We moved into our north facing ninth floor apartment on a chilly dreary Monday, two days ago.
This opaque view is taken from my sofa spot, gazing over Eagle Farm, beyond Morton Bay, towards the Pacific Ocean on the horizon.
The sun’s rise silhouettes the appendages of a dracaena gifted by Clarice in the year we arrived in Australia, 1998.
Time for change
Sunday serenity disrupted:
“Zee-earning” dirt bikes,
Mowers rattle ‘n’ roar,
Whipper snippers “Buzz-err-err-zeeping”,
Avian cacophony; “chit chat,” “caw,” “screech,” “tweet tweet tweeting,” and
Insane, incessant insects thrumming.
Planning. Packing. Downsizing.
Time waits for no one.
Calm restored-
This view’s days are numbered.
Midas’ late afternoon light
Gilds the garden,
Revealing lush, emerald vibrance.
Warmth wanes; wakening, Winter wins-
Heralding pastures new.
I can’t remember how I came to the conclusion my paternal great grandmother’s surname was Walton. Maybe the assumption was due to COVID delirium and wishful thinking. After all living in Shropshire, there was a fair chance distant relatives may have been from neighbouring Wales. I was certainly pleased when I identified Martha’s mother had Welsh ancestry.
After receiving my DNA results, I excitedly used the above assumption to label mother and father influences.
Recent mixed emotions have negatively impacted my motivation for researching the family tree. I was pleased about unknowingly visiting places my ancestors had lived and disillusioned, I was making little progress in identifying potential Scottish, Dutch, and Danish heritage.
Then a few hints from other family trees suggested Martha’s surname was Adams with ancestors solidly from Shropshire not Wales. Hm, maybe I have my parentage confused, I thought.
Checking in on a second and third cousins’s DNA results, whom I’ve never met, revealed the maternal line is rich in family from. Welsh, Scottish, Dutch, and Danish regions. I switched the parental influences and explored a strong tie to Yorkshire and generations of Turpins. This surname has Danish heritage.
In the ‘80s, I was thrilled to visit the newly opened Jorvik Viking Center, depicting imagined tenth century scenes of York during the time of the Vikings.
Perhaps my granddad’s middle name of Havelock had been a clue all along. It has Scandinavian, Danish, and Old Norse origins.
Weary tears
Moisten lower lashes
Insufficient to fall free
Achy orbital cavities
Constrict the oculi
Head wrenching yawns
Cause sore jaw
Ear piercing pain
Drills drum deep
Bark parched throat clenches
Crunched up squashed in
Fifty minutes’ commute
Will soon be over
For the last countless weeks we have been selling off and donating our chattels so that we can scale down our footprint from 116 m2 (on a block of 686 m2) to 85 m2 on the ninth floor of an apartment building among city lights.
Our two year retreat in the country is drawing to a close. An immersion in nature especially in being adopted by magpies have helped us to heal our hellish experience of life in a townhouse development.
Today our house goes to market with the first open inspection on 10 May 2025.
Coincidently, today, Saturday, 3 May 2025, Australia votes. Temporary polling stations across the country, emblazoned with party colours welcome some whilst worrying others. The reward of a Democracy Sausage, biscuit or cake afterwards turns the experience into an Aussie outing.
Here, it is against the law if you do not vote without a valid reason for being unable to do so. There is an admin fee of $20 to pay plus if you end up in court, a fine if convicted, and responsibility for the Australian Electoral Commission’s costs too.
I wondered if there is a free AI tool I could use to turn doodled concepts into smooth and tidy patterns. I tried a few online products with annoying pop up sign up ads.
The result was okay however, I was unable to move beyond basic tidying. Taking out a free one week trial subscription with Fotor and an app for iPhone, I was able to produce the more pleasing results below.
Is it cheating, though?
The DNA results are in with reassuring and surprising results.
Knowing my maternal ancestors hailed from the Midlands, specifically Staffordshire, it was likely there would be a family connection to neighbouring Warwickshire.
With a maternal and paternal surname of Jones, I was thrilled to learn of Welsh roots. My father’s paternal family lived in Shropshire bordering Wales whilst his mother’s family lived in south east England, Kent.
Surprisingly, I have higher percentages of Scottish, Danish, and Netherlands heritages than Welsh.
As a toddler, I had platinum curly locks. Over time they straightened and darkened to mid/dark brown. I wonder if this is the Danish and Dutch influence.
Using the results, I experimented with AI image generators: Show me what a brown eyed, 61 year old male might look like with the following DNA: 73% England and northwestern Europe, 16% Scotland, 5% Denmark, 4% The Netherlands, 2% Wales. He is 1.7m tall and 10kg overweight.
This final image is the closest to my appearance, spooky!
When thinking of Norse god, Thor, I imagine thunder and lightening storms. Yesterday morning, in contrast, the journey to the station was gloriously lit by a light orange, pink, pale blue, wispy grey dawn.
Below a shot of one of my favourite views from the station. Glimpses of the heavens reflected in Saltwater Creek surrounded by silhouetted trees.
As the sky lightened with deeper reds and golds, I took a picture near Petrie station.
At the end of the day, whilst awaiting the arrival of the 4:20 to carry me home, thinking again of Thor, I captured a view of the platform, steel rails, and wall opposite.
This morning I used the double exposure filter to overlay the images in Google Snapseed to create the top image. I like the result.
Earth’s magnetism channeled through beings,
Is it a catelyst for amassing?
Maybe it arose after emancipation from a modest childhood
And Mom’s mission of making do?
Or perhaps a mammal’s natural need for nesting?
Necessities and niceties for a fuzzy bunny to attract a big cat mate?
Three score years of accepting, acquiring, accumulating.
Even emigrating, moving interstate; a reluctance to release, relinquish and renounce as we ‘may need it one day’.
As hour grains run faster, we the tiger and the rabbit reflect and act upon reality;
The compulsion for conservation of capitalist commodities has contracted.
Burdensome belongings bring joy no more.
Deliberately we’re divesting, downsizing, disencumbering.
With lightness of mind body and soul,
We are distilling dreams to design a direct destination,
Carefully eking out the remainder for our next stage of life.
Winnie-The-Pooh by A. A. Milne, illustrated by E. H. Shepherd was one of my first favourite childhood books. I won a paperback copy early in infant school for a hand painting picture. There was a commemorative ex libris inside the front cover detailing the award, my name, date, and class.
I was once described as being like Eeyore. The old gray stuffed donkey character. According to Wikipedia, ‘generally characterised as pessimistic, depressed, and anhedonic.’
I see myself more like Winnie-the-Pooh. ‘Despite being naïve and slow-witted, he is a friendly, thoughtful and sometimes insightful character who is always willing to help his friends and try his best.’ (Wikipedia)
Upon reflection, Pooh represents my usual optimistic self whereas Eeyore is an inner glum voice.
On Tuesday, my manager took me into a small meeting room for a ‘there’s nothing wrong’ discussion. I was momentarily lulled into a false sense of security. After a preamble of ‘change is a good thing’ and information I already knew, I learned of a reorganisation. In line with a company policy of a maximum of ten in a team, a need to build capability, and improve customer service, I was being moved to another team, the week after next.
I don’t operate well face to face when feeling threatened. Becoming a faun; externally, I appease and please, adopting a vulnerable and cautious stance despite inner turmoil. I expressed guarded displeasure then returned to my desk in stunned silence.
In the five and a half years with my current employer, I have worked in the same team, focussed on supporting clients back to state funded health roles after sustaining workplace injuries. During this time, I have experienced two challenging line managers and two wonderful ones. The uncertainty of a new manager, new team dynamics, and colleagues with limited knowledge and experience in supporting health clients felt overwhelming.
In engaging with change, I remind myself of Pooh’s sunny disposition, a source of comfort and inspiration. While uncertainty looms, I’ll lean on his resilience, turning negatives into positives and crafting strategies to adapt. Writing this post is my first small step toward accepting the shift and embracing the unknown. I still have a job, and I will navigate this chapter with optimism and determination. Change may be daunting, but it’s also a powerful catalyst for growth.
theINFP 