Ballet Concert

Today is Sabina's ballet concert.  We arrive with anticipation, and our family takes up half the front row.  Of course, Sabina's participation in the ballet is our only drawcard.  That is, until we see the seniors perform.  Wow!

All in all, the performance is a fantastic mix of young kids just having a go, to intermediates who start understanding what it's all about, right through to seniors who are very close to professional.

We had a wonderful time!  Some say that the Cancan stole the show.  For others it was the belly dance.  For me, it was the Wicked Witch of the East!

Hair one day, gone the next

Yep, I've done it. Shaved all my hair off. Or rather my husband carefully shaved it off.

The truth is this - it was an absolute nuisance. Not only was it falling out everywhere, but it also hurt. All the hair follicles became really tender, and just wanted to grow their own way. Those that did get their way were fine. But those that didn't hurt ... a lot! Constantly. All the time. And the worst was putting your head on a pillow.

Now that the hair is gone, it feels fantastic. I still have to be a little bit careful when putting my head on a pillow. But other than that, the pain is gone. And the convenience! No brushing, no styling, no products. Washing takes a few seconds. Drying takes a few seconds. I absolutely love it.

But the best part is feeling the air. Every time there is a breeze, or I move my head a little bit faster I can feel the air rushing past my scalp. It has this freshness about it - like riding a bike without a helmet.

More about hair

On Monday I finally went off and got a hair cut. It took about 7 calls to different hairdressers, before I found one that could do it that afternoon. I walked into the salon, told her what was going on, and added that a "number 6" (shave) would be just fine. She glanced at me, and responded "do you mind if I give you a style cut?" So here I am, with my pretty short, style cut.  (Apologies for poor photo quality - taken by five year old, with phone camera.)

Since then, the "one by one hair fallout" has changed to a "mass exodus". Hair is everywhere, albeit short. Mainly it sits on my shoulders, tickles my neck, and makes me feel like I've never really left the hairdresser. Gets all over the computer keyboard too. Arghhh! And screen!!! I'm over it. A number 1 (shave) is starting to look really really attractive.

I would just like to add that we are a "no hair" family. That doesn't mean that we don't have any hair. On the contrary, plenty of that around, even if not on the head. What I do mean, is that when you see a hair, you pick it up and put it in the bin, so there is "no hair". So now you can better understand why the "mass exodus" on my head is driving me bananas!

The Hair

My hair has started to fall out. Not in clumps, or batches. More like one by one.

One on my left sleeve, one on my right sleeve, one on my shoulder, one on my pocket, one on the bottom of my jacket. I think you get the picture.

I must say - textbook timing.

It's not sad, it's not distressing, it's just plain old annoying!

Since I have been threatening to shave my hair off for years, the concept of having to now cut it really short doesn't phase me at all. In fact, I am looking forward to it. Anything to make the "one by one" exodus less annoying.

Costume Trials

Sabina goes to ballet, and currently they are preparing for a concert. They have extra practices.

One of the practices is simply a costume trial session and photo shoot.

Sabina tries on a costume, and the photographer takes her photo. He then asks what her name is. Sabina gazes blankly at the photographer, and quickly runs over to Miss Lynette (ballet teacher).

"Miss Lynette, what's my name?", she asks.

"Why, your name is Sabina", Miss Lynette gazes at her kindly.

"Oh! I was so excited about trying on the costumes, that I forgot."

No more fog

Over the last few days my brain has felt quite foggy. Like, I could hold my own thought, if just that fog in my brain would go away.

This morning, I said to myself "no more fog". I devoured my breakfast, and held to that thought like to a life raft. And, to my amazement, it worked!

Of course, as a by-product I became very determined, bossy, short and sharp. I must have stayed within reason though, because the family survived the day in grand style.

Out of the fuzz

This morning I managed to walk Sabina to school, and then still walk Pete to the train station. Then I walked home. (A round trip of about 1.5km.) Oh the freshness of the air! How wonderful! Sitting at home can get so stuffy, it starts to suffocate you. Force yourself to go outside, and you immediately feel better. Fresh air is the best medicine.

As I was walking back by myself, I was actually toying with the idea of going for a short bike ride. I mean ... if a walk feels this good, how good would a bike ride feel? The wind in your face, the gentle flexing of muscles, blood pumping.

On another note - my skin has turned to alabaster. All the blackheads and pimples and impurities on my face have literally been jumping out of my skin for the last two days. Now they are all gone, and my face feels smoother than silk. I am really quite surprised that the "beauty industry" hasn't cottoned onto this yet. You know, "mini-chemo" could be right up there with botox, peels and the like.

Chemo 1 - Day 3

Well everything is going according to plan - today I am knackered.

There is this training ride we do on our bikes. From Mt Waverley we ride up to Kangaroo Ground, then St Andrews then almost into King Lake. We cut through to Yarra Glen, and then back home. It's a touch over 100km, and it's very hilly. It's supposed to give you a real kick up the backside, and get you fit for riding longer rides.

Today, I feel like I had done that ride. All my muscles are throbbing. And I am eating and sleeping to match.

Chemo 1 - The day after

Well I am up and about today, and feeling much better.  The morning was rather slow and cautious, but largely, the nausea is gone.  Mind you, they gave me 3 different tablets and an injection to prevent nausea.  That's on top of the anti-nausea tablets I am allowed to take any time.

Chemo 1

One chemotherapy session done, five more to go.

So, what was it like? How do I feel? And what have I done with my hair?

Well ... it was like this. I was busy all weekend with bullants, dogs and what not, and ran out of time to shave my head. So I turned up to chemo this morning with my full mane, tucked neatly into a pony tail, only to be advised that hair might not fall out after first chemo session - and even if it does it will start doing so in about two weeks. It's like getting an extension on your assignment. Yay.

The day oncology ward has a bunch of recliners in it. They look very similar to business class seats on an aeroplane. They even go up and down. But I don't think they can simulate turbulence. And there is heaps more floor space around you.

You get all the top class nurses that treat you like absolute royalty. There are all sorts of assistants running around serving tea, coffee and biscuits. My treatment arm was covered with a warm blanket, and I was covered with a blanket on top of that. First I was given a capsule (anti-nausea) - then we had to wait an hour to start treatment. For most of that hour my nurse talked to me like she was my favourite grandmother.

Once the needle for my drip was in, the rest of the treatment was painless. One of the drugs I am getting is red - so they have a little discreet pouch covering the bag. Very cute.

All in all the treatment took around 3 hours, and I felt great afterwards. My mother-in-law drove me home, I felt fit as a fiddle, and had some lunch. Then I started writing this blog. And then it hit me. First a bit of nausea - so I went to bed. Then more nausea. I took the anti-nausea tablets they gave me, and they worked ... a little bit. Basically, I was bed ridden for the rest of the day. It was a real effort to eat and drink anything, and the household went into shock that all of a sudden they had to do all my tasks, as well as their own.

In the end though, the household at least seemed to accept the situation and peace was achieved. The nausea continued - now I see why they treat you like royalty - you suffer enough for it later on!

Dogs

Hunters frequent the state forest next to our farm. They've been out there for days. They have a machine that makes different animal sounds. Even I can tell the difference between a real animal, and the hunters' machine sounds. And the horses usually pick up the hunters from 2km away. Mainly, they hunt deer with dogs and guns.

Well they are out there today, making their fake bird sounds. I wish they would just get over it, as I saddle up Bess and Tornado. Crownie is a bit stiff through the back, and Sabina is really keen for me to ride Bess.

We ride out. It's a gorgous day and just lovely to be out there. Somewhere in the distance the motorbikes are out, and I stay vigilant. Bess lacks forward. I put it down to her character, and the motorbike noises.

We stop for a break on the side of the road. Sabina enjoys sitting in the shade and eating her snack, while I hold the horse and pony. Tornado seems happy enough, but Bess is disturbed. She keeps gazing in the direction of home and feeling anxious. I find this rather odd, as she is such a placid easy going horse. Either she is really hanging out to go home, or I have an electric seat.

As we mount up, Bess spins around so fast that I almost fall off. Oddly enough, she spins around and wants to run away from home. Strange.

We head towards home. Sabina keeps hanging back and chatting - sometimes to me, sometimes to herself, sometimes to Tornado. Bess remains on edge. Then I see them, two grey shadows ambling hesitantly down the road. Hunting dogs? Strays? They look like two huge greyhounds - each standing taller than Tornado. Their coat looks unkept, and it gives them a wild, somewhat savage look. The one closer to us has his tail tucked under his legs.

When they see us, they hesitate. We are half their prey, and half their masters. They look confused. Sabina is torn out of her childlish fantasy pony ride. "Mama!" I take a more solid grip on my whip. Thank God I brought one, and thank God I brought the one that does damage. I move Bess to shield Sabina. "Go home!", I call out sternly. I wave the whip at them. "Go on! Go home!".

They turn around, take another look at us, then slowly walk back up the track. Sabina's got the hang of it now, and she's fully roaring at them like a ferocious tiger. Thanks to her endless tiger games she's actually got a roar worth reckoning. The dogs, break into a trot.
 
We follow the dogs. I keep a very watchful eye on them. Sabina goes back to ambling 20 metres behind me, but she keeps roaring. From the farm, Pete watches the strange procession. He can't see the dogs - just me, and a screaming Sabina behind me. He thinks that Sabina is just having a bad time, and waves to us with jolity.

Finally, when we're at the state forest gate, and I see the grey shapes slinking along at the bottom of the valley, I breathe a real sigh of relief. We start laughing at our adventure. Deep down I marvel at Bess' trust in me, and Tornado's calmness. What awesome horses we are so lucky to borrow and own. (Thanks Lisa!)

Bullant

I am busy making dinner when the sliding door opens.

"Mama!!!" cries out Sabina, full of tears.

I drop everything, race to the door, my mind conjuring up all the worst case scenarios, my heart reaching out in sympathy. I come to a sliding stop on my knees right in front of my little girl. She looks upset, for sure, her pants seem to be a bit dirty (but that's normal at the farm), but I can't really see what else is wrong.

"Mama!!!", she screams sobbing. "Get it off me! Get it off me!".

The fading light makes it hard to see, but I suddenly work out that the pants are not dirty - that's bullants crawling over my little girl - about four of them. Instantly, I brush them off with a couple of agressive strokes. Then I pick her up, sit her on a chair and rip the pants off in a single motion. It appears the bullant problem is solved.

"Ouaaa", sobs Sabina, pointing to a red spot on her leg. "That naugtie bullant! Mama, that was a naughtie bullant. I hate that bullant. It's a naughtie bullant. Why did the naughtie bullant bite me mama?"

(Yes, it's not a "naughty" bullant. It's a "naughtie" bullant. So cute!)

Sowing the seeds

So, we've put the path around the house. Now we've had some soil delivered, and Pete spreads it around the outside of the path to provide a nice sloping gradient. Then it's time to sow the grass seeds. Pete figures that the manly task is done, so he goes off to do other manly tasks - such as go for a bike ride; while Sabina and I are left to do the sowing.

We put the seeds in a bucket, and sow them one handful at a time, singing the song "Sowing the seeds of love" as we do so. Well, we don't actually know the entire song, so we just sing the two lines that we know. At one point I stop singing, and just listen to Sabina.

Her little voice is so sweet that if I was a seed of grass, I would definitely start growing!

Grand Final

It's AFL Grand Final day today. "Hmmm, how shall I celebrate?" I look around for a minute, then grab the tractor.

Half an hour later we have our very own, freshly mown, oval. Of course, it's much more the size of an equestrian arena. Mere details.

When the neighbours pop around to say hello, I suggest a game. It all ends in laughs.

The Soup

Inspired by the leek in my veggie delivery, I gaze into the cookbook. There it is - leek and potato soup. I am secretly hoping that this is something my family won't like, and I will have oodles of helpings all to myself.

I carefully cook up my inspiration, and call up the troops for lunch. I smile. "Who would like some leek and potato soup?" All hands go up. Hmmm, this wasn't part of the plan.

The soup is devoured, and I ask (foolishly) if anyone is up for seconds. All hands go up again. This is out of control! My husband hates soups, and my daughter dislikes potatoes. What's going on?

By the end of lunch a mere cupful or two of the soup remain. The troops are licking their lips and patting their tummies with satisfaction.

The Tooth Fairy

(This episode actually happened a while ago, like about a year ago, but I kept forgetting to write about it. So, here goes.)

Sabina's first tooth is moving. Oh my goodness. Already? When the tooth started moving a lot, we started discussing the tooth fairy.

"When the tooth falls out", says Sabina, "you leave it on a plate. Then, in the night", she starts whispering in a mysterious voice, "the tooth fairy comes and takes the tooth and the child with her."

The smiles immediately vanish from our parental faces, and we both exclaim a huge "What?!".

"Yes", Sabina continues, totally unphased by our huge surprise. "The fairy takes the child up into the sky. And the child puts the tooth in a special spot in the sky. Then the child comes back down."

"Phew! Thank goodness the child comes back", we both sigh with relief.

"And then", Sabina continues with mysterious voice, "the tooth becomes a star."

We gaze at each other with pride and disbelief. We both love this story, but where in the world did our daughter come up with it?

"All your baby teeth", continues Sabina, "are up there, shining down on you every night, and taking care of you."

Ok, now she's starting to become so gorgous we just want to hug her. But, wait, she's not finished yet.

"And then", she goes on, "when you die, all your stars drop out of the sky, and onto you."

And that's how you combine fantasy and imagination with science and logic. She's got it all in one - she's prevented overcrowding of stars in the sky, and she's taken care of shooting stars as well. That's our girl!

Only in Australia

Maintenance work is currently being carried out on the train line between Pakenham and Warragul, and so the train service has been replaced by buses.

Football (AFL) finals are here, and public transport is expecting a lot of traffic. Especially the Gippsland line. So they have suspended the train line work and the buses, and resumed the train service just for the footy traffic.

We saw the passenger train heading out to Warragul tonight ourselves.

God's Gift

Ever since the incident with Princess, I have been a true believer that somewhere out there, someone is trying to guide us to make the right choices. I have also believed that the someone or something, has great power to invtervene - or rather try and guide us if we are totally off our path in life. I have also believed, that the someone has a mind beyond our mind, and that we are often not meant to understand how and why things in our life unfold the way they do.

So ever since that incident, I have asked that someone for lots of things - to lose weight, to become a better horse trainer, to get clarity about where I should steer my career, to become a more involved mother, to have some time off. Oh, the list just goes on.

So I guess the burning question is ... did I get everything I asked for? Yes. You bet. Cancer gave me absolutely everything I asked for, and more.

At no point did I ever ask that someone for perfect health, vitality, positive energy and happiness.

Luckily for me, one of the things I asked for, was to further my spiritual training. This led me to realise the importance of blessing food. So now, every time we sit down to a meal together, we bless our food, and ask for health and happiness.

A sign from God

A couple of years ago I was leaning on the gate to the amphitheatre paddock and looking at the horses. Back then we still had Tosca and Princess as well as Crownie. I thought to myself "I know that I need to sell at least one of the horses, but I don't know which one". I sighed. "God, can you please give me a sign which horse to sell. But God, don't make it some subtle sign please, because I don't notice those. Can you please make it a really obvious, smack in your face kind of sign. Pretty please."

Then I turned away and went into the big shed. In the meantime, the horses ventured down the hill. Later on I came out of the big shed, with buckets of horse feed. I called the horses, and the herd came galloping up. All except for Princess. Princess was lagging behind, trotting, while a fountain of white liquid was pouring out of her nose. I stared at the horse, stupified. There was my most obvious sign from God. That's the horse I need to sell.

Fathers' Day, take two

It appears the drought is over. It's raining, raining, raining. The rivers are swelling, and paddlers of all ages and dimensions are dusting off their paddles, checking that they still fit their decks, and almost causing a network crash with their emails, messages and phone calls. Which river? What day? How many runs?

Pete has decided to do the King with his friends. A wonderful river, that at the promised level is well worth the drive. The aim was to do it today. On Fathers' Day. So of course we shifted Fathers' day and celebrated it yesterday. He got the works - lovely breakfast, present, cards, lunch at the cafe, great dinner, and of course his little girl showering him with love all day long. (Ok, maybe that wore thin eventually.)

Then, yesterday evening, he got a phone call. Trip is rained out. What do you mean rained out? Kayaking trips don't get rained out. The more water the better. Nah ... rained out. Can't get there - all the access roads to all the rivers are flooded! I have never ever heard of a paddling trip getting rained out. I mean, that's the whole idea. When the rest of your life gets rained out, that's when you go paddling. Up till now.

So this morning, Pete got up and we celebrated the whole Fathers' day all over again. Was he just lucky, or clever?

Eating and drinking

I have become an eating and drinking machine. And I am not talking about chocolates with port. I am talking veggies - especially the broccolis, caulieflowers and brussel sprouts - and meat. Some brown rice, and a bit of jelly for dessert. My drink of choice is water, water, water.

My surgery (to remove the breast cancer) was three weeks ago. It went really well. Even the surgeons (two of them) personally congratulated me on a very quick recovery. Admittedly, the four week recovery rule still applies. That is, I have another week before I can do, well, pretty much anything. Drive a car, ride a horse, do sit ups, yoga, running. My surgeon-in-charge said that I can hop on my bike today, if I am really desperate to do something. But the problem is, the only thing I am really desperate to do is eat, drink and rest. Like I said, I've become an eating machine.

I get up in the morning, I prepare my food and eat. Then I do my stretching exercises, and then before I know it's time to prepare lunch. I eat lunch. Then I need a rest. By the time I get up it's pretty much time to prepare dinner. After dinner ... more rest.

It's kind of blissful recovery time. The only problem is that I am really hanging out for a coffee. (Can't have one at the moment - doctor's orders).