Theist or athiest?
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 3 commentsSo much talk of religion, God and such of late here in Nookland…
Here’s something thought-provoking from … well … let’s make this a competition… Guess who said this:
“It does not matter whether you are a theist or an athiest,
what matters is sincerity, forgiveness, and compassion.”
The secret
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 2 commentsDo you want to know a secret? Surely the answer is yes. I know I do.
What about we make a deal? I’ll tell y’all one of mine and then y’all tell me one of yours. OK? Here goes:
It was obvious from the date of mariage and the date of my mother’s birth that my gandmother was pregnant as she skipped - or, perhaps, waddled - down the aisle.
She married a man, Bill Jones we’ll call him, with whom she was deeply in love. “I always wanted to be Mrs Jones,” my grandmother has recounted on many occasions.
Years after my father had died and just days before my mother’s 54th birthday, a nurse in a neo-natal intensive care ward commented that my mother and her sister looked nothing alike. She even asked: “Personal question but, same father?” They both laughed and said yes and then told the humourous story to my grandmother. My mother also recounted this story to my great aunt, who said, “Actually, you’d better have a talk to your mother.” That is, my grandmother.
It transpired that while my grandmother was indeed pregnant at marriage, she was not pregnant by the man she was marrying. And he knew. She had been “sent away” to where unmarried mothers went in the 1950s. He had contacted her, pledged love - and marriage, which of course rescued her… from forced adoption, poverty and/or the humiliation of being an unmarried mother.
In case you’re wondering, by the time “all was revealed” both men had died.
Nooksters - got one to beat that? Do tell!
Revenge: gift ettiquette query
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 4 commentsYou may remember that WonderBoy received a gift of a book from someone who had recycled that gift - I know because it was US who gave her child the book! (See my previous post on gift ettiquette).
Well, we have just received an invite to said someone’s child’s party… should I re-recycle the book? How funny would that be?
Harvesting the suburbs
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 2 comments
Milling around trash at hard0rubbish time can be tricky; you never know where Oscar the Grouch might pop up.
For this reason, I do have one rule for my own hard-rubbish treasure hunts:
Never procure goods from your own street.
That way, if you do clash with a grouch, there’s the distance of at least a block between you and the muppet.
I find it best to harvest when fewer people are out and about - very early morning is good. Avoid weekends if poss.
I say: Reduce, REUSE, RECYCLE! … whoever gets there first.
And, seriously, it is not stealing. It’s borrowing. Long-term. Anything I have reaped will eventually become trash again … AT A LATER DATE.
For example, I have a toddlers’ castle with slide that had been sitting, ripe, on the footpath moments before the collectors were to arrive (I could hear their truck). Post-toddlerdom, my children will tire of it. And when they do, I’ll put it on the footpath at hard-rubbish time. See? By reusing and recycling this “trash”, I am but optimizing opportunities that the Universe provides.
Turn off Sesame St and turn on the Curious George movie (or soundtrack). Then tune in to the track Reduce, Reuse, Recycle by Jack Johnson!
Ever got in trouble for saying thank you?
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 5 commentsI recently got a serve for thanking someone for a job well done - from the someone that I thanked.
I would love to hear from anyone who has had a similar experience as this is brand new for me!
Meet the Real WonderWoman
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 5 commentsThe real nook WonderWoman has been revealed. Check out my new avatar.
This is truly me - aged 9 or so… with a bit of photoshopping from a friend to create a beautiful background (as opposed to the trees and people at my school fete in the original pic). I remember being a bit annoyed with my mother for not being able to provide GOLD (rather than yellow) Contact to make the eagle and belt and wrist bands.
Here is the evidence that I have ALWAYS wanted to be WonderWoman. Unfortunately, it took me until age 30 to work out that being WonderWoman is impossible.
And, importantly, I couldn’t fit into the costume anymore.
I love that I can still be WonderWoman here!
First yet clueless
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 2 commentsWhile there is photographic evidence of every minute detail of the life of Wonderboy (first child), the same cannot be said for the life and times of Wondergirl.
While I understand this is a common phenomenon, the question remains of how much damage this can do. Being an oldest child, I am clueless on this topic.
Second and subsequent children - please help…
Have you had to face photographic poverty when a sibling has an embarassment of riches? How did you take it? Do you think about it much?
I would like some idea of how much of an impact this may have on Wondergirl.
Recycling Gifts: The Rules
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 6 commentsWonder boy recently received a birthday gift of a book, among a package of gifts from one person. The interesting thing is, it was a book that he had given the giver for their birthday earlier in the year!
Should we be offended? I feel taking offence would be morally wrong as I have engaged in gift recycling myself. But, I hope, have never “returned” a gift to the original giver. With just six degrees of separation, are a proportion of all my gifts bound to come back to me I wonder?
Just what should be the rules on recycling gifts?
Should we be more honest and tell the givers at the time that we don’t like their choices? Would that be the way to live a more authentic life?
Mummy visits
Posted by WonderWoman in : My life , 2 commentsMy Queenslander mum is visiting for five days from today… so I am excited at the prospect of doing just a little less child-caring and a little more husband-caring. We even get to go out - without them! Hooray!
