What better way to celebrate all the new things to come than with a gorgeous blog re-vamp.
So my friends, are you ready to come on this journey with me?
Thursday, April 28, 2011
A new start to come
It seems like ages ago, but in the summer of 2009 my husband and I decided that it was time to move back to Australia, we wanted to surround our children with a family much larger than what they have here. 2 years later after many ups and downs, here we are with a sold sticker on our For Sale sign. We are getting ready to pack our bags and head to the other side of the world. Emotions are high, the past few weeks have thrown us a few curve balls but I am feeling so hopeful. I have a renewed sense of life, the chance to start over, a chance that not many of us get. I am happy with all the wonderful blessings in my life, but I am going to start fresh. I am going to take better care of myself, be smarter with my finances, get more exercise, get out with the kids, make time for my husband, travel, explore, sing, row, swim, create, laugh and love.
What better way to celebrate all the new things to come than with a gorgeous blog re-vamp.
So my friends, are you ready to come on this journey with me?
What better way to celebrate all the new things to come than with a gorgeous blog re-vamp.
So my friends, are you ready to come on this journey with me?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
A life story, a story of love.
I have a story to share, about the man who was my father. On the 2nd anniversary of his passing he is still in my thoughts every day, he is every where I go, I see him in shadows in the night, I hear his voice, a whisper saying hello, I see his reflection through the window, just a glimpse but he is there, and I am glad.
Born in 1946, in the town of Subotica, in the former Yugoslavia. He was born to parents he never knew, adopted by Maria and Marco, Hungarians living in Subotica. He was joined 7 years later by his brother Joso.
His days were spent playing barefoot in the streets, kicking soccer balls and running with the Gypsy's. His nights were spent in a one room apartment, for they had very little money. He was happy, so very happy with nothing, he didn't even know the things he didn't have. For he had love, and that is all that mattered.
He was clever and mischievous, he was bored in school and was much happier attending the school of life, on the streets, stowing away on the trains and riding until he was in a foreign land. He's be gone for days but his parents always knew he'd be back, charming his way into homes for food, and hitching a ride back to them.
Then one day he spotted my mother leaning against a railing in the city center market, she was young and naive, and had never had a boyfriend. He charmed her, wooed her, promised to marry her and then left for his military duty. She was smitten, and of course she would wait for him.
2 years he spent in the Army, traveling, learning new languages, meeting new people but waiting until the day he could get back to the woman he promised to marry. Marry they did, running away from her strict parents, hoping on a train to Germany and eloping with their best friends. They had their whole lives ahead of them, the world was their oyster, they wanted great things for themselves.
They chose to start their new life in Canada.
They landed with $50 to their name, and only speaking a few phrases of English, but they were happy, for they had love, and love would see them succeed.
He worked hard, he wanted to provide for his family and his 2 little girls that quickly became the love of his life. He took long job postings as an electrician in the mines of Baffin Island, leaving my Mom to raise 2 girls on her own for extended periods of time. We'd all wait, anxiously for Daddy to get home. He'd tell us about fighting polar bears and sharing whale meat with Eskimos, he'd bring us beautiful sparkling rocks, telling us they were full of diamonds. He'd tickle us until we almost peed, and stroke our foreheads at night to lull us to sleep.
He'd read books on Aristotle and Chomsky, he'd smoke cigarettes and drink vodka, he was mysterious and would divulge strange ideas to us when he'd had too much to drink. He'd recount his theory's on aliens and UFO's, government conspiracy and the afterlife.
He'd teach us Latin and German, and scold us for watching soap operas and reading Archie comics. He described all corners of the world with his stories and took us to some of his favourite parts of the world in real life. In France we spent days seeing every historical monument there was, in Hungary we spent Christmas day in a Hari Krishna temple. In Yugoslavia we went to the mountains and the sea and saw everything in between.
He taught us to be ourselves, and told us to be open with him, we talked about sex and drugs, and could always count on him to be fair and honest.
He made us laugh, he had a dry sense of humour that terrified our boyfriends but made us giggle all day, he was quick and witty and was king of the pull my finger joke.
He struggled with insecurity, and was disappointed easily by unkind people. He was a recluse, liking time on his own to think, for he was a great thinker. He taught us how to be good thinkers, to see the logic in things and to open our minds to more than what is just there in front of us.
His ultimate goal in life was for us to be happy, if we were happy, he was happy, all our accomplishments big and small made him proud, little did he know that he made us proud too.
He did all the things a great dad should do, he taught us to be kind, thoughtful, forgiving, appreciative and to Love, for Love above all was his specialty.
Here is a poem that i wrote for my Dad when I was 20, one I didn't share with him until after I found out he was sick.
I’ll Fly Away
The sound of silence, unnoticed by my ears.
Yet I unsuccessfully block out the whispers.
“Spread your wings” they call, “don’t hold back, just fly away.”
My first reaction is to obey,
to follow the whispers to a sea of independence.
Yet instead, I grasp on to what is more definite,
something stronger and wiser, than I’ll ever be.
Someone who’s arms can forever wrap around me
and protect me from a world so seemingly large and scary.
He who stands so tall is my father.
A bright moon and I his star, glowing brightly under his rays.
I’d like to fly away and soar in the sky,
but only dear father if I know you’ll be there to catch me when I fall.
Tina
May 1992
Born in 1946, in the town of Subotica, in the former Yugoslavia. He was born to parents he never knew, adopted by Maria and Marco, Hungarians living in Subotica. He was joined 7 years later by his brother Joso.
His days were spent playing barefoot in the streets, kicking soccer balls and running with the Gypsy's. His nights were spent in a one room apartment, for they had very little money. He was happy, so very happy with nothing, he didn't even know the things he didn't have. For he had love, and that is all that mattered.
He was clever and mischievous, he was bored in school and was much happier attending the school of life, on the streets, stowing away on the trains and riding until he was in a foreign land. He's be gone for days but his parents always knew he'd be back, charming his way into homes for food, and hitching a ride back to them.
Then one day he spotted my mother leaning against a railing in the city center market, she was young and naive, and had never had a boyfriend. He charmed her, wooed her, promised to marry her and then left for his military duty. She was smitten, and of course she would wait for him.
2 years he spent in the Army, traveling, learning new languages, meeting new people but waiting until the day he could get back to the woman he promised to marry. Marry they did, running away from her strict parents, hoping on a train to Germany and eloping with their best friends. They had their whole lives ahead of them, the world was their oyster, they wanted great things for themselves.
They chose to start their new life in Canada.
They landed with $50 to their name, and only speaking a few phrases of English, but they were happy, for they had love, and love would see them succeed.
He worked hard, he wanted to provide for his family and his 2 little girls that quickly became the love of his life. He took long job postings as an electrician in the mines of Baffin Island, leaving my Mom to raise 2 girls on her own for extended periods of time. We'd all wait, anxiously for Daddy to get home. He'd tell us about fighting polar bears and sharing whale meat with Eskimos, he'd bring us beautiful sparkling rocks, telling us they were full of diamonds. He'd tickle us until we almost peed, and stroke our foreheads at night to lull us to sleep.
He'd read books on Aristotle and Chomsky, he'd smoke cigarettes and drink vodka, he was mysterious and would divulge strange ideas to us when he'd had too much to drink. He'd recount his theory's on aliens and UFO's, government conspiracy and the afterlife.
He'd teach us Latin and German, and scold us for watching soap operas and reading Archie comics. He described all corners of the world with his stories and took us to some of his favourite parts of the world in real life. In France we spent days seeing every historical monument there was, in Hungary we spent Christmas day in a Hari Krishna temple. In Yugoslavia we went to the mountains and the sea and saw everything in between.
He taught us to be ourselves, and told us to be open with him, we talked about sex and drugs, and could always count on him to be fair and honest.
He made us laugh, he had a dry sense of humour that terrified our boyfriends but made us giggle all day, he was quick and witty and was king of the pull my finger joke.
He struggled with insecurity, and was disappointed easily by unkind people. He was a recluse, liking time on his own to think, for he was a great thinker. He taught us how to be good thinkers, to see the logic in things and to open our minds to more than what is just there in front of us.
His ultimate goal in life was for us to be happy, if we were happy, he was happy, all our accomplishments big and small made him proud, little did he know that he made us proud too.
He did all the things a great dad should do, he taught us to be kind, thoughtful, forgiving, appreciative and to Love, for Love above all was his specialty.
Here is a poem that i wrote for my Dad when I was 20, one I didn't share with him until after I found out he was sick.
I’ll Fly Away
The sound of silence, unnoticed by my ears.
Yet I unsuccessfully block out the whispers.
“Spread your wings” they call, “don’t hold back, just fly away.”
My first reaction is to obey,
to follow the whispers to a sea of independence.
Yet instead, I grasp on to what is more definite,
something stronger and wiser, than I’ll ever be.
Someone who’s arms can forever wrap around me
and protect me from a world so seemingly large and scary.
He who stands so tall is my father.
A bright moon and I his star, glowing brightly under his rays.
I’d like to fly away and soar in the sky,
but only dear father if I know you’ll be there to catch me when I fall.
Tina
May 1992
Monday, April 4, 2011
Relocation Tinkertines Down Under
I was very happy to receive this link from my Twitter friend @jackiembooth in the UK. With all the doubt I've been feeling over our move to Australia, this is just what I needed: A reminder that the city of Canberra, where we plan to make a new life for our family, is a great one. Jobs are plentiful, the balance between nature and metropolis is a perfect one for us and just seeing the sunshine and hearing the birds chirping in the background was enough to make me pull out my suitcases. The video is a bit long and the properties showcased are not exactly our taste, we would definitely be in the market for something less "outdated", but the excitement of moving to Canberra is creeping its way back in. I'm looking forward to taking advantage of the miles and miles of bike paths. My dream home will hopefully have views of the Brindabella Mountains (and a swimming pool). I have a long "to do" list for my new life, and taking up rowing is one of them. I can't wait to get out on the lake in the early mornings and glide through the water.
The proximity to the coast and the mountains is invaluable, I could surf the beaches of Sydney in the morning (if I surfed) and by the afternoon be on the snow hills skiing (if I skied), both on my "to do" list as well. There was even a little part of me that envisioned my boys racing along the motorcross track that was featured (what, am I crazy)?
If you've got the time, have a look, you might even decide that Canberra, Australia is the place for you.
The proximity to the coast and the mountains is invaluable, I could surf the beaches of Sydney in the morning (if I surfed) and by the afternoon be on the snow hills skiing (if I skied), both on my "to do" list as well. There was even a little part of me that envisioned my boys racing along the motorcross track that was featured (what, am I crazy)?
If you've got the time, have a look, you might even decide that Canberra, Australia is the place for you.
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