Posts

Showing posts from July, 2010

Time time time, look what’s become of me ...

The kids were back to school this week, and it is a fairly well established fact the first week of term is designed to make teachers forget that they had a holiday at all. Last week was no exception – work was busy with the usual things, there were music and sport events for the prince and poet, social interactions to attend, study to complete and the weekly round of shopping, cleaning and cooking. Nothing out of the ordinary for a middle class family. Why then, are we always so tired? For most people I know, the working week goes by in a flurry, leaving Friday night and weekends for a round of vapid social events, home maintenance and some time with the kids. Which leaves only Sunday to prepare for the next draining five days. Is this any way to live a life? What ever happened to Music, Dance or Art? Restaurants are busier than ever but they push patrons through with a startling rapidity leaving no time to enjoy a lingering meal over a decent conversation (and it goes without sayi

Why cooking is the new Rock n Roll.

Maybe Jamie, Nigella or George and Gary can save our lives I was lucky to grow up in a family in which food was something to be cherished and valued. I remember being vaguely pleased, if a little surprised, at been given a pig’s ear by a friendly butcher at the Vic Markets as a little boy, when we went for weekly supplies.  Food was part of the fabric of our lives and the meals ranged from hot curries to stir fries to roasts with all the trimmings, not to mention the traditional Friday night fish and chips from the jovial Greek fishmonger up the road. Flashback, Australia in the 1970’s. Most of my friends were been served a steady diet of meat and three vege for dinner and polony sauce sandwiches for lunch. Wine was for the Europeans, beer for Aussies and the only time you saw Roast Chicken was in a greasy KFC wrapper or on the dining table at Christmas.  But changes were soon to come. My own food journey began when I first moved out of home. I cooked the dishes I grew up

Long time gone – or why being a forty something matters

The aim of this page is to write about 500 words a week about something which matters to me, and maybe you too . . . I turned 41 a week ago – but save your celebration or tears and call me a therapist.   Last year I celebrated the beginning of my midlife with friends and wine and music at a friendly inner city café. It was a great night and some time later I thought “40’s don’t seem so bad, let the adventure begin!”  I was in good health, I had plans, I was more financially secure than ever, I was loved, I was happy. 2011 finds me with all of that still holding true, Global Financial Crisis notwithstanding. Despite all these positives, I can’t seem to shake a nagging sense of worry about myself, and about the future. The experts have been telling us for years (and please don’t expect me to quote them directly) that the world is changing at an ever-increasing rate, and that we’d all better get used to it. I can almost feel it in my bones. What worry’s me is not change, I’m a ge

Changes well afoot.

Dear Friends,  In a desperate attempt to try and remain hip and relevant, I am giving a spring clean to some elements of this page so that it reflects my current interests, passions and misdirected beliefs. I am always open to your recommendations however. Stay tuned. Chris 

41.

well well here we again time is slipping n here is the future quick recount 41 years wife prince n poet music coffee great coffee actually food wine friends loving god work study home not a bad collection really but like a shadow only   in the brightest of lights out of the corner of my eye skulking in a a corner change is beckoning . . . . socrates question continues with a deeper significance as the years become decades “how shall I live” ponder: what does that mean live: this question reality: am I happy? What have a missed? are my ethics ok ? do I know why I do the things I do? how are my relationships? what about the mystic transcendent life? how do I spend my cash? have I taught the prince and poet how to live deeply and freely? regrets . . . I’ve had a few but this treadmill life makes me weary I get my energy in the cold In the rain n sleet I need to time to rest n study n cook but life demands work work work who decided this was ok ? who decided that to have time to b