My Flashback Friday offering. Yes, I know it's Saturday already but I'm behind in everything. My bloglines is exploding, my sewing remains in pieces, I have homework from the CAE camera class I'm taking, the garden is sprouting weeds and I really need to plan out the week after next which is a holiday from work. I keep saying, yes, we'll do that on my week off. That week is starting to feel a bit like the tardis (bigger on the inside than the outside, a comment we often make about the shed). Unfortunately, I am not a timelord. Although tonight, I did get to watch Dr Who on the couch with a glass or two of lambrusco. While G made homemade pizza for dinner. Ah, small patches of blob out bliss. Could do it all night, but I also need that feeling of download that blogging gives me. Meant to do it last night but I was tired and got caught up in the online realestate scene, while compiling my weekly list of houses to visit. More about househunting tommorrow because there are thoughts stewing around my head in that direction too.
Anyway, this is not the best of my blonde photos, there's one I remember as being really fantastic but I think I stole it from mum and then lost it. The one above was taken at christmas lunch at my parents house in 1988. The one below would have been taken at Christmas dinner at my auntie Pauline's old house. It's after I finshed uni but before my parents separated as my mum is in the photo. She's the only non-blonde. I would have been going through my wannabe yuppie phase. I'm wearing my favourite lime green silk shirt, the one I bought from the upmarket re-cycle shop in Bourke street. I remember it was an expensive men's designer shirt, with the most gorgous pearl buttons. I had a lot of affection for that shop too, and was sad to notice it empty with "for lease" sign in the window on my last trip to town. I've had really short hair several times in my life but only went blonde once and I remember it being much more painful than other colours. And that it needed several top ups of magic silver white.
Standing next to me is my sister Betty, then called Liz. On the other side is my mum, my auntie Pauline, my cousin Susie, my auntie Sandra and my cousin Samantha. I'm the oldest cousin and Suzie the youngest. So much has happened since this was taken. Obviously. As there are seven women in the picture. There's been separation and divorce, death (of one of my uncles in a speedboat accident), all sorts of other loss, mental illness and many other assorted struggles. There's also been university degrees completed, houses built, bought, rented and sold, marriages, re-marriages or de-factos made, careers and business endeavours cast off and started. And all the other trivia in between. Like all families. All of the cousins in the picture now have babies or young children. And all the mothers are now grandmothers.
Betty and I went to visit Susie and her baby daughter yesterday. We haven't been in contact much over the years but she and her partner have moved to a nearby suburb. Now she's a mother too. It was an amazing visit and Grace has been talking about going to Susie's and there being ham and cake and two bubbies!!! two bubbies!!! Bubbylee and Jessica (which she can't say yet). And I've been thinking alot about our shared childhood history. And about how cool it is to hold a baby on my lap and say to Grace, this is Jessica, she's my second cousin. You and her are third cousins, and Ruby-Lee is your cousin.
You know, I could write a novel from this photo. I'm not going to for obvious reasons, but I could.