Hunting High and Low - another journal entry from my last.fm profile

We are by nature hunters.... we seek things we need, then try to catch hold of them and hold on to them, perhaps kill them or collect them for display.
We are seekers, searchers.
There is no end to the lengths we will go to get what it is that we think we need.
But sometimes it is better, fitter, more sane to let go and leave.
Knowing this can make things easier or drive us insane with suffering because of the fact that our "dreams are depending" on something we know will never be.

Sometimes it is so hard knowing that the one you love will never know what it means to love them, and there is no way, no matter how high or low I hunt for me to show or catch something to use to explain it.

I'll keep "tearing myself to pieces" like hunters crawling through thorn bush to get closer to their prey.

But I can't hunt for a kill or a trophy because what I hunt for cannot be owned or killed or displayed as a trophy. I hunt without weapons; the closest I can get to capture the object of my quest is a picture. Like the wildlife photographers who capture their prey in images of beauty and wildness. Beauty can be fierce and blinding, cold and unforgiving. But it can never be owned.

I hunt for myself now.

"For you I'll be hunting high and low"
"There's no end to the lengths I'll go to"

I have gone to great lengths before for love, or what I thought was "love".
Now I know that Love is not something I can do anything for.... it just is. I can go to lengths if I want, but they'll be lengths i go to for myself, as nothing I can do could influence Love's path or pure purpose.... it isn't something I could ever catch, hold, or control.

The greatest length I'm working towards going to now is learning to let go.

(2 December 2006, Hunting High and Low)

Badge Song

Your honour is a badge you wear
pushed into your skin
bleeding

Don't pin this one on me.
I don't want it.
I haven't the space on my chest for more scars.
I have holes in my heart where I have plucked out stars
to symbolise your eyes
howls have hurt my hearing
hums remain day
in
day out
always

I tear myself up like pages between pressed closed covers
or blankets
strewn onto dusty floors
dusty from the dirt of a thousand boots
and skin and hair shed
to keep me from you

Tear yourself apart and bleed
I'll catch the drops,
collect the beads
of blood- tears
and sweat from your face,
off your hair
pooling in the small of your back as you kneel and reel
and drive your hard round wheels over me.

I know my feelings
won't change your mind
about what you believe

So I'll crawl under covers and ground I once tread
Hide for centuaries
catch motes
dig moats
and leave, my love 

unsaid.

And with time the badge you pinned to yourself
might grow over
You might find the way.
You might find me
and wake me.

(11 Dec 2006 Originally posted on my last.fm journal  http://www.last.fm/user/EveMoody/journal/2006/12/11/5aqs_badge_song:_poetry_inspired_by_bel_canto )

More than just lullabies

I am the type of person who finds meaning in so many things. One of my greatest joys in life is song lyrics. I truely believe that while a tune may be very beautiful, the real essence of a song is the lyrics. "It's all about the lyrics" is the name of a facebook group I belong to, and its name pretty much sums up how I feel about this issue.
To that end I struggle with music where I can not hear the lyrics. Most of my favourite vocal music is by artists who enunciate well when they sing.
I have a few really favourite songs and they too are really all about the lyrics.
I am sharing them with my baby girl because they are fun to sing, seem to calm or entertain her, and most of all have a good message in the song.
Of the three I sing to her most at the monent, my favourite is "Smile" The lyrics written after Charlie Chaplin wrote the tune and capturing the essence of the sort of feeling of his "little Tramp" character.

Here are the lyrics:

Smile though your heart is aching,
Smile even though it's breaking,
When there are clouds in the sky
You'll get by,

If you smile
through your fear and sorrow,
Smile and maybe tomorrow,
You'll see the sun come shin-ing through for you

Light up your face with gladness,
Hide ev-'ry trace of sadness,
Al-though a tear may be ever so near,

That's the time,
You must keep on trying.
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worth-while,

If you just smile...

Words to live by in my opinion.
I sing it to Evangeline whenever she gets in a state and needs to be calmed down. I sing it for myself as much as for her as at times I find this motherhood thing inordinately difficult and draining and I need to remember that I need to smile a little more.
I remember once hearing that song at the end of a movie about the life of Charlie Chaplin and crying for hours. I was probably only 16 or 17 at the time but it really touched me deeply.

Other songs I share with Evangeline regularly are "Swinging on a Star" and "Sing, Sing a Song".
Both are great for getting her in a good mood or distracting her when she needs to sit sill while I do something like put her boots on or brush her hair. Both have fantastic lyrics with good messages which I hope will sink in to her and help her on her journey through life.

A sad day

Once a week Henrik takes Evangeline to visit her granny and bestefa for the day so that I can have some me time.
Luckily I didn't have Evangeline with me today as I ended up having to take our two rats to the vets to be euthenased. Heather has been getting weaker and weaker for some time now and was losing a lot of weight. We have been very worried about her and keeping a close eye on her. Two nights ago I noticed that Hope had grown a huge tumour on her front leg virtually overnight.
Today Heather fell off the table their cage is on twice and came over to me at the desk to put her back up. I think she might have been trying to say goodbye. She didn't even make it to the vet. She was already dead when we got there.
On investigation by the vet it was noted that Hope actually had two huge tumours and they seemed to be growing very fast. That, and the fact that rats are very social creatures, made me decide that Hope did not need to suffer the double blow of a slow possibley drawn out sickness all alone without the comfort of her sister. I held her after the vet gave her the injection to make her fall asleep and whispered to her until she fell asleep then kept holding her until her little heart stopped beating.
Bradley kindly offered to bury the two bodies for me and I took him up on the offer as I did not feel up to the task.
We will miss having our rats but have decided not to get any more for a while until Evangeline is older and can have a part in choosing the little ones and helping to care for them.
I feel very lost, its funny how such little creatures can leave such a big hole in your life when they go.
I am glad though that they were together in the end and that their suffering was short.

Voter Registration Weekend

This weekend is voter registration weekend. The weekend set aside to give everybody a chance to either check their details on the voters role or register to vote in the ward they reside in next year in the General Elections.
I have recently moved from one area back to a ward I lived in many years ago so I needed to go and register to vote. Luckily I had some sort of idea (having lived here before) where I needed to go. I say luckily because if I hadn't then I would have been up the proverbial creek without a paddle.
I decided to check online where I should go to register, so I google where to check and get sent to the IEC website.
This is what it looked like when I got there.
Imagine, the whole country is being mobilised to register to vote and the IEC can't even get their act together enough to have their website running properly in time for the registration weekend.
Then the next little bit of irritation. I keep getting text messages on my mobile phone from one Helen Zille (?!?) reminding me to register to vote to "help stop the ANC from getting a 2 thirds majority" Each time I am advised to reply "STOP" to stop recieving the messages and each time I send the required "STOP".... But they keep coming.
All that this nincompoop has managed to do is give me a good reason to vote for the ANC.
I almost have a good mind to send them a message saying so.
I know which party this woman is from and I would never have given them my number so I guess they have bought it from someone who collects numbers to give to viscious spammers to annoy the living daylights out of people.... Grrrr!

My name is Eve and I am addicted to bottle brushes!

I think I have a problem and I'm determined that the first step to getting better is admitting it.
I am addicted to bottle brushes.
It started innocently enough. I got some brushes with some bottles at my baby shower. They were nice enough in that they did the job. But they were rather simple and plain and uncomplicated.
I think things might have stayed alright except for some stressful times when I was visiting my newborn daughter in the NICU.
I blame the expressing paraphernalia.
After trying to express breast milk for my little girl I had to clean the breast pump funnel thingymajob.
They had a whole sink for this purpose with pump dispenser disinfectant soap and bottle brushes lined up along the edge of the sink. They came in all sorts of colours and each had their own little suction cup to stand up on.
When I had to admit defeat on the breastfeeding front I jumped at the opportunity to really embrace the bottle feeding subculture.
There are so many cool things for bottle feeding, I dabbled in the mysteries of different bottles, tried the Dr Browns with their funny bits and bobs.
After standing in the kitchen at 3 in the morning a few times trying to figure out the bits and their corresponding bobs and then finding the bottle leaking milk into the jug of hot water I had stood it in to warm it I gave up on Dr Brown. I did however keep the groovy little bottle brush thingy for cleaning the bits and bobs.
Then I really jumped into the Nuk experience. I was sucked further into the seedy world of bottle addiction when I discovered that the Nuk teats fitted the cheaper generic bottles I got at my baby shower (the ones I got the brushes with) and then that Snookums bottles also fit those teats, infact most of the cheaper bottles fit the Nuk teat. You see (she says sounding like a Nuk saleswoman as only a true addict can) the beauty of the Nuk sustem is that the air flow works with just the teat and not (as with Dr Brown, Born Free, Avent and others) with the bottle, so one is not stuck with the more expenssive bottles but can just buy the teats and use them on almost any bottle.
Then the trouble began as I started buying more and more bottles.... all of which lead ultimately to the bottle brush trouble.
I felt quite pleased with myself that I had caught my bottle addiction before it bankrupted me and turned my fridge into a bottle warehouse with not room for food. I'd nipped it in the bud, or so I thought.... but now I realise I just went the way of many other addicts... with one addiction leading to the next.
I first bought a red brush with a sponge tip and a teat brush in the handle.... I thought I had hit the jackpot. Then I saw the purple brush with the teat brush in the handle and ths suction cup (like the ones at the NICU) I had to have it, much to my sister's disgust - she had been with me when I bought the red one. Imagine her face if she had seen me today buying the blue brush I just had to have.
Today I bought my fourth bottle brush.... and yes, it is one with a suction cap on the bottom, sponges on the tip and a teat brush in the handle. I especially love the fact that it is a baby Eeyore one and so goes with the baby Eeyore dummy chain I bought two weeks ago, the baby Eeyore bottle and dummy I got at my baby shower and baby Eeyore formula container I bought today and the baby Eeyore rattle I will probably buy next time I am in the store.
The problem is right now my baby has only five feeds a day and uses only five bottles a day so that means I almost have a brush for every bottle. I guess this is a little too much.
My biggest problem is deciding which one to use at any given bottle washing session.
But perhaps I have an even bigger problem looming on the horizon.
Does anyone know where I can find a Baby Eeyore-a-holics Anonymous meeting?

Family Photo Shoot

It was a bittersweet day today as the Yons and the Olds came round so that we could have a family photo shoot. It brought home that the Olds will be leaving soon and Vera and I are really going to miss them so much.
Mum brought cake for us to enjoy with our coffee, lovely, but it left me with a bit of a headache - but that might just as easily have come from the anxiety and angst of knowing these times of togetherness as a family are fast coming to an end.
Henrik kept everyone smiling and worked his magic with the camera and I now have the task ahead of me of doing all the post processing. There are lots of photos to work through. I am hoping to get most of the work done in the next day or two.
It is going to be a busy week.