You know what? Someone hasn’t been seen on here for a while!

The boy! Did I share the fact that boy is 8 now? Hecksies…

I tried taking photos of him this afternoon in order to send photos to his great-grandmother. This is what we got:


Not really great grandma friendly!

Nor is this one, but I love it anyway. He loves coming home from school and jumping on the trampoline with a fair few water bombs and balloons and getting horrendously wet….

We’ll have to try grandma photos another day….



Sydney. Again. 5th time in four years. 2nd time in three months. Just for fun.

Every trip brings something different and special. Every trip tells a story that changes the next breath of time. My last big trip was a story of love and loss… the last one was experiences of the new. This time was a spectrum of relationships, how they change and how they change me. I learned more from this trip about myself than I probably have in the other days of this year. I spent the plane trip home just vomiting thoughts that had been playing on my mind during the trip. This is where having a strong relationship with your spouses (derby and life) comes in handy – they just listened, nodded and occasionally sent a thought back to the incubator. I have amazing people in my life, fo’shure.

I had a few little shocks to my little sense of self… that thing that is always transtioning. I nearly punched a guy, which is not my usual reaction to something that I do not want. I remember looking at him, thinking that he was bigger than me and then mentally targeting the first part of him that I would hit. I walked away, but that brief moment has changed my understanding of myself…He wasn’t a random, by the way. He had his arm draped around me and wouldn’t let go, despite me asking several times, super politely. I ended up using a low, loud voice and getting him to let go, but I still wanted to hit his flesh. I am not a creature to be violated and touched against my will. Talk about a hairline trigger.

I also caught up with someone I hadn’t seen in over 10 years – just one of those things that when he’s around, I’m not and so on and so forth. We watched a derby game together, it was nice to be in the same room with him. In my late teens, he was an absolute rock – listening and giving advice, as the older one of the two of us. Our lives ran on a strange parallel for a few years – when my relationships would end, his would, too. When our exes did the creepy ex-break up things – we could laugh about our stupidity in being attracted to the crazy. Hanging with him really took me back and forward at the same time.

I am not who I was, I am not who I will be and I am who I am.

On the Friday, I also ventured into the suburbs with a friend who has developed a method for letting go of the past. I continue to carry the relationships and misuses of the past on me. So that managed to get me thinking…

Through the midst of all this crazy, I couldn’t sleep. In 4 days, I think I slept the sum of about 11 hours. By the time I stumbled back through the door, I was on raving lunatic mode (and I headed straight to bed after the requisite snuggles and cuddles). Everything seems bigger when you don’t sleep.

The weeks after this have been recuperative in lots of ways… still working out where things fit. I’m so glad I went – even when things are hard, I’m glad I’ve done them. I learn from the challenges I am presented with… slowly sometimes, but surely.


Mr. Knockout

A few weeks ago, a lovely young man was born into this world. He had a slightly more complicated entry into this world than most, but I’m happy to report that he’s doing better than awesome now.

I haven’t heavily edited these, because I didn’t feel that was the right thing to do. These are literally a visual record of love in a time that was challenging. The keys in the background and hospital accoutrements are part of Mr. Knockout’s story of where he has come from and a reminder of how far he has come.


The Pwincess

This is the little miss that I call “the pwincess”. This was taken 36 hours after she was born… I met her mama through this roller skating business – she’s one of my fresh meat sisters.

2 months later, the little pwincess got to watch her mama strap her skates on again and practice. Well, she would have, if she was awake!

I know they are remarkably similar photos… but I love them both, so, just bear with me.

I love squishy baby cuddles… especially when they’re not mine!




Derby Digits

In my derby league, you have to wait until you’re a level before bouting before you can select your playing number. I picked my number a long, long, long time ago and have kept it in my mind ready to go for when I reached this level. All my fingers and toes have been crossed that someone else didn’t take the number…

And here I am.

Yesterday the number became mine!

Why I picked 242:

In 2009 a girl that shared a name with me passed away, I’ve talked about her a lot on here… so you can find out more by hunting the archives… but the 24th of February was her birthday. So now it’s my number.

It reminds me that I don’t know how long I am here for or what will come next. That there is no certainty in this life and to make the most of what I have, while I have it.

I didn’t expect that receiving confirmation would actually make me quite as emotional as it has, seeing it on my shirts is probably going to make me cry.

Of course, there are added bonuses to the number that make me love it more:

Refs struggle to call numbers that begin and end with the same digits – meaning less penalties (hopefully! Must stop back blocking)

And the symmetry to it. I love the symmetry.

And one of my fave people in our league has the number 42 – so I feel super cool by 42 association.

So yes, happy days!


I’ve had things to say, but I’ve left them unsaid.

I’ve had things to do, too, but I’ve left them undone.

Still mucking through the waters, still pursuing the crazy. Still being me.

{I’m listening to the boy laugh as he reads to himself. Beautiful sounds}

I meandered out to visit my beloved at our Alma Mater last week – I needed to use the library. I am still enamoured with the smell of that place – coffee, pheromones and a sweet smell that I can’t place.

And then I sat down to lunch. On my carpet of yellow (in my yellow dress). Looking (admiring) at the purple jacarandas that are in stunning bloom.

And then I took the long way home, on my path strewn with purple. I don’t know where my path will take me, but I’m sure enjoying the journey.