My Blog

Ommmmmm.........🙏🙏

Isagenix has blessed me with a lot for which I am grateful - health, retirement, time with family and a wonderful community.

It has also opened up a world of travel that I never imagined and in the last three years I've been to 8 different countries.

I love travelling - love packing , love the trip in the taxi, love arriving at the airport 4 hours early and love getting frisked for bombs - everyone knows I love plane food......😀👍

I have also realised that time with Isagenix doing personal development has enabled me to achieve a certain calm in the face of what normally would exasperate me.

I have been spoiled with the chance to travel business class and stay in 5 +star hotels in some of the most magical places on the planet but have always maintained a grounded belief that I am true to my roots and can easily accommodate lesser conditions of travel

Well this has truly been tested hence far on this trip to Melbourne for Isagenix event SKO.

On board Qantas airbus seated alongside 3 other people I can achieve an almost zen like state deep in a meditative position stoically seated in my limited zone, eyes fixed forward, legs stretched to capacity under the seat in front and telly screen poised.

Whilst I pride myself on being a model passenger I also have time to reflect on the behaviours around me.

You know the loud talker - male-  who feels the need to yell 'thanks Karen for the man flu.....'

and then as if we all need further affirmation that we are in an incubated hot house of infection he coughs and sneezes convincingly.

We also have the loud talker - female - who must think that is her last day on earth and needs us all to know she is really well travelled and read and using her blank canvas companion as audience, talks non stop

I love my seating companion who has come prepared with every sort of technological distraction and spends some time arming flight mode and preparing headlphones and finding entertainment apps only then to pull out Woman's Day and then wait for it.......

The Australian - I get it - I'm impressed - you can read a broad sheet - but really - save it for the kitchen table........

Still - love travelling - -and after a brief flight , short movie and breakfast - -a good flight......

Wait for it......

The hotel.....

First clue should have been the fact that the taxi driver didn't recognise the name.

Second clue was when I discovered it sandwiched between a Vietnamese karaoke cafe and a Chinese laundry.....

Only thing welcoming is the automatic glass doors-

Once inside - I muse that it is only a few minutes walking distance from the Convention centre

and all I need is just a bed and a shower ....

I arrive at the front desk and despite some difficulty understanding the receptionist manage to learn that I need to take the elevator to floor 1

This done I meander around the passages looking for my room until the signage leads me down several flights of stairs with heavy luggage in tow to what I can only describe as a converted garage.

Bemused I eventually get to my room and discover that luckily I only want a room and a shower - 'cause that's all I've got........

Can't swing a cat - no phone reception and every time someone flushes a toilet I hear it ...

Apparently underground rooms are trendy but have you ever seen that superannuation ad where the excavators dig in the bowels of the earth for remains of civilization - well that's how I feel as I anticipate the next 4 days in the dungeon as I have fondly named it.

Still love travelling and I stayed in a hotel in Vietnam where the toilet door opened out on to the wider world and the switch that controlled the fan also controlled the light so I had a choice....

Still loved it for the rich fabric of diversity that is travel

It all gives me pause for thought and makes me even more grateful for the opportunities and blessings that make my life such a rich experience 

Still - gotta be honest -  a room with a view would be nice ......🙏

Isa a day........

 Part of my daily routine is to visit Phoenix shopping centre.

It was the mainstay of life during the early days in Spearwood.

Convenient shopping precinct and easy to access.

Renown for the best barbecue fish EVER that was a regular holiday treat all the kids loved, it was a handy place for treats and diversion.

Every school holiday there were always SCi tech explosions , talent shows, craft / bake stalls and the ever present magician or clown - much to Ben' s dismay - once as a toddler with his Nanna and I taking a breather thinking he was entertained in the front row we all of a sudden saw his retreating corduroy behind toddling out of the shops totally appalled by Benny  the clown.

Phoenix was always handy for times when money was short as over time it accommodated various shops ranging from Big W to surf shops so it was a one stop shop which bridged our home and the wider world .

Always an experience for the kids to alight from the school bus outside Mac Donald's, Phoenix was a haven where you could buy cheap Chinese or doughnuts or some other treat that salved the stress of the harrowing bus trip from Freo to Spearwood.

Over time it seems to have passed it's use by date.

Shops come and go - Mostly go and at times it seems just like a meeting place for retirees and the unemployed.

Now that our eating regime is a little more rarified Phoenix does not really offer the varied cuisine it once did but it is still a little quiet spot to read a paper and have a chai latte.

I think for me it represents memories from the past and is also a sure opportunity to meet up with people from school and sport days and exchange stories of our respective children's new lives - most a million years from their Phoenix origins.

I have fond memories of early days in Phoenix and now that it appears that it may be now lost in the legends of Spearwood confronted with the soon to be construction of Aldi not 20  metres away it seems sad that it has seen it's hey day.

I have to be honest - there are times when Phoenix presents me with a real challenge.

Overweight people who still insist on eating chips and gravy for lunch.

Children force fed sausage rolls and cheese sausages when they are asking for water and a banana.

I'm not being judgmental - heavens knows my children loved chiko rolls and all types of deep battered food but now more enlightened I find it hard to see that such food now seems to be staples rather than treats.

Another challenge is to hear the dear sweet old people who love to sit and partake of coffee and cake regaling each other of tales of doctor visits.

Some aren't even that old but seem resigned to a life dictated by doctors and prescriptions.

I can't remember the last time I went to a doctor.

I am sure most of us know a shopping centre similar to Phoenix.

It is an intrinsic part of the neighbourhood and a microcosm of society.

I often pause for thought and wonder at how easy it is to train your palate to not crave sugar and salt - we don't miss what we never had.....I admire the parents who can resist the urge to 'treat' their children with salty /sugary snacks and instead offer carrots and fruit.

I wish I had at hand the tools I use now every day to avoid sickness, encourage weight management and healthy aging.

Anyone who wants an alternative - they are out there.

I have also been asked by several ladies my age about their burgeoning waistline and how they can't shift it despite exercise and dieting.

There's a good reason for that - years of preservatives and poor eating habits have resulted me in visceral fat around the organs which won't shift unless you flush the toxins and replenish with the stuff that will energise and strengthen.

This is my pet aversion at present as I have heard so often that middle age spread is just part of growing old - well it doesn' t have to be.......

I figure that when Phoenix introduces a salad bar maybe trends will start to change 😀

 

My name is Chris and I'm a recovering Appleholic.....

Now I know I'm technologically challenged - Took me a while to realise that a hard drive is not a  long road trip down a winding stretch of bitumen!!

Recently I've become more  serious about my online business and can't avoid techonology.

The hand me down Apple Mac needs repair so I work from a pretty reliable IPad and an I phone.

I have needed a laptop in order to access webinars and zoom calls and thinking I would be frugal invested in an Acer.

After the initial excitement of setting it up myself - certain realities became obvious.

I had always used a computer at school but we had techs who were always on hand for trouble shooting except for me everything resulted in 'troubleshooting'.

Joe - can you install word?

Joe - can you install apps?

Joe - can you set my password?

Joe - can you turn it on for me.......   ?!!!!!!!!

The successful setting up of this computer was for me a great achievement.

But - OMG - those big keys and what the hell - colons with brackets for smiley😀😀 faces

I keep pounding the screen thinking it's a touch screen and what's with all these arrows!!!!

Yep Acer must have severe FOMO not being Apple 😀😀

I have the greatest respect for Steve Jobs - he really knew his stuff and much like Steve Jobs I know what it is to be misunderstood.

As a serious sufferer of chronic resting bitch face - I understand only too well what Jobs means when he says 'I was poorly made'.

Those words really resounded with me and made Jobs not only a genuis in my eyes but a human - as Peta would say 'human AF.......'

We all have our failings and weaknesses but that is what makes us human and interesting and genuis!!

Still haven't installed the wifi printer but that's why I'm human AF.........

and  a believer in Apple 😀

#technotolerant

12 stages of retirement

Any one who reads my blog will realise that most of it is written in an attempt to reflect and wrap my head around retirement and transition

I love retirement and am eternally grateful for the opportunity.

It does not come easily however and I now understand those mournful looks from friends pondering the retirement of spouses soon to be continually under foot day after day.

We all assume that unlimited freedom is a thing of wonder and a blessing after many years of child rearing and paying our dues.

It is wonderful and it is a blessing but if not managed properly could pose some problems.

Propelled into what many thought was premature retirement I found the whole experience a little daunting after so many years in a classroom.

I took to it like a duck to water though as mainly thanks again to my wonderful children I had the chance to travel and have new adventures

After a time I did have a strange unsettling feeling of not finding a niche , being somewhat of a square peg in  a round hole.

Hate gardening and besides my yard has turned into the secret garden and is well beyond a pair of clippers and a whipper snipper..

Never been much of a cook and besides I eat so well almost everything is close to raw.

Don't dance for which everyone is most grateful

HATE golf

That seemed to be the ready to go to list for recent retirees done and dusted.

Everything seems so new and different and whilst I am embracing change you don't realise just how disconcerting it is to make change happen .

Love the challenge of a new business and the tools at hand to have success - just wish it didn't involve a computer and a seemingly never decreasing learning curve.

Tried to volunteer but it seems that every elderly person needing companionship is sorted and other appropriate causes go into recess over this period of the year much like TV ratings. Was especially surprised to know that I have to follow a fairly rigorous interview process to volunteer in schools. Hiking club has also gone into hiding for the summer.

I understand how many feel like dinosaurs put out to the tar pit - the world all of a sudden seems so big and new and yet you don't feel 'new' enough to deal.

Joined a seniors group today - you guessed it - once over 50 you are a senior - I will draw the line at Bingo !!

I have decided that it is not retirement that is the challenge it is the way I am approaching it.

Determined to visit the gym everyday and plan trips I must make sure I transition to this magical part of my life just as easily as I ventured into teaching and child rearing with all the sports training and excursions, holidays , parties , growing pains and school.

Not  everything stops at this time of the year - Joined an Art class in November - life model - you guess the rest 😀😀🎨

#retirementblues

Old school days

After composing yesterday's post I started to think about my school days and realised that they were full of little snippets that would turn a modern educator's hair white.

Days before duty of care , ADHD, individual learning packages , political correctedness and indeed any degree of sensitivity or caring.

Much like the way many learned to swim - being thrown in and left to sink or swim - so were my memories in a Catholic school.

I remember the days in Fremantle where the view from our school yard was limited. Hemmed in by concrete monuments to prosperity in the Port city there was no greenery or school oval. Morning breaks were spent with maybe the occasional game of chasey brought to an abrupt end by skinned knees as overzealous participants fell on the asphalt or skipping with a big rope or maybe a game of sticks.

This was a novel  game where you jumped between sticks that were moved various distances till you could no longer reach the next one. Trending saw games come and go like knuckle bones and marbles - anything that could be played with some success on limited yard space.

The real entertainment was the joy we got from playing I spy - when we faced one direction we were confronted by the coffin makers that backed onto the funeral director that shared our space. Depending on your mood , facing the other way we could watch the ladies of the night strut their stuff in the terraced houses over the road.

Of course activity was limited but the irony never escaped me and while the nuns worked feverishly to ensure our impressionable young minds were never allowed to stray too far from the doctrines of Catholicism , the real world was only a few paces away.

The rich fabric of life in all it's diversity was on our doorstep and again the ever pervading aura of death and despair was all too evident unless of course you could see the funny side.

I remember being asked by the Head nun to remove a dead cat stuck between the building and a bike rack. My friend and I had to extricate the cat and bury it in a plot of land that was later to become Coles shopping centre - we would later laugh that we reckoned it was probably under the deli department.

I can still see the stiff rigor mortis riddled body of this sad black cat and marvel at how at no point did we ever question this task.

School days were marked by a rigid school uniform code including sockets that were worn over our shoes in order to avoid marking the floor and pinafores that covered our uniform.

The floors we struggled so hard to protect were  actually cleaned by us as we were a handy source of cheap labour .

Other fun uniform facts include the nuns' perverse pleasure following us as we ventured home from Fremantle to make sure we were wearing our hats and gloves and heaven forbid we shed said items in transit we were held up for public ridicule next assembly.

I have memories of sitting outside my maths room for YEARS - my high school history teacher accusing me of running a conspiracy, being tyrannised by ruthless music and Drama teachers who loved nothing more than to rap your knuckles or scream in your face if you mispronounce lieutenant .

Oh and the cane - let's not forget the cane.

You learned to play hockey by having the sticks wrapped around your shins but played on regardless.

I learned to read and write and other fun facts and am grateful in part for my rigid respect for time and organisation .

We did have hot chips for lunch every Friday from the school tuck shop 😀

I like reflecting and realise that I have a lot for which to be grateful - resilience and tenacity and a full conventional education that has allowed me to appreciate community and the power of knowledge - maybe not a direct result of my school days but definitely by default .

Could have been worse - could have become a Nun 😀😇

#schooldaysbluedays

Master of suspence

Watching a documentary about the master of suspense - Alfred Hitchcock - I was intrigued by his place in history as one of the most memorable directors of suspense movies.

Always a fan of his films I really enjoyed the simply woven story lines,  the use of light and shade and the building of suspense through use of symbols and timing rather than dialogue.

He commented that he always had an interest in the slow build up that makes suspense.

He stated that in order  to have Suspence the audience has to have certain information .

He recounted stories of his childhood that helped his grasp of chilling noises , sound effects and elements of terror.

He talked of tales of school when the head teacher would dole out 6 six of the best for any minor indiscretion. Shivering young hands never knew when the cane would pounce , never knew when the punishment would be dolled out by dark seemingly horrifying harbingers of childhood  terror.

He also remembered a time when his father sent him on an errand to a policeman who took him to a darkened cellar, put him into a room and shut the door, telling him that was the fate of boys who were bad.

Hitchcock remembers that the clanging shut of the door was the most horrifying sound that set the scene for the following 5 minutes of fear marked by the unknown and it was this kind of suspence that saw his films achieve such success.

I realise now that the universal appeal of his classic films is the fact that he used simple childhood fears and wove them into the audience's collective imagination. He goes onto to say that he was so moved by this experience that he never learned to drive for fear he would be pulled over by a policeman and put into a cell.

I had just had a moving sesssion with a psychic who gave me some measure of peace about things unsaid and unmentioned from my past.

The psychic had said that my past was marked  by darkness and then revised this to say 'sadness' and while I have fond memories of growing up much like Hitchcock I have some memories that have made a big difference to the way I grew up.

Educated by nuns in a strict convent environment I have harsh memories of being told every morning during religious instruction that we were all only here for a short time and at any given moment we could die - be ready we were told as impressionable 6 - 10 year olds that we might not wake up - this teamed with us being made to kiss nuns who had passed in their coffins left me with an enduring fear of sleep and foreboding of death. Night terrors were common and so started a lifetime of sleep disorders. Remembering this was also the era of corporal punishment and black board dusters thrown with frightening accuracy, not to mention being force fed tepid morning milk so there were many similar incidents that must have resulted in young scarred minds.

I reflected that though worlds apart Hitchcock and I shared something. We had childhood memories that though seemingly insignificant had made a lasting impression that would take us to a very challenged adulthood.

My mind then turned to this blog and how liberating it has been to share my thoughts - it has helped me make sense of things.

I have often been critical of fb posters who delight in telling every piece of the minutiae of their day - you know the type - those who can't help but share everything from their bowel movements to minute by minute holiday accounts and as much as I love FB I struggled with some material on my newsfeed.Don' t get me wrong I love photos and stories - often they have taken me to a happy place and connected me with friends in faraway places giving me a much needed sense of belonging to a wider community. The odd posts sharing whinges about first world gripes I now see as having a very useful purpose because without the ability to share them  they might just turn into a darkness that has no bounds.

I now realise that FB can actually be a very therapeutic means of unloading and reaching out to others who may just share similar fears and worries and collectively we can see them for what they are and get over them.

My childhood was marked by not sharing fears and thinking that everything was normal until nothing was 'normal'.

After all False Evidence Appearing Real is all it ever was and maybe if it had been shared it would have been seen to be just that very thing.

#

Tick tock - no clocK 👍

My motivation for this blog was varied - I wanted to document a life in transition, put my addled thoughts on paper for later reflection and to find my genuis.

I was advised by a wiser more articulate head than mine to 'not be perfect but be prolific'

Prompted by events of the day I managed to be pretty regular - then life got in the way and for the first time in my life I appeared to not have an opinion about absolutely everything and the writing stopped.

Not one for doing things half cocked - good bad or indifferent. I wondered at my sudden drought and decided to write about 'Retirement life'. Ho hum.......

Lets be honest - my retirement days run with the same attention to time and military precision as my teaching days. The beauty of 40 years in Education is that you become a walking clock - living in pockets of time and eeking out sessions into days into weeks into months into terms into semesters into years.........

So - my day - wake up at around 6 30 , have a shake, sort the animals , take Ionix and supplements get dressed and ready for gym.

Do a class. Go home. Go to the shops - pay bills- have a chai latte and read the paper, finding some titillating little item that is bound to be fodder for a blog entry.

Home again - lunch- and ready to look at business and self development.

A dose of rubbish TV and animal time before more supplements and a snack and back to the gym.

Home to Healthy mind and Body and a bar , catching up on emails and social media and then more crap telly and bed

Depending on weather and occasion, slight variations involve dog walks, visits with friends, lunch with Leigh and Sian and other appointments .

Not really riveting reading.

My one realisation about retirement is that it has allowed me time to reflect and change my mindset.

Of late I have been challenged with some significant financial setbacks that would have in the past had me rolling into a fetal ball, whining , stressing and achieving nothing.

I am so grateful for the time I have spent on 'ME'

I really see every day as an opportunity for new growth and view challenges in a positive light.

As routine and robotic as my days appear I look forward to every encounter and challenge as a sign that I can make changes with a healthier mindset.

I have discovered that without stressing over everything your mind is able to focus on options  and be proactive about finding a solution - because there always is one if not more.

I have discovered that there is always a bright side and even if they are few and far between there is always another day and another problem and if they form the basis of your days life will disappear before you have lived it.

Sounds like a platitude and something from a Hallmark card but really if I have anything to say about retirement it is that I am SOOOOO grateful for the chance to actually figure out how to enjoy my days.

I still have issues and 'problems ' but I don't let them control me and inevitably they seem to pale into insigificance.

I wish I'd had this insight when I was raising the children and life would have been so much calmer and things may have been so much easier - but coulda woulda shoulda and I can only hope that they haven't been too affected by the catastrophising of their days in between the sports and parties and school.

There will always be bills to pay , cars always need repairs, relationships  falter but life goes on and we can embrace that life with all its ups and downs or just go through the paces.

I have really learned to 'smell the chai latte'👍😀

#healthymindset

In the soup🍵

A couple of years ago I had need to transport soup to Leigh's house.

I had made my renown pumpkin soup and it  remains my only cooking success story.

Thinking it a good idea to carry it in an easy pour container I carefully stored it in the car and made my way gently down the kerb onto the road.

I had barely got the third tyre onto the road when the container rolled - the lid opened and the soup spilled all over the floor mat , leaving a distinctive orange tinge and an equally pungent aroma.

I quickly stopped the car, reversed and carefully negotiated the mat onto the lawn, realising that very little had survived in the container.

I see this scene unfolding as clearly as if it was yesterday as I couldn't believe my reaction.

This incident will always indelibly be the moment I realised the value of calm in a 'disaster'.

No story - No issue !!

I have always bordered on being a complete tribute to histrionics - ranting, raving and behaving completely unreasonably when confronted by what at first appears to be an insurmountable  problem.

Anyone who has been a single parent will say that it is a rewarding life but it has it's challenges.

As one who really did 'it her way' without any emotional or financial support, decision making for me became a real mine field.

Every time I had to find money or get things fixed or deal with childhood illness I had to figure it out on my own.

I would take a deep breath and soldier on, committed to my goal that my children would always feel loved and like everyone else- not the products of a ' broken family'.

So I ploughed on - robbing Peter to pay Paul and doing whatever had to be done - within reason. As a result I made a lot of mistakes and started to become very anxious as one after the other I had to run the gauntlet of bills, illness and domestic 'issues'

I'd feel my stomach knot and my palms sweat as yet another 'window pane' arrived in the letter box or another part fell off the car!!

After a while I had to recognise that good, bad or indifferent I had to own my decisions. This became very liberating as I realised that after a time everything done with the right intentions turns out somehow😀

When you face what feels like a massive abyss too hard to cross there is a certain anticipation much like 'here we go again .....' 

I will always remember the soup incident as the day I realised that I had done the hard yards and calm in the face of a storm is always the better way.

Faced with a few challenges at present that would have once had me running for cover, proscrastinating and rolling into a fetal ball - I realise that a calm head sees things so much better . I see things for what they are and I realise that though seemingly insurmountable in the moment problems come and go and only became issues if you let them.

I've learned the value of facing things head on and dealing with things straight away. Nip things in the bud and mountains stay mole hills.

Might be easy to say but trust me the ability to treat problems the same way you treat the good times is so liberating and way more productive.

In the soup🍵

A couple of years ago I had need to transport soup to Leigh's house.

I had made my renown pumpkin soup and it  remains my only cooking success story.

Thinking it a good idea to carry it in an easy pour container I carefully stored it in the car and made my way gently down the kerb onto the road.

I had barely got the third tyre onto the road when the container rolled - the lid opened and the soup spilled all over the floor mat , leaving a distinctive orange tinge and an equally pungent aroma.

I quickly stopped the car, reversed and carefully negotiated the mat onto the lawn, realising that very little had survived in the container.

I see this scene unfolding as clearly as if it was yesterday as I couldn't believe my reaction.

This incident will always indelibly be the moment I realised the value of calm in a 'disaster'.

No story - No issue !!

I have always bordered on being a complete tribute to histrionics - ranting, raving and behaving completely unreasonably when confronted by what at first appears to be an insurmountable  problem.

Anyone who has been a single parent will say that it is a rewarding life but it has it's challenges.

As one who really did 'it her way' without any emotional or financial support, decision making for me became a real mine field.

Every time I had to find money or get things fixed or deal with childhood illness I had to figure it out on my own.

I would take a deep breath and soldier on, committed to my goal that my children would always feel loved and like everyone else- not the products of a ' broken family'.

So I ploughed on - robbing Peter to pay Paul and doing whatever had to be done - within reason. As a result I made a lot of mistakes and started to become very anxious as one after the other I had to run the gauntlet of bills, illness and domestic 'issues'

I'd feel my stomach knot and my palms sweat as yet another 'window pane' arrived in the letter box or another part fell off the car!!

After a while I had to recognise that good, bad or indifferent I had to own my decisions. This became very liberating as I realised that after a time everything done with the right intentions turns out somehow😀

When you face what feels like a massive abyss too hard to cross there is a certain anticipation much like 'here we go again .....' 

I will always remember the soup incident as the day I realised that I had done the hard yards and calm in the face of a storm is always the better way.

Faced with a few challenges at present that would have once had me running for cover, proscrastinating and rolling into a fetal ball - I realise that a calm head sees things so much better . I see things for what they are and I realise that though seemingly insurmountable in the moment problems come and go and only became issues if you let them.

I've learned the value of facing things head on and dealing with things straight away. Nip things in the bud and mountains stay mole hills.

Might be easy to say but trust me the ability to treat problems the same way you treat the good times is so liberating and way more productive.

Innocence lost.......

I remember when I was young , everyone described Perth during the post Edgar Eric Cooke era as having lost its innocence .

Previously we left doors open when we left the house.

Windows were ajar to catch a summer breeze.

Our dogs were allowed to roam the street unfettered by leads and routine and returned at the end of each day much like neighbourhood children.

We lived on big blocks secured only by little picket fences and there was no such thing as alarms or security doors.

Most homes sported 'sleep outs' , wonderful open air bedrooms that effectively were just beds on back verandas ,open to the elements and possible advances from creepy crawlies.

When Cooke launched his infamous mark on history and made Perth aware of it's mortality - everything changed. We became paranoid and conscious of the fact that there are dangers and in a response to the unknown our homes became fortresses and our free and easy life style became a little more reserved .

That was the time when the most isolated city in the planet became isolated in perspective and attitude and inescapably parochial.

I spent many years working in the Pilbara and the Kimberley , wide open spaces that spanned majestically across the panorama for as far as the eye could see, seemingly unspoiled and liberated and full of promise and adventure.

I resisted returning to Perth during school holidays , preferring to travel to Bali or New Zealand or 4 wheel drive through the outback, discovering isolated outposts and settlements and really feeling alive.

Isolation is really a state of mind - you can be in the most lone place on earth and still feel King of the world - I feel Perth has embraced the tag of 'isolation' a little too literally

My first memory of returning to Perth was one of gratitude as I felt city life would offer more for my growing  family .

My second memory was a little less positive.

 Having come from Dampier where a trip to the shops for a loaf of bread could take a couple of hours because every second person wanted a chat, Perth was a little daunting.

People seemed to regard you suspiciously if you met eye contact and originally I found Perth very isolating. Gratefully I found friends when I went in search of friends and playgroups for my children.

Now at a new phase of my life I do not find Perth a welcoming environment - it is potentially a very lonely city.I love the gym and it has been a wonderful social experience and given me some new friends. I am grateful for the life of freedom that I enjoy but I also see the limitations of this little backwater.

I have always loved the freedom and energy of the North and have a natural aversion to city life - not to mention the weather.

I object to the shortsighted infrastructure - roads constantly in need of updating despite ever increasing immigration.

I object to a government which is leading us into an abyss once the mining boom really dissipates.

I remember when living in Kununurra the local businessmen called for secession from the rest of Australia as bureaucracy was blocking the progress of local trade .

Perth seems to have managed to have seceded successfully without too much effort 

Yet again we are three hours behind the rest of the country.

I appreciate the beauty, the freedom and the pace of life makes Perth an Eden and in some ways idyllic.

 

Maybe it's just this interminable wintry weather that is making me a negative nelly

After all - weather is one of claims to fame - seems we are losing that notoriety as well 👍😀

#whingingforaustralia #parochialperth