tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10369793178772407612024-03-14T04:26:12.042+11:00Wonky Daddy Day Care DiaryKilliby Communication offers corporate writing and editing services. Cleve Killiby occasionally blogs about life's adventures and misadventures.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-41580078975800090462017-06-29T16:05:00.002+10:002022-03-14T09:26:22.916+11:00Hard to resist Tina Charles and River<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Fd2VANQhzUw" width="320" youtube-src-id="Fd2VANQhzUw"></iframe></div><br />
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Tina Charles belting out her 1970s disco hit “I Love to Love”
while a big old Mercedes saloon drives through the dark streets of
London during the opening credits of <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06jkk8f" target="_blank"><i>River</i></a> – 90 seconds is all it takes to
fall this terrific show.</div>
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If there’s a better, more unexpectedly warm and engaging
opening scene to any TV series in recent memory, I’d love to see that too.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stellan Skarsgard stars as the aloof, enigmatic and haunted Detective
Inspector John River – who plays perfectly against the more outgoing but
equally enigmatic and haunted Nicole Walker who co-stars as DS Jackie ‘Stevie’
Stevenson.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Both River and Stevie may be haunted by the past, but when
they are together there is a light in their eyes that is enchanting. When they're apart, River’s
demons feel startlingly original in a TV detective context.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In fact, all of the relationships feel genuine, with a supporting
cast of fully fleshed out characters, not just cardboard cut outs.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I won’t say much more for fear of spoilers – but this is a
most original, emotionally engaging, sometimes unsettling but altogether
rewarding TV experience. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<i>River</i> is a couple of years old but screened only recently
on <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/tv/programs/river/" target="_blank">ABC TV</a> and is still available on Netflix. <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/tvandradioblog/2015/dec/08/best-tv-of-2015-no-10-river" target="_blank">The Guardian’s review</a> does it
justice (and I agree - 6 episodes feels far too short!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Many of the best crime shows seem to run sweet but short
series – think Idris Elba in <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00vk2lp" target="_blank"><i>Luther</i></a>, and Benedict Cumberbatch in <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b018ttws" target="_blank"><i>Sherlock</i></a>.
Together with River, all 3 are as much about the lead characters and their relationships
as they are about crime solving.</div>
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<br /></div>
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For me the ultimate short-but-sweet series was <a href="http://www.hbo.com/deadwood" target="_blank"><i>Deadwood</i></a>, cruelly
cancelled in its prime. But that’s a story for another time. Right now, thanks
to my new love affair with Spotify, I can sing along with <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/tvandradioblog/2015/dec/08/best-tv-of-2015-no-10-river" target="_blank">Tina Charles </a>whenever
I want!</div>
Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-7291673231864175822017-06-08T10:33:00.000+10:002017-06-08T10:33:12.282+10:00King Arthur with Jax Teller and geezers - love it!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Jax Teller as
King Arthur – what perfect casting. Knights with geezer accents – what great
fun. A new take on the legend of King Arthur – why the heck not! So what’s not
to love about Guy Ritchie’s<i> King Arthur:
Legend of the Sword</i>?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Answer:
Nothing! Well, some of the special effects go on a bit long, but if you’re a fan
of <a href="http://www.cinelinx.com/movie-stuff/item/8147-directors-trademarks-guy-ritchie.html" target="_blank">Guy Ritchie</a>, you’ll love his take on King Arthur.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Great action
sequences, entertaining dialogue where mates take the piss out of each other, a
medieval sword with Jedi Knight lightsaber properties, and did I mention there
is Charlie Hunnam reprising his <a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2014/12/sons-of-anarchy-series-finale-jax-dies" target="_blank">Jesus-like</a> role from Sons of Anarchy as the anointed
King Arthur?</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/UKXFJIB3YQM/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UKXFJIB3YQM?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">(Don’t get
me started on the doomed but strangely lovable characters that inhabit the
sinister bikie world in the FX TV series <a href="http://www.fxtv.com.au/sons-of-anarchy" target="_blank"><i>Sonsof Anarchy</i></a>, particularly its doomed flawed antihero</span> <span style="line-height: 115%;">Jackson Nathaniel ‘Jax’ Teller…. but please
do read this article on <a href="https://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2014/10/the-sons-of-anarchy-dilemma-is-it-time-to-kick-jax.html" target="_blank">antiheroes</a>.) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">If you’re a King
Arthur tragic like me, you just have to see Guy Ritchie’s<i> King Arthur: Legend of the Sword</i>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">To qualify
for my King Arthur Tragic Club, you’ll need to have fallen in love with the
Lerner and Loewe musical at a formative age, and to have made a pilgrimage to
<a href="http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/tintagel-castle/" target="_blank">Tintagel Castle</a> in Cornwall to confirm that the legend is real.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I was about
10 years old when I first saw the 1967 film version of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0061439/" target="_blank">Camelot</a> starring Richard Harris (watch this charming <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SchoNB1RjkA" target="_blank">interview with Parky</a>) as King Arthur, Vanessa Redgrave as Guenevere and Franco Nero as
Lancelot.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">It was the
songs that got me…. riding my bike to school singing ‘If Ever I Would Leave You’,
in the flush of young love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">And I still
sometimes sing there theme song about a land where “winter is forbidden until
December, and exits March the 2nd on the dot!” (I fell in love with the Richard
Harris version, but take a look at Richard Burton – wow!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">At 25, my
first overseas trip included a visit to Tintagel Castle. I don’t remember much
about it now, but I do remember eating genuine Cornish pasties and Cornish clotted
cream (separately). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Even if you’re
not a card-carrying member of my King Arthur Tragic Club, you should see<i> King Arthur: Legend of the Sword. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Download
it, stream it, borrow it, buy it, but see it -</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><i> </i>it's terrific, rollicking British fun. </span></span>Then <a href="https://www.visitcornwall.com/" target="_blank">Visit Cornwall</a>!</span></span></div>
Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-10662132506519921402015-09-26T11:46:00.000+10:002015-09-26T11:46:37.757+10:007 reasons to go on a campervan holiday with kids<span style="color: blue;"><b>1. Pop-up café</b></span><br />Having your own mobile kitchen addresses one of the drawbacks of family holidays – the cost and inconvenience of eating out three times a day. A simple breakfast of toast and tea is a relief for the stomach and the wallet. No need to make a reservation at your own mobile pop-up café.<br />
<br /><span style="color: blue;"><b>2. Mobile table and chairs</b></span><br />The kids need a break from driving so you pull up at a park where you feel like a cup of tea but there’s no café nearby. What do you do? No problem – turn on the gas and boil the kettle. Too hot or cold to sit outside and watch the kids play? There’s a warm table inside. Can’t find a park bench to eat your takeaway fish and chips? There’s always an inside seat at your own mobile pop-up café.<br /><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>3. Mobile shower</b></span><br />If you’ve ever showered in a caravan park toilet block you’ll appreciate how good it is to have your own shower. Sure it’s cramped and you need to refill the tank every day, but you can shower without thongs or fear of secondary infections.<br />
<br /><span style="color: blue;"><b>4. Mobile toilet</b></span><br />Taking a toilet with you everywhere you go is handy for kids (and older adults!). But be warned – it’s best used only for number 1s, not number 2s, unless you have no sense of smell.<br /><br />
<span style="background-color: blue;"></span><span style="color: blue;"><b>5. Bunk above the cabin</b></span><br />
Climbing up the ladder and hanging out in the bunk above the cabin was a kid favourite. But it’s hot and stuffy up there, so get a van with windows above the cab. Avoid renting in summer.<br /><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>6. King of the road</b></span><br />Sitting high above the traffic using a truck-like steering wheel to veer in and out of lanes makes you feel like the king of the road. Even Sydney drivers will let you merge for fear of being sideswiped.<br /><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>7. Campfires</b></span><br />Kids love toasting marshmallows over a campfire. Everyone loves sitting around a campfire. Just starting one is pretty cool. Taking your campervan off grid so you can have your own campfire is just about the best thing we did.<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-14271405914577372302015-09-26T11:35:00.002+10:002015-09-26T11:35:48.141+10:007 reasons NOT to hire a campervan with kids<span style="background-color: blue;"></span><b><span style="background-color: red;"></span><span style="color: red;">1. Electricity </span></b><br />
<b>Surprisingly there is none in the bush, and less than you imagine in a campervan.</b> Seemingly luxurious appointments such as air conditioning, microwave, toaster, kettle and powerpoints only work when a campervan is plugged into the grid at a caravan park, which kind of defeats the purpose of camping. Off grid the only electricity trickles to battery-powered lights, water pump and fridge. When stopped you need to turn on the gas bottle to run your fridge, heat water for showering, and to cook or boil the kettle on the gas stove. Implications: No toast for breakfast. No heating or cooling the van when parked. The gas kettle takes forever to boil, and I need my coffee now!<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>2. Plumbing</b></span><br />
<b>Or the lack thereof. Yes, I’m talking poo.</b> We all do them, ideally every day. Four people = 4 poos. Poo smells. Campervan windows are generally small. You work out the rest. So ideally avoid using the toilet for poo. Which means you still need to camp near a toilet, in which case you may as well be in a tent (or better still a cabin). Yes, the toilet is handy for wee. But that’s all.<br /><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>3. Water</b></span><br /><b>Water water everywhere but not enough to drink</b>. Yes, there’s a big water tank underneath for the sink and shower but you can’t drink it. So you lug around big plastic bulk containers of drinking water that quickly run out despite their back-breaking weight. You seem to spend half your time re-filling everyone’s drinking water bottle. And filling the kettle takes forever. Clean reticulated drinking water is a great civilising influence for which I thank WaterNSW and Sydney Water.<br /><br />
<b><span style="color: red;">4. Trivia</span></b><br /><b>Small daily tasks seem to take forever.</b> Like finding your toothbrush and water bottle and turning on a pump simply to brush your teeth. Or filling a water bottle from an even bigger water container only to pee it moments later into a sump toilet that you have to carry to a dump point to empty. Repeat.<br />
<br /><b><span style="color: red;">5. Tallness</span></b><br /><b>Campervans are small confined spaces ideal for kids and short adults.</b> Tall adults will spend their whole time hunched over, and inching sideways in semi-circles like a backhoe in a terrace backyard. Short people will have no sympathy for you. And don’t start me on the size of the toilet cubicle.<br /><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>6. Trees</b></span><br /><b>It’s really easy to back into them.</b> You can memorise the 3.5 metre height so you don’t drive into things but you quickly forget the vehicle is also a whopping 7.7 metres long. So it’s easier than you think to reverse into trees, fences, cars and echidnas.<br /><br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>7. Sickness</b></span><br /><b>Kids get sick on holidays. No-one likes to talk about it, but they do.</b> And sick kids are miserable in a confined space with few distractions. Intermittent access to doctors and medicine is stressful for parents. When kids cough through the night, every night, everyone is frazzled the next morning. Not the campervan’s fault, but worth bearing in mind.<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-57656661030684867492015-09-26T11:25:00.000+10:002015-09-26T11:25:58.563+10:00Packing tips for a campervan holiday<ol>
<li>Halve your clothes (and double your alcohol).</li>
<li>GPS in vehicle (so you can still navigate off grid with no mobile reception).</li>
<li>Firestarters, kindling, newspaper and long matches (for campfire. Firestarters would have reduced my performance anxiety of starting a fire).</li>
<li>Marshmallows (to toast. We also took long wooden skewers but it turns out there are plenty of sticks in the bush).</li>
<li>Picnic blanket (should you have the bizarre urge to eat outside instead of inside at your camper table).</li>
<li>Coffee plunger and ground coffee (no electricity to heat pods off grid).</li>
<li>Bulk water (to refill water bottles and kettle. Tea is an essential part of camping).</li>
<li>Bacon, eggs, sausages, bread rolls, waffles, pancakes (covers all the food groups - off grid you can use gas stove to make bacon and egg rolls for breakfast one day, heat waffles or pancakes in frypan for breakfast the next day, and cook sausages in a bun for dinner every night. I never want to see bacon or sausages again.) </li>
<li>Glen 20. Quite frankly the whole experience is highly unsanitary. Spray the van when you take delivery, and every couple of days. </li>
<li>A big plastic tub for your shoes. Then spray them all with Glen 20 every night (especially after visits to caravan park toilets and the world in general).</li>
<li>Nurofen, Panadol and asthma puffers for the kids (and mild sedatives for the adults).</li>
</ol>
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-10111517754705804412015-09-26T11:21:00.000+10:002015-09-26T11:21:23.116+10:00Tips for planning a campervan holiday<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><b>Book direct</b>. An aggregator seems easiest but the actual company who rents you the vehicle may resent such bookings and you seem to have less control over assessing the hire company’s reputation and fleet.</li>
<li><b>Eyeball the vehicle</b>. Ideally you need to inspect the actual van you are hiring as not all ‘6-berth’ vans are the same re ease of converting tables to beds or the most functional layout of shower/toilet. Don't rely on website descriptions or generic layout diagrams.</li>
<li><b>Get a demo.</b> Insist on a thorough demonstration of how every part of the campervan works, inside and out (ours was so perfunctory we never found the hidden extra board to make our very narrow bed slightly wider, and could never turn the rear bed back into a stable table).</li>
<li><b>Maximise your excess</b>. Not your excess of drugs and alcohol but your insurance excess. Take the maximum amount of insurance with the minimum excess (some companies offer nil excess. You’ll appreciate it when you inevitably back into a tree or leave the handbrake off and roll into a lake).</li>
<li><b>Go hassle-free. </b>Any extra payment to avoid re-filling gas bottles or to get extra camping equipment or GPS is worth it. In hindsight I’d even pay them to empty the toilet one last time.</li>
<li><b>Adjust your attitude. </b>You either need to be highly organised or totally carefree – nothing in between will cut it. We were highly organised and still mildly unhappy (OK, I was very unhappy and Sherrie was mildly discomforted). So really a campervan is only for the carefree (and a little unhinged). And short people.</li>
</ol>
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-24649607586671251292013-03-21T15:49:00.000+11:002013-03-21T15:49:34.968+11:00Spectacular Springsteen!Saw a concert last night. Some bloke called Bruce. Sounded like he might have a future in the music business. He had this house band with him, E Street or something. They were pretty good too. I think they should take their show on the road, see a bit of the world - who knows, they might even catch on.<br />
<br />
For all I know, maybe that's what people in bars around New Jersey were saying in 1972, shortly before the release of Bruce Springsteen's first album <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greetings_from_Asbury_Park,_N.J." target="_blank">Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.</a> What I do know for sure is that 40 years later, last night we saw one of rock's greats deliver one of the greatest rock shows of all time.<br />
<br />
Peter Knobler was there in 1972. He was editor-in-chief of the first magazine to profile Springsteen, well before he became The Boss. <a href="http://fortnightlyreview.co.uk/2013/03/bruce-springsteen/" target="_blank">Knobler warns</a> of the dangers in writing about Bruce - that because "Springsteen is an inspiring performer, writers have forever tried to capture in words the feeling of his concerts", and the result is generally florid and overwrought.<br />
<br />
So you've been warned!<br />
<br />
Last night was the <a href="http://brucetapes.com/" target="_blank">second of Springsteen's three Sydney shows</a> at <a href="http://www.allphonesarena.com.au/" target="_blank">Allphones Arena</a>. It's a terrific venue for an act like his - big enough to feel like a stadium with a sea of waving hands, small enough to see the man and his band without the aid of the big screens.<br />
<br />
I know much less about Bruce than my good mate who joined me, along with our partners. But it doesn't matter. Once you 'get' Springsteen, he hooks you deep.<br />
<br />
It's because he writes about things that matter to us. He writes simply, but his words and songwriting have real power. <br />
<br />
He talks about big things to ordinary people - things that we might not have the words to articulate ourselves, or even if we can find the right words, we lack the courage to say them. <br />
<br />
I am told there are still people who don't quite 'get' Bruce Springsteen's brilliance. To them I say.... <br />
<ul>
<li>If you've ever had a lost love, especially when you were young, listen to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_caz4qMxTH4" target="_blank">Bobby Jean</a>, and you'll change your mind about Bruce Springsteen. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Dreamed of escaping your everyday life? Listen to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMB3M43AEpc" target="_blank">Thunder Road</a>, and you'll change your mind about Bruce Springsteen.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Life hasn't turned out as you hoped? Listen to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAB4vOkL6cE" target="_blank">The River</a> - Springsteen has written your story.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Feeling blue? Springsteen has the answer to that too. Play <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiCxqhu9cio" target="_blank">Waitin' on a Sunny Day</a> or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS_QOgW1OzY" target="_blank">Mary's Place</a>, and just try to stay sad - you can't.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Hankering for high rock opera and drama? Nothing surpasses <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGU0z1DGO8E" target="_blank">Jungleland</a>. I'll never forget hearing it live last night.</li>
</ul>
Spectacular, in every sense of the word - that's how I'd describe a concert by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. It was a bucket list moment, and I'm glad I got to share it with Sherrie, Graeme and Kate.<br />
<br />
Very few rock
musicians sustain their creativity, power and passion into their 40s,
let alone their 60s. Yet at age 63, Springsteen's latest album <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2012-20121205/bruce-springsteen-wrecking-ball-19691231" target="_blank">Wrecking Ball</a> is as full of hits and heart and soul as any of his earlier work.<br />
<br />
There are those lucky few who got to see Springsteen in the 1970s when he was touted as the future of rock'n'roll.<br />
<br />
There are now many more of us who can say they've seen The Boss at his best, still surfing the crest of the wave all these years later.<br />
<br />
He was no flash in the pan. He was the
genuine article. If anything, that perhaps makes this tour even more special. Thank you
Bruce Springsteen, and thank you E Street Band.<br />
<br />
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-48387526269739735622013-02-18T11:38:00.000+11:002013-02-18T11:38:48.485+11:00Farewell, to two little boys...Singing. From their very first day, we sing to our kids. Soothing lullabies to calm a restless baby (or agitated mums and dads). As our babies grow into toddlers, soothing songs remain part of the bedtime ritual.<br />
<br />
But it's just hit home to me that the singing ends.<br />
<br />
The Complicated One no longer wants me to sing to him at night. The Big Fella still lets me occasionally, but even he's starting to move on.<br />
<br />
It seems to happen around 5 or 6 years, but at some point your kids just don't want you singing anymore. Perhaps they think it's only for babies, or it's not cool. They don't say, and I don't ask.<br />
<br />
Now that both our boys are at school, change seems to be speeding up. Maturity, exposure to a wider group of friends drawn from more diverse backgrounds, or just the acceleration of peer pressure, which will only intensify as they rocket towards and into the teen years.<br />
<br />
So before I forget, I want to write down the names of the songs we sang to our boys.<br />
<br />
Admittedly, it's a wonky collection of tunes, sung with a wonky voice, but I don't care! It's my 6-song repertoire of suitable bedtime songs where I know all the words:<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YP7GCXqdqU" target="_blank">Morningtown Ride</a> by The Seekers </li>
<li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wik2uc69WbU" target="_blank">Puff the Magic Dragon</a>, by Peter Paul and Mary </li>
<li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHTPUEE74LQ" target="_blank">Two Little Boys</a> by Rolf Harris </li>
<li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfM9gQkfwyg" target="_blank">Thankyou for the Music</a> by Abba </li>
<li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFrGuyw1V8s" target="_blank">Dancing Queen</a> by Abba</li>
<li>Looking for an Echo by Ole'55 (or better still, by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ke1dV_IpSKA" target="_blank">Kenny Vance and the Planetones</a>).</li>
</ol>
Some of them are songs my mum sang to me, like The Seekers' <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YP7GCXqdqU" target="_blank">Morningtown Ride</a>...<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Train whistle blowing, makes a sleepy noise,<br />
Underneath the blankets, go all the girls and boys..."</blockquote>
If there's a pop song in the last 40 years with better lyrics or a sleepier melody for little kids, I'd like to know.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, I hear you suggest, another folk song from the 1960s? Like Peter, Paul and Mary's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wik2uc69WbU" target="_blank">Puff the Magic Dragon</a>. It's another great bedtime song, but for years we didn't sing the next to last verse, because it's too sad...<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Dragons live forever, but not so little boys<br />
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys..."</blockquote>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHTPUEE74LQ" target="_blank">Two Little Boys</a> by Rolf Harris is another bedtime favourite with a happy/sad final verse that we edited out for years. But sometimes, they'd ask for it, for their own private reasons... <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Long years had passed, war came so fast,<br />
Bravely they marched away.<br />
Cannon roared loud, and in the mad crowd,<br />
Wounded and dying lay..." </blockquote>
Like a good showman I like to leave 'em dancing, and nothing fills me with more joy than Abba. The Complicated One always enjoyed <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfM9gQkfwyg" target="_blank">Thankyou for the Music</a>, which sounds OK even with my two-note singing. It perfectly captures the balance between light and dark in Abba's music.<br />
<br />
An alternative show-stopper is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFrGuyw1V8s" target="_blank">Dancing Queen</a>. "Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for the place to go..." is a familiar and much-loved refrain for my generation. <br />
<br />
But my sneaky favourite is Looking for an Echo, as sung by Ole'55 on Countdown in 1976, to me as an impressionable pre-teen... <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"At daydream junior high school we used to harmonise,<br />
Me and Frankie and
Jimmy and some Italian guy.<br />
We were singing oldies but they were newies
then,<br />
And today when I play my old 45s I remember when..."</blockquote>
Now that I am an old music nerd, I've tracked down the original version first performed by Kenny Vance in 1975 - and it's even better!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.planotones.com/" target="_blank">Kenny Vance</a> first knew fame in the 1960s with Jay and the Americans (their big hit, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpePWo56zm4" target="_blank">This Magic Moment</a>, featur<span style="background-color: white;"><span></span></span>es in a current TV commercial for a certain gambling company). Vance turns 70 this year, still performs regularly in New York and New Jersey, and still sings this beautifully as a finale to his shows... <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ke1dV_IpSKA" target="_blank">Looking for an Echo - Kenny Vance and the Planetones</a>.<br />
<br />Looking for an Echo best sums up the beauty and melancholy I feel as I sing to our boys. Knowing they can't stay little forever, but not wanting to let go to some of the special times that may never come again...<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: left;">
"We've sung a lot of changes since 1955</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And a lot of bad arrangements we've tried to harmonize.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Now we've turned into oldies, but we were newies then,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And today when I play my old 45's, I remember when...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We were looking for an echo, an answer to our sound.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A place to be in harmony,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A place we almost found."</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-72092352294153604042013-02-04T19:26:00.002+11:002013-02-04T19:26:25.527+11:00First day of school - what a difference a year makes!The Big Fella went to school today without a backward look. He waved happily to us, and literally skipped into the classroom.<br />
<br />
What a contrast to <a href="http://clevek.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/first-day-of-school-blues.html" target="_blank">The Complicated One's first day of school</a>, when he retired to bed in his school uniform just before we left the house, and literally had to be dragged crying into the classroom on days 1 and 2.<br />
<br />
They're different cats, that's for sure. The Big Fella is sure of himself, and goes with the flow. He'll talk to anyone, and nothing much bothers him.<br />
<br />
The Complicated One is less sure of himself, thinks of all the alternatives, worries about which is the right choice, and second guesses himself afterwards. He'll only talk to you if he likes you, and pretty much everything bothers him (I guess I'm exaggerating a bit!).<br />
<br />
The Big Fella has a good friend from his child care centre starting kindy at the same time. They're not in the same class, but having a familiar face in the playground on day 1 must make a huge difference.<br />
<br />
Plus he's been to the school every day for a year, dropping off or picking up his brother, so it's already a familiar place. Add a different personality, and you can see why The Big Fella is recipe for success.<br />
<br />
We suspect it won't all be smooth sailing. He's amongst the youngest in his class. And writing and craft type activities don't yet appear to be his forte. He's more of a running around kicking a soccer ball kinda guy.<br />
<br />
In a few weeks he may well decide school is boring, and declare he's had enough. He's done that sort of thing before.<br />
<br />
But just as likely he'll find some way to make school fun and interesting, perhaps by focussing on activities outside the classroom.<br />
<br />
Who knows what hidden talents school will reveal? It may be oral presentations (try shutting him up!). It may be acting (he's already a clown). It may even be numbers (he's certainly more interested in adding up that recognising letters).<br />
<br />
Whatever happens, The Big Fella and The Complicated One will make an interesting pair as they travel through their school years together.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I imagine it will be like the Reacher brothers from the <a href="http://leechild.com/jack-reacher/" target="_blank">Lee Child</a> novels. Jack, the novels' hero, is the younger but physically bigger and tougher brother of the more thoughtful Joe.<br />
<br />
Jack used to beat up the kids who gave Joe trouble in school. <a href="http://www.isleyunruh.com/?p=5010" target="_blank">Jack</a> says "... we had different brains. Deep down, he was a cerebral guy. Kind of pure. Naive, even. He never thought dirty. Everything was a game of chess with him.”<br />
<br />
Not that The Big Fella has ever swung a punch. He's not yet even 5 years old - and quite gentle, for a big unit. But maybe he'll be looking out for his big brother, and vice versa.<br />
<br />
Let's hope he's as cool and relaxed on the last day of school, as his first.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-54636923608752724462012-12-23T10:42:00.000+11:002012-12-23T10:42:13.128+11:00Back home from the beach ... the final verdictWe left for our beach holiday with one sick child, and five days later returned with another. While the symmetry appeals, the experience does not.<br />
<br />
On the way up the coast, The Big Fella lay slumped in his booster seat. Rarely does he succumb to something as minor as illness, but this time he went the whole nine yards - fever, sore throat, spots, warts.<br />
<br />
(He had no spots or warts, but it sounds bad, hey?)<br />
<br />
While the big unit is rarely ill, The Complicated One is rarely well. So we shouldn’t have been surprised when he started shivering and sweating on the drive home. My driving isn’t that bad (although my fellow road users on the Pacific Highway were particularly annoying).<br />
<br />
The eldest child had gone several days with no apparent symptoms transferring from the least eldest child. Foolishly, we thought we were in the clear.<br />
<br />
The Complicated One arrived home sick and grumpy, and then got worse. We sighed with relief when he finally adjourned to bed at 4pm.<br />
<br />
He slept on and off until 6.30am (with the emphasis on ‘off’ – we seemed to spend more time walking between our room and his than we did in bed).<br />
<br />
So the question ‘Was the beach holiday worth it?' is now decidedly more complicated to answer.<br />
<br />
Not only must we consider issues that arose during the holiday: sharing a bed with cockroaches, mice in the ceiling (a minor annoyance really), and sunscreen and sand that never washes off. <br />
<br />
We also need to factor in post-holiday issues such as illness (which hasn’t yet migrated to me or Sherrie), washing the car, and cleaning the grout above the stove and kitchen benches.<br />
<br />
Yes, when I return from holiday, I am frequently overcome with a need to clean. Today I cleaned the house, washed the car, and used bleach and a toothbrush to clean the kitchen tiles. They now look splendid!<br />
<br />
I guess if the house looks cleaner thanks to the after-effects of our beach holiday, then maybe that ties it up – Civilisation 3, Bush 3.<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas to you all! Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-22270709275266718452012-12-22T12:40:00.000+11:002012-12-22T12:40:01.059+11:00Random moments on a beach holiday 4 ... the last afternoonIt's the last afternoon of our beach holiday and the boys are lying prone on the lounge. They’re alternating between hyperactive and listless, grumpy and manic, mildly exhausted and exhausted.<br />
<br />
Even I see the sense of making one last trip to the beach, but the boys can’t be convinced. They’re buggered.<br />
<br />
We’ve only been here for 4 days, not 4 weeks. You’d think they’d have a bit more stamina.<br />
<br />
I’d understand their lack of energy if it was 1966 and they were sleep deprived from 4 weeks camping in a tent, their bodies wasted from a nutrient-deficient diet of baked beans and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spam" target="_blank">Spam</a>, and dehydrated from electrolyte-rich <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schweppes_Australia" target="_blank">Passiona</a>.<br />
<br />
But it’s 2012. They’re in an air conditioned cabin. They’ve eaten like kings in restaurants. They’ve imbibed plenty of water and precious little Fanta.<br />
<br />
The best we can do is convince them to make one last visit to the pool (or leisure centre, as it’s been quaintly re-named).<br />
<br />
We wrestle them into their sagging and stretched rashies one more time, lather on some more sunscreen over the stubborn residue of the last batch, and trudge once more back to the pool. Well, Sherrie and the boys do – I’m back here writing my blog in air conditioned comfort, a beer at my side and a blonde on my knee.<br />
<br />
(Actually, I'm drinking mineral water, only the ceiling fan is on - I have at least attempted to acclimatise - and the only blonde is the yeasty one I’m looking forward to with dinner at the local bowlo.)<br />
<br />
The boys return exhausted but elated from the pool. <br />
<br />
Yep - you can’t beat summer holidays by the beach!<br />
<br />
Civilisation 2, Bush 3.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-49680935861661898152012-12-21T11:55:00.000+11:002012-12-21T11:55:03.037+11:00Random moments on a beach holiday 3 ... is it easier to stay at home?Here’s a list of things we do on a beach holiday, roughly in order from most to least often:<br />
<br />
1. watch cricket on TV<br />
2. watch ABC 4 Kids on TV<br />
3. watch golf on TV<br />
4. eat in our room<br />
5. eat out at restaurants<br />
6. play putt putt golf<br />
7. play tenpin bowling<br />
8. play Scrabble<br />
9. swim in swimming pool<br />
10. collect shells at beach<br />
11. wash sandy shells at cabin<br />
12. line clean shells up on table<br />
13. swim at beach.<br />
<br />
We’re well into double figures on that list before we do anything that we couldn’t more cheaply, easily and comfortably do at home.<br />
<br />
In fact, we seem to do just about everything on our beach holiday - apart from go to the beach.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s because I’m from a non-beachgoing family.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s because the sea is fully of deadly creatures that will kill us.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s because even our cabin opposite the beach still seems so far away from the beach.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s because it takes forever to lather on sunscreen and collect all our stuff.<br />
<br />
Then there’s the weather - too hot, too cold, or too windy.<br />
<br />
Then there are the tides. Low tide is good for keeping the waves low and sharks farther out to sea.<br />
<br />
Then there are lunar phases to consider (surely there’s a preferred phase of the moon for beachgoing?)<br />
<br />
Maybe next year we’ll stay at home at do everything on that list from 1 – 9. <br />
<br />
Or maybe we’ll head back to the beach so we can enjoy all those activities with the added bonus of doing so coated in sunscreen and with sand stuck in unpleasant places while sharing our bed with cockroaches.<br />
<br />
Civilisation 2, Bush 2.<br />
<br />
(NB. I really had a much better time than I'm making out, but that's our secret.)Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-52517606033192860682012-12-20T17:52:00.000+11:002012-12-20T17:52:09.015+11:00Random moments on a beach holiday 2 ... I want the top bunk!“I want the top bunk!” yells The Complicated One.<br /><br />“No, I want the top bunk,” counters The Big Fella.<br /><br />After much tedious negotiation, everyone agrees that:<br />
<br />a) the eldest child will scale the dizzy heights of the top bunk (since he’s the best climber) and<br />
<br />b) the least eldest child will lie safely nearest the ground (since he dropped like a sack of potatoes from some monkey bars the previous weekend, landing on his backside with a shuddering thud that demanded chiropractic care). <br /><br />Fast forward six hours to bedtime .... “I feel sick and dizzy up here. I might fall.”<br />
<br />
The Complicated One has lost his nerve.<br /><br />“Would you like to come down?”<br />
<br />
Sad little nod of head in reply.<br /><br />Further negotiations are required about who should have the bottom bunk. The Complicated One reckons he should sleep on the bottom while The Big Fella moves to the less salubrious adjacent single bed. The Big Fella does not agree.<br /><br />Eventually peace is restored when the least eldest brother agrees to make way for the eldest brother in the bottom bunk.<br /><br />Five minutes later….thud.<br />
<br />
It sounds suspiciously like The Big Fella falling like a sack of wet cement out of a tree.<br />
<br />
Then screams.<br />
<br />
Which sound suspiciously like The Complicated One stubbing his toe.<br /><br />Which brother is it?<br />
<br />
Of course, the eldest brother has fallen out of the bottom bunk, and managed to badly (he claims) hurt his knee in the drop (all 45 centimetres of it).<br /><br />Lucky he wasn’t in the top bunk, or he’d be in hospital. At least his little brother only needs chiropractic care.<br /><br />Civilisation 1, Bush 2.<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-24321523806134763052012-12-19T14:38:00.000+11:002012-12-19T14:38:33.133+11:00Random moments on a beach holiday 1 ... cockroachesMy wife is from a camping family. I am not. We compromise by holidaying in cabins at caravans parks (or holiday parks, as they are quaintly known).<br /><br />She gets to maintain a family tradition of roughing it (no 5 star resorts for her). I get the creature comforts I am accustomed to (like plumbing, and a bed with a mattress, and hot water for showers and cups of tea).<br /><br />But Sherrie got her wish of roughing it these holidays. We shared our bed with at least one large brown cockroach. <br /><br />It was bad enough that on our first night in the cabin we got up to the kids three times between 11pm and 3am, but when I returned to bed for the third time, I spied a cockroach scampering gaily about in the sheets.<br /><br />I swooshed at it ineffectually several times, only succeeding in chasing it under the bed. I briefly turned on the lamp, in the vain hope I may be able to crush the life from it with my bare foot. But it was quick, and I was sleepy.<br /><br />Sherrie muttered something that sounded like “What’s happening?” <br /><br />“Nothing,” I replied, quickly turning off the lamp. The cockroach was still on the loose.<br /><br />While She Who Likes to Camp lay dreaming sweet dreams of bush latrines and camp ovens, He Who Dislikes Discomfort lay waiting for a cockroach to scamper across his face.<br /><br />The next evening, She Who Likes to Camp retired to the bathroom for a relaxing spa bath, but emerged a few short minutes later, damp and still looking tense.<br /><br />“The spa’s too noisy – I couldn’t relax.”<br /><br />Like I said, roughing it.<br /><br />Later the same evening I killed that brown cockroach as it came charging out of the bathroom. Clearly the spa bath is also too noisy for coackroaches.<br /><br />Civilisation 1, Bush 1.<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-58892616018275288252012-09-20T08:15:00.000+10:002012-09-20T08:15:36.981+10:00I cut the wrong end off the front door<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I cut the wrong end off the front door. Don’t laugh! It’s easier to do than you might think.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I was trying to stop the wooden screen door scraping on the front step.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I tried other remedies first. A couple of months ago, I took the door off its hinges and carefully planed the bottom edge. I felt like a true carpenter.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Unfortunately, I proved the truism that a carpenter is only as good as his tools.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Because my handyman outings are so rare, I refuse to buy expensive tools. The cheap plane I bought was so blunt I might as well have licked the bottom of the door for all the wood it took off.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I hung the door back up, it still scrapped on the front step.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Having used up my allotted hours for handyman duties that month, the front screen door continued to make a high-pitched ear-piercing scraping sound for the next two months.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why didn’t I fix the door during the next month’s allotted handyman hours, I hear you ask? I used those to weed the garden and poison the weeds growing through the pavers. A broad definition of handymanning, I admit – one that most would categorise as gardening. But since it uses equipment purchased at a large hardware warehouse, I feel entitled to categorise the activity under ‘handymanning’.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So this week, radical surgery was required.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No, not leaving the screen door off for good. That would stop the scraping noise, but risks filling the house with flies, mosquitos and the family of possums that live in our roof but who I suspect would happily move further indoors.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Instead, I proposed to cut a sliver of wood off the bottom with my trusty $8 saw. What could go wrong?!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For starters, I lay the door on the paved patio, so that as the door vibrated with each saw cut, the lacquer was rubbed off its underside.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I stood the door against the wall to admire my handywork, it looked like that possum family had spent all night scratching it to try to get inside.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That’s when I noticed that I had cut a fine sliver off the top of the door, instead of the bottom.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I’m nothing it not dogged. So I lay the door on its other side and cut a sliver off the real bottom, instead of the other bottom, which was really the top.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course I again forgot to lay the door on any protective sheet. When I was finished the other side was scraped worse than the first. (I may have sawed a little more roughly the second time around. I am dogged but a little ratty when hot and bothered.)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It now looked like the possum family was trying to escape from inside the house. Perhaps they couldn’t stand the high-pitched ear-piercing scraping sound of the front door either?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I again stood the screen door against the wall and admired my handywork. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What was once a beautifully lacquered cedar screen door now stood scratched and leaning sideways on my rough cut, like a refugee from Cyclone Yasi.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I sighed as I trudged towards the garage to fetch the lacquer. I touched it up and hung it back up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Surprisingly, the screen door no longer scrapes on the front step. It swings silently open. And closed. It’s doing everything a screen door should, including keeping out the possum family.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And from a distance you can barely notice the ragged bottom, both of them.</span><br />
<br />Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-56694206819884356302012-08-31T14:29:00.000+10:002012-08-31T14:29:31.336+10:00I'm not the marrying kind<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">“J always picks The Complicated One. It’s not fair. She wants to marry him, but I asked him first!”</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course L didn’t say ‘The Complicated One’, or even TCO – only I call him that. But her meaning was crystal clear – the little boy she’d decided to marry in the first week of kindy was now devoted to another girl.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Fast and furious friendships seem typical of these heady first weeks and months of your first year at school. It’s a bit like speed dating, but with the cheap white wine replaced by juice poppers.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">L is right – she definitely had first dibs on him. I clearly remember TCO and L holding hands as they walked back to class from morning assembly in the second week of school. I was so relieved he’d made a friend, after his first few days had been truly horrendous.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">(On days 1 and 2 we physically had to push him through the classroom door, crying, and pull it tight behind us to prevent his escape. We then walked quickly away to the fading sound of his screams.<a href="http://clevek.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/first-day-of-school-blues.html" target="_blank"> First day of school blues</a>.)</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yet it was only a few days until he made friends with L and things began to settle down, and only another few weeks until he really clicked with J. They are now fast friends, each waiting until the other arrives in the morning so they can play handball together.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In 20 years, if they decide to marry, I wonder if J or L will still have to promise to ‘submit to him’, as is currently the rage in some ‘forward-thinking’ Anglican Church parishes. I hope not.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I certainly know the church would not approve of our boys current plans to marry another boy!</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Complicated One and The Big Fella both asked Sherrie the other day if they could marry a boy instead of a girl.</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">“Not at the moment, but it’s currently under investigation,” she replied. </span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">TBF wants to marry his male cousin J. TCO thinks it might be best marry a boy as well but is leaving his options open (a wise move, given how keen those little girls J and L are to marry him).</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who knows how or why people will be getting hitched in 20 or 30 years? The smart money is probably on the boys, not the Anglicans.</span>Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-5528966661521749212012-08-08T15:26:00.000+10:002012-08-08T15:26:52.065+10:00Clothes and circuses"Can we look at the clothes section after we look at the toys?"<br />
<br />
Not words often uttered by 4-year-old boys. Unless they're The Big Fella continuing his quest to look fashionably cool this spring.<br />
<br />
He certainly dressed to impress for our first family visit to the circus last weekend. His Angry Birds t-shirt and scruffy blue jeans blended nicely with the circus roadies.<br />
<br />
It was an old school circus with lions, monkeys, ponies, clowns and trapeze artists.<br />
<br />
Admittedly the lions looked rather tired, the monkeys riding the ponies looked alarmingly manic, and the clowns made rather tired risque jokes. But the trapeze artists were rather good, and the atmosphere was quite jolly.<br />
<br />
At 4 and 6, the boys were just the right age to be delighted by all the silliness and the pantomime atmosphere. Particularly the physical humour of the clowns. The look on their faces was priceless.<br />
<br />
I know it's probably quite politically incorrect to like a circus. And for those like me with allergies, there was dust. And animal hair. In an enclosed space.<br />
<br />
But if take your best antihistamine and adjust your other medication before heading off, adults may have an acceptable time as well.<br />
<br />
"What was your favourite part of the circus?" we asked the boys afterwards.<br />
<br />
"The clowns," replied The Complicated One.<br />
<br />
"The part where they bumped each other off the table, or the bit where they crashed the clown car?"<br />
<br />
"No, the clowns we put the balls in. I love my pig." (He won a stuffed pig, which is rather cute.)<br />
<br />
Seems they liked the sideshow alley at the entrance more than what happened under the big top.<br />
<br />
So perhaps it's an old-fashioned carnival with sideshow alley they prefer, more than an old-fashioned circus. <br />
<br />
Provided The Big Fella can dress to impress, he probably doesn't care where he goes - as long as he's looking goooood!Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-25953801748919380552012-06-03T10:56:00.000+10:002012-06-03T10:56:20.799+10:00Eurovision is over - but let's hope Abba reunite!The lights have dimmed on Eurovision for another year. But out of darkness rises hope. Hope that as the song contest heads to Sweden next year, Abba may reunite to mark the 39th anniversary of winning Eurovision.<br />
<br />
The year was 1974, and Waterloo won the song contest in Brighton, England - launching Abba to worldwide fame. These days, you've a better chance of launching a global singing career on a North Korean rocket than the Eurovision song contest.<br />
<br />
But Sweden's <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27943" target="_blank">Loreen</a> was a deserving winner of <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/baku-2012" target="_blank">Eurovision 2012</a> in Baku, Azerbaijan. Euphoria is a great song, and her performance was compelling. With her flowing dark hair and jerky choreography, Loreen was Kate Bush reincarnated (Wuthering Heights Kate Bush, not sexed-up Babushka Kate Bush - sigh).<br />
<br />
Of course, babushkas did make an appearance at Eurovision this year. The <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27713" target="_blank">Russian</a> entry featured six grannies in traditional babushka costumes, bopping along to a tricked-up folk tune. It was good enough to finish runner-up - and win special mention for best use of a pizza oven as a stage prop.<br />
<br />
Best use of a Chesterfield armchair went to Denmark. In this rarely awarded category, <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27703" target="_blank">Soluna Samay</a> sang perhaps the catchiest tune of the night, Should've Known Better - and didn't she look a treat in her jaunty captain's hat. Finishing 22nd says more about the vagaries of the Eurovision voting system than the quality of Denmark's song. <br />
<br />
Ireland's <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27733" target="_blank">Jedward</a> had another rarely awarded category all to themselves - best use of a water feature. Who cares if they barely sang a word. It was a damn catchy tune, and Australians voted them 3rd on the SBS TV poll even though they finished 19th officially.<br />
<br />
Otherwise, there was a rare alignment of looks and talent at this year's Eurovision.<br />
<br />
The cutest boys sang some decent songs - think <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27983" target="_blank">Ott Lepland</a>, Estonia's answer to Ronan Keating, the brooding good looks of Norway's <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27963" target="_blank">Toopi</a>, even the swarthy Serbian <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=28023" target="_blank">Zelijke Joksimovic</a> who finished 3rd.<br />
<br />
And the cutest girls definitely sang some of the best songs - apart from Sweden and Denmark, think Italy's <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=26773" target="_blank">Nina Zilli</a>, who channeled the look and sound of a clean and sober Amy Winehouse, and Cypriot bombshell <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=27673" target="_blank">Ivi Adamou</a> singing La La Love (OK, the song is not great, but gee...)<br />
<br />
Voice of the night was definitely Spain's <a href="http://www.eurovision.tv/page/history/year/participant-profile/?song=26763" target="_blank">Pastora Soler</a>, who will blow you away!<br />
<br />
Quote of the night went to Bulgaria. "Let me escalate your spirits" said the Bulgarian presenter as she introduced the results of her country's vote. <br />
<br />
My spirits will be escalated if Abba reunite for Eurovision 2013 in Sweden. Until then, I have the CD of this year's songs to keep me going, and better still the recording of the two semis and the final. Eurovision is a treat for all the senses.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-39798403573986264092012-05-21T14:04:00.000+10:002012-05-21T14:04:16.078+10:00Robin Gibb and the loss of innocenceIt's hard to capture in words what the death of Robin Gibb means to me. But look at this simple <a href="http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/showbiz/4329053/Bee-Gees-legend-Robin-Gibb-dies-aged-62.html" target="_blank">photo</a> of Barry, Robin and Maurice, before they were the Bee Gees...<br />
<br />
(Scroll down the article to find the black-and-white photo where Barry looks about 12 or 13 years old, Robin (centre) and Maurice about 9 or 10. The caption says the photo was taken during their years in Brisbane, which was between about 1958 and 1966.)<br />
<br />
With their white Chesty Bonds-style t-shirts and shorts, and big smiles on their wide open faces - it's a picture of innocence, optimism, and brotherly love.<br />
<br />
It's also a photo that breaks my heart - as a parent of two young boys who wonders what life will bring for them.<br />
<br />
This black-and-white image of the Gibb brothers seems to capture all that was good and sweet and innocent about 1960s Australia. The tennis whites a reminder of how our champions ruled the tennis world. The guitar that hints at artistic talent. Their faces suffused with a healthy youthful radiance that mirrors how we saw ourselves - a young nation, full of talent and dreams, starting to punch above our weight on the world stage.<br />
<br />
It's a photo of three brothers whose futures were inextricably linked, and whose lives would unfold with great highs but also many lows.<br />
<br />
Only a few years later, as the Bee Gees the brothers would have their first Australian number 1 (<i>Spicks and Specks</i>), and a few years later their first worldwide number 1 (<i>Massachusetts</i>). After a string of hits in the late 1960s and early 1970s featuring the ethereal voice of Robin, in the late 1970s they would define the disco era, with Barry's falsetto their signature sound. They would go on to become Britain's most successful songwriting partnership after Lennon-McCartney. <br />
<br />
The lows would come too, with their early split as a band before Robin reunited with his brothers. The periods of drug and alcohol abuse that seemingly came hand-in-hand with their massive chart success. The death of their younger brother Andy at just 30, after years of cocaine use. Later, the deaths of Maurice at 54 and Robin at 62 - both premature by contemporary longevity standards.<br />
<br />
And today I think of Barry, now 66, the sole survivor of his three younger brothers. How must he feel? Watch him as an older man sing <a href="http://www.barrygibb.com/" target="_blank">Immortality</a>, which he dedicates to his brothers. Then look back at this <a href="http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/showbiz/4329053/Bee-Gees-legend-Robin-Gibb-dies-aged-62.html" target="_blank">photo</a> of them as boys.<br />
<br />
That innocent photo of three boys on the verge of greatness makes me wonder about how life will unfold for our two sons.<br />
<br />
I don't wish worldwide fame on them, or anyone else. But you can't help wonder will they be happy? Will they find fulfillment? Will they avoid the pitfalls of drug or alcohol abuse that claims the lives of not just the famous, but ordinary people too - as alcohol helped claim the life of my own father at only 52.<br />
<br />
There are plenty of self-help books and gurus to help us understand how to live well. I just hope and wish The Big Fella and The Complicated One may live happy and healthy lives, in times of peace and equality. I hope it's not too much to ask.<br />
<br />
It's not fashionable to say so, but the Bee Gees' music has brought me much happiness over many years. Listen to <i>First of May</i> and try not to cry about the loss of childhood innocence. If you're a teenager in love, try <i>How Deep is Your Love</i>. And try not to sway along to <i>Nights on Broadway -</i> it's impossible.<br />
<br />
Vale Robin Gibb, brother to Barry, Maurice and Andy.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-11400958707541064182012-05-19T17:19:00.001+10:002012-05-19T17:51:53.295+10:00Slave to fashion at age 4 going on 14The Big Fella assumed full responsibility for his wardrobe several months ago. He's just turned 4 going on 14.<br />
<br />
He's not yet buying his own clothes. Or washing them. But all other clothes-related decisions are his and his alone.<br />
<br />
He decides what to wear during the day. And at night. <br />
<br />
Spider-Man pyjamas must be matched with Spider-Man undies. Ben 10 pyjamas with Ben 10 undies. Dark blue singlets are preferable to grey. Both are preferable to white.<br />
<br />
But it's daywear he's really particular about.<br />
<br />
If his Ben 10 t-shirt and hoodie jacket are in the wash, there's hell to pay. Although he's happier now that we have an Angry Birds t-shirt as back-up. And there's always the old standbys of several Spider-Man t-shirts.<br />
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We may as well give away all his other clothes, as he only wears the same three outfits in high rotation. Lucky I like washing.<br />
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The Big Fella is usually fully dressed and ready to leave the house by 6am or 6.30am at the latest. Complete with shoes and socks, jacket, and Ben 10 cap.<br />
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We don't usually leave the house until 8.30am - but he likes to be prepared.<br />
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He not only chooses all his own clothes, day and night, he must always dress himself. His brother, nearly 6, would still prefer we dress him and make all clothes-related decisions for him. Quite frankly, The Complicated One couldn't care less what he wears.<br />
<br />
It's not hard to work out which teenager will spend all his pocket money on the latest hip outfits - and who won't.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-39072491532088594062012-05-13T15:32:00.001+10:002012-05-14T07:35:41.460+10:00Mother's Day massacre avertedThe Big Fella threatened to assassinate his mum on the eve of Mother's Day. Having just turned 4, we hope he was just asserting his newfound sense of independence, rather than trying to recreate the St Valentine's Day massacre.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing?" mum asked as he knelt in front of his toybox, throwing its contents on the floor all around him.<br />
<br />
"I'm looking for my gun to shoot you."<br />
<br />
The Big Fella was upset about an earlier bathtime incident, where he thought his older brother, The Complicated One, had been unjustly dealt with by his parents, in particular his mother.<br />
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So he was springing to his brother's defence and threatening to exact revenge on mum.<br />
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Several minutes later he emerged from his room. Fortunately, he was gunless.<br />
<br />
"I'll shoot you in the morning," he declared, as he stomped off to his bath.<br />
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The next day, as the boys were handing over their Mother's Day presents, The Big Fella remembered his threat of the night before.<br />
<br />
"I'm not going to shoot you - because it's Mother's Day," he declared.<br />
<br />
The lack of a suitable weapon had averted a Mother's Day massacre in suburban Sydney. Were that Al Capone and Bugs Moran had experienced a similar lack of guns in Chicago, a sad chapter in America history may have gone unwritten.<br />
<br />
There's a lesson there for all of us. Disarm The Big Fella, and we can all rest easy at night.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-66920375729662232872012-04-08T12:30:00.000+10:002012-04-08T12:30:56.810+10:00I'm addicted to ReacherI should be preparing dinner. Instead I'm writing a blog about <a href="http://www.leechild.com/" target="_blank">Jack Reacher</a>. But who can blame me? He's 6 foot 5 inches, 110kgs of muscle, ex-US Military Police, served all over the world, Silver Star for bravery, expert in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, and he takes no shit from nobody.<br />
<br />
He's a terrific fictional creation by author Lee Child, and I've just read all 16 Reacher novels in order and back-to-back over the past 4 months. I'm addicted, and I don't care! <br />
<br />
I've now got a 6-month wait until his next novel is published, and that wait for <i>A Wanted Man</i> is going to kill me as surely as Reacher would if I was some low-life scum who didn't live up to his standards of human behaviour. (Actually, it's exactly 146 days today until it's despatched to me, as I just pre-ordered a copy from my new best friend, <a href="http://www.bookdepository.com/" target="_blank">The Book Depository</a>.)<br />
<br />
The first 15 novels are set in the years after Reacher leaves the army and starts hitch-hiking across the US, often reluctantly being drawn into helping local law enforcement solve some kind of crime. There's often a love interest, but he always solves the case, kills a few low-life scum along the way, and walks out of town without looking back.<br />
<br />
Reacher is always on the side of the small and less powerful, but not in some kind of soppy way. He's as tough as nails - emotionally as well as physically, and prefers life alone on the road. He carries no suitcase or personal possessions, other than a toothbrush. He buys cheap new clothes when the old are dirty (although they're normally ripped beyond repair in a fight first).<br />
<br />
The latest and 16th novel in the series, <a href="http://www.leechild.com/books.php" target="_blank"><i>The Affair</i></a>, takes place during his last week in the army. Loyal readers finally get to see how intuitive an investigator and courageous an MP he was. We gain a greater insight into why he walked out of the army one day, and just kept walking.<br />
<br />
The latest paperback version includes a new short story, <i>Second Son</i>, which sheds some light on Reacher as a teenager. It's terrific too.<br />
<br />
Sorry to sound like a gushing idiot. This isn't Cormac McCarthy or Ernest Hemingway. But Child's thrillers are consistently compelling and Reacher an interesting enigma.<br />
<br />
There's a bit of Reacher in everyone, I reckon - and therein lies the author's success.<br />
<br />
"I picked a road at random ... and I stuck out my thumb."Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-20052554989564045832012-04-02T14:56:00.000+10:002012-04-02T14:56:36.421+10:00Earth Hour nightmares"What are we doing for Earth Hour!" screamed The Complicated One. It was the Saturday morning of Earth Hour. Clearly he'd been dreaming about it, and plainly he'd decided our response was inadequate.<br />
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Last week his science teacher had asked everyone in class what they were doing for Earth Hour.<br />
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She didn't seem impressed by The Complicated One's answer that his parents would be going to bed early and hoping for their annual night of uninterrupted sleep.<br />
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Since when do kindy kids have science teachers? Next he'll want a financial adviser for his Dollarmites account.<br />
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Clearly he'd gone to bed worried that his parents weren't taking Earth Hour seriously, and had nightmares about our inadequate response.<br />
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So he was demanding a family conference. Involving both his parents. At 5.30 in the morning.<br />
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You'll recall that Earth Hour coincided with the end of daylight savings. So as an added bonus, during our family conference we all got to enjoy the maximum period of darkness remaining until dawn - over 1 and a half hours to be fairly precise.<br />
<br />
Earlier in the week I had laid out what I thought was a pretty comprehensive household response... <br />
<ol><li>We'd recently upgraded from our power-hungry plasma TV to a more energy efficient LED LCD model (I haven't really thrown the plasma away - just relocated it, but he doesn't need to know.)</li>
<li>Mummy and daddy would turn off all the lights in the house and watch the LED LCD TV in darkness (we do this every night, but he doesn't need to know).</li>
<li>We'd unplug the electric toothbrushes and the kettle.</li>
<li>I'd needlessly capitalise Earth Hour in my blog.</li>
<li>We could also unplug his nightlight. </li>
</ol>Somehow he was still unimpressed.<br />
<br />
In the end he settled for the toothbrushes and kettle.<br />
<br />
But he thought his nightlight should remain on.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-37545926541845047932012-03-13T14:28:00.000+11:002012-03-13T14:28:03.506+11:00Big Fella top dogThe Big Fella is enjoying being top dog. For 2 days each week, he sets the pace.<br />
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It's just me and him. He gets to decide which park to visit, which library books we borrow, and what games we play. He even gets first bid on what we're eating for dinner.<br />
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Of course it all ends at 3pm when school finishes and we collect The Complicated One. Then it's back to normal. Or abnormal.<br />
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And now The Big Fella has tasted the high life as top dog, things can get a bit testy at the pound when the old dog returns.<br />
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There is much pawing at the ground and gnashing of teeth as he asserts his few-found authority. They disagree over anything and everything - who gets to play with what toy, whose toy is it anyhow, how to play a game, whose game is it anyway, what we're having for dinner, and whether the sky is blue or green. <br />
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Being two months shy of his 4th birthday and in the 'big' room at child care, The Big Fella thinks he's king of the world.<br />
<br />
Until The Complicated One reminds him that's he's nearly six and is going to school. At which point The Big Fella declares, "Well, I'm going to school next year!"<br />
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Which may or may not be the case, depending on how soon The Big Fella can count past 14 and write more than the first two letters of his name. Even if he can't, he has the personality to bluff his way through kindergarten even now.<br />
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Chances are he'll find the whole experience less traumatic than his big brother, who after 6 weeks of Kindergarten is wracked with existential angst when he can't read a sentence that would trouble most Year 2 kids.<br />
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The Big Fella already dresses each morning like he's off to a Year 12 school formal. He takes great care to match one of Spiderman t-shirts with the right pair of shorts, choose socks that are cool ("are these socks cool?" he asks most mornings), and adjust the tilt of his cap (the bucket had was long ago ditched as uncool).<br />
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The Complicated One couldn't care less what he wears. He has too much on his mind as it is, what with re-sorting his Moshi Monsters collection and deciding on the pros and cons of different approaches to securing world peace.<br />
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A mum whispered to me during school assembly this morning that her son told her that everyone in his class wants to be like The Complicated One. No, not complicated - but attentive in class, considerate and respectful of others, and generally helpful and well-behaved.<br />
<br />
My heart filled to bursting.<br />
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As for The Big Fella, he's busy mixing poison in the cubby house. "Don't come in, I'm mixing poison" he yelled at me yesterday afternoon.<br />
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Let's just hope he's not planning to poison the top dog.Cleve Killibyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16803055147180849336noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1036979317877240761.post-29862584294585755782012-02-27T13:06:00.000+11:002012-02-27T13:06:09.765+11:00Fading first day of school bluesWeek 5 of school and the first day blues are fading. We’re not out of the woods yet, but the path is smoother and the undergrowth is thinner and hides fewer dangers.<br />
<br />
Much to our relief The Complicated One is making friends quickly. Last week after morning assembly I watched him walk back to class holding hands with a little girl (who he later told us he is going to marry!). They were the only ones holding hands – it looked terribly sweet.<br />
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He even quietly admits to enjoying many parts of the school day.<br />
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He loves doing little jobs - delivering the lunch orders from the canteen, couriering the school banking envelopes from classroom to front office, being bag police.<br />
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He’s fully into his readers, and taking up the challenge of reading a new book each night. He loves us filling out the diary that records what he’s read and what he liked about it, and getting a sticker.<br />
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There are a few kids who like him are already reading. But everyone’s different. While some kids are struggling with the curriculum, he’s still struggling with some of the social aspects.<br />
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He reckons recess and lunch are too long. Which we guess is related to the friends situation, which while much improved is still a source of some agitation for him.<br />
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Waiting in the playground for the music that signals morning assembly, he still won’t leave my lap, even though we’re often surrounded by a group of kids asking him to play.<br />
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Deep down we know that of course he’ll soon be running off without a backwards look. But we also know that he’s always taken longer than most to settle into new social situations.<br />
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It’s a matter of being patient. We’re just so relieved he’s not still crying himself to sleep, and that most mornings we can trundle off to school with little or no complaint.<br />
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Doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it, or it’s easy – but he’s coping.<br />
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We were warned by friends with kids who recently went through Kindy of the terrible rages that can occur after school. Tired and stressed kids who’ve been holding it together all day suddenly let themselves explode in the safety of their home.<br />
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We’ve had a few of these episodes. Often it’s a brief bit of yelling and crying over a small thing that he’d normally take in his stride.<br />
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So most afternoons it’s like walking on eggshells – don’t upset the crazy Kindy pupil in the corner!<br />
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It's just a matter of adjusting my medication and taking it in our stride.<br />
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