On the brink Forever it seems Mind’s trudging a ridge On the brink Of a precipice False step into the abyss Ahead leads onwards Makes mental moments matter Buffeted By unseen Tormented Whispers taunt Spectral memories Look through me Shadow filled guilt-shame Sneaks behind New dawns and sunshine Redirect focus Horizon-bearing Hope Glimmers The wonder filled is Just beyond
A gift from my husband in 1995, includes a directory of businesses.
Period dreams Of parlour scenes, Of unseen teams of seams, Of ruffles, tucks, and pleats, And buffed beeswax scent. Ceiling traces chandelier shadows Of sweeping curlicue swirls.
‘Neath Corinthian cornice, Spiralling spires sneak Up Lincrusta frieze, Silent sentinel to Crackle-popping hearth’s Radiance, dancing Upon glazed sage tiles, landscapes, and portraits, hung high and low. Either side, old-gold-braid-framed moss velvet wingbacks slouch; ‘Twixt them purple paisley poufs pout.
Candelabra twirling fronds furl, Atop antique raspberry damask swathed mantel. Eternally Diana hunts above dado, Reflected in gilt encased overmantel.
Behind the bullion-fringed ivory brocade chaise, Fenestra layered by blinds and voile, Interlined Sanderson rose chintz drapes snuggle beneath Shrugging swags into tails. Against north’s icy past.
Dark oak polished parquet Washed by apricitic ruby, emerald, amber lights Borders muted-toned chinoiserie rug.
Panelled portal: a glimpse of Hands-‘n’-knees scrubbed, Geometric Victorian-tiled moiré-striped hall, Echoes heaven’s strain of “Twist again like we did last Summer”.
Week one of resuming pre-operation hours at work. Week two of commuting into the office two days per week.
Yesterday and this morning, I missed the first bus into town and the usual battle to alight on Adelaide Street. The second bus was thankfully sparsely populated at both the beginning and end of the journeys.
Arriving at my pre-booked desk around 7:20 am, I check in, wander around to locate the chair tagged with my name, unpack the laptop, exercise flexi-tube, mousepad, headset, phone charger cable, and food from my backpack, then retrieve the ergonomic keyboard, water flask, left-hand mouse, fan, cups, and Twinings Lady Grey teabags from my locker. This takes another ten minutes.
Hot-desking frees up resources, and leads to additional time being spent setting up and clearing away each day.
After logging into the laptop, opening the internet and launching cloud-based telephony, timesheet, chat, mail, calendar, notes, calculator, case list, work items, and AI; using TheraPutty and elastic bands to complete my hand exercises; catching up with teammates, both in person and online; and making a cup of tea, it is 8 o’clock — time for breakfast.
I’m much more productive on the three days I work from home.
Yesterday, following an hour participating in team cultural development, completing a proactive case review with my line manager and an external psychologist, and updating case notes, it was time to head off to my own psychology session.
Navigating my wheelie walker — I haven’t named it yet — across the varied textured pathways, ramps, roads, drains, potholes, service and manhole covers, and tactile indicators of Brisbane, my right hand was numb from the vibration. The right carpal release surgery is scheduled for 20 October.
I arrived late for my appointment, in pain from the hip, hot, sweaty and feeling stressed. We discussed this in the session in relation to goals versus values, and boom-and-bust cycles. I could relate to both concepts.
When able, I push myself, driven by a goal, without stopping to think about the impact on my values.
And I have a new one: independence.
I had this one wrapped up in authenticity. I find it amusing how values may pop up unexpectedly when they are challenged.
Community is another new one.
The trip home went like a dream: catching the 60 from Adelaide Street to Teneriffe Wharf, the ferry to Brett’s Wharf to be met by my husband and Stan, followed by a slow, controlled, supported hobble home.
The most delicious chicken Tom Yum soup served in an elevated bowl surrounding a spirit burner.
Lunch with work colleagues on Thursday at Phat Elephant, Brisbane. Located on the first floor overlooking Adelaide Street and Anzac Square. It can be accessed via Post Office Square to avoid the stairs.
On Friday, Carenza of Balmoral Urban Country Club, formerly School of Etiquette drove to us to deliver the “I love my Dad” bandanna before travelling overseas for their holiday, yesterday.
In his 17th year, Stan has significantly slowed down, sleeping deeply for most of the day. We caught him mid-doze for this picture. He would not usually pose.
On my graduated return to work, this week, I completed six hours on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
For two hours on Wednesday, I participated in an in-person two-hours’ workshop on improving conversations. Slido is used for participant feedback, I’m guessing to make it more accessible for everyone. I forgot and launched into a diatribe of an example of how I had fulfilled my employers goals, values, and demonstrated OARS (acronym starting O for open questions, A for affirmation, R reflecting, and S for summarising).
One of the two presenters thanked me for sharing and reminded me we were typing our responses. Whoops!
The next one, whoops that is, came when all those that were able to (I’m using a wheelie walker for mobility) needed to stand for Simon says put your hands on your head, Simon says put your hands on your shoulders, Simon says put your hands in your nose.
What an enjoyable moment until the presenter said “clap”. Guess who was the only one. Silence, faux-pas number two. Did this influence my ongoing participation? I was oblivious to the rules of Simon says. It must be five decades since I played it.
In youth Timex ticks endlessly Youngsters play days away Through learning Everything’s possible Hands begin to speed Teenagers’ yearning Anything’s achievable Young people retain potential Become discerning Grains slip away Through maturescence Candles’ burning Commitments lead to repetition Necessary for earning In prime of life Responsibilities’ concerning Hectic pace Life churning Into middle age Seasons’ turning Tumbling to sage years Some things no longer options Questioning Remembering Shedding Fading into Nothing