Friday, October 30, 2009

a bit of a shit week

The blogworld has bought me a handful of special, unexpected friendships. But this is the first time it has bought me sorrow.

I'm sad to report that The Editter died this week. We first met through her blog a few years ago and since then I've enjoyed our regular catch ups on trips home across the Tasman. This year our ritual breakfast at an excellent cafe in Cuba Street (Saturday, 9 am, same place, same time) got shelved. At Easter I had the pleasure of seeing her in hospital, to welcome her beautiful son. Then lastly two months ago, I visited her at home to say goodbye. It was week 1 of chemo, she wanted miso soup and she showed me the engagement ring her partner had just bought her, though was yet to formally slip on her finger. She was planning a beach wedding in December.

There's a cruel irony in dying so young, at 43, when your much wanted child is just 6 months old. Strangely, though my own brother died a decade younger, in the scheme of things The Editter's death seems more tragic.

What good can come of this? I love the health-giving properties of Vitamin D laden UV but melanoma is still a killer. Don't get sad reading this post if you don't know this wonderful woman, just check your spots and freckles instead. Visit your doctor asap if anything seems awry, or if you have no idea what you should look for.

The Editter was not careless with her health. She's wasn't someone to ignore her body. Pregnancy may have caused the undetected lesion to multiply out of control and spread to her brain, lungs, liver and adrenal gland before she knew it was there.

So you've got the message now. An odd spot or any kind of weird body thing happening anywhere that doesn't feel right. Get it checked.

Better safe than sorry.

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Friday, October 23, 2009

random holiday pic



Melaka, Malaysia: to read more there are some food focused stories on my food blog.

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Monday, October 12, 2009

fitness freak

It's spring. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. My trusty mountain bike is rusting from lack of use. The idea was simple, a short ride to gently break in my rear end for the cycling season.

Good idea. Somehow it turned into a 14 km ride. A mere warm up for fitness freaks. A bum-breaker for sloths.

Always a good idea to bring a camera. A photo opportunity makes one look artistic rather than a total pussy when in need of a short break.

Some urban pictures from our journey a part of the city I haven't explored by bike before.


The "Cheese Stick" near the "White's skink" turn off in the Royal Park woodlands.



The Moonee Creek bike path under the freeway.



Out from under the freeway the now defunct Melbourne Eye greets you.



Good advice.


On the return journey we spied a father out walking with his kids. He flagged us down to point to out, between swigs of wild turkey and cola, a large European carp trapped in the middle of the creek. The industrial inner West, is such a haven for nature lovers.

Survived the journey.

More to come I hope.

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not a fashionista moment @1985

The scene: Amsterdam, November '85. Boy it was cold. About 5 degrees celsius, from memory.

I'd been living out of a backpack from the end of August, traversing many different climates. In Tokyo it had been edging up to 40c, London about half that and throughout Europe most days had been in the pleasant mid-20s. What to cobble together when the chill factor hits?

I give you:

Black and white trousers.
Purple wooly jumper.
Red, ridiculously oversized, oh so 80's jacket with compulsory shoulder pads.
My favourite pink ankle boots.



Whilst in a mad scanning old negatives frenzy, the Not Boyfriend admitted he preferred the way I dressed back then. Though in another couple of decades am sure I will look at the clothes I wear from this era just as, err, fondly.

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Thursday, October 01, 2009

giving it away for free

A rant on volunteering

There was a moment about seven years ago when I vowed I’d never go on a committee for my professional association ever again. I’d spent the past decade on and off groups, editing a newsletter, being vice-president of the organisation and a committee member. The problem was it was a small handful of us who’d been picking up the slack for years and now it was time to hand the reigns over to the next generation.

I was stunned when a then mid-twenties young professional, who’d sucked up our free support and advice over the past few years as she navigated her entry into a new career exclaimed, “Oh no, I can’t possibly go on the committee, I’m far too busy setting up my own business”.

As if, the old guard wasn’t far too busy working more hours than her in our successful endeavours?

I felt overwhelmed by her selfishness and lack of foresight in the role that the association played in helping nurture newbies like she had been. I saw a change in our profession, from a vocation to a career. A sign of the times. I suspected it was generational.

But at that moment I thought, “If this is how it is now, I don’t want to be a part of it any more”.

So I stopped putting up my hand and in the end stopped going to the meetings altogether.

I’ve always volunteered in some capacity. From collecting for the blind and various charities in their doorknock campaigns in my childhood, to years spent as a telephone counsellor. I’ve spent hundreds of hours sitting on committees helping to put the world to rights, manned desks at open days and done whatever has been asked of me.

I have been volunteering in another capacity for the past 17 years but as I get so much joy from what I do once or twice a month, it really stretches the definition a little and in reality it’s a cross between a hobby and part of my working life. The fact I don’t get paid directly is meaningless in the equation.

In the past year I have thought seriously about volunteering. I have up to half a day a week that could be spared and I’d happily share my time and skills with a non-profit organization. I have a diverse pool of experience and knowledge to draw on. Sure I could make cups of tea or stuff envelopes but I also have many years of admin and media work, research and writing as well as another area of very specialised, professional knowledge.

So last year when I thought about the exchange of time and skills for that “something else” you get from volunteering my first thought was exploring an area I wanted to learn more about. I have always been interested in philanthropy and I would like to find out how small but effective philanthropic organizations work. Previously I’d applied for and received grants for projects I’d worked on and I wondered what the process was like from the other side.

I decided to target the Foundation that interested me the most, I love their philosophy, respect their history and most of all admire the types of projects they support. The website had no information on volunteering so I rang the headquarters. The woman who took my call was a little taken aback. I got the feeling no one had ever rung to offer their time in such a way. She told me to send a CV and a cover letter, which I did straight away.

A week or two later I got a short reply. Like a standard job refusal letter, it didn’t give me a clue as to why they didn’t want me. Was it me, or did they have no structure for taking on unpaid help? To be honest, I was quite stunned at not just the refusal but also the lack of explanation.

I felt a huge pang of empathy for the long term unemployed. It’s one thing to be turned down for a job during an economic downturn but these guys weren’t interested in using a pair of hands and a brain for free.

Interesting.

Recently I had a similar but different experience. Offering tangible skills backed by demonstrable experience to an entirely different type of organization and been knocked back. The details are not important but the question remains, is it that hard to give your time away these days? To be honest, I’m not interested in doing outreach work for the homeless or many more incredibly noble things. I don’t want to volunteer with a community group for now; I’d like to learn more from well thought out foundations and the like. But not just anyone or anything.

Perhaps I have targeted these organizations a little too well – it turns out they are just as fussy and exacting as I am!

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