Bless me Blogosphere for I have been self-disciplined, it’s been 21 days since my last espresso shot…
It’s that time in the Christian calendar known as Lent and while we in our branch of Christianity don’t generally observe Lent we have been known, from time to time, to undertake periods of prayer and fasting.
This one has been a 21 day fast rather than the full Lenten 40.
For 3 weeks before I went to America back in ’06 I fasted everything except veges, fruit and meat…This time? Caffeine and Alcohol…
Do you need me to tell you which was harder? Yeah… no margaritas… and no morning brews on the way to work.
In praise of the whole process I’m happy to say that it has saved me a tidy sum… so maybe I should try and be a little less likely to stop on the way to work… maybe restricting myself to a flat white on a Saturday morning could be the go…
Sounds like a good idea…
But I don’t like my chances…
Linear Progression
I have long been fascinated by the life of one woman, one I’ve never met and about whom I knew very little as I was growing up. Very little but for the fact she died to give my mother a chance. I’ve told the story before, if you want to know more read the boob-checking stories in my archives. Edna Marian, my grandmother and I were born in the same month (but we’re not the same star sign if you follow that sort of thing) though some 19 years before I was born.
I had the opportunity in my last holiday back home to duck down to Wellington to spend some time with my Aunt and her cousin (and my mother’s cousin too, of course) to delve a little into some of the family history, and to give me a bit of a picture of who Edna Marian was and by extension, who a little part of me is…
Actually we’ll start with her mother, Clara Ellen – born in NZ in 1871, married my grandfather John Henry and had 5 children, my grandmother Edna Marian was their youngest.

Edna Marian Heron, my grandmother, born I’m not sure when but died in 1949 after a run in with breast cancer. Mother of 5, grandmother of 12, great-grandmother of 24, if I’ve counted correctly…


I’m sorry I don’t have pictures of her as an adult, these ones were taken on the run. Next time I’m home I plan to get some from my mother. Actually i know I have Edna’s wedding photo somewhere but for the life of me I can’t lay my hands on it…
Edna was the first to carry the Marian middle name, my mother Wendy was the next. She too is born in April. She’s pretty extraordinary, graduating with her Bachelor of Nursing in her early 50’s and surviving a pretty massive car crash not much later. Mother of four, grandmother of [almost] seven!

Then there’s me. Soon to be 40, not married, no kids and occasionally seriously pissed off about that.

I have great nieces and nephews and god-kids who I count as dearly as my own kin. But if I’m really honest, and as my eyes swim a little while I think about these things, I see this line of women from whom I come and I’m thrilled to be a part of it. Really thrilled.
But I’d really hate for it to end with me.
I Give Up
I’m done
I have no answers
The future looks different than it did back then
and I do not understand
I do not understand why giving up
and letting go
is the only way
I do not understand a promise being unfulfilled
I do not know how many times I must
get in the ring for this one fight
I do not love that a calling demands sacrifice
I do not love that it is not a short term assignment
I would like an easy life
I would like to do it all
to have it all
I would like an out
But I owe more than I am owed
My part can not be sung by someone else
I give up
Sorry
To echo the thoughts of hundreds of other Australian bloggers.
It’s about time.
The day we said ‘Sorry’
Multimedia: Prime Minister Kevin Rudd says ‘sorry’
to the stolen generation in Parliament.
(Links to the Sydney Morning Herald Website)