tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34260425108277397742024-03-05T17:47:28.958-08:00my red crayonsometimes flawed, sometimes bravePirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-35496371851314492082013-02-22T03:29:00.000-08:002013-02-22T03:29:11.643-08:00Prodigal blogger returns. It's been almost a year since I visited this space. <br />
Life's been full and busy and though I compose beautiful and thoughtful blog posts within my own head space, they rarely ever make it into my pixellated palace. <br />
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This year I decided to scale things back a little. <br />
Not an easy thing to do when I long to rush head first into every and all endeavors. <br />
But one must be a realist sometimes. <br />
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Last years experiment in unschooling was a complete bust for us. <br />
Although I sometimes fantasise about the somewhat quirky and edgy idea of being completely child lead and unconventional in our educational approach, the lack of materials at the end of the year for reporting purposes quickly highlights how terrible this philosophy is for this family. <br />
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We need structure. We crave it. I am a list girl. As I type I have several lists beside me and a few more being collated in my head. I tip my hat to all those families out there who make unschooling work. It's back to our eclectic mix of traditional, literature based, unit study, natural learning hodgepodge. <br />
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So now, having recently relocated interstate yet again, I am busy preparing my registration for Home Education. At least now I am down to two formally registered children as my oldest is of school leaving age and so whilst she is still being home educated, I don't have supply my curriculum and reports for her. (She's currently working part time and thinking deeply about what she wants to be when she grows up. Heaven forbid she be like her mother who only figured it out at 36.) <br />
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I have scaled working back to one day a week. (I need something that is just for me. My job is it.) <br />
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So I should probably get back to it. Curriculum doesn't write itself. <br />
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Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-16124140960970140392012-03-18T20:44:00.001-07:002012-03-18T20:45:53.851-07:00put your thinking caps on. So today in the crayon box we <a href="http://www.ellenjmchenry.com/homeschool-freedownloads/lifesciences-games/brainhemishpere.php">made these awesome brain hemisphere hats</a> .<br />
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First they had to find out what each major lobe of the brain is responsible for, then they got to colour in the brain, cut it out and make the hat. At the end of the week, they'll all be given a blank brain template that they then have to fill in themselves. (The little guy will be given labels he has to affix in the right spots)<br />
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This was so much fun.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOBdCaq595gVJbvvKWNFzbJr3dl1JwOdFlUMHBPm41NgDQmP3-OFXoQ48YU26hLE1u9FS5lDbQ8uWVv5IerAPUiwEHcZ9HrRY_30ixY9V6XKuczEzpEvLHnjMUvUCDOMXycG8iK_rRIdC/s1600/Jake's+Brain+hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOBdCaq595gVJbvvKWNFzbJr3dl1JwOdFlUMHBPm41NgDQmP3-OFXoQ48YU26hLE1u9FS5lDbQ8uWVv5IerAPUiwEHcZ9HrRY_30ixY9V6XKuczEzpEvLHnjMUvUCDOMXycG8iK_rRIdC/s320/Jake's+Brain+hat.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the little guy's brain hat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYxq86wr-etB1W6lW-uQTJjhyphenhyphen_PG2pXJtCQqGKu9l1szW5OVQLj0-iZsb1si0dH5F6sMnootIuxzDyyzpSCOavc0TW5L7JaqDbbaA83bgY-KVA12xDicuHDVZZcRl8FuWJ7B_kEsGRagW/s1600/Jake's+Brain+Hat+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYxq86wr-etB1W6lW-uQTJjhyphenhyphen_PG2pXJtCQqGKu9l1szW5OVQLj0-iZsb1si0dH5F6sMnootIuxzDyyzpSCOavc0TW5L7JaqDbbaA83bgY-KVA12xDicuHDVZZcRl8FuWJ7B_kEsGRagW/s320/Jake's+Brain+Hat+3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here's the Little Guy wearing his creation!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQPEP-h3basCJ2Vh7__Dtq-dCuDgxz9sSur6JMMXA2ViqTWS_j7eYwofURQGRB6oEgXOeKZjAjbuVji1M9kUHJCkKwU5Sei25IebC0X0Dto45WEPNDHi7A5xmL_bMtqgYZxYD9VeghSmc/s1600/Nella's+brain+hat+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQPEP-h3basCJ2Vh7__Dtq-dCuDgxz9sSur6JMMXA2ViqTWS_j7eYwofURQGRB6oEgXOeKZjAjbuVji1M9kUHJCkKwU5Sei25IebC0X0Dto45WEPNDHi7A5xmL_bMtqgYZxYD9VeghSmc/s320/Nella's+brain+hat+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Girl Child and back view of brain hat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFXz92nYOTrDLkRmv_yObB9Pd7dr_NJ7E5ehW2fipLyH3Dv5RR8Sl-BEmWx6YleJx_0kmEnvaRux6h-QR-NibUVKNZ00CfKAw7PTTlJ1bgXT8vk5JM51iUHu8HlMXboXGEeFJ71girnBA/s1600/Matt's+brain+hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFXz92nYOTrDLkRmv_yObB9Pd7dr_NJ7E5ehW2fipLyH3Dv5RR8Sl-BEmWx6YleJx_0kmEnvaRux6h-QR-NibUVKNZ00CfKAw7PTTlJ1bgXT8vk5JM51iUHu8HlMXboXGEeFJ71girnBA/s320/Matt's+brain+hat.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">side view of Boy Childs hat<br />
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</tbody></table>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-86369748485526023032012-03-10T20:22:00.003-08:002012-03-11T15:59:06.737-07:00Book Review: Manhattan Dreaming.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPIqrZPR724zVgzx734VOlPzBc4CZregv3Wmx09-KY9SO8uS_nirl2aPJaHWvoH_W9d0pIluy1fUZwRU79uVwNPg3Ktnjr7Geh0vJN3q2u1rO7rKUkkyN641lFkGWnu0NqAUcuVJssVHI/s1600/IMG116-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPIqrZPR724zVgzx734VOlPzBc4CZregv3Wmx09-KY9SO8uS_nirl2aPJaHWvoH_W9d0pIluy1fUZwRU79uVwNPg3Ktnjr7Geh0vJN3q2u1rO7rKUkkyN641lFkGWnu0NqAUcuVJssVHI/s320/IMG116-1.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">She's been termed the Koori Bradshaw of Chick Lit, but Anita Heiss is all that and so much more.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I have many issues regarding the labelling of women writers as "Chick Lit" and Women's Literature". (Best left out of a book review, however I want it on the record that I object to the undermining of women writers and their stories by a label that with one hand pretends to celebrate women, whilst with the other it denigrates and devalues women's stories. And, yes I know <a href="http://the-red-crayon.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/pretty-maids-all-in-row-in-defence-of.html">I said one should embrace Chick Lit</a> , it's a work in progress for me. I am getting there, and authors like Anita help me in achieving this. )</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Manhattan Dreaming is the story of a modern, successful, urban Indigenous woman who breaks all the moulds.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Initially it's the story of Lauren Lucas and her journey of life, love and career and how all 3 conspire to find her half way around the world doing just that. Living, loving and working at a job the leaves her inspired and fulfilled, with lashings of men on the side. But there's so much more to this than a modern day love story for the modern day woman.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">In these pages there's a deeper dialogue taking place.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">MD touches lightly on incarceration rates for Indigenous peoples (Lauren's brother Nick is in jail through out the story), addiction (very subtlety done. Lauren touches on the topic in a discussion with Wyatt, and the repeated statement that Lauren's only vice is cakes and sweets suggests her acknowledgement of how Indigenous people and their consumption habits involving alcohol and drugs are often viewed in combination with the high rates of addiction that plague Indigenous peoples), touched on lightly is also the concept of how often Indigenous peoples consciously change or moderate their behaviour to accommodate others and to consciously attempt to break down some of the stereotypes, (ie. Lauren's being on time or early for everything in an attempt to break the stereotype of 'Koori time". I giggled out loud at this one as it is something I consistently do for those very reasons).</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Other bigger issues touched on are Identity, I do love how even when describing characters physicality, Heiss doesn't tend to consign skin colouring to her Indigenous characters. (Because the reality is Indigenous Peoples have skin tones as varied as every other racial group) and the identity conversation is continued through brief allusions to questions of who and what is an Indigenous person.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The notion of addiction is again broached with Lauren's obsession with Adam. Highlighting that addictions come in many forms and even intelligent women can make really dumb choices when our hearts are involved. I love how this part of the story line pushed Lauren's growth, with each new man in her life we see her emotional maturity increasing. None of the romance is gratuitous and I find that really refreshing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Cultural appropriation takes centre stage, Ms. Heiss's knowledge of the art world, especially Indigenous artists and their work is well researched and the shout out she gives to Indigenous artists (of all mediums) in her novels is nothing short of fantastic. (Check them out if you can. You won't regret it) I loved the questions she and colleagues touch on in regards to exhibits of Indigenous culture and the colonialist lens they are sometimes viewed from. (Does a bowl belong as an artefact or as an art work? Why are so many exhibits so male orientated? Viewing Indigenous peoples through a Western lens erases women and children from the culture, because Western culture has always had so little regard for women and children. )</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">But the thing I loved most about Manhattan Dreaming is that there are no less than 3 strong Indigenous women to act as voices and role models for Indigenous women. The Tiddahood taking pride of place. (Which all ties into connection to country and kin which is at the heart of Indigenous peoples culture everywhere) Australian Literature has a lack of modern urbanised female Indigenous voices. Anita Heiss fills that void with books full of heart, humour and wit.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The story is much more light hearted than I paint in my unravelling. But there's a reason these books are so important to me. They talk about the issues that my people face in every day snippets. Casually and conversationally, Heiss doesn't shy away from touching on the political. But she does so in a way that brings the reader in, that doesn't alienate them and in her approach, may make them want to know more and become more involved. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Heiss creates warm believable characters. Their depth and range is what brings you back to her words. You relate to them, you know people just like them and you want to be a part of their tiddahood. These are characters, that if they were real, you would want to be friends with. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And I think I may just have a wee bit of a crush on Wyatt.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; line-height: 18px;"><u>EDITED TO ADD</u>: Ana Australiana has some great questions on Manhattan Dreaming for reading group discussions <a href="http://flat7.wordpress.com/2012/03/02/manhattandreaming/">on her blog over here.</a> </span>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-39581000488648820582012-03-05T19:56:00.000-08:002012-03-05T19:56:49.477-08:00"pretty maids all in a row" in defence of 'Chick Lit'.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Does anyone really heed the old adage "<i>Never judge a book by it's cover</i>?" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">A quick saunter around any bookstore will tell you no, definitely not. Book covers are yet one more way we further tailor our literary genre. Sometimes consciously, sometimes sub consciously, but none the less, these days a books' cover will tell you more than just the blurb on the back. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Fiction can be categorised according to the type of story an author chooses to tell. And the main genres, (and most genres have sub genres) are easily identifiable by a cursory glance of the cover design. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> The most polarising genre of all would have to be "Chick Lit" or "Women's Literature". All those pretty pastel covers littered with cupcakes, handbags, and shoes. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I went through a phase of avoiding chick lit like the plague. There's a stigma attached to it that screams "C<i>hick Lit: Faux Fiction, what you read when you don't really feel like reading.</i>" which buys into the whole societal perception that women's stories and women's voices are frivolous and materialistic at best and well, who really wants to read about shoes and relationship woes and shoes, and why can't I ever find a man who'll help me with the dishes, and am I running out of time to have a baby and did I mention shoes? The kicker is, if people bothered to actually read the books they might find there is far more than meets the eye. That what looks like a romp in an urban world of navigating men, cupcakes, handbags and shoes, there are real stories being told and real issues being swept under the cover of a pastel coating. To which I say, fuck that. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">It's the publishing world's way of putting Baby in a corner and NOBODY SHOULD EVER PUT BABY IN A CORNER! And we continue to allow the infantilisation of women's literature by the pastelisation and shopping whimsy covers we apply to their books. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">But where I once had trouble embracing and even tolerating the need to label certain books as women's literature, I now feel the exact opposite. We <i>need</i> this categorisation, we <i>need</i> a niche of our own so someone can stand up say, Guess what, <b>Women's stories matter. Women's voices matter.</b> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">That women are under represented in literary awards and reviews is common knowledge and yet for all that, the one area in which women ARE highly visible, we shun. We women, belittle our own. We need to defend these voices. We need to stand up and shout our stories are just like mens stories. In a perfect world, we wouldn't have to. But until we can write <i>that</i> world into existence, then it is a necessity to carve our own niche and defend it against those that would seek to destroy it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">James Patterson's novels are as much about relationships as Cathy Kelly's are. Murakami is as much about relationships as Picoult. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Miéville is as much about relationships as Valente.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"> </span>There isn't a fiction novel yet written that isn't about relationships, irrespective of the gender of the author or the genre for which they write. This notion that chick lit is somehow all about shopping, sex, shoes and ticking biological clocks and nothing else needs to stop. It is about those things, but it's also about so much more. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We reinvent our world through fiction. With fiction we are free to ask big questions and posit all manner of consequences and answers. We are free to postulate on societal issues and societal cancers and offer different visions for different outcomes. Fiction gives us a platform through which to examine the world we live and the world we'd like to live in. We all live in the same world. Male, female, and what ever other variation of gender you subscribe to. Our stories help us make sense of our world, it's what fiction does. And male authors are doing this just as much as women are. Whether it's a murder mystery, a steam punk novel, an anime adventure or a blood curdling horror, the commonality of all fiction is that they need relationships to propel the plot. Whether that relationship is a romantic connection to another character, a familial connection or even a connection created between narrator and reader, a relationship is required and all authors use them to move the story along. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And if it popularised literature isn't your cup of tea, don't judge someone else for reading it. Fiction can be about pure escapism as much as it can be about enrichment and diversity. People are not one dimensional, neither are most (well written) stories. Escaping into a life so very different to your own can be cathartic on many levels. Getting to finally read a story you can relate because it seeks to make sense of a world you recognise as similar to the one you inhabit, is also just as cathartic. When it comes to reading, life is too short to focus on reading books you think you should be reading in favour of books you want to read. It's like being judged for your taste in music, if some douche wants to judge you by the cover of the book you're reading, they're probably already judging you based on a lot of other superficial cues too. So go ahead and read that bodice heaver, erotic fiction, fantasy, suspense, YA, poetry book you want to. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">It's okay to dislike a book, or an author. I'm not saying you have to love all books and all women writer's. Sometimes you gotta dig to the bottom of the pile to find that one voice that speaks to your soul. But if you write off an entire genre based on some ridiculous notion that genre x isn't a real valid genre, you might just miss out on hearing that one special voice. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So remember, before you sneer at the women's literature section (or any other section) at your local book store or library, just think about what you're really sneering at. Is it possible, that by buying into the trivialisation of women's voices and stories, that in doing so, you trivialise and belittle your own? </span>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-1205132503579266412012-02-18T20:21:00.000-08:002012-02-18T20:21:00.340-08:00Not a review...On Valentine's Day, the very lovely <a href="http://www.anitaheiss.com/">Dr. Anita Heiss</a> sent out a tweet and face book status to one and all. Tweet a VDay tweet at her, send a VDay message via face book and she would send one tweep and one facebooker a free copy of <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com.au/books/anita-heiss/manhattan-dreaming-9781864711288.aspx">Manhattan Dreaming</a> . Your Humble Narrator sent out such a tweet and my head near exploded with giddy delight when Anita tweeted back that if I sent her my address details she would indeed send me a copy. (Not only did she send me one, but because she is generous and lovely, she sent one to all the tweeps who played along.) My book arrived that Friday morning. Best of all, she took the time to write a small message in the front cover and sign it. Thank you so much. I love books and I love books with personalised messages in them even more. (I think it shows a level of care to give and receive such a gift)<br />
<br />
But anyway.<br />
<br />
With one other book in my current reading pile (and by that I mean the pile of books I read just for me, not including the four novels and 1 play the kids and I are currently reading for our English and Literature studies, or the books we are reading for history, geography, science...well you get the picture.) I managed to pick Manhattan Dreaming up at 8pm on Saturday night. I finally put it down just before 2am on Sunday morning after finishing it. Completely.<br />
<br />
Since that time (it's now Sunday afternoon so 12 hours later) I haven't been able to stop thinking about it and all the things it makes me want to discuss. And I will get to that in later posts.<br />
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But reading this has inspired in me a number of things. It's birthed the outline for several blog posts. Posts I am unable to write just yet due to other things I should be doing.<br />
And although this is not a book review, (I want to finish my second slower read through before I tackle that) it's certainly a big positive when a book inspires you, ignites the need to express yourself and provokes a need to learn, and tackle big things. <br />
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But right now, I need to tackle the laundry!Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-53402550621720865492012-02-02T16:52:00.000-08:002012-02-02T16:52:34.066-08:00"Because they don't look . Period."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/yAeWyGGTdEE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">.....because you don't look like or act like <i>your</i> people. Impossible! Because you <b>are</b> your people. You just tell them, they don't look. period. </blockquote><br />
A very dear friend of mine sent me this link in a gesture of solidarity. Whilst she IS Jewish and I am not, the message in Vanessa Hidary's poetry can be equally applied to Indigenous Australians and pretty much all minority groups. <br />
<br />
The amount of times I have had people shocked when I disclose to them that I am indeed Indigenous is met with similar statements. <br />
"But you don't look Aboriginal".<br />
"But you don't act Aboriginal". <br />
"But you're too pretty to be Aboriginal."<br />
"But you're too smart to be Aboriginal."<br />
"Oh it must be a long way back then. What percentage are you?" <br />
"But I am darker than you!." (You'd be surprised by how many people over estimate the brownness of their tans, seriously.) <br />
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And yes, all of those statements are made in tones that imply it's complimentary to tell me I am not easily mistaken for Indigenous. Because to be obviously Indigenous is somehow a bad thing to be.<br />
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So to all my Indigenous family and friends, just remember, you <b>are</b> your people. Regardless of whatever stereotype it is you shatter in the eyes of the non-Indigenous, no one can ever take who you are away from you. EVER.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-19314280428047406392012-01-28T22:04:00.000-08:002012-01-28T22:04:38.074-08:00Mummy, How are babies made?Winning the internets? This is how to do it.<br />
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<a href="http://www.theage.com.au/lifestyle/mummy-how-are-babies-made-20120128-1qn3i.html">Mummy, how are babies made?</a>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-49423268225106916982012-01-28T21:46:00.000-08:002012-01-28T21:46:15.839-08:00Yes, this home schooler does teach her kids that Emperor Nasi Goreng did indeed erect the Great Wall of China due to a rabbit population issue*...Home Schooling is back in the spotlight again thanks to this <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2012-01-28/thousands-of-parents-illegally-home-schooling/3798008">news</a> item.<br />
The article itself is nothing to get all up in arms about. For the record, we are registered home schoolers. And I am all for registration and accountability. (For us the pros of registering far outweigh the cons)<br />
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My concern with this article is the way it has painted the whole home school community. We spend a lot of our time already pandering to others who feel we have to validate and quantify our reasons for the choice we made to satisfy them. They need to know we are being monitored. (Why it's their business is yet to be fully explained to me) They give our kids pop quizzes. They attribute any behavioural quirk as a product of home schooling. They tell us we're endangering our children by not letting them experience the real world. (Because spending 6-8 hours a day in a class room with only people your age is experiencing the real world) They worry our kids aren't being socialised right. They worry that we're teaching them that the sky is made of carpet and 2 + 2= Elephant. (Yes, someone actually said that to me) The biggest concern people have is that we're all not teaching them about evolution. (Because apparently the world will fall apart if we don't.)<br />
<br />
I don't ask you to validate and quantify why you send your child to an institution. I live firmly with the belief that as their parent, you have their best interests at heart and have made an informed choice based on what works best for your family. Australians increasing obsession with "illegals" is rather disturbing. Do I need to carry my registration certificates around and whip them out every time someones feels that they need reassurance I'm not illegal?<br />
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The assertion the article makes that home schoolers are religious types with tin foil hats who are suspicious and fearful of big government is, frankly, reaching. Whilst there certainly are types who choose to home school (either on or off the grid for this very reason) one needs to remember that we are not Americans. Rob Reich's studies and finding are UScentric. Americans by nature have an ingrained suspicion and fear of their government and the more conservative a person is the more extreme that suspicion and fear seem to become. Australians as a whole are not as anti government. <br />
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As a parent I would like to remind everyone that education is not a one size fits all system. If it was our literacy and numeracy rates would be higher and more stable. Not in decline. There is no one perfect way. Because all children are different and all children learn differently. All families are different and all families function in a different way. Don't be so quick to judge the family next to you based on an assumption of what you think their choice means. No two home schooling families are alike. We don't judge you on your choice. Nor do we expect you to explain it. <br />
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I can't speak for the non-registered community (I am not a part of it) and I can only speak for my family when it comes to registered families. I'm not entirely sure what purpose this article was supposed to have. Or what the public is supposed to glean from it other than the message that there are "illegals living amongst you". If the purpose was to be divisive, then the MSM have succeeded yet again.<br />
ABC I am disappointed. I expect better from you. But this was tabloidy and tacky. <br />
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* no I didn't really but some fictional guy on a tv commercial did so it must be plausible.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-33110688489580872462012-01-27T22:40:00.000-08:002012-01-27T22:40:03.616-08:00Mary Mary Quite Contrary.... Well, there's no silver bells, cockle shells or pretty maids all in a row, but...I love my little garden. The time we spend together each morning alone as I sip my first cup of tea for the day and I turn on the hose to satiate their morning thirst. It's peaceful and calm. I love watching my vegetables and fruit grow. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Clyh3DULueSlakSl7hAntP_uNjxN2bldohRYPyYZ-sHPGd8jtbDYbIPNlznDSS9qeZ04nlcox8NfELsMWAToKWJMUqgcyVvyK6vfDHEzaUJ3dIF3CEEA634j0gCxj7v2cptJJs_-Z2hm/s1600/IMG060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Clyh3DULueSlakSl7hAntP_uNjxN2bldohRYPyYZ-sHPGd8jtbDYbIPNlznDSS9qeZ04nlcox8NfELsMWAToKWJMUqgcyVvyK6vfDHEzaUJ3dIF3CEEA634j0gCxj7v2cptJJs_-Z2hm/s320/IMG060.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impatiently waiting for the pumpkin to ripen.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxbzg9y19EcSl9cJCpxdUKPQkPPvW51lS5eze1Ob36M3DGytLMO0sRrtcmUUC_LILBfjM61Ovk_IoBAIu2MNi01aNI8Y4-qtVwRVk3ICZ3hqNpuE0djFYQogQcMugGa_ICYLNa8oPZSBR/s1600/IMG061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxbzg9y19EcSl9cJCpxdUKPQkPPvW51lS5eze1Ob36M3DGytLMO0sRrtcmUUC_LILBfjM61Ovk_IoBAIu2MNi01aNI8Y4-qtVwRVk3ICZ3hqNpuE0djFYQogQcMugGa_ICYLNa8oPZSBR/s320/IMG061.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More from the pumpkin patch...babies. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTN3i6tJS5nc4CNSEjFBKPt9H3Re-pN1Gq4ix3oL4c25vx6F2FRHGUdN74TexqbugqHyMZvfv0a4K_Jw5s6y1hwOGZe0LvWAPS1PpK6TuTg0UdVus8NIj4TgszHJ6JgVsW4Vt1REODsez/s1600/IMG066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTN3i6tJS5nc4CNSEjFBKPt9H3Re-pN1Gq4ix3oL4c25vx6F2FRHGUdN74TexqbugqHyMZvfv0a4K_Jw5s6y1hwOGZe0LvWAPS1PpK6TuTg0UdVus8NIj4TgszHJ6JgVsW4Vt1REODsez/s320/IMG066.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My marrow, they are actually much bigger than they look.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiguVGeshN8IleVhU1EgMeZThvxab3rQmEOl1p8xj9Ee8CeKfXbH6aoDLvM3SrNEwhSZwoL3Pu8oLyGLz4DLRjdgTHJ2bWOb1R7Mvb63LSrEwtopKVm1S5pjDkEntB3wAGmTM54VMalaKdg/s1600/IMG069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiguVGeshN8IleVhU1EgMeZThvxab3rQmEOl1p8xj9Ee8CeKfXbH6aoDLvM3SrNEwhSZwoL3Pu8oLyGLz4DLRjdgTHJ2bWOb1R7Mvb63LSrEwtopKVm1S5pjDkEntB3wAGmTM54VMalaKdg/s320/IMG069.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is actually enormous.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiuXMna6izar6IaC3GDkQU9Oawdq3gn4D3SBzupzwuvmhSQayoZHJKvDcetpIDMPH3vwsq2BPwIxUzWkPmUyUx-bwZrjStmiLp5v_O8S2-MQINN4lrR8KTq9lq_875n-F_1FbOXuDKFEeO/s1600/IMG062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiuXMna6izar6IaC3GDkQU9Oawdq3gn4D3SBzupzwuvmhSQayoZHJKvDcetpIDMPH3vwsq2BPwIxUzWkPmUyUx-bwZrjStmiLp5v_O8S2-MQINN4lrR8KTq9lq_875n-F_1FbOXuDKFEeO/s320/IMG062.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yummy yellow zucchini</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and green...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spaghetti Squash</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capsicum</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9OgLstdy3uxT1okApwNeDLTP8-55qDw06D0c_iF1G_fgoVQalu0O5aYNxc-rJFpSGHMHD6jOMV4Du6CNZFxOgATbd-pXkr3X8H41jOtu-PHu4YEyWyFNs7al4y2MYkuGaaXKE9Url4au9/s1600/IMG068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9OgLstdy3uxT1okApwNeDLTP8-55qDw06D0c_iF1G_fgoVQalu0O5aYNxc-rJFpSGHMHD6jOMV4Du6CNZFxOgATbd-pXkr3X8H41jOtu-PHu4YEyWyFNs7al4y2MYkuGaaXKE9Url4au9/s320/IMG068.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomatoes.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So ends the pictorial....there's plenty of other plants in the garden, (cucumbers, herbs, strawberries, MORE tomatoes...different varieties.) But I figure, that's enough for one day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-77112869676868630782012-01-18T20:41:00.000-08:002012-01-18T20:41:21.498-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDc75ow0h4u0uXoxqeqIzlqNzOJDGTH5uecOzTmFGtKd8tzfKN4Ti7rHm7WFqOpu48Jy0HT93ffyXLrTunwM9aGrQr5nWo9rCwgDQ_Os7p5U7YWAattatoiFOJQbrZufn-AiUNi7PdQD3E/s1600/P1020505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDc75ow0h4u0uXoxqeqIzlqNzOJDGTH5uecOzTmFGtKd8tzfKN4Ti7rHm7WFqOpu48Jy0HT93ffyXLrTunwM9aGrQr5nWo9rCwgDQ_Os7p5U7YWAattatoiFOJQbrZufn-AiUNi7PdQD3E/s320/P1020505.JPG" width="320" /></a>We spent New Year at Bermagui this year. (We usually spend some part of the Christmas holiday season in Bermagui, when we are posted close enough to that is.)<br />
<br />
Anyone who has ever spent time in Bermagui will have also spent some time in Central Tilba. I love Tilba. And not just because <a href="http://www.tilba.com.au/abc_cheese.html">this</a> is the best cheese ever, or because it's shops are quaint and beautiful and the smell of the ocean drifts lightly on the air or because you can find delightful sleepy friends in doorways but because the place is just so green and lush and beautiful. Even on a day when the street is overflowing with tourists and you'd expect it to be all loud and bothersome, there is a peacefulness, a calm and the cheese. Did I mention the cheese? Oh sweet Lord the cheese. (Fighting urge to run to fridge and cut up some cheese....it must last until march. Dammit.)<br />
<br />
One of my other favourite things is cemeteries. <br />
I have often marvelled how a place full of silence and death is so rich with life. Every grave, every mound, every stone, every marker, they all tell a story. And the Tilba cemetery, well, it's just beautiful.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbe4v0KDUYk_s0SPeuyYmoyGWGyLBP9_FGjgsQKE6btG91IZyGkJV30OpQyy67whwlcgDX1lPUdtEhCF4hWNqCA2trlWhgrtuREveBdornFakq1GiUPKdpfx5XNCrH_T8mKErVw1g2U75c/s1600/IMG051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbe4v0KDUYk_s0SPeuyYmoyGWGyLBP9_FGjgsQKE6btG91IZyGkJV30OpQyy67whwlcgDX1lPUdtEhCF4hWNqCA2trlWhgrtuREveBdornFakq1GiUPKdpfx5XNCrH_T8mKErVw1g2U75c/s320/IMG051.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>We took the girl child so she could pics that she could then use to draw, paint, sketch with. She hasn't started yet but I can't wait to see her finished products.<br />
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Tilba really is a beautiful place....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbmKHaNONDn_uafxN-khoPf7o-kMgpZzbtAgTicMQ4Krb69hbo2U0rtdcseoE3f6JOdLIXH9tT1OEL5aAi_kBf9gBKDboNXMfVT3MQwJQr8LlYXUL82HV3ne8CrW0jTk2S40qmNomvoxQ/s1600/IMG057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbmKHaNONDn_uafxN-khoPf7o-kMgpZzbtAgTicMQ4Krb69hbo2U0rtdcseoE3f6JOdLIXH9tT1OEL5aAi_kBf9gBKDboNXMfVT3MQwJQr8LlYXUL82HV3ne8CrW0jTk2S40qmNomvoxQ/s320/IMG057.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-13000520154781166392012-01-17T18:36:00.000-08:002012-01-17T18:36:43.546-08:00Learning, when our backs are turned.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3Tv8i_gBgrX-91NJ0NSFaZ1x0MlRn7eAjQewMB5CO1y9FOoeaZ3m2M3pNIWhla4ZHI_6tYZfqt6eZbPdNNrQmadexMord_T4nIssnZ1L4Mgyxv0S66sEBoLnjBjQHG0XpJqmhZ54nfF4/s1600/IMG058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3Tv8i_gBgrX-91NJ0NSFaZ1x0MlRn7eAjQewMB5CO1y9FOoeaZ3m2M3pNIWhla4ZHI_6tYZfqt6eZbPdNNrQmadexMord_T4nIssnZ1L4Mgyxv0S66sEBoLnjBjQHG0XpJqmhZ54nfF4/s320/IMG058.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
As I sit here, thinking about the lessons I am in the middle of compiling, the curriculum I have yet to purchase, my mind is on worry mode. We haven't covered enough from last year, will I have the time to cover what I want this year? We should be learning RIGHT NOW, we've had a 4 week break, going into our 5th and we STILL HAVEN'T STARTED LEARNING YET.....ARRGGH!!<br />
<br />
Learning is something we do every day and truthfully, most of our useful skills are learnt through doing, observing and osmosis.<i> Really</i>. Kids absorb their environment unconsciously. If you don't believe me, pay attention the next time you see young kids playing. If you pay careful attention you will see how much education is really going on, while you weren't looking!<br />
<br />
I have learnt more as an adult just by living my life than I ever did in a classroom. Actually, that's not entirely true. I am a book worm. My nose is always in a book. Always has been. My mother had to ban reading at the dinner table because my youngest sister and I would read and not eat our dinner. I was educated by books. All books. Not just reference books. Fiction plays such an important role in teaching us about our world and how to live in it. Even when we are reading about Middle Earth or a galaxy far far away or a hidden world in the back of a cupboard.<br />
<br />
When I say things like this around other home schooling parents they nod their heads, smile and say "Oh, You follow Charlotte Mason!" To which I am always quick to politely reply, No, No I don't.<br />
Ms. Masons method, though seemingly complimentary to my own approach to education is simply not how we roll here in the crayon box. Whilst we love nature walks, we're not really into doing them every single day. And I don't agree with her that grammar and spelling are not important, even in the early years.<br />
<br />
<br />
But literature is the focus and lynch pin of our home school environment. All subjects have a literature component. (We have a not-quite unit study approach to all our education so numerous subjects are covered by studying one topic) We read, together, separately, out loud. (The crayon box is a very silent place to be after 9pm. We're all in bed, either already asleep or reading.) In fact, recently on holiday in Bermagui, the family who own the caravan next to ours commented on how quiet we are, I just smiled and lifted my book up in answer. For a whole week the television was never turned on and yes we do have a tv in the caravan. During school times, if the tv is on it's because we are watching a documentary, something political, the news or listening to classical music on AIR. Books are our crack.<br />
<br />
When we studied WW2 we read literature. <u>When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit</u>, The Morris Gleitzmen trilogy<u> Once</u>, <u>Then</u> and <u>Now</u>. <u>The Book Thief</u>. And various non-fiction books. We read seemingly un-related fiction, like John Marsden's <u>Tomorrow When the War Began</u> series, Catherynne M Valente's <u>The Little Girl who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a boat of her own making</u>, Michael Gruber's <u>The Witch's Boy</u>. (Because the thing that linked them together was the human need for stories. It's why history exists in the first place. It's why our Indigenous cultures taught through story telling, through art, through dance, through song and why those cultures have prevailed despite the efforts made to rub them out of existence. It's why book burning has been used as a tool against societies for as long as there has been books. Because it's the humanities that show us how to be human, perfectly flawed humans. )<br />
<br />
We also looked at Maps and we watched documentaries. And never cracked a single textbook. I'm not sure how much of the dates we remember, or the names of actual people, but we certainly got a feel for the human cost, for the lessons that history had to teach us and a hunger to know more. <br />
<br />
And that is my job as an educator and their mother. It's not to prepare them for high performance on standardised testing or how to parrot back information, it's to light that fire in them, to fuel the hunger to want to know more. To show them how the world was, how it is and to ask them how they would like it to be and urge them, guide them, facilitate them towards making that happen. <br />
<br />
Literature is a powerful tool for an educator. Charlotte Mason got that much right.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-14888130788121531512012-01-15T19:24:00.000-08:002012-01-15T19:24:29.530-08:00Holidays over back to the grind.Well, not that my version of grind is really grinding at all.<br />
<br />
We've spent a fabulous month just existing as a family. Fishing trips, bush walks, fierce xbox 360 Kinect competitions (I swear, I will beat the man in a sprint race eventually. My mistake was that I beat him first go and showed him how to run correctly for the game... *sigh*)<br />
But I do believe I have the Kinect Ten Pin Bowling Trophy in the bag.<br />
<br />
Our time spent down the coast was wonderful, but I did miss my ed and my garden that is spewing up all kinds of wonderful things to eat. (I will post pics soonish, haven't taken any of the garden and my hay fever has reached such astronomical levels as to render me incapable of talking normally I couldn't be bothered to do it today. I keep losing my voice, much to everybody else's amusement)<br />
<br />
So internet time is still sporadic as I finalise schooling plans for this term, get the dishwasher fixed (which judging from the telephone call I got today I am a little sceptical about whether or not 'Donna' logged my job properly.) get some reading time in and you know just the general everyday stuff we women do that men never even have to think about!Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-59908795514072879422011-10-23T14:56:00.000-07:002011-10-23T14:56:35.648-07:00gratuitous weekend recapNow that the weather is warming up and the football season is done and dusted, we spend a lot more time outdoors. This weekend the girl child and I did a lot of walking while the rest of the family went fishing round the lake. <br />
<br />
We started off around the Lake nearest our home were we came across a family of swans out for a walk...<br />
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The one closest to us started to run and the girl child for getting a little too close!<br />
<br />
A little further down the track we met graffiti artist Joe, who was busy at his trade. This is his incomplete work....hopefully we'll get to see the completed picture on our next walk around the lake!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTd5ubfZ7zjEzLdoMXhMN7m8mRyULyPNyvnE5fMg8ulk8Vv2Y57OoDMKxtpw8p8uo5uEtuNOOIeutLY75caCJOI4R3Dpsqfh7hd22boEY5BSBXhnPM9RJ89N_Bof7NjBpmPaDMDpw6FF7V/s1600/IMG012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTd5ubfZ7zjEzLdoMXhMN7m8mRyULyPNyvnE5fMg8ulk8Vv2Y57OoDMKxtpw8p8uo5uEtuNOOIeutLY75caCJOI4R3Dpsqfh7hd22boEY5BSBXhnPM9RJ89N_Bof7NjBpmPaDMDpw6FF7V/s320/IMG012.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
We decided to go out the river. But it was the heat of the day and carp don't really bite much when it's hot. Still, the oldest boyling managed to hook this one. <br />
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<br />
We had a jammed packed weekend.<br />
So happy it's monday and I can finally relax!Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-29687377992447463252011-10-23T14:46:00.000-07:002011-10-23T14:46:59.317-07:00I Can FlyTodays Google shout out to Mary Blair has left me all nostalgic for the stories of my childhood.<br />
<br />
When I was small, while other children were given lollies or smarties at the checkouts, I was given a little golden book, if I had behaved myself. I come from a long line of bookish women so naturally, I behaved impeccably and as such, had an enormous collection of little golden books. (Back then, little golden books were cheaper than lollies and chocolate bars)<br />
<br />
My favourite book was a short book called I Can Fly. (I did attempt a link. The link failed. The book was written by Ruth Krauss)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHb7p_zH7Ka1Sf7-RlE7jtMkvuKLGr_Qg0iXnIyncexaSSxmCLQZYcHQVZX1rj88YgH5zUgxktLi2Y-YA31-fA-hpKzQbC2ccch9P1swZpWW4xPkhjtIKVwLvvO5sltQcAvMiu76jbfl4/s1600/blair6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHb7p_zH7Ka1Sf7-RlE7jtMkvuKLGr_Qg0iXnIyncexaSSxmCLQZYcHQVZX1rj88YgH5zUgxktLi2Y-YA31-fA-hpKzQbC2ccch9P1swZpWW4xPkhjtIKVwLvvO5sltQcAvMiu76jbfl4/s320/blair6.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Mary Blair was the illustrator.<br />
<br />
When it comes to the books my mother read me as a small child, I remember words mostly, the way she would say them, how they made me feel.<br />
<br />
I remember the fear, the creeping fear when she read me the Jabberwocky....<br />
<blockquote><i>Beware the Jabberwock, my son!</i></blockquote><blockquote><i> The jaws that bite, the claws that snatch! </i></blockquote><br />
<br />
I remember the tingling up my spine, the anticipation, the suspense when she read The Raven.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door... </i> </blockquote><br />
I remember the way she would bray like a donkey when reading I Can Fly,<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>I'm a donkey in the straw, Hee Haw HEE HAW</i> </blockquote><br />
But what I remember most about I Can Fly, is the bright vivid pictures. They really captured my imagination far more than the simplistic words of the story. I can still see those images when I close my eyes, all these years later. Even after my treasured little book, so well loved and read its' edges were furry, worn paper, some tears, until finally it just fell apart, I haven't seen the inside of I Can Fly since I was about 12. But I still remember those beautiful pictures. (A characteristic I remember being inherent in most little golden books by the various artists' who illustrated them. The Pokey Little Puppy, Captain Kangaroo and the Colour Kittens are the ones I remember most vividly from that time.)<br />
<br />
I still remember being curled up on my Holly Hobby sheets, a crocheted blanket by my Nanny on top, my mother sitting beside me and that belief that 3 yr old girls can have when they are taught even the sky has no limits....that I could fly! Because my mother, Ruth Krauss and Mary Blair told me I could. <br />
<br />
(And yes they also told me I could be a donkey, or a chicken, the point was, I was only ever restricted by my imagination.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote> </blockquote><br />
<blockquote>NB: Image used without permission ( although I did ask the blogger) from <a href="http://eye-likey.blogspot.com/2011/06/mary-blair.html">this visually gorgeous blog full of art that will make you squee.</a> </blockquote><br />
<blockquote>(this is the page the image above is from. if you scroll down the page you will see a girl with a donkey, that is from I Can Fly and every time I see that image, I hear my mother braying like a donkey)</blockquote>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-80071578333773355562011-07-24T17:47:00.000-07:002011-07-24T17:47:17.142-07:00The Ballad of Fuck Off and the broken glasses.Once upon a time, there was a woman.<br />
She was a married woman, and with her husband they had three charming children.<br />
One day, it was a Saturday, the woman was in the bathroom brushing her hair.<br />
Her husband rushed in, a twinkle in his blue eyes. He spun her around, picked her up<br />
and placed her on the bathroom bench in order to give her a deeply romantic and loving kiss.<br />
The woman felt something beneath her and heard a 'SNAP'!<br />
The husband placed his hand beneath her and pulled out her hairbrush, which was unharmed.<br />
The woman feeling foolish, smiled sheepishly at her husband and kissed him again.<br />
He lifted her off the counter and she went back to doing her hair.<br />
She reached her hand out to grab her glasses and place them on her face....<br />
OH NO! That snap she had heard? It was her glasses!! <br />
She showed her husband the broken glasses and he asked "What did you break them for?"<br />
She gave him that look, you know the one that makes the Julie Bishop death stare look like a love struck Pepe Le Pew.<br />
They rounded up their three charming children, they were going to the optometrist. On the way there, the husband regaled the children with the story of how the glasses were broken. The woman reminded him that had he not sat her on the bathroom counter, the glasses would not be broken, to which the husband kept replying, "Did you or did you not sit in your glasses? If you didn't sit on your glasses who did?"<br />
When the woman told him to Fuck Off, he decided that must be the new name she wished to be called. Because if Fuck Off sat on the glasses, and she sat on the glasses, then that meant that she was Fuck Off.<br />
(Yes Saturday, it was a long day. )<br />
At the Optometrist, there was no technician working that day. And even if there was, nothing could save the woman's glasses. They were beyond hope. Without her sight giving glasses, there is only so much the woman's eyes can take before she cannot see anything but a blur.<br />
She would have to wait to Monday for an appointment. And would probably have to wait a week for the new glasses to be ready. Which has bummed the woman right out because she has much reading, internet faffery and a football game to watch. I mean, who goes to a Monday Football game she cannot watch because she cannot see???? I'll tell you who, FUCK OFF does!Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-79085452653224939702011-07-02T20:19:00.000-07:002011-07-02T20:19:50.479-07:00echo, echo, echo--gee it's empty in here.I haven't written a post in a long time. My outrage quota has reached dangerous levels of late, so high that they make coherency near impossible. (The articulation motherboard is fried, sentence structure is suspect and grammar is no longer detectable)<br />
<br />
There are several things I keep wanting to address. But the words, well, they just won't play nicely.<br />
But I have thoughts on sweat shops I need to put down some time, thoughts on classism, thoughts on the blatant fear mongering that seems to be sweeping through the populace about people of 'other' origin. More thoughts on identity and in particular Indigenous identity. <br />
<br />
Maybe one day this week I'll get my head around the thoughts enough to be able to apply critical thinking and analysis to them in a coherent enough manner to actually type them out loud.<br />
In the mean time there's always my 140 character spurts of word vomit on twitter.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-58355370581656446092011-06-14T14:55:00.000-07:002011-06-14T14:55:46.967-07:00Why I am stuck at my computer desk and cannot move...If I were Queen of the world I would make lunges illegal. Immediate beheading type illegal. Or perhaps I shall simply yell "Off with his/her legs!" Yes, that makes more sense. No point in losing ones head over lunges. <br />
<br />
Excuse me whilst I take the next hour to pull myself out of this chair. Every muscle is screaming at me, and they don't have very nice language.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-76029255870702584852011-06-09T04:31:00.000-07:002011-06-09T04:31:05.157-07:00Random crapHaving spent the morning at the library I now have a lovely little stash of YA novels to puruse. <br />
<br />
I love YA. I find it much harder to find adult fiction that I really like, I suspect due to the way in which we relate our stories changes from age to age. Perhaps that's why I gravitate towards sci-fi and fantasy, where authors take you by the hand and share a whole other world, where you hear the whispers that reassure you fairytales need not be one of those childish things we put aside as our years advance. <br />
<br />
Being the mother of teens has also meant that I spend a lot of time reading books at the urging of my children. They bring me these books like offerings and implore me with wide eyes and shouted whispers of how much they want to share this world with me...how could I refuse? In turn I place little tomes in their eager hands, classics, literature and mainstream fiction candy and they sit curled with hot tea, blankets and a cat who changes his allegiance as often as a mug is refilled. <br />
<br />
YA reminds how grown up I am in some ways, and how in many others, I am not very grown at all. And since I have a wounded man home with me, there is nothing more wonderful than curling up on the couch with tea, blanket, cat and man. If only it would rain...Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-17240602068343998402011-06-09T04:17:00.000-07:002011-06-09T04:17:53.433-07:00Dream, Believe, Achieve.<span lang="EN"> The great thing about home schooling is the flexibility I have in how to teach my kids. Like all schools, I must adhere to certain rules and restrictions , but these restrictions and rules are limited to KLA’s. Provided we teach the Key Learning Areas, how we teach it is up to us. Which is great when you have a group of children who all learn differently and with only 3 kids to teach I have the fortune of being able to tailor their educational needs with not only their individual abilities but also their personal passions and interests. <br />
It’s no secret that here in the Crayon Box we are all rabid Rugby League fans. (Red V is a part of me) So, finding a way to incorporate a family passion into their education was a bit of a no brainer. And thanks to my fabulous husband, (who did the leg work on this one) I have in my grubby little hands the Dream, Believe, Achieve program created by the National Rugby League. <br />
I was reading through the Teacher Resource disc last night, and I must say I am very impressed with the program thus far. The resource I have is designed for years 7 and 8, and contains another program designed for years 9 and 10. (The NRL also have a resource for Primary Schools called Eat Well, Play Well, Stay Well which I hope to get my hands on soon.) My two oldest kids are (by age) grade 8 and grade 10. (My little guy is grade 3, but since he will refuse to be left out, he’ll do the program too, just with me adjusting it for his age and level of comprehension) <br />
The program is divided into three units, (which I will talk about individually) with the fist unit being The Power of One. This particular unit slides very easily into a home school setting as the focus is on self. The rationale behind this unit is <br />
<blockquote>“Healthy relationships begin with a positive image of one’s self. “ </blockquote>So the aim is to build a sense of self, Who am I?, What can I do? Whilst exploring why building self confidence and positive self belief is essential for not only attaining goals and dreams, but also the importance this has on our lives through self, relationships, individuality and community health. The most important lesson being the way we see ourselves has an enormous impact on our mental health. <br />
The program focuses on students being able to assess the importance of responsibility, recognise effort and achievement and how these play a part in the development of one’s sense of self. <br />
Next week, beginning Tuesday, we’ll be covering two lessons a day. The first of which will be Self concept and awareness followed by the second lesson which focuses on self esteem. The following day they will examine the influence of their own actions on other people’s self esteem. <br />
These concepts are taught through the completion of statements on self (eg. What I like best about myself is…. My favourite TV program is…. If I could change one thing about me it would be….. I am special because…. Etc) The next activity is a shield activity where students learn more about themselves through their abilities to identify and write down their own values and think about what is most important in their lives. (I decided to add the G9/10 activity in here also where the students think about their dreams. The activity sheets focuses on immediate dreams with statements like This year… or While at school I…. My career/job/employment….. Personal health….Etc. Where they will fill in the blanks. They then design a football jersey that uses images, motifs, motto’s text, words or anything they choose to represent their dreams. I know my kids will love that activity. And I look forward to seeing what it produces) <br />
Where I think this courses strengths lay is in the next lesson on examining the influences of their own actions on another persons self esteem. Whilst the lessons focus on challenging negative self talk, how to be a good friend to yourself and presenting self esteem facts, I will personally take it that one step further to examining privilege and how our language choices and actions can harm by not just damaging self esteem but by reinforcing otherness. Which ties in well with the following lesson which gives scenarios on stereotyping and reducing stigma. (These scenarios focus on mental health issues using examples of schizophrenia and depression as talking points. The activity is to develop a script or dialogue for a play, or puppet play. It’s also a group activity designed to reinforce the concepts of listening to others and remembering that your words and actions can impact on other people in either a positive or negative way, the choice is up to you.) <br />
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I am still just really scratching the surface of this program. It was written primarily for young men, although so far in my reading I think the bones f the program itself is fairly non-gendered. A lot of the talking points use examples from football. (Eg. Joe dropped the ball just before the try line right as the full time siren sounded. Joe thought to himself, “I am hopeless at sport.” Instead Joe should have said……..) <br />
I haven’t watched the DVD yet. For this part of the course it’s not yet necessary to. But so far I like what I see. Putting the course into application will be the real test. I am looking forward to it. <br />
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It's also good to know that every once in a while, the NRL get it right. </span>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-47855399766683142842011-04-06T15:47:00.000-07:002011-04-06T15:47:21.676-07:00Meh...I feel so craptacular I am pretty sure (even though I lack the male appendage) I have caught manflu.<br />
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Bug boy has a raging respiratory infection. At least the other two males in the house are on the mend (from their manflu at least, one of them has cracked ribs and a back strain from football) So it's fun times in the crayon box right now. <br />
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The girl child decided I needed a picture to cheer me up. (as you can tell from her pic, she is currently revising angels)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwVlptWrVcHJsKrlLBJBcg6rY3cJeVBDcGihK4o-GMPSKNuJtw94YYs22RCs_Nl3wnYQBvVP_r5ehd9oqPX0oBTbC1NbNbHWoc3MrqhNBJeqVshRLOIMCRutyumiVGqZTxZvY-sNPLwCO/s1600/pic+by+E.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwVlptWrVcHJsKrlLBJBcg6rY3cJeVBDcGihK4o-GMPSKNuJtw94YYs22RCs_Nl3wnYQBvVP_r5ehd9oqPX0oBTbC1NbNbHWoc3MrqhNBJeqVshRLOIMCRutyumiVGqZTxZvY-sNPLwCO/s320/pic+by+E.jpg" width="223" /></a></div><br />
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Her manga drawings are getting better, she draws better when she's recreating a picture she can see....but her ability to create from her mind is improving vastly as you can see from this one. (I know she created this one herself as the girl in the picture has no boobs.)<br />
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And now I must return to my laundry and try to shift the remaining stubborn stains in three football jerseys, before I collapse on the couch with the kids to watch documentaries on WWI. Because that's about all the schooling I can summon from my codral addled brain today.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-59377258068516215362011-04-03T21:42:00.000-07:002011-04-05T14:43:31.164-07:00A quick review of The Book of Rachel.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">So, biblical fiction that tells the untold story of women, is my kink. I love it. And <a href="http://cannold.com/articles/article/the-book-of-rachael/">The Book of Rachael</a> by</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/325233.Leslie_Cannold" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: underline;" title="Leslie Cannold">Leslie Cannold</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">certainly delivered. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The best thing about Cannold's book is not that she gives name and voice to the women of the Bible but that there's such a profound believability to them. Her women are flawed, deeply so, just like real women. Each suffering their own weakness, each revelling in their own strengths, each woman unique and though bound by the constraints of their time and gender each one defies these ties in her own way.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The adage that well behaved women never make history is certainly true in biblical terms. One flick through the bible shows that very few "good" woman are named. Very few Good women are given voice with the most notable exceptions of Ruth and the idealised woman from Proverbs 31. There are more minor players, but the most infamous women of the bible are the naughty ones.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">History also shows us that there are always defiant women. Whether we record their defiance for prosperity or not. In Rachael's case, she did not bring down a judge of Israel or slaughter a band of men in their sleep,(and so evaded the history books) but she rejected the nominal place of women and girls over and over again, much to the chagrin of her mother, the haughty wonderfully arrogant Miriame. (And blessedly Cannold chose to leave out the virgin birth...Miriame, better known to us as Mary has her own secrets to which Rachael cannot guess. And so the very things that would have you condemn her, redeem her in the end.)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Cannold really portrayed the mother/daughter friction perfectly. Your heart would break for little Rachael.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The sister bond was treated with an equal amount of attention to reality. Parts of the story will make you hurt. Will make you angry. Will make you despair.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Cannolds writing is anything but flowery or over reaching as is shown in her ability to convey the emotion without attempting to overwhelm us with prose, unlike Anita Diamant in The Red Tent. A book I also loved though in the case of The Red Tent it was purely for the relationships between the various women, not the writing itself.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The tender sub-story of Joshua, as seen through the eyes of his sister, is touching and beautifully done. Cannold wisely focused on Joshua as brother, son and lover, rather than as the Messiah. As such, she was able to breathe into him a real soul. A man far more believable and probable than the man proffered up for us in the bible.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">And though the book focuses on the untold story of women, Cannold has not treated the men as shadows. Her supporting cast have dimension. Gentle yet commanding Joseph, brave and brash Judah and the somewhat snivelling Jacob.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Unsurprisingly, the strengths in Cannolds tale lie in her ability to weave her non-fiction expertise ( she has two other non-fiction books <a href="http://cannold.com/articles/article/the-abortion-myth/">The Abortion Myth</a> and <a href="http://cannold.com/articles/article/what-no-baby/">What, no baby?</a>, is an ethicist, President of Reproductive Choice Australia, Ambassador for dying with dignity law reform among other things...) into the threads of her fiction. The grown up Rachael is mistress of her own destiny, as much as a woman could be in that day and age. As apprentice to the mystical crone Bindy, Rachael learns how to control her fertility, she learns how to heal and how to comfort when the body is beyond all healing. Through Bindy she learns who she is and that who she thought she was may not actually be who she wanted to be.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">At it's very heart, the Book of Rachael is the story of women in general, it spans the years, for just like Rachael did all those years ago, we still struggle to fight for the right to complete autonomy over our own bodies and the right to pursue and define our own destinies, whatever they may be and in this way Rachael's story is our own story.</span>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-46524600798662078142011-04-03T14:36:00.000-07:002011-04-03T14:36:37.234-07:00Laundry as therapy- it's cheaper than wine but not half as fun.We're still inundated with mucous here in the crayon box. As I type my chest tightens in reaction to hearing my youngest son hack up his little lungs. I keep waiting for the asthma attack, hoping to keep it at bay. It's been a long time since he had his last real full scaled attack. I have liked not visiting the hospital so much.<br />
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Football devours my days from Friday through Monday. Watching, playing, the laundry I do for 30 grown men. I have this perverse sense of achievement when I manage to budge the grass and dirt stains from 30 football jumpers...all white I might add. The husband has now realised what a mistake that was, and the has decided that the next set of team jumpers will be blue. My bathtub is full of these once white jumpers, soaking. They can wait. A little longer at least.<br />
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Laundry is what I do when I have too many thoughts running through my head. Scrubbing at those jerseys is like attacking each thought one at a time, turning it around, staring it down. They're (the thoughts) nothing personal and yet they are all too personal. Like my brain waking me up because it couldn't shut out the Bolt saga. Leading to thoughts on identity, race, politics. Who am I really and how does that fit with different perspectives of culturally defined persona. I am still turning thoughts over in my mind on that one. <br />
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Thoughts on Lent and how we've all manage to bend lent just a little this year, the two boys are fairing the best. Both made resolutions that would be hard for them. Both are sticking to them very well.<br />
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Thoughts on the answers to feminist motherhood questions I am yet to finish...these ones are tougher. I don't know where to start. But know that these thoughts are definitely linked with the identity thoughts.<br />
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and finally, thoughts about fish that fake orgasms. There is a type of brown trout, that when mating a female brown trout will fake orgasm, so that the male will think he's done his reproductive job, then she can swim away and mate with a more suitable male trout. <br />
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And I learnt a new term. Penguin Guado. Which means penguin shit. This morning the husband informed me had the most satisfyingly huge guado....I need to stop telling him guado.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-2182507579467288552011-03-29T17:54:00.000-07:002011-03-29T17:54:15.019-07:00More children's art spamSo the children have been creative in the crayon box.<br />
The girl child has become obsessed with Manga lately and is drawing manga pics all over the place.<br />
I couldn't help but share.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVPh27ws0maZuIvdhsqlSrufSZCCCDy5c1lib_Hy-9pHACornV6-MnZECZcvSHnVqLqKNsgpy_fLdLLuAfnsBA9rwMbUJL9RMpBLe52xJ41ovkOutwsRv2ubql4qkMMW5ww0_tvjy4u9p/s1600/Dell%252C+by+N.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVPh27ws0maZuIvdhsqlSrufSZCCCDy5c1lib_Hy-9pHACornV6-MnZECZcvSHnVqLqKNsgpy_fLdLLuAfnsBA9rwMbUJL9RMpBLe52xJ41ovkOutwsRv2ubql4qkMMW5ww0_tvjy4u9p/s320/Dell%252C+by+N.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's not her best one, but it's my favourite. She loves to draw pics for the Little League Magazine. Last year her picture of Scorch, the Dragons mascot earned her a football. This year, she decided to Maga-rize Big Dell, the finished picture includes the heading "Red V is a part of me." (She stuffed up the writing on the original, so she cut the picture out and stuck it to a new piece of paper to rewrite the writing. This is before the new writing was added.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I find her other pictures, I'll probably share them too. I just can't help myself!</div>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-27818814142569187622011-03-28T15:33:00.000-07:002011-03-28T15:33:00.006-07:00Conversations overheard and had...Due to the man cold, man/boy cold doing the rounds in the crayon box, I haven't yet managed to get around to posting. (Part two of feminist motherhood coming up. Just not today)<br />
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But Bluemilk has done it again with the inspirational <a href="http://bluemilk.wordpress.com/2011/03/27/overheard-in-our-shower">overheard in our shower</a> where I started remembering the funny shit kids say when learning about the differences in their bodies. (There is a comment there were I shared an exchange between myself and one of my younger sisters. It's funny and cute <u>to me</u>...)<br />
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Got me thinking about my boys and conversations with and overheard about their own penis views.<br />
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This first one is a conversation I overhead my oldest son, who was almost 5 years old at the time having with his Nanna while they played on the swings.<br />
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<i>M: When I grow up, Gracie and I are getting married. </i><br />
<i>Nanny: Are you going to have children?</i><br />
<i>M: Yes! Loads of them at least 10! </i><br />
<i>Nanny: 10? heavens that is a lot. What does Gracie think about that. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>short pause as he ponders this. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>M: Hmm, I think we'll get a dog instead. I'll have that operation Dad had on his penis so I won't give Gracie any children cause I don't think she wants any. </i><br />
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</i><br />
It's about this time my mother-in-law falls off the swing as she digests the fact that her grandson just said the word penis.... out loud.<br />
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The next story happened in 2009. November to be exact. The husband was away on deployment and had been gone for seven months by this stage. (He was due home late Jan/early Feb 2010) We have a very pampered cat named Virgil, that the husband calls "The Thunderbird." (No I did not name him after a Thunderbird, but the husband finds it amusing to tease me by calling him that and threatening to get another cat and name him Nigel. Yeah, he thinks he's funny. Okay, he might be, just a little bit funny.)<br />
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Anyway, this cat adores the shit out of my husband. When he was a kitten, he somehow knew, shitting on <b>my</b> pillow was preferable to shitting on the Man's (and certainly ensured his survival). He misses the man terribly every time he goes away. The cat is not normal. He's like a dog. When he hears the car pull into the drive way he goes bounding to the back door waiting...<br />
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Male cats are known fretters. So after seven months in a manless house and the cats bouts of neurotic bulimia increased, I figured he was just missing the Man and made sure to give him extra hugs (while not so silently cursing him for the lovely piles of vomit and thanking god I had completely tiled flooring.)<br />
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But then he started missing the litter box. Which was pretty shallow. So I got one that was deeper and enclosed. Then he stopped eating. (The peeing thing should have been my tip off, but he's always been an oddly eccentric thing and mistakenly I thought it was his way of showing me his disapproval that the Man was not yet home) But Virgil not eating was not heard of. This cat makes Garfield look like a rank amateur.<br />
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Now I only have a learners permit. I don't particularly like driving and I am not very good at it. so I couldn't just run the cat down to the vet, and of course since it was a Saturday, my local vets were shut anyway. So I called the mobile vet, who was swamped and couldn't come to me, but urged that I get my cat to a vet ASAP. So I called a girlfriend who happily took me and the cat to the vet hospital. (He was so despondent, it was the first time I have ever gotten him in his cage without incurring lacerations akin to being attacked by a whipper snipper.) I am grateful to M's presence that day and her kindness in taking us over. She assures me it was her pleasure with the support I gave her when her dog was sick and she was dealing with her first ever deployment. (Army wives aren't all back stabby bitches) But still. when the vet tells you if you hadn't brought your fur baby in when you did that he would have been dead by morning....you are thankful for the ride and the sympathetic shoulder to cry on.<br />
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My cat had a blocked urethra. So he couldn't pee. They tried inserting a catheter and giving him medication to break down the crystals he had formed in his bladder, but to no avail. As soon as the catheter came out he would be blocked again within minutes. The only option they had was to cut his penis off. (Honestly, the look that cat gave me when he got the cone off his head and was finally able to lick himself down there....*shudders* I now sleep with one eye open.)<br />
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As I explained this to my boys, my then seven year old starts laughing. (I am not surprised by this, we all have a habit of inappropriate giggling) I said "J, why are you laughing? Poor Virgil!" He just kind of looked up at me still snickering and said "I know, but doesn't that make Virgil a Shim now Mum?"<br />
In my head I am thinking where the fuck did my 7yr old pick up a word like Shim? But I couldn't help but laugh with him. I spoke to the Man that night as I explained the sudden $3000 hole in our savings account and he had decided that Virgil wasn't a Shim, Virgil has acquired a pocket. (It once was a rocket, now it's a pocket)<br />
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I told him no, and explained what his foreskin was (neither his brother or his father has one) and what circumcision was. Early this year the merry go round is back and he asked if he could have a circumcision. I said I could make him a doctors appointment to talk about it to which he replied....<br />
"No thanks Mum. I'd rather Dad did it. We all know what happens when you take male members of this family to the doctor. I saw what happened to Virgil. I'm just not willing to take that risk!"<br />
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The little smart ass does not fall far from the smart ass tree.Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3426042510827739774.post-29166093959579395272011-03-18T16:29:00.000-07:002011-03-18T16:29:38.870-07:00I can't believe it's not a post....I have the brain fuzz today. <br />
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<a href="http://newswithnipples.com/2011/03/18/my-inner-artist/">The News with Nipples</a> asked us to play along with her inner artist. I would love to oblige, really I would if not for a couple of leetle problems.<br />
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Firstly, I can't draw. With or without a mouse. Actually, that's not entirely true. I can draw a hairy vagina wearing boots that I call Puss-in-boots. but that doesn't exactly describe my day in pictures.<br />
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Secondly, I am woefully inept when it comes to technology. I shit you not. Here's how inept I am. Do Macs even have a paint type program? And if so where the frack do I find it?<br />
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So in leiu of me inflicting my stick figures on the Internets, I present for you a portrait.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirt_bBCzo1pUp_fbCLqaeMWg7RToI6TApH5S87R76TbJZsMncjjDTwvDJjm-G-RWApFYo6mvIBPyL_RPrDSLHQAJq7Eh3jchV_lMCyj-sBSbQajIfgAAjrO5UUeZ8DYx674mm3M3iqWZBj/s1600/Tosis%252C+by+M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirt_bBCzo1pUp_fbCLqaeMWg7RToI6TApH5S87R76TbJZsMncjjDTwvDJjm-G-RWApFYo6mvIBPyL_RPrDSLHQAJq7Eh3jchV_lMCyj-sBSbQajIfgAAjrO5UUeZ8DYx674mm3M3iqWZBj/s320/Tosis%252C+by+M.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Meet Tosis. Our Rabbit. This is my sons drawing of him that he did yesterday during his "Go nuts" hour where I tell my children to just go nuts and create, explore, do something of interest. (And yes our rabbits' name is Tosis, short for myxomatosis. ) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">so there you go Nips. A pic for your game. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Pirrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10757691024470137993noreply@blogger.com4