Dear Darling

I'm an 80's baby.

I grew up being called darling by my Daddy with the occasional Aunt or Grandparent chiming in with a sweetie, love or honey. They are words reserved for family, people comforting a child and anyone over the age of 50. I'll sometimes even accept it from a close friend.

There is almost a right of passage to use one of these words. However, the conditions of use were some how blurred in the late 90's and have unfortunately since been lost, never to been found again.


I have started to wonder if the ability to use a term of endearment is written as a prerequisite on fast food job descriptions...Must be able to say "just go to the waiting bay hun, thanks love!" And there goes my desire for the big bun of badness I just ordered.

You don't need to call me anything. I don't need a name and you don't need to randomly throw me one of the many words you have slaughtered due to overuse.

Is it possible that I have taken an early turn into Cranky Land or is my right to pass peacefully through drive thru with a "Thank you have a nice day full stop the end nothing further to say" too much to ask?

I'm in my thirties and I still call my Dad; Daddy. I do it for the sole reason that I know it grates on him and I get to enjoy the explosion that occurs after my perfectly executed sentence is complete. Could the teenage twerp be the same? Is there some hidden camera that can see me roll my eyes, pretend to gag at my husband, slap my head multiple times saying "WHY?" Are they laughing hysterically at the other end or collecting on the five buck bet that darl can be used 300 times a day?

Never the less the question remains. How do I make it end? I could order and say "I'll have that with no darl and hold the hun thanks", I could spend 10 minutes discussing my concerns while the line continues to build behind me or I could grin and bare it, role my eyes and slap my head on regular occasions. Oh the thought of the last one is just too much!

Maybe I could just write a post called Dear Darling and hope just one person in the fast food world reads it and starts a chain reaction of manners instead.

So Dear Darling, if you are reading this please.... No darl and hold the hun!


Thanks!

FEAR...

If there was one word to describe the younger version of myself it would be fearless. Nothing really scared me. I was prepared to have a crack at all opportunities and was as life embracing as a young lass can get. I danced and sang on stage and enjoyed the moments in the spotlight. I rode horses, I did a lot of public speaking and didn't really mind if I was a little left of centre of everyone else. I stood proudly in this world completely happy with the person I was mentally and physically. Life really was a fairy tale and everything was tackled head on....Until I turned 17 when one of my first loves was stripped from me because of fear and to this day I still haven't gained it back.

A lot of friends who will read this blog through facebook will remember me as a singer. Constantly humming, belting out a tune in the car or writing many a ballad about life experiences. I entered a singing competition at this age and made it through to the finals. Now it would be a lie for me to say I never got nervous - I did - every single time. But as soon as the mic was in my hand and it was time for me to walk on, the nerves would be left in the back stage curtains and I would embrace the stage.

Performing was easy, it came naturally to me and the words would flow from me without a thought - it was second nature, until this night when I forgot my words. I had nothing. I was totally blank and left the stage. This moment affected the rest of my life. Of course I went back on and though I struggled I finished the song. I'm sure that was meant to be the defining moment of it all but it wasn't. The fear of forgetting the words again was. Now each time I am asked to sing I rarely say yes then dread the occasion and have to have the words on me or decline. It's sad that I have lost the joy that singing gave me.

The significance of this is it was the first time I can remember feeling fear. Fear of what other people thought of me but most importantly fear that I wasn't as able to do things as I thought.

Since this time, in ways, I have let fear define a lot of things in my life and it has grown and crossed into many sectors of my life. It is really only this year that I have decided to tackle that problem.

You come to a point in time where you realise that you shouldn't fear FEAR. It's an emotion worthy of being felt but nothing more and nothing less. It is there to make sure our eyes are open and all options explored but it isn't a stop sign on the path forward, merely a warning light to be glanced upon while taking the next step up.

Currently I am in the midst of starting a local magazine for my town, a place that I love and am passionate about. I want to focus on all the good that our small town has to offer and there is a lot. And here amongst all I am learning from the town and doing with the magazine is fear. Will it be embraced? Will the businesses advertise in it to keep it going? Will my words as an editor be good enough for our town? Fear - present and accounted for. But though these thoughts circle through my head I will not let fear hold me back, I will glance at it and keep moving forward and for this reason I can not fail. This new chapter in my life is bound to bring these doubtful feelings but I shut it down by saying these words -  achievement, ability, strength and most importantly courage, fear can't compete with these fabulous four!

As for the singing, I am preparing to enter into the joyful world again soon, I may even be brave enough to give you a sneak peek. Until then...

FEEL THE FEAR, EMBRACE YOUR COURAGE, LIVE THE DREAM...

I am...and it feels great!

Hales xxx

Is your brain like mine???

I could only imagine what people would think of me if they knew even half of the daily thoughts that slip in and out of my head. I am constantly running on overload. I know it, but am beginning to believe it is hard wired in me rather than being a choice I make.

I am sure that I have unrealistic targets and in doing so set myself up for failure. I set my alarm earlier then I need to, hit snooze every single time and then get annoyed at myself for not being able to squeeze in a morning walk. I plan to spend the late night putting into action my big ideas and then fall asleep watching NCIS with pencil in hand waking to find another blank page in front of me. I list the things that I need to do each day only to realise that my list is bigger then the 24 hours I have been given. STREUTH!!!! How do I achieve all the things that are making my brain bulge?

A good friend made the very simple suggestion of just saying no to the multitude of tasks I take on. More often than not yes seems to blurt out before I even have a chance to think. I have always been the type of person to put up my hand when help is needed for the pure fact that I actually enjoy it. I'll whinge and whine and stress about trying to do more than family, work and house which is a huge challenge in itself, but I can't help feel a real sense of achievement when I have given to the community in some way. I have always said that giving in itself is giving to yourself, for the feeling of it far outweighs any other negative emotion.

I have this need to strive for perfection. To be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, perfect daughter, employee, friend, committee member. To have the perfect house, the perfect life and find the perfect niche that is waiting for me. There is only one problem with this perfect plan... I am not perfect and my guess is your reading this and feel the same way too.

It's not that we don't try ridiculously hard or that we don't give it our absolute all, it's the pure simple fact that if you have so many things on your plate it is impossible to be 100% fantastic at all of them and that is okay!! I relish in striving, trying, challenging myself and grabbing the huge bundle of life offerings that fly past me. There is so much the world has to offer us if only we would open our eyes to see it and our hands to take hold. 

The challenge? Accepting me for me. Not the imaginary belief of who I should be in my head because she is impossible, and I would suggest so perfect she boarders on obsessive compulsive! It's okay to set goals to better myself as long as they are realistic and achievable.

So what I would like to know is - is your brain like mine? Do you spend more time imagining the perfect person you think you should be rather than just being the perfectly imperfect person that you are?

Hayley xxx 

Monday crush

Okay so I have some odd loves...but I proudly admit that I am addicted to paper and all that it can create. Working for a printery means I feel and lust textured papers on a daily basis. above all that paper has to offer, I find that nothing is more treasured than a hand written letter mailed in the post to friends and family.

I love paper for it's simple purpose, decorative nature and wonderful crafty DIY's. Most paper projects will take patience and a little time but well worth it in the long run!

Here are just handful of the wonderful paper crafts that some amazing artists make as well as links for the easy DIY's

Bet you get addicted just like me!

Tutorial on Kusudama flowers. Click here.

Farzier & Wing mobiles

Yulia Brodskaya - view more here

Paper Mache birds

DIY Paper Banner craft

A gorgeous new use for those old magazines. Made by Urban Outfitters.

Way out west.

A station out at Cunnamulla

I had always dreamed of going out west and having a good 12 month adventure. After I left school and several options failed to really entice me, I noticed in the local paper an ad for governesses to apply for positions on property stations. Wow what an experience that would be! Young, impressionable and definitely naive meant that I thought of all the positives of life in the wild west and none of the negatives.  My days would be filled with riding horses, teaching some gorgeous kiddies and adding to my great circle of friends with some real fair dinkum country bumpkins. I thought I would look mighty fine in a pair of RM William jeans and hat with a cute little flanny.  I can just see me drinking a cold Tooheys New as I sit on the old barbed fence watching a glorious sunset. Ahhhhh yep that's a life...that is the adventure for me.

It took only a week for me to be accepted to governess on a property near Cunnamulla, a 40,000 acre sheep station. 40,000 acres!!!! - It was a 30 minute drive to reach their back fence!

Before I quit my job Mum offered to drive me out and check I was really happy with it all. Now that I look back on it, it was Mum that was checking...not me.We did it in 3 days. 9 hours there, a day looking around and meeting the kids, than 9 hours back. I didn't absorb it at all. My mind was made up, I was heading out west.

At the end of January in 2000 I packed up the Commodore kissed my Mum and Dad goodbye and started the journey to my new home, 9 hours from anyone I had ever known, leaving for the first time the safety of my parents nest. I loved the trip out there immensely. Driving with windows down, summer breeze flowing through my hair, snacking on some cooked chicken Mum had packed while belting out the vocals song after song. I was free, untamed and open to all that lay in front of me. It went from gorgeous Great Dividing Ranges to a flat, red, arid horizon that had a charm that sucked you in.

Finally I made it, greeted the family and unpacked my belongings.

The quarters I was staying at was not like your 5 star hotel...actually I'm not sure you would rate it a one star. When I walked in I cut my foot on a nail that was sticking up from the rough unsanded timber floor with gaps so big I could see the shingleback lizards sitting below. I grabbed a hammer and started nailing and nailing and nailing. As I assessed my new home I noticed a few things that I hadn't noticed in the first trip. There was no windows just screens with big rips in them, no outlet for a tv or phone, no hot water, no lockable door. Okay so it was a bit different, but we rough it in the country right? It's part of the experience?

Remember the positive, naive person I was talking to you about? Well she crumbles pretty damn quickly.


The days routine was always the same, waking up covered in bugs and spiders, school of air and teaching in the morning, preparation for the next days class, meals at the main house and cleaning. Everyday the same 5 faces, every day the list of chores for me to do grew and every day I was there the more frequently the kids would call me Mum. At 19 I was a mother of 3 kids looking after a house and a husband.

If I was older and stronger I could have handled the situation but I was neither. As a very social person the isolation was very confronting. I didn't have anyone to talk to as the Dad was busy on the farm and the mother was busy meeting friends and going in to town. I had no day to day knowledge of the outside world. The change was too dramatic for me and I found it very hard to cope. Every meal was lamb or mutton, I got to a point where I never wanted to eat lamb again! As for the cleaning which they had told me wasn't part of the job, I had to clean their toilets, wash and fold and put away all their clothes, clean, dress and feed three kids and even scrub the ceiling with a toothbrush.

One day I was taking washing off the line and the mother came and joined me. She offered some words of wisdom "You know Hayley so many governesses come out here looking for a husband. They look for someone with a nice big broad brimmed hat and think he is rich and has a good property and steal them away from their wives. It's not going to happen here Hayley" WHAT!!!!!! I was 19! What would possess her to think that?? She turned very quickly on me after this asking me to do more and more ridiculous tasks and spitting one word replies to questions. What had I done for her to turn on me?

I can't explain how life changing going out west was. I would have come home days after arriving but I was stubborn and felt like I had to prove to everyone and myself that I could do it. My view of the world and people unfortunately changed out there. I changed. I was not eating, I was sad and most of all I was alone. Until you are isolated and cut off from everything you know and love, its hard to understand how much that impacts on you emotionally and physically.

Finally after realising the dream was becoming a nightmare I mustered up the courage to say I was leaving. I was there for 90 short days...3 months and I was leaving a very broken person. A few days later the wife, the lady that gave me the job, the one I had connected with over the phone asked me to leave that afternoon. Nobody travels in the late afternoon out west. It is too dangerous with the amount of kangaroos and emus running about. But I left, I traveled to a motel in St George a 2-3 hour drive, I ordered chinese at the local takeaway and cried as I ate it from pure joy that it wasn't lamb. Unable to sleep I left at 3am in the morning. It was a long and dangerous drive home. I was so tired but I did not stop driving, I was hallucinating, seeing things jump in front of me, swerving to avoid them and I increasingly found it hard to keep my eyes open. To this day I know how stupid that was and I would never in my life drive like that again.

When I finally got home my Dad ran to the car hugged me and cried. I left a very fit happy go lucky girl and came back 8 kilos lighter, week and frail. I slept all that day til the next morning and I woke to find everything back in it's rightful place. I was home.

It took me a good year to cry after Cunnamulla. I became one hard nut to crack. I would love to go out west again and visit but to live...it's not for me. I think the people out there are amazing. Strong and tough they endure the hardships and isolation easily. I learnt a lot about myself. I learnt to weigh up the good and the bad before making a decision and I learnt to appreciate the gorgeous Northern Rivers and friends and family that surround me.

It was a harsh lesson, but she taught me. She made me grow up, I don't really like her for it but we all have this lesson at some point.

Dinner plate date!

After years and years of the same dinner set its numbers have slowly dwindled and I am now on the hunt for something new. I must admit the choice is hard, after browsing the internet I found the choices below that caught my eye.

Denby Azure 16pc Dinner Set $599

 Gordon Ramsay by Royal Doulton $175.00

Handmade Red Dinnerware 6 plates $160.00

They are nice right? Modern, stylish, sleek? But just not quite me. I looked further searching google images under "plates" and came up with some wonderful finds. I realised what really caught my eye were the mixed and matched vintage style plates that were cleverly put together to form their own creative set. I will need to choose a colour base to begin with and then build on the set with pieces that seem to belong. So now the true hunt begins, scouring my local op shops and garage sales for hopefully something that looks close to as gorgeous as the pics below!!!

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From a newly found blog I love Elegant Economies

Can't wait to show you some of my finds. Happy thrifting x

A Passion

When I was a little girl of 3 or 4 years old, all I did was dream of dancing. I would spend hours each day flitting around the back yard imagining myself up on stage performing, certain one day I would be a star.

When I was 5 my dream felt like it was coming true when my mother took me to our local dance academy. I can't remember those first few lessons but I can imagine you couldn't wipe the smile off my face! As the years went by it became the constant thing in my life. I was doing ballet, jazz, character and my true love tap. Dancing was becoming a part of me not just a thing I did. I would tap as I talked to friends, arabesque just because I felt like it and pirouette with pure joy.

Dance was the greatest outlet I have ever had. When I was mad I would put on my music at home and tap until my legs would shake and my heart would beat out of my chest. When I felt love and joy I would do ballet with a beautiful big skirt, bedroom lamp behind me, watching as the shadow I cast danced across the wall.

It answered every need I had. It was my passion

Gene Kelly was my idol. His dancing was effortless, smooth and unique. I would spend hours learning the dances from Singing in the Rain, Take Me Out to the Ball Game &  New York New York. While everyone else was recording the top hits on the radio I was listening to jazz and cabaret music.

When I completed Year 12 I also finished up at the dance academy. 14 years ago was the last time I truly danced, and yet for 14 years I have still felt the hole within my heart, my passion.

I yearn to dance again, feel that joy, the physical fitness, to have the ability to move in any way I felt my body should when the music is beating through me.

I wish I had tried harder, I wish I had chased my dream, I wish I had found a way to keep dancing.

When my daughter started dancing it took me right back to those joyful days but she was a very nervous shy little thing back then and was always worried that everyone was looking at her, something that I thrived on as a kid. I feel like I was born with all the confidence in the world and slowly it has diminished. Erika was born with none and, to my delight, it is slowly building. Erika did ballet for 12 short months before she decided that it wasn't for her. I was gutted but understood that it was her choice.

What I have come to realise is that it wasn't about Erika doing ballet, it was about her having the chance to feel what I did, to find her true passion what ever that might be. Every child deserves to have that.

So now I wait patiently as they begin to explore their options hoping that they find their one true love.

I know after all this time I will never lose this feeling I have for dance and I am so thankful for everything it has given me. Nothing will ever compare to this feeling, this love...for dance.

Find your passion!

Monday crush....

is teal! It has a sweet feminine feel and is strong yet dainty at the same time. Teal against a deep grainy timber just oozes warmth and style. My top 10 gorgeous teal images are below with a hint of country charm. What colours are you loving at the moment?

I have a love for buttons. Coming close to drowning in brown buttons, I found a hibiscus print I liked on google images, printed it out and traced it on to this canvas I painted in a teal colour. I then started to arrange the buttons so they were snug on the canvas and glued each one on. This was the very first one I tried but have now completed many since then.