caliph was aggressive and would try to bite us if we approached him at feeding time. It was a bit shocking to see a snarling, snapping 3 month old puppy. But we loved him and did the best we could to make him happy.

Caliph died when he was only 8 months old from parvovirus, despite being up to date with his shots. I remember his last 24 hours very well because I was with him as he purged from both ends and had blood transfusions with blood from the vet's own dog. I'll never forget the smell. 

I was supposed to go for my driving test that day and never made it. I still don't have a driver's licence. [I'm sure Cushion will say that's no excuse.]

Of course, you've met Farouk and Jehan.

And Jordan and Rufus.

Despite having thousands of photos of Georgia, we don't have a single one we can hold in our hands.

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Here are a few other favourite photos I'd like to share which have nothing to do with dogs.

I'll be keeping these too.

Malaysia.

These were taken in Chinatown in Kuala Lumpur.

I love chestnuts and look forward to them every winter. I roast mine in the oven. I wish they tasted like the roasted chestnuts in the picture below! 

I'm not sure what the man is roasting them in but I think it may be coffee beans. That's what it smells like. The chestnuts have that flavour in them and are divine.

India.

These were taken in Rajasthan.

I love this sign! I think it's for a dentist.

This man was cycling to pump petrol for his van. How cool is that?

I like taking photos of people when I travel, much more than landmarks. Although I don't know any of the people who were photographed here, I wonder where they are now and if their lives have changed.

Nepal.

These were taken in Kathmandu and Pakora.

I like photographing animals too. 

Even dead ones.

Looking through my photos over the last week has made me realise what a lucky girl I am.

In a small plane over the Himalayas.

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Once again, thank you for keeping me company this week! My question for today -

What are some of the photos that would describe your life? If you have a blog, maybe you could post and share them. I'd love, love, LOVE to see them :) X

Stationery.

I don't know how long I've kept this. Decades for sure, because it reminds me of Sister 2.

I'm Linus and Lucy is Sister 2.

I can hear you thinking... "she has that much stationery to sort through, she can do a whole post on it? Come on!"

Letter writing pads from days when I wrote letters.

Oh yes, I do. And yes, I can. 

My father wasn't around when I was born. He was gallivanting around Asia and Europe with some buddies. To be fair, it was a trip of a lifetime for him, and I'm sure he had at least 1 good reason why it couldn't be postponed. 

Legend has it, my mother joined him a month or so after I was born [presumably after she'd recovered enough to wear a cossie and ride a camel]. 

Being #4 [and an accident], I think my parents were just a little over babies.

It's not like they forgot us though! They sent a lot of postcards.[Remember - this was way, waaaaaay before emails and mobile phones.] 

And those postcards are what is in the can.

I could tell you what year they were sent, but then I'd have to kill you. Suffice to say, it was in the 50s.

The little Dutch girl postcard is very cool. Those are real threads on the skirt.

There were souvenir booklets and pamphlets as well.

More postcards, from later travels around Australia. A couple of these were from Sister 1.

Toowoomba! Seriously?

I don't remember much about these old postcards below, but they're rather sweet.

 Does anyone recognise the drawings?

They're Hallmark cards, illustrated by Betsey Clark.

And, from the 70s...envelopes!

 I love these to bits. They really send me back in time somehow. Uni days, all night parties, boys. You know what I mean.

For some odd reason, I went through a brown bags phase.

 And I wasn't particular about what they were used for either. [Though I hasten to add that these are NOT used ones!]

This has to be my favourite and was from a provision store [I think] in Kuala Lumpur.

Like any good would-be hippie, I collected and used handmade and recycled paper.

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Some things that I no longer have g*!rr!^rrr!*!^!! are stickers and decals from the 60s and 70s. I had many of them back in the day, but had to resort to the internet to show you some of the designs I miss. Of course, I could still buy them today, but it wouldn't be the same.

This pic from HERE.

This pic from Wikipedia.

This pic from RedBubble.

This pic from eBay.

This pic from Etsy.

Isn't it amazing how many iconic designs and typefaces come from that era of love, peace and getting stoned? I can't seem to find the swirly time tunnel one anywhere though. Does anyone remember that design? 

I could go on! But I think I might have taken up enough of your day already. So what do you think? Did I have enough stationery for a post?

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No questions today.

Instead, please click this song.

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Is it playing?

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Dear Everyone,

Guess what?

Have a GReAt day!

Peace out for now, The Typist :) X

The card was from Sister 1 to Sister 2 and was snail mailed on 21/6/73

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PostScript. Though I managed to do a whole post on stationery, I won't be doing one on music because every CD we have is going. Every. single. one.

Viva ripping, iTunes, youtube and Shareaza!

Update 1.40pm. How rude! I forgot to thank you for sharing your fashion lows with me yesterday. It was very brave of you! Can we agree the 80s were the abyss? 

Also, thank you for your suggestions on what to do with my old Ts. I like the quilt and cushion cover ideas best and think I should be able to handle that, even with my limited non-existent sewing skills. You see? I can be an optimist when I want :)