I follow a lady I’ve never met on Twitter, and yet I count her as a friend. I read her blog, eagerly awaiting updates on her craft projects, the work she and her husband do around their house, the reports on the dog walks and marvel at how she fits everything into her life as she also teaches; so has to plan, execute and evaluate every lesson, every student. While on holiday in Queensland we went into a wood turners, I saw some lace bobbins; one set made from Australian native wood and another set with a beautiful purple sheen. I couldn’t put them down, as soon as I saw them, I knew I had to send them to her.
We met through Project 333, which I’m still working on now, even out-to-here pregnant as I’ve not remotely got 33 items I can actually fit into! After Peanut arrives, I’m looking forward to augmenting the clothes that are hanging in the spare room wardrobe to end up with a capsule wardrobe that reflects me, and my life. I don’t know her, but I’ve brought two of her handbags as she also augments her perfect capsule wardrobe. Both bags are so perfectly ‘me’ it’s a worry they’ve travelled from Connecticut to Australia and been welcomed with open arms.
Last week, this lovely lady suggested a theme Sentimental Saturday, where we talk about something that is important to us. I’ve been in a reflective mood, and those two words resonated deep within me. While I had every intention of writing this on Saturday, the day slipped past me. Yesterday, Sunday, my sister-in-law and niece spent the afternoon with me, bringing with them a hamper full of goodies for the baby. When I saw what was in it, I was so glad I’d not written this, even though my subject had already been chosen. You’ll see why.
This rather raggedy looking elephant is Dumbo. He was waiting for me when I got home from hospital after I was born and while there are nights if I’ve had a nightmare, I will still reach for him as a comfort, (Hubs gets too hot), he mostly lives in my walk-through wardrobe, on a table, with other sentimental items (which will be covered through the coming weeks). He was carried on the plane with me in my hand luggage when I emigrated, as I couldn’t bear the thought of packing him into the hold.
I am 36 years old.
He’s mopped up many tears; he’s been subjected to hair cuts; I trialled out a Christmas present of home-made soap on him, which turned him blue; I came home from school and shrieked because Mum had washed him and hung him up by his ears on the line; I can remember coming downstairs as a teenager in tears because he’d burst a stitch on his belly; his neck remains ever floppy where I used to carry him around under one arm.
I don’t know if I love elephants because of him, or whether I would have loved them any way. I do know, Dumbo is a part of me, of my childhood, and I am proud he’s lasted this long.
Since moving to Australia, Hubs and I have lived in our own little capsuled world, primarily meeting up with a small, but growing, circle of friends, and his family. However, one other family that welcomed us both with open arms to their extended family, are our sister-in-law’s parents, Kim & Rod (unusually, I am naming them on here). We spent our first two Christmases out here with them, this past one, we were trying to hide the early stages of our pregnancy so apologised and said ‘No thank you’ to the invitation.
Kimmy has recently been diagnosed with brain cancer. This has shocked all of us to the core, it came out of the blue and also because it is aggressive and quickly robbing this vibrant matriarch of sight, speech and her general bubbly outlook on life. In the basket of goodies that arrived from their home to help welcome Peanut into the world was this: