Monday, 25 April 2011

Easter of Eden

Eminem is a poet. You know that song with Rihanna? The opening line slays me every time:

I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like.

Is that not true of every last thing? We can't say what things really are - we can only say what they feel like. PROFUNDITY.

Last week I was in the car with Dave and I played that one line over and over and over again. (I'm not annoying at all.) And he flipped, but I just said "HON. Take this one sentence and apply it to anything in life. It fits everything - it's just .. our perception of things."

Tangent: When he and I first met, I had my own radio show at the local community radio station. I was called Miss Lady DJ, after the RuPaul song. At 10pm til 12pm every Sunday night, I'd cart all of my CDs in an old fashioned beige 60's makeup case. Even in winter. For free. Apparently, that now gives me carte blanche to chop and change every piece of music in the car, for as long as we both shall live. When we're getting on ok, he doesn't mind ... I just say "Miss Lady DJ" as the codeword - we laugh, it's cute. When things are tense - on a long car trip, or on the way back from my MILs, for example ... I'm not allowed to change the station. But my husband listens to old classics and it kiiiiiillllls meeeee - so sometimes my hand darts out as quick as a flash and I change the station or CD. He hates it - but I prefer his wrath than listening to Heart. Or Hootie and the Blowfish. Or Dionne Warwick.


This weekend has felt like .. awful. I can't tell you what it really was. Only what it feels like. Horrible, then great, bad again, full of despair ... hope, redemption, etc. And that was just the Friday night!

I had fun with my two boys, my guys, my Givers of Peace. I stole their Lifeforces and their fresh energy. I am a thief of love.

                                               Pew pew pew!

We took a walk down to a park we rarely go to, and found this odd bunny that was seemingly constructed out of concrete or plaster. And painted a strange red, reminding me of the opening scene of Carrie. Or the last scene, can't remember.

Plug it up

I took Rocco for piggy back rides all over, he pointed and bossed me around. He is the scariest boss I've ever had.

I read him books for an hour straight, laying next to each other on the floor in the living room. Living. I would finish one and ask him to go get another one. Every time, he looked at me with mock-surprise. "Oh - anodder one?" We read piles of them. After one particularly long interval of him finding a new one, he walked back to me slowly with the look that strikes fear into my heart.

"A big pi-well, mummy."

                                                   A big pile

Eh, I've cleaned up worse.

So there's one thing that Americans do that Australians don't tend to ... put frosting on cookies. GENIUS! I can cook pretty well, if I put my mind to it. We hired out the latest Harry Potter DVD, came home and whipped up a batch of Betty Crocker choc chip cookies. Half-baked, so the middle was gooey. I even bought frosting accoutrement.

And I frosted those cookies, man. There was only four left to frost, after I'd finished eating most of the cookie dough. True.

                           Yes, these are the actual ones I made I KNOW

I still haven't eaten mine yet, because I feel sick from the dough. I'll probably eat it tomorrow.

As I decorated them, I remember all the times my grandmother would bake a sponge cake and just tell me to go to town on its ass. She would look at the finished cakie and just gush with praise. I wasn't used to praise. "Oh Edies .. you are so creative! This looks wonderful, you've done such a great job." I distinctly remember wondering if she really meant it.

I think she might have. Is that ok? Are you allowed to acknowledge and recognize, when you're good at something? I read recently that false modesty is worse than arrogance.

I am a good cake decorator.


I'm ending it there, my brain gets muddled when I try to get too many themes out. I hope your Easter didn't start off as Schmeastery as mine. But I hope you felt the love in your heart like I did.

It's everywhere to be found - Universe leaves it hanging around in piles.


  1. amy turn sharp of doobleh-vay ... I love YOU xo

  2. Goddess, I hope to hell we're allowed acknowledge and recognise, when we're good at stuff. Far out, because I am LEGEND Wii type person....

    Diminishing Lucy: Wii'd off....

    Love that you read pi-wells of books. We need that. All of us.


  3. Thank you for your honesty and sense of humor! I have shared this with a few of my favorite Easter Mommies.

  4. I told my husband the other day (who was only half listening to me) that anyone who calls themself a wordsmith, but is too snobby to acknowledge eminem as a poetic genius, is a prick. I marvel, I bow to his ability to bend words which shouldn't rhyme into the easiest meter ever spoken. And then the poignance with which he does it, pshhhh... he's all that and a bag of chips, yo :)

  5. Love you. Waiting for our Easter festivities to begin over here and was so grateful for the post ...

    I always find myself warming myself next to your words -- like a fire -- you lay it all out here -- I admire it. And you.

    For lots of reasons and not just your kick-ass cake decorating...



  6. No Hootie ever! And, you are good at decorating baked items. Hooray!

  7. I'm a big fan of Eminem's lyrics myself - and he's awesomely incredible at selecting female singers to sample and complement his songs.

    Reading big pi-wells of books sounds like a good way to spend Easter. Holidays are always disappointing for me, so a low-key time spent doing what is fun is the best thing to remember.

    Frosting on cookies = awesome! That's my personal antidepressant.

  8. I don't know what it is, I only know what it feels like. God. Truth!

  9. OMG that radio in the car scenario is waaaaaaay too familiar :P

    My wife and I do the same kind of thing.

    I really like the part where you explain how your hand just darts out and changes the channel. It's indicative of the kind of self-control, patience and tolerance needed in a marriage that has suddenly run out and needs to change that radio station before you go damn crazy!

    That's cool that you were a DJ too. I've done a bit of that in the past and I'm getting into it again now. Any plans to get into again yourself? I'm rediscovering how much fun it is - it's great!

    Anyway, thanks for posting and have a nice day!

  10. Hoppy Easter to you and yours!

    I'm so glad that you win the war with darkness and depression EVERY time (some skirmishes can and are lost as well as an occassional battle, but the war . . . won everytime)! Now, if you ever figure out how to END the war even if only for a significant amount of time, I want to be among the first to know! That would be awesome!

    YOU are strength, courage and determination in red boots. Thank you!

  11. Happy Easter Red. I got drunk but my kid was the one who ended up vomiting. Result. x

  12. Happy Easter, mine was spent eating chocolate all day and night, love is indeed everywhere and shown in all different ways :D

  13. The universe is generous with those piles, kinda like Americans with frosting. Glad you found yours.


  14. Well Miss Lady DJ I'd dig hearing you on the radio here, it's all top 40 round these parts ;)
    I'm in charge of the radio and tv remotes here too...usually, I hear you about grumpy hubby.
    I feel creepy saying I'm good at something, I do it often for work purposes etc but inside it feels strange...
    Oh and I'm Canadian....but I frost as many things as I can as my thighs reflect.

  15. My husband whistles on long trips. It is never any tune I can decipher. It makes me want to lunge at him and choke him out, right there while he is driving. He is the kindest person I know. I am the calmest person I know. But, the long drive the constant high pitch... argh... Menopause?

  16. And Bob Seeger.

    You are good at so many things. I think so, anyway.

    Sounds like a day of perfect moments. Glad you had them and glad you noticed them.

  17. ALWAYS acknowledge that you're good at something - be your own cheerleader!

    Also, I will not show this post to my husband, as he will have me frosting cookies from now on.

  18. I love that verse of the song. It changed the way I write.

    Frosting on cookies is something this American has never done. But to be fair, I don't really use my kitchen. Now, eating frosting straight outta the can or bowl? All over that, my friend.


  19. Sadly, my Easter has also been more than a little Schmeastery. There has been Significant Anniversaries (you know the sort); bickery family arguments; the end of a long term friendship and bodily fluids spouting from children in all directions. Oh, and all the chocolate is dairy and gluten free and kind of gross. Oh yes, I know all about Schmeastery... I'm not in a sad despairing place in spite of the substandard chocolate though, so I'm going to send all my good vibes your way, Babe.

  20. you're fabulous at EVERYTHING you do - yes even the stuff you fail at - why? because at least you tried it.

    rock on miss lady dj.


  21. you know what I wish?

    I wish we were neighbours and could have spent this weekend of mindfuckery together.

    Decorating cakes of awesome.

  22. brilliant. There have been a few evenings when my significant other - an otherwise professional mid 40's woman pulls up late in the car (other side of bedroom wall - where, well yes...I was sleeping) with Eminem blaring so loudly I could swear a gang of "uncontrollable youths" just stopped by. And I love that about her.

  23. And do you own the movie 8 Mile and watch it over and over and over and over when the kids are in bed?

    Thought you did.

    See you tonight, I start about 11ish.

  24. That is a hell of a good line.

  25. I love reading to my kids - when you know they are lost in the story. Love the magic.

    btw - those cakes looks delicious x

  26. Easter = 5 days in bush. 4 people in 2 person tent. 3 tonnes of chocolate. 2 very hypo, filthy, overtired toddlers. 1 very very mentally insane little chicken who is pretty sure she is NEVER going camping AGAIN!!

    P.s. Love your blog. Read it everyday. Helps me to know being insane is ok.

  27. Hootie. And the Blow Fish.

    You have my deepest condolences.

  28. If you can look past his dreadful taste in music (if you can call it that), then you are a generous and loving woman, indeed. And a kick-ass cake/cookie decorator!

  29. your post made me think about this quote "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." Maya Angelou:


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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