With your very own blue truck?

I went to take some pictures of Darcy and Imogen yesterday. Darcy wasn't particularly impressed so I didn't get heaps of great ones. Imogen was very keen for snaps, however.

But, I really love this one of Mr. Darcy and his mummy. :)

When I read this quote (of sorts) my one of my favorite bloggers, Kate Inglis, I thought of Anna. :)

I scoop him up and cradle him in my arms, his legs dangling, and I squeal into his ear "Oh, oh my baby, you must always be my baby, will you always be my baby?" and I snorfle all over him and kiss him and embarrass him and he giggles and says "Yes! Now put me down." and I say "Will you always be my baby even when you're a big man with your very own blue truck?" and he giggles again and says "Yes! Now put me down."

I never want to put him down.

A delightful shot of one of my favorite boys, and one of the best mums I know. :)

Only if he will...

I remember being eight or nine, playing outside in the street and waiting every afternoon for my father to ride down the road on his motorcycle. We'd listen for the rumble of the bike, and then run up the hill, desperate for a ride.

This very rarely happened. My father* was (and is) a short tempered fool of a man, and never indulged us with a mere 50 metre ride on the motorbike.

I've heard so many times that women will always marry some version of their fathers. I'm smart enough to know that this would be a disastrously bad idea.

And while I don't know if Mr. Husband (whoever he may be) is a keen motorcyclist, he better be the kind of guy who'd take the kids for a spin.

*Mark, not John (my step daddy-o)

I'm thankful for you...

The last Thursday in November is Thanksgiving. This is a holiday specific to the United States (well, Canada has a Thanksgiving, earlier), and ever since we've had... affiliations (in other words, since John showed up on our doorstep in 1999), we've celebrated it. This year, somehow, it just never really got planned or organized.

So, this morning, I decided that I was going to cook a Thanksgiving meal for my family. This is quite an undertaking, considering we didn't have a turkey, or any kind of turkey. I knew that I wouldn't be able to buy a raw turkey, and that I didn't have time to thaw one with everything else I was doing today, so I decided to buy 5 big turkey drumsticks at the butcher, and a breast roast piece of turkey too.

Now, of course, we couldn't just have turkey. This is my shopping list (which I wrote during the team meeting at work. 2 hours, so boring.)

turkey roast, turkey legs, potatoes, sweet potatoes, pineapple, green beans, cream of mushroom soup, corn cobs, cranberry sauce, 'check import store for pumpkin pie mix, apple pie if not'. (In America, they have big cans of ready-made pumpkin pie mix).

I decided that apple pie was just no good. There is no substitute for quality. So, I googled a pumpkin pie recipe from my phone, and bought everything I needed. I did not, however, plan on making the crust, because I did not have time. So, admittedly, I bought that.

I had to pick Gerard up. I got in touch with Kate. We were 'all-hands-on-deck' ready to cook. They so kindly helped me with vegetable preparation and cleaning up the kitchen (our house is under insane renovation and there is stuff everywhere).

Anyway, it's hot out here today, and it was a sweaty job, but, I triumphed. Here are the results, kind of. :)
















This is not what I look like, normally. Well, not really. It was a parody of the cheesy "Turkey" photo my mum takes every Thanksgiving. I was mimicking her turkey face.

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, these are the things I am thankful for right now:

Warmer weather.
A good job (actually, more than one, but, that's another post).
My family, far and wide.
Friendly friends.
Kinerds.
Kina Grannis.
Granni.
Lucy.
Good health.
Casey will be here in 26 days.
You. (And maybe one day you'll know exactly who YOU are.)

validation.

Little surveys and '25 things' float around. I've done them before. In fact, the reason I've only posted excerpts from my old blog and not just given the whole thing to you, is that the blog is overflowing with old surveys. I think that there was a period in my life where I wanted to feel in control of something. That awkward age of 16 and 17 where you feel like an adult but aren't; where you have opinions and understandings but don't have the experience to voice them.

And so, resorting to these little quizzes and surveys where I could answer all sorts of questions, mostly trivial and meaningless, I suppose, was some kind of way that I could express my answers, where I could be decisive. I moved from North Carolina back to Tasmania. So far, it could quite possibly be the most bittersweet thing that's ever happened to me. It's hard. It's emotional. I cried a lot. I left a lovely life behind. I didn't feel at home in my own country. That's hard. The quizzes and surveys I did; they kept me connected to the friends I left in the US. Somehow. Because I could answer questions about me, and I could answer questions about them, and I guess that meant I was still there, or I still knew something.

After looking back on them, there was so much I didn't know. And I'm certain that in another five years time, I will say the same of myself at this age. Figuring these things out, though: it's fun. The difference between 16 and 21? Heavens. I can't even say. I looked for validation more back then, I think. Although, I'm not sure that we stop looking for validation. I guess it's just a matter of what we need it for. Or perhaps more particularly, who we need it from.

I'm not looking for validation of teachers these days (well, at least not since October!). These days, in some ways, I am a teacher. So, that's changed. I had some great teachers in high school. The teachers I did the best with were the ones who validated my learning; who validated me.

I'm not sure really that I'm looking for validation from my parents, either. In fact, I'm sort of disappointing them at the moment with a lack of drive to knuckle down and be a teacher. I have to know what's out there. I'm going to know. So, after having spent 4 years away from my parents, I've moved home. It's hard work! I know that everything we've done has been hard for them too. But they can't possibly know what it means to be shifted like I do. Sure, they've moved. But they're the shifters. It's about time I shifted myself. That's the difference between 16 and 21. I can go. But, no doubt, thanks mostly in part to my parents, I want to go. And I will. Lots of parents bring their children up in such a way that gives their children the impression that home is the only place to be and the kids end up too scared to leave and they never do. Home may be the best place to be, and it might be the safest place to be. But safe isn't always the educator.

Does this mean I'll be bungee jumping in New Zealand next year? Goodness, no.

But I've got to jump somewhere to figure this whole thing out.

Legally, and emotionally, a 16 year old kid can't do that. So, while I read back on little surveys that I feel like I did yesterday, that whole thing (in some instances literally) is half a world away. I don't know too much more than I knew then, but I have the resources to figure it out.

like a wallaby in the headlights...

It happens all the time.

On the way home from Launceston today, the sun was down but not quite down, my least favourite time of day to drive. Dusk is gross. Dusk is blinding in a "you could almost survive without headlights but LOOK OUT! ANIMALS!" kind of way.

I hit a tiny little wallaby. I hate doing it. I feel terrible. It hurts. It happens so quickly, but, man. Think about it. That road? It winds through the bush. Yes, the wallaby is younger than the road, but, he wasn't born with a car-dodging instinct. They freeze. They scurry back and forth, trying to make a decision. Do I stay, or do I go?

If I see them early enough, I'll always slow down. I'm not a relentless wallaby killer. Also, if I'm going a safe-enough speed, I'll swerve slightly. But lots of times, I hit them all the same.

The near misses are over as quickly as they come. You survived this time. But I don't like your chances. It's not safe here. Go, deep in to the bush, and pleeeeeease, don't come back, because I hate being the one to murder you and your cousins.

Almost always, when it happens, I think of my non-Australian friends and how horrified they'd be that I hit native Australian marsupials quite regularly. They're everywhere, I swear. Like deer, or rabbits. I told Casey's 5th graders all about it. They were horrified. Poor little kangaroos! Yes. I know. And as much as I'd like to be the superb rally car driver who could dodge them without endangering my own life/slamming my car (or in this case, it would have been my mother's car, and, my life would not have been worth living anyway) into a tree or post, I'm just not that driver.

When huge barging challenges come our way, and we freeze... maybe we end up being crushed. Or, maybe it dodges us. But, stop and dart and choose and deliberate? We'll almost certainly be hit then. And if we don't? It's only a matter of time.

A motion to change (the blog)...

This blog has been particularly stagnant lately.

I occasionally take a photo of something I've cooked, or, of Anna's kids, or, something I did. But, since I've finished school, since I love to write and write and write, but don't, I want this to be more. I want to spend time expressing myself. I promise, this will be way less "waving and twirling ribbons" than you imagine when you envisage one's 'self expression'.

So many people say that you learn a lot about who you are while at university. Maybe so. But, I haven't been given very many opportunities to express what that is, or, what that means, or what I mean, or, what I am. So, while you may know this blog as clean-cut, and, informative, it won't always be that. Not anymore.

Don't read too much into it. (Read the blog. Desperately, I ask. Read the blog.) I mean, don't read into this as a crisis of faith or identity or any kind of cry for help. I'm helping myself by giving myself the opportunity to write some place. Not just on a piece of paper at my desk. Some place where maybe someone would read it.

And what is a blog, anyway? Lots of people use blogs for keeping people updated, keeping a record of the things they do with the friends and family. And, what a legacy that will be. What an awesome thing to look back on in days to come. Also, it keeps people on their toes. (I have someone in mind, in particular! Lisa King ;) )

But I've read blogs that surpass any kind of profoundness I've ever known. Thoughtful and honest and raw and neat and messy and creative and hardcore and heartbreaking. I've read blogs of people I've never met. People who have lost babies. People who have traveled the world. People who are insanely expressive. And, believe it or not, even when you've read a post I've written about celery with peanut butter and sultanas, I have the ability to be expressive. I promise. Somewhere, I do.

I've been writing, and writing fairly well, about extra boring educational theories, and inclusion, and child development, and creativity in the classroom, and literacy teaching strategies, and teaching English as a Second Language, and ohmygoodness, since I'm so clearly not heart set on being a teacher right now, I can't let this body of writing be the summation of my creativity. Please, no.

So, please feel very free to stick around. It may not be what you're used to all the time, but, it'll be the best I've got.

A little American Alison, circa 2004.

Wow, its been a while. And, that is because, I'm lazy, I've been out of town, and I forgot I had this. Last time I wrote was in June. And, I was on a total Shins kick. They are awesome. I like them. Let's have an update on everything that's happened since I've been away.
I went to Virginia, like the day after I first wrote in here, and stayed in Newport News for 2 days with my Uncle. Then, I went to Busch Gardens, which was soooo much fun, and then I spent 3 days in Washington DC. I then went back to Raleigh. I like Raleigh. I came back to Boone, and have been hanging out. I went to Lynchburg, Virginia on the 4th of July with some people from my youth group and we worked the airwalk things. Man, you'd think that'd be easy. Apparently not. It was soooo hot there. That weekend was my first experience with a Hindinburg Sandwich, from Macodos. Good times. It was so hot there. Sara Hege busted up her ankle the first time she jumped on the velcro thing, which was unfortunate for her. Vern took her to the hospital. We were then 2 people short, and that sucked a lot because we had been 2 people short to start with, so now we were 4 short. Then Tabitha got like, heat stroke or something and almost passed out. We were then 5 short. lol. That's a hard thing to do. It must have been about 8000 degrees. Hot enough to cook a Turkey, and it was only July at that point! Uh! After we closed for the concert and speaking, we went to Macados, like I said, and then came back and the CCC people taught me the Cast Your Burdens song. And, that was cool. We then started back some of the airwalks, but not as many as during the afternoon so we could have about 2 on each, like it should have been in the first place. Stacey and I worked on some Jurassic Adventures thing, and some kids are so greedy. That is what I learned. Haha. And some Moms are sooooooo bitchy when it comes to their kids being in line. One kid almost threw up on me and his mom didn't even do anything about it, nor apoligize to me. I almost threw up. It smelled so bad. So to cover it up so no one else would step in it, I had to put my one and only fan on the ground. Aghfdjkas. That sucked too. But all in all it was a good weekend, I had fun. It was sooo much hard work, but it was a good time. I'm never working in the real world. lol. Anyway... I didn't do a lot