Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts

22 July 2009

Sunshine



Many years ago, my Mum did astrology charts for my husband Georgie and me, and she said that he will be the one who keeps the romance alive in our relationship. I remember thinking ‘What about me? I’m romantic!’

But you know what? She was right. He keeps life fun when I’m under the pump or strung out about something or racing the clock to be somewhere on time. And he can read me like a book which shits me sometimes because he knows everything… even when he knows nothing.

And when I’m venting, he gets in my face and smirks and says ‘Don’t you smile, Boopie!’

And then I smile.

My world wouldn’t be a patch on what it is without him. I love him so much and words don’t really cut it.

There’s a song by Sinead O’Connor called ‘Dancing Shoes’ (Google it. It’s beautiful) and each time I’m writing a card for Georgie I feel compelled to finish it by quoting a line from that song. I resist because I worry he’ll think I haven’t put thought into what I want to say, that I’ve just dragged out an old standard. Silly, eh?

So while I’m feeling brazen (and not just a little bit lovey) I’m going to drag out that ‘old standard’ and finish with this:

Darren Scarce, you take my rainy days and make them go away. I love you.

25 April 2009

For you and my dad... and everything after

It's been such an interesting start to 2009 and while I began with the best intentions of making The Daily Boop a 'daily' thing, I think you and I both know by now that that just ain't gonna happen.

So I thought I'd post a little catch-up on the year so far, as seen from the desk at The Daily Boop's head office (read: my lounge room).

It began in Tasmania with a long-planned holiday to catch up with my sister Sasha and my best friend Mrs Bearly. We took at least one photo for every kilometre travelled and had quite a good trip. Then we spent a few days hanging out at home before heading back to the nine-to-five and I'm ever so glad we did: this global economic crisis thing had everyone on their toes with last-minute plans to shore up the business and the businesses of those who depend on us. Being the girl with the words meant the following months became one very long and hastily-written sentence.

In between times, my father-in-law (Gra-Gra) gave us all the fright of our lives when he was diagnosed with the big C. For a while, he was the thing behind every thought we had; and while I'm not one for prayers, I think ours were answered as he seems to be making a full recovery. My Mum and I also reestablished contact and with everything going on with Gra-Gra, I was reminded again of how life is just too bloody short.

Coming up to Easter, the George and I were stuffed. Writing anything felt like giving birth to a block of flats and I was finding myself getting really cross with everything which is most unlike me. So we took the week after Easter off just to hang out. He spent most of it in his studio and I spent it cross stitching. We went to the gorgeous Blue Mountain to see the autumn leaves before they dropped and took some beautiful photos (I'll post some shortly). That was the day we actually started to wind down, and when I landed back at the nine to five this week I found the words were flowing freely once again.

So now back to The Daily Boop. I love his little blog of mine... it's never become the thing I planned it to be and that's the way most things go with me: I start with an idea and as life is breathed into it, it kind of takes over and leads me where it wants to go.

Tomorrow is the seventh anniversary of my dad's passing. A year or two before he died he rang me at work (which he rarely ever did) to tell me that he'd just seen an old friend of mine from school and he had told her about my plans to write a book. He finished off by saying, "I really hope you do, kiddo".

Well Dad, just so you know, the book still bubbles away in the back of my mind and when it's ready to be written, I promise you I'll write it.



In loving memory of my Dad, Ian Linnell. 27 June 1950 - 26 April 2002

19 March 2009

For you and your genius

I've been saving up posts for about two months now, not having had the chance to finesse things the way I like to before I hit the scary orange 'publish post' button. But right now I'm going to do something I've never done: publish a post without reading, re-reading and editing the edits 37 times.

But you have to trust me.

This is a talk (a TED Talk to be exact) given by an author I don't know (Elizabeth Gilbert), who wrote a book I've never heard of (Eat, Pray Love). It takes 19 minutes but it'll be 19 minutes well spent. I promise.