The Banal Chew

Pop's the Tops

I just hung up the phone from chatting with my dad. He is in hospital again. Thankfully, the prognosis is good, as all tests have come back clear. This is another (and hopefully final) hurdle to jump, post-treatment. His spirits are good, and I have to say that if I can sound anywhere nearly as kind, happy and youthful as he does when I am a septuagenarian, I will be content. What he has been through over the past couple of years is enough to make anyone sound weary, but he doesn't. His stamina and dogged will to overcome some scary medical adversity make me sincerely ashamed of my recent kvetching. I owe it to him to stay strong.

Adios, Tucson from afar!

The day is almost upon us.  By the time I rise tomorrow morning, Mark and Zane (and I, by extension) will be enjoying a final evening in Tucson.  The time for their return to Australia is here.  Neither is happy about it in a way.  Quite simply, they love the life we shared while in the US.

Through the experience of earning his doctorate and the subsequent year in academic training, Mark has further matured professionally and is eager to enter the world of academic law.  During the two years in Tucson, Zane has shed the skin of childhood and entered those delicate years as a teenager.  His development and maturity during the past couple of years still astound us.  He excelled academically, achieved a sense of independence and became a highly competitive swimmer. During the year that I lived in Tucson with them (July 2009 to May 2010), we managed to reconnect with family and friends in the Northern Hemisphere, but we also made new friends. There are a great many memories I will cherish forever.

Although they are both excited for us all to be under the same roof again, I am sure Mark and Zane are grieving over the need to leave their life, our life, in a very different and unique place.  I experienced it when I had to leave Tucson in May 2010 and return to Sydney, in order to begin my new position with Coro Innominata. 

I like Tucson very much, and over the 9 or 10 years I have lived there on and off, I have been happy to call it home.  It saddens me to think that this may have been the last time.  Oh, yes. We will be back in Tucson for visits, but for now, I will rejoice in the fact that my family will be together again. Finally.

Cockatoo Island / Biennale of Sydney

Hooray! Another day off work to spend with Zane.

This time we went to Cockatoo Island, a former convicts prison site and shipyard in the middle of Sydney Harbour.  Roughly a 20-minute ferry ride from Circular Quay, Cockatoo Island now belongs to the Sydney Harbour Federation Trust, which is transforming it into a unique attraction.  Visitors to the Island (free admission) can walk around the entire area and explore most of the old industrial and prison buildings.  The site also offers camping and holiday housing. 

Throughout the year, a number of special events are hosted on Cockatoo Island.  Zane and I saw many of the artworks installed as part of the 17th Biennale of Sydney.  The Biennale of Sydney, curated this season by David Elliott, is one of the oldest and largest of its kind.  Contemporary artworks from a range of international artists are installed all over the island.  Many pieces were designed specifically for this event, either in keeping with Cockatoo Island's history or specifically for the exhibit space. 

  I found the juxtaposition of the desolate nature of most of the seemingly deserted buildings with the slick, colorful and often ultra-modern appeal of the artworks compelling.  It was a fascinating day, and I am glad Zane and I got to share it together.

 

Many more photos from our day at Cockatoo Island, along with artist credits for the works shown in the above photos, can be seen here.

Taronga Zoo

Yesterday I took the day off work and spent it with Zane.  It was a gorgeous winter day in Sydney. 
We boarded a ferry from Circular Quay and headed over to Taronga Zoo, just across the Harbour in Mosman. 

Taronga Zoo, opened in 1916, is situated on 50+ acres of remarkable land atop Bradley's Head.  It is home to the Cammeraigal people, but it, like so many other areas, was taken from them during colonization. 

The view of the Harbour from the Zoo is stunning.  It boggles the mind to imagine how much this land would be worth to greedy developers.  I find it strangely comforting that these animals have what are probably the best views of the Harbour and city from their homes.  It's the least we humans could do for keeping them in captivity.

Zane and I enjoyed our day together.  I will certainly miss this little guy when he returns to the US next week.

You can view all the photos from our day at the Zoo at my Flickr page.

Getting a grip

Want to hear about something sad?  Other than pelicans covered with crude oil or yesterday's government-sanctioned execution by firing squad in Utah, I mean?  Those are sad in a way that makes a person either break down and sob from grief, or angrily clench one's fists, tears welling during a tantrum of enraged disbelief.

No, this kind of sad is different.  It's a sadness people don't want to hear about.  It's a sadness I don't much want to talk about, but it's there.  It is the sadness of fleeting despair.

It's official:  I am a sook...not the female crab, thank goodness, but a cry baby.  All week, I have wept at least once daily.  We're not talking a careless wipe of the eye to whisk away the annoying presence of moisture.  These are big tears, usually induced by a sudden, breath-snatching fit of crying that would make Orpheus pack up his lute and go home.

I'm not proud of this.  Heck, I know it's okay to cry, but really.  Enough is enough.  

So what is it?  Well, it's a lot of things, I think. 

Most immediately, it is the gripping loneliness that took hold of me Tuesday morning, when I awoke to realize that Mark's brief visit to Sydney was over.  He was indeed gone, and my fate was consigned to what seems like months of agonizing solitude without him or Zane by my side. 

It is also the silence of this house as I sit here and work day to day, my only audible companions the sound of NPR personalities streaming over the computer, or the weirdly comforting gurgles made by our critters as they snore during their daytime slumbers. 

Okay, time for some happy news!  Starting Sunday, I will have Zane back in the house for about a week and half cumulatively.  He is an amazing young person whose company I have not had the exclusive pleasure of being around for months.  I simply cannot wait to reconnect.  I plan to take some time off work, and I am greatly looking forward to our time together before he, too, returns to the US for the next 10 months.  As young people do when adolescence approaches, he is changing rapidly.  I have no doubt the next year will bring about remarkable progress for him, just as the past year has.

As I have described already, the year gone by has been amazing, and maybe it is the year's passing that I lament.  Oh, it was hard at times, but it also proved resplendent.  I am a transformed person in some ways.  My attitude is stronger, my convictions shaken but fiercely resilient, my love for family renewed with a vigor that I never expected, and my affection for the men in the household soaring at a dizzying altitude.  Deep down, however, I know I am still Sandy.  I doubt I can change all that much, especially at this age, but I think that I can improve.  And I hope that all those people who have made me who I am, be they friends, family or colleagues, understand that. 

My therapist in Arizona would tell me not to worry.  To process all this like I would knead bread dough.  To "work it, girl!"  And perhaps that's exactly what I should do.  Make bread.  And then share a slice or two over a glass of wine with the friends and family that I know are here in Sydney, waiting for me to call.  Waiting for me to get over my big, bad, predictable self. 

So bear with me folks.  My sook days will draw to an end.  I'll emerge from this with my usual embarrassed shrug.  And those close to me will be somewhat annoyed, wondering if I am again denying them access to my feelings.  But no one will say anything.  No one has to.  They know me, and they know that this big sook is okay.

Daddy 'Mones

In a recent Utne article, it was reported that current research suggests fatherhood is good for the brain.  Apparently, some kind of chemical mystery occurs that makes dads more "canny and resourceful".  Hmm.  It caught my attention.

Then I realized that they're talking about the sperm donor.  I'm a stepfather, so I guess I'll remain uncanny and at a loss for what to do. 

Anyway, here's the statement.

Loving a woman and fathering her children changes a man’s body and brain in ways that make him more canny and resourceful, while improving his ability to handle stress. At the same time, living with the woman he loves alters a man’s hormones and neurochemistry to make him a better mate.

Upon reading this, I cannily and resourcefully walked over to the trashcan and hurled.  Sounds like a bunch of right-wing, fundamentalist-fueled (and funded?) work to me, used as grounds for anti-nontraditional-family propaganda.  The original research is headed up at the University of Virginia, arguably not a hotbed of diversity and progressive thought.

Anyway, I feel smarter having a kid in my life, but that's probably because I get to share my, ehem, vast knowledge and wisdom with him.  I have to admit, however, that I'm not sure about the increased ability to handle stress.  I'm still working on that.

Photo by Tom A., licensed under the Creative Commons

Schulaufgabe

During the course of getting ready for a 10-month move, I've spent many hours organizing Zane's life while sorting, weeding and packing.  When we moved into our Waterloo townhouse in early summer of 2006, Zane was ready to start Year 3.  Now's he's halfway through Year 6.  It's been fun getting him organized. 

One of my fondest memories will always be Zane sitting beside me in the attic a couple of days ago, helping me shuffle through reams of old homework to find those rare items of squeal-inducing [kid you not] memorabilia.  But watching his eyes light up as he reminisced about his experiences at the school we chose for him is half worth the money, often scarce as hen's teeth, shelled out for the tuition.  The other half will come when he's made something of himself after all this learning and maturing.  I won't be the nagging father, however.  Oh no, I'll just provide an encouraging nudge now and again. 

Here are two of my favorite items unearthed over the previous few days.

From a project on towers. Zane chose the Empire State Bldg.

-----------------------------

Prayer for the 21st Century
by Zane

May there be no wars.
May there be no greenhouse gases.
May there be more books.
May everyone be a hero.
May there be no bad people.
May everyone travel safe.
May everyone and everything be free.
May the world be full of peace.
May the world be quiet.
May everything in the world be free.
May there be no homework.
May there be no bullying.
May some people not be strict.
May people help the poor.
May people die from old age.
May everyone do what they want.

A Good Egg

President Obama has invited LGBT families to the White House Easter Egg Roll this year.

"We must do more to support and strengthen LGBT families. Because equality in relationship, family, and adoption rights is not some abstract principle; it's about whether millions of LGBT Americans can finally live lives marked by dignity and freedom."

Obama Presidential campaign speech, 2008

Pretty cool, indeed!

Happy Birthday, Bloss

One of the benefits of selling our car is that we now get to ride the train more.  Despite all the frustrations with NSW trains, and the Sydney ones in particular, I never tire of this mode of transportation.  We didn't ride trains when I was a kid.  There weren't really any passenger-type ones around in the stomping grounds of my childhood. In fact, I rode my first train after I'd moved to Europe in the late 80s. 

I bring this up, because Mark, Zane and I rode the train from Sydney to Wollongong today for a family get together to say happy birthday to Bloss, Mark's sister.  I've blogged about this particular 1.5 hour trip before, so I won't go into it too much.  It was a good day for it, though.  A perfectly warm autumn day was on offer, and that made it all especially groovy. 

Horses in the paddock...

waves on the beach...

sun on one's shoulders (Mark, his mum and brother)...

and skin.  Lots of it.

Yep, a good day.

Tassie

We are back from Hobart, where we went for Mark's Fulbright Scholar Orientation and Award Presentation Dinner.  It was my first time there.

Only a couple of hours after we landed, I joined a group of people for the Mt Wellington Descent bike ride.  I was retrieved from my hotel and driven up the mountain, which stands just outside of Hobart.  After we reached the top, bikes were unloaded, helmets and gloves dispensed, a few pictures were taken, and off we went.  Here are a couple of photos.  More can be seen in my Flickr collection.

The view from the pinnacle of Mt Wellington

------------

Just before the descent

------------

We got to ride off road a few times.

------------

Our ride ended at Sandy Bay.  Fitting, eh?

------------

Hobart, Australia's second-oldest city, is charming.  Our hotel was a short walk from Salamanca Square, where there were lots of options for eating and shopping.  One of my favorite restaurants was the Machine Laundry Cafe...a must-do for breakfast. 

The Fulbright Award Presentation Dinner was held at the Moorilla Winery.  I was proud of my man for his achievement.  Our dear friend Alison came along.  She and I are Fulbright Alums ourselves.  The experience brought back memories, although the Aussie Fulbright award activities are much more substantial (and entertaining) than in the U.S.  Here are a couple of photos.  As before, many more are in my Flickr collection.

Sandy, Mark & Alison

------------

All cleaned up

--------------

On our final day in Hobart, Mark and I went for a visit with TJ, a blogger pal and another American who followed his heart to Australia.  He and his partner live in a wonderful older home overlooking the city and water.  Beautiful!  I look forward to keeping in touch with them more and more.  (In my rush, I forgot my camera, so no pics I'm afraid.  Next time.)

--------------

A number of Mark's family came to Hobart to celebrate Mark's award with us.  I really enjoy being around them.  They are a very loving bunch.  The eight of us piled in a mini-van and did a few hours of sight-seeing in historic Richmond Village before we had to head to the airport.  Lots of convict history in Richmond.  Lots.

More photos here.