Today is the first 'real' day of my little stay-at-home holiday (yesterday was a Bank Holiday here in the UK so everyone else had a day off too - which makes it feel a little less like it's my holiday.) I had not specifically planned to post about it but I've had such a brilliant afternoon, I just had to brag about it share it with you all.
It started with a routine dentist appointment. I got the usual tut-tutting around my general lack of flossing, a bit of a clean and polish and that was it for another year. I grant you, nothing really exciting to report. But wait, it gets better.
Next it was a visit to the Oxfam bookshop, one of my favourite things to do. I cannot believe that I lived here for over 6 years and only discovered this little gem about 6 months ago. I have not bought a new book since and my new-found attachment to this trove of glorious treasures has merely fuelled the little voice in my head that suggests that I would never get the same unabashed joy from a Kindle. Today the cunning plan was to drop off a bag of books that I'd read (I am a big fan of recycling the literary love) and have just a quick fossick before grabbing a spot of lunch and seeing a movie.
Well, it was a longer fossick than anticipated and I came out with another half a dozen to add to my bookshelf. But the best bit was a couple that have been on my 'list to read' for quite a while. First there's Leaving the World by Douglas Kennedy - I loved my first read of his, The Big Picture, so much so that I resolved to read more of his stuff (see Book 5. in my 50 Book Challenge). And there was also Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantell, highly recommended by several literary-ily addicted friends and a Man Booker Prize Winner. I left Oxfam feeling like I had discovered the Universe (or at least a small planet).
The rest of my afternoon was spent with teenage babe-in-the-woods, Hanna. I cannot remember the last time I went to the movies on my own (probably over six years ago which was the last time I was single) but it's such a joyfully selfish and indulgent thing to do. I loved the movie and the girl who plays the lead is just brilliant/stunning.
I emerged from the darkened cinema to a day turned all bright and sunshine-y so I polished off a fab afternoon with a spot of reading at home in the sunshine.
So that was my perfect, perfect Day 1 and I can't wait to see what Day 2 will bring!
(Yes another one - you get real value on this blog!)
After many years of living here in the UK, the thing I love to dip back into most, particularly on a damp Bank Holiday afternoon like this one is an episode of Neighbours.
I mean, what's not to like about that laid-back never-rainy life in a cul-de-sac? (Which technically should not be called a Street but rather, a Court - actually it is a Court in real life, Pin Oak Court to be exact.) It really signals a day off for me - whether it be on holidays or with a sick note in hand, to be best enjoyed from my super comfy vantage point under the green blanket on the couch in between other bastions of daytime telly, Loose Women and 60 Minute Makeover.
So today's late afternoon downpour had me rescuing the half-dry laundry and settling down to some cosy couch-based entertainment. Bliss!
Every week I get an email newsletter from Australian Times. It keeps me in touch with what's going on with Aussies in London and also with some of the big stories Down Under. But this week's article by Adrian Craddock, Does Being Australian Make You Less Employable? hit a particularly sensitive spot.
I arrived in London at the age of 34. I had achieved a great many things in my career up to that point and my move to London, while sudden, was a permanent one as far as I was concerned. I had great references and could give many examples showing the results I'd achieved and how I'd 'managed' to do this. I'd qualified easily for my work visa under the Highly Skilled Migrants Programme. Note that this was not the 2 year working visa, or youth mobility visa as it's now called, that most Aussies who are under the age of 30 and without UK ancestry come on. I'd sold my apartment and had a shipping container of furniture on the way.
No-one actually said anything but as I trawled the recruiters and the job boards and built my networks, I felt an undercurrent of disbelief from the locals. Had I actually done all of those things at such a 'young' age? Was I really here for good and how could they count on me not to get homesick and flee back to Melbourne? And for that matter, why hadn't I stayed in Australia if my career had been that great?
On top of this, I was faced with the constant refusal to believe that the skills and experience I had put to such good use in Australia (and in dealing with suppliers and customers in overseas markets while based there) could possibly be transferred to the UK.
And the longer this went on, the more difficult it got. Added to the great unspoken was the question, 'Why aren't you working yet?'
My networks were gone - the Australian ones I'd left behind could do little to provide any pragmatic help and the new ones, while delighted with the opportunity to ask me 'what I was doing here', proved a bit of a closed shop. I didn't resort to spending my time fulfilling the common view of Australians as hard-working wanderlusts, ready to 'make the most' of the plethora of multicultural experiences just a couple of hours and a few quid away across the Channel. I kept working - temping and working in the kinds of roles I'd worked in 8-10 years prior - trying to get a foothold in the market and earn enough to pay my bills and build my life here.
Seven and a half years on and a whole rollercoaster of ups and downs later, I've learnt a lesson or two.
The first is around dogged hard-graft, relentless persistence and above all, emotional resilience. It's tough to start again. Really tough. And it's destabilising to be without those taken-for-granted ways of life, the unconditional daily support networks and, not to put too finer point on it, money. It made me dig deep to find new ways to keep going and new things to embrace about my life.
Which leads me to the second lesson: humility, integrity and faith that it would 'happen' for me. There is no such thing as being 'too big for your boots' when doing the coffee round for the office was helping me to pay my bills. I was employed to do a job, whether I liked that job or not. And I'm someone who always wants to do a job well, sometimes in the face of much cynicism and comments like 'why are going above and beyond? No-one cares!'. (I am not a proud, proud Leo for nothing!)
I'm emerging from a 2 year dip now, enjoying the sunshine (so to speak) as I climb to the top of the hill again. It's good to feel inspired and hopeful. Everywhere I look, the future is looking bright and shiny.
And the best part? I feel grounded, like I can deal with whatever comes, and lucky to have such valuable lessons from Life's never-ending classroom under my belt.
One of the tasks that I have left undone of late has been the transformation of my CD library into a seriously space-saving digital collection.
By undone, I mean that I started it about a month ago along with a little 'sorting by genre' on the sideboard. Today I have resolved to complete this chore and make the place look 'tidy' so am currently in the midst of what I like to call a 'rip and review' - ripping all of these tunes may take time but is made infinitely more bearable by dipping into each and deciding whether or not they should go into the Faves Playlist.
The Faves Playlist is the one that I play in the background whilst doing other things. Sorting the Spring/Summer wardrobe and packing away the Winter Woolies? Faves Playlist on shuffle. Tending to my small but thriving garden patch. Windows open and Faves Playlist on shuffle. Reading The Times newspaper from Saturday? Faves Playlist on shuffle. Writing my latest blog post? Well, you get the gist.
I am sitting in my front window, the sun is shining after a brief 'fat-raindrop-style' shower earlier and I am currently listening to the students from the University of Granada (a CD I picked up whilst travelling in Spain in 2002), The Florestan Trio (a legacy of my brief but rather lovely subscription with the Australian Chamber Orchestra) and Acoustic Love (a CD I bought in 2006 in the honeymoon period of a relationship, you know when the world is shiny and people/things don't p**s you off nearly as much as usual) all the while dipping back into a few existing faves like Lady Gaga, Chris Daughtry or some 70s Disco (Born To Be Alive, You Make Me Feel etc).
I've come across some real joys this afternoon. Music that takes me back to events and places and moments I'd forgotten about, some tunes that I've listened to today as if for the first time. But I was unprepared for the effect of one particular tune - from the first moment I heard it until right here and now in my front window, it still moves me to tears. It's not necessarily the words or any memory it evokes - it's just the most beautiful song and it's definitely worth a blog post to share it.
So here's Eva Cassidy's version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow to enjoy on your Sunday wherever you are.
Well, it was a longer fossick than anticipated and I came out with another half a dozen to add to my bookshelf. But the best bit was a couple that have been on my 'list to read' for quite a while. First there's Leaving the World by Douglas Kennedy - I loved my first read of his, The Big Picture, so much so that I resolved to read more of his stuff (see Book 5. in my 50 Book Challenge). And there was also Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantell, highly recommended by several literary-ily addicted friends and a Man Booker Prize Winner. I left Oxfam feeling like I had discovered the Universe (or at least a small planet).
