for V

is for Vicky.

My besty... 

There feels something so high school about being in my thirties and saying "she's my best friend"..especially when I am so blessed to have so many wonderfully close friends who mean the world to me.

Vicky and I met when I transferred to St George and we began working together. Teaching, and transferring as much as I tend to do, means that you meet so many people in so many different towns who you become friends with because of the situation you are in and often when you move on some of these friendships dwindle. I am grateful that my friendship with Vicky has stood the test of time and when I saw this picture on Facebook I shared it with her straight away.

 So given that it's been more than 7 years since we met I guess she's stuck with me!

Whenever I have some exciting news to share, need some brutal, no BS advice, need a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen Vicky is always the first person that comes to mind. She's not afraid to tell me to pull my head in or wake up to myself if I need it and I am often amazed at how she just seems to know what I need to hear and when I need to hear it.

I was super super chuffed when she asked me to be her son's Godmother and value the time we get to spend together which, since I now live 4 hours away, is not as regular as I would like it to be.

And it just so happens that I am spending this ANZAC Day long weekend with her and her family!

Linking up this Friday with With Some Grace of course!

for U

is for University.

Twice I have put myself through the pain and torture joy of studying. When I was at High School I wasn't really sure of what I wanted to do but going to University was a given. I am not sure I knew if I had any other option and what that option may have been.

Looking through the University Guide I wasn't sure what to really apply for and I remember doing one of those personality tests where it gives you an idea of what types of careers suit your personality type. I think I always knew I wanted to help people and in Year 10 I did work experience in a hospital thinking a Nurse might be a good career...After the week at the hospital that quickly changed! Not the career for me.

So I started to flick through and thought teaching was another obvious choice, helping people and working with kids! I applied for several teaching degrees and some degrees in Social Work. I was offered a place at University of Southern QLD in Toowoomba to study a Bachelor of Education (Primary)... a 4 year degree. My uni days were not really that eventful. At first I lived on campus but really didn't enjoy it, after 5 years of Boarding School it kind of felt like I was right back there again, so after 6 months I moved off campus and rented a house. Not long into my second year at Uni I met a guy and we started dating and it wasn't long before we moved in together and were together until a couple of months after I finished my first degree, so I didn't really have the whole 'party' uni experience that a lot of people talk about. He was a student so apart from attending lectures and tutes I didn't really get involved in 'uni life'.

I then left Toowoomba when I got the position in Normanton, and then spent the next 6 years or so teaching around Queensland before realising I needed something more, I needed a break from the classroom and at the time I thought stupidly that going back to Uni was going to be the best way to achieve that. So I enrolled in a Masters of Education degree with a major in Guidance and Counselling, it was 8 units that I completed while I worked full-time over a period of 2 and a half years. It was tough going at times but I am not known for my amazing study abilities and think I probably only just scrapped through.

I am thankful though that I had the opportunity to go to University as I know not everyone is that fortunate. I am thankful that my parents encouraged and supported me along the way.

Dad, Mum and I before the ceremony for my Masters Degree

Got the paperwork to prove it!

Linking up with A Parenting Life for Thankful Thursday... What are you thankful for?

for T

is for Townsville.

If you read my N is for Normanton post you would know that that was my first teaching post. I started there in Semester 2 on a contract. I replaced a teacher who had moved to another school to be the Acting Deputy. It wasn't long after I arrived that I was told I would be taking the Year 6 class on camp to Townsville for a week... arghhhh!!!

There I was, barely into my teaching career, barely into my 20s and having to take this group of kids who I barely knew 790km from home!! What. The. Fudge...

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't packing it. The previous teacher had started the process but it was essentially up to me to put the itinerary together, organise everything and somehow remain sane. Wanting to make sure I made a good impression and hope that they did not regret giving me the contract I did not make my apprehension known and luckily I did have support in the organising and the Principal attended the camp as well (side note: kids LOVE school camps but they are secretly a teachers worse nightmare!)

Some of the students had never left Normanton and for most, if they had it was only to Mt Isa, so going all the way to Townsville was a massive experience for a lit of them. I can still remember the excitement in their voices and squeals as we drove into Townsville as they say shops and places in 'real life' that they had only ever seen on the TV. I remember one girl yelling..."Miss...look der Miss" trying to work out what she was pointing at I really had no idea and said "what?? what can you see?"... "Look der Miss, der.." and then she promptly sand the "Bob Jane T-Mart" ad... It was these little moments that made me smile so much for I was the one that was there for this first time experience for so many of them.

Normaton is not far from the beautiful gulf town of Karumba which has some of the best sunset views of the ocean you will ever see. It is such a big tease of a place though as the beach there is gorgeous but of course due to crocodiles you cannot swim in the ocean. So the students were so wary of swimming in Townsville and on the day we went over to Magnetic Island and I had to do some serious coaxing for some of them to get into the water. Some of them got a little overwhelmed and started grabbing hold of me in the water as well for 'safety', but really, they almost drowned me! The lady doing the safety talk to the students on the ferry on our way over to Magnetic Island really needed to chose her words more wisely when she asked the students "when you jump off the ferry which side will you jump off?"...well that sent a shockwave through the group as they looked at me with gasps of, 'why do we have to jump off the boat? what about the crocs?'...I had to convince them that the lady was talking about, if there was an emergency.

We had 2 trips to the Hospital while we were there, the first was when a student was running around the caravan park where we were staying and wasn't paying attention where he was going and 'coathanged' himself on one of the clothesline, falling over and hitting his head. The second was an incident involving 2 girls while we were ice-skating. Again, skating around, not really paying attention and ran into each other, ones head collided with the others chin, there was blood, there was a trip to the hospital... fun times had by all!!

The Rock Pool at Townsville that the kids needed to be convinced was safe to swim!

A day trip to Paluma Rainforest with a swim along the way.

Canoeing over on Magnetic Island

The trip was action packed with activities, visits to the Museums, the Zoo, meeting The Cowboys and The Crocs (Basketball team), and many first-time experiences for many of them. Hopefully it's one that they remember as well.

Linking with Ms Mystery Case for Words on Wednesday (because being Wordless do this A to Z challenge is not really possible!!)

for S

is for Songs.

It sometimes amazes me how hearing a song on the radio can take you back to a time and place. Songs are great memory makers and reminders in that way.... 

Charlie Pride is just one of the singers we listened to in the car growing up on our way to and from the bus stop. Mum loved him, Marty Robins was another favourite that we listened to regularly.

Zombie by the Cranberries always reminds me of my cousin... He used to wander around the house singing this song in his high-pitched pre-puberty voice and crack us all up!

Forever Young always stops me in my tracks, as one of the songs we played at my sisters funeral it will forever take me back to the moment we lost her.

One of my classes LOVED The Climb by Miley Cyrus. Whenever we were doing an art and craft activity the students would ask me to put my music on from my itunes and this song was always requested. They were a year 2/3 classes and the whole lot of them would sing along at the top of their lungs - was so cute! Every time I hear it it reminds me of them.

This song will always remind me of my Contiki Tour through NZ - it was our morning bus song that was played as soon as we got on the bus each morning and anyone that had done anything silly or embarrassing the day/night before had to dance in the aisle...I only had to dance once for reasons that will not be disclosed! ;-)

My tour in Canada with a bus full of Poms introduced me to The Killers! I will always remember those people and that tour whenever I hear a song by them

I could go on and on...so many songs remind me of so many things from my past, some good, some not so good.

What song sends your thoughts hurtling back to a time in the past?

Linking up with Essentially Jess for IBOT!

for R

for Rottweiler.

I was in year 7 and staying in town for the weekend at a friends house. It was a rarity and I was enjoying the time with friends. The fact that we lived so far out of town meant that sleep overs went from Friday afternoon and then we didn't return home until Monday after school.

The people who I was staying with had a large Rottweiler dog as a pet and on the Sunday afternoon we decided to take to the dog for a walk. On the farm there was no such thing as pet dogs, all our dogs were working dogs so I loved the opportunity to play with a dog and asked if I could be the one that would hold the dog as we walked. The girls agreed but told me that due to the dogs strength I should wrap the lead around my hand a couple of times so I didn't let go. Seemed logical.....

That was until some boys from our class road past on their pushbikes and stirred the dog up, at first they just rode around us but then they started throwing little pebbles at the dog and then they took off on their bikes and the dog took off after them, dragging me along with him. As the lead was wrapped around my hand I was pulled over onto the bitumen and both knees opened up with cuts and grazes.

Eventually the dog stopped, I can't recall exactly how long I was dragged but the damage to my knees has been ongoing. I remember sitting in pain and the long walk back to my friend's house for her mother to clean me up and wrap my knees in bandages. I also remember the look of shock on my Mum's face when I hobbled off the bus the next day, bandages and all. 

I had no real medical treatment for the damage to my knees at the time and the following year, when I had gone to boarding school I was made to be more active through sport and athletics. Pain in my knees was, at times excruciating and eventually I went to a doctor and was diagnosed with Knee Effusion (or Water on the Bone) and I had treatment from a Physio for some time but even to this day my knees are weak and often there's a lot of pain when I do certain exercises (or even just on cold mornings although this could also be a sign of old age creeping up on me! lol..)

The scar on my knee that serves as the constant reminder, bit difficult to see but am sure at the time that I should have gotten stitches!

Now I am being a little cheeky and tacking on an I Must Confess post at the end of this blog... Kirsty had given us the prompt...

what does Easter mean to you? 

Do you take your Easter traditional, religious or with extra chocolate?

As soon as I saw this I knew it was what I had to share for this confession....

Also linking this post with One Mother Hen for Open Slather!

for Q

for Quiet Time

Living alone a lot of my time is quiet time but there are 2 hobbies that I have that I partake in during this quiet time. One is cross-stitching, and in particularly making gifts for other people. This is something I confessed during an I Must Confess post on My Home Truths, which you can read here.

The other is Scrapbooking. It's something that I love to do but does take up a lot of time (effort and money) which means I have not done any in a long time (actually I think it's been about 2 years since I dragged it all out!). 

So here are some pics of recent scrapbooking adventures

for P

is for Poppy

Sadly both my Grandfather's passed away some time ago so my memories of them are a bit fuzzy. I called both my Grandfather's "Poppy" when we were younger but as we got older my Paternal Grandfather became Poppa, whilst my Maternal Grandfather remained Poppy.

My Mother's parents lived in Charleville about 8 hours drive from where we lived so we didn't get to visit very often. We would occasionally go out during school holidays and spend time catching up with many of Mum's brothers and sisters. I do remember at one stage they lived near a caravan park which had a little shop in it and we would traipse up with our little purses with change and get as many lollies as we could. 

Growing up my Dad's father lived at the Sunshine Coast and again we would often visit during the school holidays. Given that was physically closer to where we lived we would visit more often. I think he really enjoyed his house being overrun by his granddaughters! I have always grown my fingernails and have had long nails for as long as I can remember and I would often be enlisted by Poppa for a nice long back scratch! He had one of those long back scratching sticks but used to say that it did not compare to me scratching his back, so there I would sit (probably rolling my eyes) scratching his back and waiting for him to give me the ok to stop. 

Poppa with all his children, their partners and grandchildren at a family reunion

Poppa and all his grandchildren

 When Poppa passed away, not long before my 21st birthday, my father and his siblings went to his home to pack up and sort through his belongings. Amongst much paperwork and who knows what else in his desk they found this letter that I had written to him many years earlier.

Obviously I had a deep concern for our pillows we must have left behind!

Given this was how I addressed the envelope I'm surprised it got there!

Linking this A to Z Challenge Post up with With Some Grace for FYBF!!