196 Books: Australia

The Road from Coorain by Jill Kerr Conway

Hey. Did anyone notice that I've been putting 169 books when it actually should have been 196? Did you notice that and not tell me? Ruuuude. I mean, did I have it right on any of them? Color me foolish. 
We'll get to the book though. No bullet points this time. 

You should know where Australia is. It's its own continent. But here it is. 

And the obligatory description of the book. 

In a memoir that pierces and delights us, Jill Ker Conway tells the story of her astonishing journey into adulthood—a journey that would ultimately span immense distances and encompass worlds, ideas, and ways of life that seem a century apart.

She was seven before she ever saw another girl child. At eight, still too small to mount her horse unaided, she was galloping miles, alone, across Coorain, her parents' thirty thousand windswept, drought-haunted acres in the Australian outback, doing a "man's job" of helping herd the sheep because World War II had taken away the able-bodied men. She loved (and makes us see and feel) the vast unpeopled landscape, beautiful and hostile, whose uncertain weathers tormented the sheep ranchers with conflicting promises of riches and inescapable disaster. She adored (and makes us know) her large-visioned father and her strong, radiant mother, who had gone willingly with him into a pioneering life of loneliness and bone-breaking toil, who seemed miraculously to succeed in creating a warmly sheltering home in the harsh outback, and who, upon her husband's sudden death when Jill was ten, began to slide—bereft of the partnership of work and love that had so utterly fulfilled her—into depression and dependency.

We see Jill, staggered by the loss of her father, catapulted to what seemed another planet—the suburban Sydney of the 1950s and its crowded, noisy, cliquish school life. Then the heady excitement of the University, but with it a yet more demanding course of lessons—Jill embracing new ideas, new possibilities, while at the same time trying to be mother to her mother and resenting it, escaping into drink, pulling herself back, striking a balance. We see her slowly gaining strength, coming into her own emotionally and intellectually and beginning the joyous love affair that gave wings to her newfound self.

I liked this book. It had a bit of an ebb and flow; some parts I was really excited to read and some were a little meh. But it was really cool to read about life raising sheep and the ups and downs of trying to make a living in the bush. 

There was a point that kind of bothered me. She didn't get a high ranking job because she's a woman and she said she now understood how the natives and Aborigines felt having everything taken from them. I thought that was overstepping just a little bit. 

I kind of wish she'd been able to dig a bit deeper. She wrote quite a bit about the stoicism that's taught growing up in Australia; that combined with her training as a historian made it a little superficial for me. Granted, it was obvious she broke out of that emotional black hole as she got older. 

The best thing I can say about this book is that, though this story worked perfectly for the purpose of my little "project," it left me wanting more. 

The Pit of Despair

Don't even think about trying to escape.

I'm starting off with The Princess Bride to bring some levity to the situation. Because this is not a fun or happy post. And I'm finally writing it after having it etched in my brain every minute. 

I, along with many others, seem to be living in a Pit of Despair. Call me dramatic, call me childish, call me a whiny liberal. 

The world is terrifying to me. I feel I've fallen into this spiral of hate, division, and callous selfishness, and I can't control or get out of it. 

Last week I was glued to the BBC website, refreshing every few minutes to get any new news from the Gambia. Though I knew deep down it was the safest place being confined behind a wall of Marines at the Embassy, I couldn't get rid of my terror for Diplomat Sister. She was quick to reassure me that she was fine and the situation should be handled relatively swiftly, but I read articles and looked at pictures of ground troops, military ships, and fighter planes from ECOWAS countries ready to take action and couldn't help wondering how bad it would get. Why? Because one man, one egomaniac, decided he was above everyone and didn't want to let go of his power. When he finally did leave, it seems he took millions of dollars with him. And that's just one very small country that, in a global sense, is somewhat insignificant. 

What happens when it's a country that's a world power?

I watched the presidential election with growing disbelief. How could this guy even be considered? How could this guy be a viable option? How could this guy make it to one of the two main choices? How could he be elected? 

But, despite the majority of the American public not voting for him, he was elected. (But that's a whole different rant). 

In the time between the days of election and inauguration, Trump seemed to back off on some of the more extreme campaign promises, and I started to become cautiously optimistic. That was quickly dashed as the cabinet picks came out; a roll call of his business pals. It became more and more apparent that things were just as bad, if not worse, than we feared. 

Back in the Gambia, things have gotten better. Their new president is officially in office and country, and the people can celebrate and begin to heal. We, unfortunately, are going the opposite direction. Our "leaders" want to take away women's control over their own bodies, keep out Mexicans, ban Muslims, muzzle science and truth with "alternative facts," take away people's healthcare, pollute the environment, demonize and silence anyone who disagrees with them, and constantly spew vitriol while insisting that they are just good Christians who want the very best for their country. And you have the supporters who claim that the unborn babies need someone to speak up for them, that we need to protect the borders and keep the terrorists out, that they don't want to pay for some lazy waste to have insurance, that we need to take care of our own...while insisting they are just good Christians who want the very best for their country. They don't bother thinking about the consequences of controlling someone else's body, or that what creates terrorists is oppression and desperation, they don't bother researching that the biggest cost to healthcare is the insurance and drug company's CEOs padding their bank accounts. Worst of all, they humbly go to church on Sunday and feel they're doing their duty, they're being good Christians, while ignoring Christ's words...love one another, give to the poor, help those in need, don't judge others. 

I have no idea if Obama is Christian or not...he very well may not be, but in his presidency he acted more like a Christian than 90% of the people who sit in church every Sunday, pray at every meal, and smile at just how blessed they are. 

It's maddening and sickening and I continually go back and forth between wanting to be informed and being absolutely appalled at the information. This is not a country to be proud of. 

But there is a ray of hope in the opposition. The marches, the National Park's rogue social media accounts, the journalists who refuse to give in, the lawyers rushing to help detainees, the organizations working against the hate, the people who refuse to bury their heads in the sand. Soldier even played a podcast for me where some scientists were talking about the transition and they just found clever ways of sneaking around, like giving climate change a different name in their work.

I'm scared, no doubt, but I'm also cautiously hopeful. There are a lot of people fighting. 

In his inaugural speech, Trump said he was listening. He said the people wouldn't be ignored and forgotten. Well, the people are screaming. 

Honeymooning

Paradise.

This time I can tell you that it's taken me a while to post because I've been working! I'm so glad to be out of the house and contributing again. And now I'll try to remember the honeymoon almost 2 months ago. 

Soldier and I didn't take a honeymoon the first time around, so we decided to do it right this time. Two days after the wedding, we were off to an all inclusive in Mexico. Our flight left hella early after a few long days so that was super fun. I think the first flight left at 6 am, which meant we left the house at like 3. Gag. The good news is our flights went fine. We had a layover and breakfast in Dallas where we ran into many other honeymooners. Thankfully Soldier and I didn't have the cliche Mr. and Mrs. or Ball and Chain or Just Married shirts. They made me roll my eyes; I don't think it was because of how tired I was. 

After a few more hours we landed on a beautiful, sunny island. It was pretty easy getting through customs, and we used a site that took care of getting us from the airport to the resort so that was nice. They kept trying to get us to sit through time share or resort presentations and sell us stuff, which was super obnoxious. I just wanted to drop my stuff off, get a drink, and get in the pool. 
Finally we got checked in and to our room and opened our bottle of welcome wine. The best decision we made was to get a swim up room. So after a couple of drinks we waded out to the pool bar from the room. Ah-may-zing. 

A lot of our time there consisted of hanging out on the beach and by the pool. A couple of days in we had scheduled a dive so I could get my certification. For some reason I was really panicked and tossed and turned most of the night from the knots in my stomach. The next morning I had to force myself to choke down breakfast and continued to fret. 
It was pretty much a goner before it started; even jumping in the water i started getting the panicky feeling. I felt like I really wasn't prepared and didn't know what to do. Breathing on the regulator was weird and unnatural. We did see some really cool stuff: a couple of huge lobsters, an octopus, lots of fish, a barracuda or two, and the reef. It was ridiculously beautiful. 

We surfaced and I asked Soldier if he would still love me if I didn't do it again. As amazing as it was, I hated almost every minute of it and just wanted to be back up in the air the whole time. So we cancelled the rest of my dives and Soldier scheduled a couple for the next day. It actually worked out well because he got to do a wreck dive, which probably would have terrified me. So it was a win-win. 

Then it was back to beach and pool and booze. One of the cool things about the all-inclusive was they planned activities in the afternoons; one was archery, the next (when Soldier was diving) was rifle shooting, and our last afternoon was a foam party. I was pretty proud of myself, I wasn't half bad at the archery, and I looked like I knew what I was doing. 
The foam party was super fun, but I have no idea how people do that in clubs. It's sticky and gets everywhere and the saving grace was that we could jump in the pool. But damn it, it was fun! 

Our last day...well most days, we stumbled our way to breakfast and a little hair of the dog. (Soldier wisely says "you can't be drunk and hungover at the same time.") We got out fine but the airport was absolutely bananas. It took for freaking ever. Like somewhere between 2 and 3 hours...I was honestly getting a little concerned we'd miss our flight. And the majority of that time was just checking in; we got through security in a snap. But the flights went fine and my wonderfully caring mama brought me a winter coat that I'd forgotten to ask for. 

We had another couple of days back home which were of course too short. I basically spent the entire time crying because saying goodbye is the WORST. The W.O.R.S.T. 

But, those are the basics. We had a great time, minus a couple of alcohol induced arguments, and I'd be happy to solely have all-inclusive vacations from now on. 

Is it too early to go back now?

Wedding Bells Pt.3

Time to party.

After the family pictures we went to a park with some weeping willows and nice fall-colored trees with the wedding party. All the pictures didn't take nearly as long as I expected so we had time to run to a local brewery for some more pictures and a few drinks. 

I had talked to one of the owners and gotten permission to take some pictures back in the brewing area, which I was pretty excited about. It wasn't a big area so just Soldier and I got to go back, but we got some cool shots. It turned out that we actually had a lot of time, so we all had a couple drinks and some of the guys got a pizza. 

Off to the reception. Our entrance song was Danger Zone because we're fun and silly and it totally didn't take me weeks to decide on that. Just before we made our entrance, Soldier told me to just follow his lead and stick to the right. When we got out there, he spun me around into a high five...it was adorable. We're adorable. Totes adorbs. 
Somehow we got there a little late or they didn't serve dinner on time or something, but we only had the photographer for a limited time so we basically had to do everything at once. 

First we did the toasts while dinner was starting. Rockstar Sister did mine and made me cry. I think about it and cry. She started it by saying she had such a hard time writing it because she realized she had been writing it for the wrong person; she'd started writing it for the little girl she used to dress up and, yup, I'm crying again. Soldier's brother had some nice things to say about how he and Soldier both married their first girlfriend and some other cute stuff. 

We were able to eat for like 5 minutes, then did our first dance. It was Sinatra's The Way You Look Tonight. Then we had our parent dances (at the same time) to a sweet version of You are My Sunshine. My parents used to sing it to us kids when we were mad at them. Then we quickly cut our little cheesecake for the camera, and I wanted to get a couple of pictures outside at the marina. 
Just as we were walking out the door, a friend of Soldier's stopped us. Now, the background on this guy is he's one of the most unreliable people anyone knows. Days before the wedding he still hadn't RSVPed and told us that he just might show up, possibly with his wife and a couple of their kids. Anyway he stopped us and angrily said he had to go pick up his kid. He asked Soldier how long we'd be there, how long we'd be in town, etc, and I was on the verge of telling him we were trying to do stuff, and he ended with "don't have kids till you've had all your adventures." It was one of the most cringeworthy but funny things I've experienced. 

Back inside we had time to shove a couple more bites in our faces before...I dunno. Something happened. People started talking to us or something. Then dancing started and then they brought out the cake. Which I had NONE of because I'm a damn DISGRACE. I'm so disappointed in myself! The rest is pretty much just a blur of dancing and drinking. Although I do remember seeing people eating our tiny cheesecake later on because they're super tacky. 

It was somewhere between 11 and 12 when we left. Some people were going to after party at the in laws, and we considered going but figured we'd probably just get drunk and pass out there. So we went off to the hotel. In the room I realized 2 things: we had a large jacuzzi tub, and I was starving. After actually eating, I had another realization: I forgot the hook to undo all the buttons on my dress. Soldier was really patient and didn't even complain that he had to take care of it. 

I insisted on a bath because the jacuzzi was there, and we had a drink while soaking. 
Oh! I forgot something fun. So one night at my parent's house I went to make a drink and grabbed a bottle of vodka. Turns out it was empty. I started to yell until I saw a button...and it turns out it had a scrolly message on it! So when we got to the reception there was one of those bottles on our little table with a congratulations message on it. It was the coolest! 
So we had a drink with our fancy vodka and passed out immediately after. Not in the tub, don't worry. That may have led to drowning. 

The next morning we stumbled our way downstairs for that crappy hotel breakfast buffet and went to spend some time with our families before we jetting off to sunny Mexico.  

Wedding Bells Pt. 2

I do...again, still, always.

I'd like to blame my lack of posting on a new job or something but, alas, I cannot. Although I have been job searching and making healthy, delicious meals with all my new kitchen toys...and maybe playing some Candy Crush. 

I believe we left off on The Big Day. 

Unsurprisingly, the alarm went off way too freaking early. With a quick shower and base makeup, it was off to the salon. Mom-and Sister-in-Law arrived at the same time I did, and one of my bridesmaids was already there. As a bonus, she brought her son and sister. MIL and SIL brought breakfasty foods and mimosas, so that was nice. 
I had picked out a couple of hairstyles a la Kate Middleton...they looked very similar and I wanted to mush them together into one. What I got was...nothing like what I wanted. It was okay. The real winner was 14 year old niece. When I saw her the aunt in me wanted to tell her to take the makeup off, pull her hair down, and put on some dirty jeans; in reality I almost cried at how gorgeous she looked. But that's skipping ahead.

After the salon I had time to run back to my parent's house and mostly finish up my makeup. I was hoping to do a nice dramatic smoky eye, but it didn't turn out all that dramatic. So, in a nutshell, my look wasn't exactly what I'd hoped. Can't have everything, I guess. 
Just before I needed to leave, my niece and nephew arrived. My brother has recently gone through a lengthy and painful divorce, and he specifically requested that they be able to attend the wedding and a bit of a reception. I haven't said anything about the whole situation because I don't know who's reading my blog and what consequences my thoughts and opinions could have. But here's a fun example of the way things had gone--the kids showed up very excited that grandma did face paint with mama's makeup! It took a small army and many accoutrements, but they were very cute and free of makeup. Crisis averted and no fits thrown (that I know of).  But way to be a horrible person all the time, Mama.

So off we went to church, two of my sisters escorting me. My Phantom of the Wedding was already there getting everything ready. She wanted to show me the floral altar pieces MIL ordered; it was then that I noticed the giant memorial banner. I kind of laughed about it...Happy Wedding, here are all the dead people! It was not there the previous night but...whatever. On with the show. 
My girls continued to show up and look gorgeous and I couldn't have been happier to have them all there with me. At one point the wedding coordinator came in and said she didn't like the memorial banner so, yaaay, it came down and wasn't in all of the pictures. One of the things that cracked me up: the guests were starting to arrive and one of Mike's aunts popped in and asked if she could take some pictures. I was at the mirror, which is on the same plane as the door, finishing up my lipstick. The aunt came in and kind of looked around and went "oh, the bride's not here yet?" And as I was trying to hold back my laughter my Diplomat Sister (DS) deadpanned "she's right there." I honestly don't remember how long she stayed or if she took any pictures. Maybe she was looking for a poofier dress or something. I dunno, it just cracked me up. 

Ok. So lipstick was on, the beautiful veil that my mom made was in place, and we were all ready. While we were just waiting to walk down the aisle, my Rockstar Sister (RS) asked if we should say a prayer before we went. So we all got together and she said simply (along the lines of) "may we all make it down the aisle without tripping, and may Soldier and Laura make it through life without tripping." It was simple and kind of silly, but it was touching. Then my girls left me and my dad came in. Even though we've been married for a year, I almost cried "leaving" my daddy. He even wore the decorative kerchief I'd gotten in him Paris. Even thinking back on it now it's making me tear up. Stupid feelings and junk. 

And then it was time. The door was opened and we started to walk. Everyone was looking at us, at me, but I just kept looking at Soldier. Although I did take a second to wink at my mom. I told Soldier he should cry when I walked down the aisle, but he didn't. He just looked happy...I'll take it. Mass started, and we were about 2 minutes in when I said to myself "dear God why did we pick a full Mass?!" But then SIL did the first reading, Brother did the second reading, and other Brother did the prayers of the faithful; Little Princess was next to me and DS had the ring. I listened to everyone saying the prayers and saw how many people came up for communion, and I was so glad we did a full Mass. It made my heart ridiculously full. 
When we said our vows and put on the rings, I forced myself to look into Soldier's eyes even though I'm quite uncomfortable with direct eye contact for prolonged periods of time. I was trying to take in every moment of it and appreciate all the details of our second wedding. 

And before I knew it, it was over. We had two wonderful weddings with so many wonderful people and holy crap how did I get so lucky?! 

We rushed about to make sure we got all the family pictures and...I think that's a good place to stop. I'll try not to take so long to give you the details of the party. Because you care about that. 
Cheers!

Wedding Bells Pt. 1

I do...again, still, always.

I'm sure you've all been waiting with bated breath to hear about the big wedding. I was very excited to tell you all, but also got caught up in the shit storm that is the US. But we'll just try to put that in the back of our minds for now. 


I left for the Midwest a couple of weeks before Soldier did, and for some reason I had such a hard time leaving him. My flight was in the evening and I moped around all day, tearing up and sniffling way too much. Poor guy, he didn't really know what to do with me. We got to the airport a few minutes early and had a drink, so that helped. 
Overnight flights kind of suck, but this was the best flight I've had in a long time. Everything was on time, my layovers were long enough but not too long, and my luggage even arrived to my destination before I did. Whoa. It was a good sign. 

The couple of weeks before Soldier got there were spent getting all the final details ready for the wedding. Remember those paper flowers I bitched about making? Well MIL put them together and, oh my word, they took my breath away. This one's mine. Ready for the tearjerker part? If you zoom in or look closely you can see some grass, silver ribbon, and pearl pins...those are from the bouquet my siblings sent me last year. I'm pretty sure I choked up every time I told one of them about it. 

We were also able to get in to decorate the reception space a week in advance, which was awesooome. There were a couple of last minute additions for my Phantom of the Wedding to set up, but otherwise it was done and forgotten for the wedding week. 

Soldier got in on...Monday I think. His flights did not go as well as mine: one flight was delayed and his luggage inexplicably didn't make it with him. Luckily it arrived that night. Having gotten most everything finished, we spent most of our time hanging out with our families and friends. 
We had our respective parties that Thursday. The boys went up to his family's lake house to shoot guns, get drunk, and wrestle in the driveway (in that order). 
For mine, one of my sisters planned a really nice evening of drinks and dinner. It was small and classy; she went as far as to have a menu ready and waiting at a fantastic tapas restaurant. She also had some fun questions for guests to answer about Soldier and I. It wasn't a late night and it was lovely. 

Next day we had the rehearsal. There was, of course, a little bridesmaid drama which I guess started the day before, but what would a wedding be without one of the bridesmaids deciding it's all about her? The rehearsal went well, and I got to wear my fancy party dress. 
One thing that was really important to me was making sure each of my siblings (plus my niece) had a special task. My brothers did readings, one sister carried Soldier's ring, another signed the paperwork, and the third made the toast. 

Last summer, my Little Princess (niece) and I were sitting outside and I was telling her how things were working out with Soldier, and that we planned to get married. She asked if she would get to be involved and said that she was too old to be a flower girl and didn't really want to be a junior bridesmaid (she was 13). I assured her that she would be a regular bridesmaid. She said she was probably too young to be maid of honor, and I agreed. Since we didn't have a best man and maid of honor, I decided her task would be to stand next to me during the ceremony, but I wanted to surprise her. I'm not sure she really understood until my mom spelled it out for her at the rehearsal, but I was really glad to have her by my side the whole time. She's such a cool kid.

After the rehearsal we opted to just have a party at my parent's house instead of a traditional rehearsal dinner at a restaurant. We did have it catered, but I think it was cheaper and I know it was more fun. Plus there were just a lot of people. 
Everything went well and was fun, and it was so good to have the family together. We haven't had all 6 kids in the same place in years. It again wasn't too late of a night, but you know I didn't get that much sleep. 

Next up: wedding day!

The state of the country

We have failed. 

Like many others, I woke up on Wednesday to see the results of the American presidential election. And like many others, I was shocked, confused, and dismayed. There have been so many cries of outrage, protests, riots, and hatred...and it's only been a day.

And, of course, the blame. Conservatives, liberals, the electoral college, third party voters, etc etc etc.
So whose fault is it really? Everyone's.
For not being open minded about political issues and really listening to why someone supports one candidate. For being short sighted and ego-centric. For not acknowledging that a personal belief might not be the best or only option for millions of people.  For not thinking about our families, friends, neighbors when thinking about the future of our country. For not looking at history.

And who will lose out? Everyone.
Ok, I'm not one of those "he's not my president" people  because, whether I support him or not, he is.  So I looked at his 100 day plan, and things only got worse.  (Although I will give credit that he wants to put term limits on congress, which is woefully needed.)
But, judging by his plan, Trump would like to turn America into an isolationist, militaristic country. Close the borders...build the wall...get rid of Muslims...take away reproductive rights...cancel universal healthcare (okay, I know a lot of people aren't happy with healthcare right now, but it has also given a lot of people the chance to have it)...ignore climate change...stop trying to take care of the environment...more tax breaks for corporations. Overall, just take care of the rich white man.

I'll step aside from the doom and gloom for a moment; Soldier reminded me this morning that somebody like Trump doesn't get where he is without listening to advisors and boards and specialists. Though those people would likely be more rich white men, it would give me some hope to have others there that have a clue what they're doing.


Soldier and I are currently on our honeymoon in Mexico. I wondered how people would treat us when we went out on Wednesday. I hoped that they wouldn't assume we fed into the hatred and bigotry. Of course we're staying at a resort so they're all very professional but I still have to wonder.

I truly hope the next four years go well. I hope the end of President Obama's time isn't overshadowed and that some of the progress he's worked so hard for remains.

I know that some people won't agree with this post. I do try not to get too political, but I feel very strongly about this. If we are the Christian nation that so many claim, I hope we can call on the teachings of Jesus to love and care for one another.

Even if you're not Christian, I hope you'll all join me to go forth and not be an asshole.