Microblog Mondays: The Birds and No Bees

Despite our rental property having only paved outdoor space, I attempted a garden of sorts this spring.  

I had to leave all my plant containers in the UK (international pest control) and didn't want to spend a lot of money on containers given we plan to buy a property with a decent yard (not that we've found one we can afford in amongst all the infill housing and developer demand for 'luxury apartment' opportunities in Melbourne).

I'd seen patio gardens online where the containers were those re-useable polypropylene shopping bags. They are robust, water permeable, do not rot and ubiquitous in Australia. When I mentioned to a friend I was thinking of planting in them, she implored me to take a bag full off her hands. "They breed in my cupboards," she said.

I now have a mix of healthy plants-in-bags in our wee courtyard. 

My tomatoes are fruiting wonderfully, but my cucumbers are not being pollinated as there are no bees.  The birds on the other hand... so far every one of the tomatoes on each of my three plants has been devoured by birds before ripening.

I am somewhat shocked that I was more successful growing veg in soggy London than in such favourable conditions in Australia.

And it turns out the bags, which make such convenient containers in the UK, break down under the intensity of the Australian sun.

Microblog Mondays: Family resemblances

I look like my father. While I have my mothers facial shape, I have my fathers features and colouring.

Pickle is the spitting image of me, but with Mr Duncan's darker colouring.  I have black and white pictures of myself as a baby that could easily be mistaken for Pickle now.

When my mother was in the emergency room, hooked up to 5 drips and a heart machine, she kept arching back and craning her neck to try and read the monitor behind her (she used to be a nurse).

There was something about that movement.  In her determination to see.  In the curve of her neck, the set of her jaw... her vulnerability...  I saw my baby daughter.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Insidious thoughts

Over the years of trying to get pregnant and my two losses I sometimes had insidious thoughts, especially during the throes of disappointment after another fruitless two week wait.  

Or over the weeks months of hopelessness and futility following a miscarriage.
The thoughts undermined my confidence, my positivity, my hope:

• I shouldn't have thought/eaten/drank/worked so hard/flown/exercised/waited so long/done...

• I don't deserve to be a mother

• I shouldn't have invested so much time in work/travel/that relationship

• I should have married that wrong-for-me boyfriend when I was younger.  We'd be divorced now, but at least we could have had a family before it was too late

• I must have done something wrong... to displease the universe/in a past life

• Babies don't want me to be their mother

• I'm being punished for... any number of things I feel guilty about

• Maybe I'm just not the mothering type... 

• If only I had/hadn't...

I have always held a job with a lot of mental stimulation, responsibility, long hours and stressful deadlines.  Looking after and breastfeeding a baby is probably the most physically demanding and socially isolated work I've ever done.  It is non-stop though doesn't keep my mind particularly occupied.

I know I am lucky to have a baby, and such a contented one.  After five months of interrupted sleep and a few hard weeks with Pickle feeling her teeth coming through, I am tired and find my mind churning:

• I'm no good at this, it comes to real mothers naturally

• No wonder it was so hard to get pregnant, I'm not cut out to be a mother

• I love my baby but I'm not all in love and mushy like, the other mothers.  Maybe there is something wrong with me

• A real mother would...

I recognise these thoughts as products of my tiredness but they feel so very familiar.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.
x

Microblog Mondays

This is my hundredth post.

I wanted my hundredth post to be something substantial.

Meaningful even.  

But I haven't completed any of the half dozen or so drafts I've made over the past two months.

Pickle is still learning to overcome the 40 minute nap.  I don't seem to have learned to blog in that amount of time.  I thought I'd better get back on the horse before I forgot how to ride.

I remember reading someone recommending (probably Mel) not starting a new draft until you complete and publish your existing one.  

I'd better start taking that advice.

In the meantime, thank goodness for Microblog Mondays.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.