I would particularly have liked the day in question to be a good hair day because it was the day of my last lecture for a good long while, something I’ll blog about later when I’ve come to terms with it a bit better. But for now, suffice it to say, on that day of all days it would have been nice to have either all straight hair or all frizzy hair and even (if I’m being really picky) perhaps only one parting. Nonetheless, while studiously avoiding my reflection all day, I cheered myself up with the promise of a mailbox full of good things when I got home.

Sure enough, there was a very decent looking stack waiting for me. One was a box of pure magic that had travelled all the way over from the USA, the pin cushion from the swap I blogged about just recently. When I opened it and pulled out the tissue paper, a little cloud of glitter puffed out from the edging of a tiny card from Peggy at We Bloom Here. What an exquisite creation I have received.

The little peg doll embedded in her flower bed pops up and out of the ground like a real flower…

How utterly beautiful.

Deeper in my stack of mail was a tube of gorgeous posters for the new Violet book, Violet Mackerel’s Natural Habitat, along with a much smaller package, also bearing the Walker Books Australia logo, which never fails to make my heart glad. And inside…

Violet Mackerel bookmarks!

I think hair that bad is definitely worth mail that good. And even if there’s no real connection, its a superstition that really cheers me up some mornings.

So. The natural habitat of the mackerel seems to depend a bit on the species but, based on the few minutes I have just spent googling, they are generally found in tropical or otherwise warmish waters of around 75-85 degrees. Although most live away from the shore in the ocean, they like shallow reeds and grass beds and any areas rich with their preferred diet of small fish and squid. Mackerel tend to be in constant motion so it is difficult to establish a stable habitat for them, but they can often be found along current lines where warm and cool waters meet.

Depending on why you’re interested, you may want to check out a website written by a marine biologist or a fishing expert rather than a children’s author. But obviously it’s your call.

In unrelated news, here is an interview with yours truly, here is a nice review of Neville No-Phone and here is a lovely post by Shannon about a swap I blogged about a few days ago.

In even less related news, here are some ants I recently saw having a drink.

I especially love the way their bodies form a flower around the drip at the side.

…and trimmed the faces with rainbow felt…

Then I embroidered actual rainbows on their tummies (that was quite fun actually)…

…and added rainbow felt moons and stuffing.

I don’t know. They look sort of astronautical (is that even a word?) to me.

Hmmm…

This week I wish to express my gratitude for a very pleasant stay of exactly thirty-six years on earth.

A number of features of my stay so far are worthy of specific acknowledgement. I have found your friends-and-family-system, for the provision of mutual love and support, to be excellent. I am also a huge fan of the cyclical nature of the proceedings here. The whole effect of living on a rotating planet that travels around the sun makes for a pleasant sense of rhythm and order that suits me very well. The food, swimming, dreams, flora, fauna, books and music are also frankly superb.

I would like to express particular appreciation for a number of recent special touches that have well exceeded my expectations for my stay. Most notable among these has been the publication of my stories, which is a joy that I have the pleasure of rediscovering most mornings. I wake with just a vague sense that something very nice has happened but for a few seconds feel unsure of what it is. Then the happy recollection washes over me once again. Many thanks for your careful consideration of my most deeply held wishes and daydreams.

All in all I have found this planet to be very much to my liking and would be glad to remain here for as long as is convenient for the management.

Yours with thanks,

Anna x

He reminded me of the old man in my favourite of my aunt’s picture books, Birdo. The old man doesn’t have a hat but still, the spirit is just right, don’t you think?

The thing is, my gnome has arrived right on the tail end of winter. Here in Melbourne the mornings are still cold enough for a slight frost and the evenings are still pretty chilly. But in my garden, spring is just about here.

Jasmine is my favourite springtime garden smell…

Mint is my second favourite…

And my grape hyacinths don’t smell of anything, but they are so pretty.

While all of this is going on in the garden, my winter gnome sits beside Birdo and will stay at least until the very last of the frosts have gone. This is how he looks up at me as I’m packing away the last of my wintery things.

Could you pack him away?

So I’m looking for warmth and brightness in other places. Where do you find yours?

I found some all the way over in France where a very clever girl called Aïsha has made a doll with one of my tutorials. I think her work is just beautiful and I especially love the embroidered embellishments and the stitching on the scarf. I feel very honoured.

[Image courtesy of Catherine et les fées]

I also found some winter brightness in a nice review of Neville No-Phone on the NSW Association for Gifted and Talented Children website.

And finally, the doll I put on ebay to raise some money for SMAAA did heartwarmingly well. Many, many thanks to the lovely people who supported the auction, especially Natalie and Glenn who are superstars. I will try another soon and if anyone else is doing anything similar for SMA awareness month, let me know and I’ll be delighted to give you a shout-out.

In the meantime, if you’re in a sunny place, send some of it our way please. And if you’re in the midst of a greyish winter, tell me, where do you look for brightness and warmth?

SMA (Spinal Muscular Atrophy) is a relatively rare genetic disease that recently took the life of the beautiful baby daughter of a friend of mine. I confess I had never heard of the condition prior to this happening, but I’ve learned that here in Australia there is an organisation devoted both to promoting and funding research into SMA (for which there is currently no cure) and to providing badly needed support for sufferers and their families.

SMAAA (the Spinal Muscular Atrophy Association of Australia) been a huge help to my friend, who is in turn amazing and inspiring everyone around her by devoting herself to raising awareness and funds. You can read more about her if you would like to be amazed and inspired by her courage and love too.

Anyway, this is my little offering which, if you like, you could bid on here. The auction ends tomorrow.

I will post the parcel free anywhere in the world and any funds raised will be transferred to SMAAA, with a receipt number provided to the winning bidder.

4.00 am – Sit bolt upright in bed, filled with sudden dread that have not amassed enough paperwork to satisfy BIISP, with whom have appointment to get special form stamped in exactly five hours. Tell self that (previously judged adequate) paperwork is unlikely to have spontaneously combusted overnight. Further reason that if it has spontaneously combusted, little can be done about it at 4.00 am.

4.02 am – Get up and revise paperwork.

-986,423 points of ID (check)
-photocopies of all the above (check)
-letters from JP, GP, pope etc (check)
-form X09-058blehblehbleh (check)

4.30 am – Go back to bed. Reflect on threats relating to perjury on form X09-058blehblehbleh. Wonder what exactly perjury is. Fail to recall committing crime of any nature while filling out form and resolve to assume own innocence, sleep and check definition of perjury upon waking.

4.32 am – “Perjury: the willful act of swearing a false oath or affirmation to tell the truth, whether spoken or in writing, concerning matters material to a judicial proceeding.”

Further revise paperwork, checking all oaths and affirmations thoroughly.

5.00 am – Go back to bed. Dream briefly about getting done for perjury.

6.30 am – Get up and study haggard face in mirror. Shower, clothes, cup of tea etc.

7.00 am – Watch footage of London riots on news. Panickedly check statuses of London friends on facebook. All okay.

7.15 am – Miss train while checking for more updated statuses. Call taxi. Congratulate self on having priorities in order (friends above BIISP). Berate self for breaking primary resolution relating to personal economy (public transport above taxis).

7.30 am – Sit almost completely immobile in traffic jam listening to endless horrible audio footage of London riots on radio. Intermittently check paperwork for spontaneous combustion/perjury.

8.59 am – Arrive at BIISP with one minute to spare. Feel suddenly calm and non-perjurous. Building is in nice area which have never been to before. Cafe at ground level looks okay. Promise self nice cup of tea and croissant after appointment. Walk between two large queues of thoroughly fed up looking people and cheerily say to woman at reception, ‘Hallo. My name is Anna. I have an appointment at 9.00.”

W: So do they. Queue on the right.
A: That queue?
W: Yes.
A: The one with the sign that says “Absolutely do NOT queue here if you have a form X09-058blehblehbleh”?
W: Yes.
A: But I have a form X09-058blehblehbleh.
W: Queue on the right.
A: But it says…
W: NEXT.

9.00 am – Queue on the right. Watch scrolling sign on wall informing me over and over again that under no circumstances should I be standing in this queue. Wonder if standing in wrong queue could constitute perjury.

9.30 am – Herded into another room. Enter details into computer and get special ticket.

9.35 am – Give special ticket to man. Put belongings in little trays and get scanned with wand thing. Get in trouble for sewing scissors in bag. Explain to sceptical officials what needle felting is. Grudgingly released with all possessions confiscated except paperwork. Given sticker to wear, indicating seemingly newfound harmlessness.

9.45 am – Taken in group along corridor, up several floors in lift, through curtain and into another room. Am here to get my form X09-058blehblehbleh stamped, not withdraw gold from Gringott’s. Wish there was someone to say this witty thing to, but all are worriedly checking paperwork for perjury. Do same.

10.00 am – Called to see man behind desk who asks name, then begins typing speedily and intently.

10.15 am – He is still typing.

10.20 am – Reflect that there are only twelve letters in name and wonder what man is typing. Cheer self with thought that perhaps he googled name, found blog and is leaving comments.

10.25 am – Man stops typing, gets up and suddenly points something at my chest. Assume am being shot for perjury and nearly faint. Recover and am offered glass of water. Have harmlessness sticker scanned with gun-like scanner and am herded into large waiting room full of tired, unhappy looking people.

10.30 am – Gratitude at non-execution gives way surprisingly quickly to resentment re confiscated needlefelting project. Endeavour to muster up interest in May 1984 issue of Woman’s Day. Fail. Feel fed up and still faintish.

10.45 am – Imagine trying to navigate this kind of thing in a foreign language when actual safety of self and family rests on success, unlike own comparatively frivolous mission. Bowled over with guilt re petty nature of own concerns. Feel considerably worse.

10.50 am – Resolve to research ways to support asylum seekers immediately upon return but until then, go back to far more manageable load of self-pity.

11.00 am – Read May 1984 issue of Woman’s Day.

11.30 am – Called into cubicle. Woman flicks through paperwork in manner of child with one of those little cartoon books where the drawings change just slightly with each page.

11.30 am and 2 seconds – Woman goes BANG BANG with special BIISP stamp on my X09-058blehblehbleh and tells me to collect my belongings and exit on the left.

5.00 pm – After tea drinking, croissant eating and therapeutic purchasing of wool and nice new needle case thing, go home, check on London friends (all still fine) and donate to the Refugee Council of Australia.

Some kinds of wisdom seem to be inherently uplifting. Within this category, I especially like the idea of positive paranoia. Lots of us can be very creative and focused when it comes to maintaining awful, scary kinds of paranoia, so we obviously have an aptitude for imagining ourselves at the absolute centre of the universe’s interests and plans. How nice, then, to think that the same capacity could function differently, as a belief that the world around us is constantly plotting and conspiring to make us content, successful and surrounded by beauty. I have a friend who keeps a journal of ‘evidence’ that this is true for her, recording instances of good luck, random acts of kindness, moments of contentment and joy. It’s a practise that could change the entire flavour of a day and even a lifetime, I imagine.

Other kinds of wisdom seem to be inherently gloomy and grim. Nietzsche is supposed to have said (and who knows if he really did) ‘Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs. He alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.’ What a misery guts. And yet myth, fine art, literature and philosophy are full of this kind of pathos and  personally, I don’t mind it. There is deep suffering, even in the nicest and most blessed of lives. It is quite real. And though it might not be wise to dwell on it (it’s said not to have done Nietzsche much good) I think it’s okay to acknowledge that we spend many of our days and nights with a gnawing sensation in our hearts. This very acknowledgement emerges right throughout the history of the arts in the West and on dark nights, there is companionship and even a kind of comradeship to be found among thinkers like Nietzsche.

And that leaves a third type. I think this form of wisdom is about trying to see ourselves and our lives and the world around us as it all actually is, as clearly and as sanely as we can. No cheerful slant to prop us up. No gloomy companions to help us feel understood. Just reality, which is a few, finite years in a fleshy, bony, breathing body, on a green, blue, watery planet surrounded by sun and moon and stars suspended in nothingness, with days and nights and warmth and coldness, flavours and colours and music, connections and love and hate, joy and bliss, grief and loss. I don’t think we can hope to force all of that astonishing truth into any neat, meaningful narrative. Pema Chodron says, ‘We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart.’ For me, for now, that is about as wise as words get.

It was a pretty long list but the main points on it were: get a PhD, publish an academic paper, get a job that uses my degree, write a children’s book, go to Lourdes, figure out a cohesive working position on faith/religion, and sell things I have made at an artisan market. Check, check, check, check, check, check and check. Unbelievable…

So now I need a new list and it is in progress. I’m thinking it will include something about figuring out how to illustrate a book, something about having a much more productive (and much less weedy) garden and something about visiting Vancouver and San Francisco. And Sweden. And possibly getting a caravan to write in like this…

(Image courtesy of Camping Tourist)

Do you have a bucket list? Or any thoughts on what you’d put on one?