The Red One

I work in a restaurant. A chain restaurant. With a very large al la carte menu. It's located in the outer western suburbs of Sydney, and while, as a whole, the customers are absolutely lovely (trust me, I've worked in other areas of Sydney), they are not always the smartest. Case in point...

Customer: "I'll have the shiraz."
Me: "Sure, which one?" (there are four shiraz's on the menu).
C: "The red one."

Being Veruca Salt

There are some days where I feel just like Veruca Salt: the girl who wants everything. I want a new car. A husband. Children. A new job. A house near my family. The money to decorate it to my hearts content. An awesome CD, DVD and book collection. Clothes. Shoes.

Different things trigger off this envy. It could be a random comment someone says about going home to clean up after the kids. Or rain leaking into my car. Or a bad night at work where no matter how hard I work, it makes no difference to my pay check. Or nothing in my wardrobe is working for me.

In summary, I want, I want, I want.

But most of all I want not to want. I want to be content with what I have. I want to find joy in my beautiful, simple life. Because really, that's the truth of it. I have all I need. Because my God provides all my needs. And so when I am in this mood of wanting, I have to conscientiously, with effort, remind myself that while I have this long long (ever growing) list of wants, my list of needs is very very short. I have all the family and friends that I need, I have a car that gets me wherever I want to go, I have a job which pays my bills and has blessed me with a great support network, and I have enough food, clothes and entertainment to more than fulfil my needs.

So really, what more could a girl want?

My neck is cold.

I walked into Nanna's for Sunday lunch, wearing my favourite bandana as a scarf.

Skippy asked me, "Aunty gill, what's that?"

"My scarf. Isn't it pretty?"

"Why?" (she's 3 - need I say anything else?)

"Because my neck is cold."

Skippy stops and thinks.

"Aunty gill, my neck is cold."

How could I not share my scarf?

Flatmate Chronicles

The Scene: Flatemate in the kitchen, me in the other room relaxing in front of the TV.





FM: Hey gilly, did you know this plastic cup has a hole in it?


Me: Yup. It serves it's purpose.


FM: OK.


(Sounds of the microwave being used.)


FM: Uh-oh.


Me: What?


FM: Nothing.


(Get up from lounge, go to investigate. FM dearest has used said plastic cup to microwave chocolate sauce. Which is now melted all over the bottom of the microwave.)

kisses

I love how my nephew blows kisses. He holds his hand to his mouth, and gets ready to blow the kiss. He holds his hand there, and lets it build. And then, when he's ready, he lets go. He throws that kiss to you, full of baby exuberance, with a big loud "BAH!"

It's a beautiful moment. A precious thing to receive such a kiss. I wish that I could love like that. Hold nothing back, but let it build, full of assurance that my love will be gratefully received. To love in such abundance that "mwa" is not enough. That every bit of love is sent out not just with a 'mwa' but with a great big "BAH!"

So, dearest, BAH!!