Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
At Brown Owls last night, someone asked me what my blog name was and I felt that I should explain to them why I call it fuffenscheit. Then I realised I don't think I have ever explained on the blog what the fuffenscheit is all about. So what the hell:
When my J was about one and a half, he was an avid ABC Kids watcher. One day he started asking over and over again for a particular show, saying "Wanna watch fuffenscheit, wanna watch fuffenscheit" Except he pronounced it fuffen- shoyt with a strong Aussie drawl. Me and the luthier could not figure it out, what was this show he was so damn keen on?
This went on for some weeks before it all became clear. One Sunday arvo, the Luthier sat on the couch, frustratedly flicking through the channels, muttering "I'm not watching this, what is this fuckin' shite..."
Dunno what it was but it obviously sounded pretty good to J.
So fuffenscheit went into common Smith household usage and came to mean just 'stuff and whatever". That's my blog, just Smith stuff and whatever.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Grace and Me
We head out into the world, Grace and me.
Treading surely on the Earth, our fingers tightly entwined,
we hit the road together.
We tear down the path,
shedding our layers as we run sunward,
beaming and grinning, light and free.
Raucous cubs, we race through fields,
wrestling and roaring, in the grasses
till our innards ache and that rascal laughter thieves our breath.
Wandering in our forest hides, we share our secrets, Grace and me.
With O’s for eyes, we cautiously unwrap and reveal our dreams.
Eye-to-eye the solemn oath is made to cherish and keep them always.
We tackle the rocks and toil the hard roads together, always together.
And when the bear clouds menace, growling and rumbling,
we stand strong.
On gloomy paths, a cheerless mist snakes itself around us.
Grace opens wide her arms and enfolds me like a blanket,
Her down-soft cheek barely rests on mine,
Grace is with me, with me, until that chill creeps on.
Now we are lost.
We stop. Silent. Still. We breathe together.
Leaning in close with a murmur for my ear,
Grace tells the way.
Up we go, hand in hand, to reach the sunny summit,
Our legs swinging as we overlook the Earth,
‘Ooh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’ at the fireworks and fireflies,
revelling in the show.
And when day sets and night ascends,
when we are weary and warm-wanting
we hit the road together. Grace and Me,
our fingers tightly entwined, we lead each other home.
Georgia Sutton Copyright 2011
Monday, July 04, 2011
Raining, raining, raining.
Three kids at home sick.
Cough, sniffle, splutter.
The dryer is broken.
But the tea is hot, and Cold Comfort Farm is quite comforting, doonas are on the couch and Harry Potter is on high dvd rotation.
This time of year always makes me restless, craving change, a new house, a big-assed plan, a new degree, any new idea that provides a distraction from the cold and the everyday, other than a block of chocolate a night.
Sensible people on the Island go north for the winter.
p.s. Our bullying issues were stopped by the school the day after I spoke to the teacher about my son's concerns, and she looked me in the eye and said "No child should ever feel like that at school." There has been no problem since. My son said "I don't know what they did to him Mum, but they took him away in the morning and ever since he came back he's been really nice." My wild imagination is picturing a white room and a bright light, like some CIA-style debrief or maybe a tazer or something, but whatever it was, it worked.