Sanity is over rated

Ways to help ourselves in the time of covid19:

Avoid expert guidance from wealthy influencers who live in massive houses when you’re stuck in a small flat

Turn off the TV when the corona virus celebrity advice special comes on

Avoid listening to politicians who talk endlessly about the economy. We’re a community

Borrow a dog or a cat or a rabbit and stroke their fur to lower blood pressure

Wear your pyjamas all day if it helps

Send a postcard to a nursing home wishing the locked away oldies and nursing staff well

Check on your neighbours

Burn your bra

Enjoy your sleep in

Shop local

Cherish your time off the treadmill

Dream a little dream

Watch Gene Kelly dance in Singing In The Rain


Everything is disposable except people

A beautiful soul just left the earth too soon. I see too many sweet young souls die in my work life. I hope she is in the arms of the angels. One day cancer will be a bad memory.


I hope you’re dancing

Robin Gibb died today. The boogie of the Bee Gees was a big part of my childhood. I loved their tight, white pants, their blow dried hair and their harmonies. So many musicians who were a shining part of my youth have died in the last few weeks and I want to say thank you for the music that kept me dancing and kept me sane. Thank you Robin Gibb for your beautiful voice, it will live on.

 

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk.
Music loud and women warm.
I’ve been kicked around since I was born.
And now it’s all right, it’s OK.
And you may look the other way.
We can try to understand
The New York Times’ effect on man.

Whether you’re a brother
Or whether you’re a mother,
You’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.


Teenagers

Teenagers are like Queensland, beautiful one day, a nightmare the next.

On Saturday my 14 year daughter glanced down at her floor-drobe. She had nothing to wear but clothes that were fashionable at breakfast time. All this while I turn into an aging cougar. Except that I am the anti-cougar, the tracksuit pants wearing tragedy in tired trainers, wishing I had some energy left over from mothering and working to desire a makeover.

This week teenage beast cleaned up her floor-drobe and turned into an interior design fascist. She wants me to be the queen of minimalism on a single mother budget. If her sisters place so much as a Barbie on the floor she screams.

She is also a control freak about the music we listen to at home. I mention the Bee Gees and she looked blank. I said,

“Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth there were three brothers who wore tight white pants and hair-drier-fluffy-wind-blown hair singing falsetto disco hits.”

“Shit mum, they sound Palaeolithic.” There is no one more hip than a teenager and no one who has ever suffered more.

So I dedicate this song to her. Whether you’re a mother or whether you’re a brother…..