The time I fell off Kealey's shed

There are things a fashion blogger will do in order to get the right shot. Like fall off the roof of a shed into a vegie patch, then climb back up in order to "get the shot".

Random shit that I left behind to get the shot:

my skin...

Shit happens, carry on

Back on solid ground

My hero :)

And now for some shots of the delightful Doris who pretty much fulfilled what I was hoping to achieve; I now realise that it'd mean not wearing high heels ;)

Many thanks to the awesome-face Kealey for helping me get my desired shots and not photographing me while I was splayed in her veggie patch!

The moral of this random shit is to make sure that your tetanus shots are up-to-date... and if you're going to fall into a veggie patch; take care to avoid the pumpkins ;)

Family story

This month I took part in #b03, Steve Hopkin's challenge to share a blog post every day for the month of March. I have another blog that was already running six days a week and I felt that I was cheating somehow by only needing to do one more post. So I set myself the challenge here to jot down a family story every day.

Over the years, Mum and Dad have shared various anecdotes with me of which I shared 16 during this month. At one stage I sat down and wrote down 20 with the idea to locate the old family photos to tie off the month with these nostalgic images.

However as I went along, I wondered whether I'd recalled the stories correctly so have jotted them down so that I can check the factual accuracy with my parents.

My plan is to complete writing down the stories, I haven't figured out whether that'll be here or simply in the book I plan to create to gift to my Mum for her upcoming birthday.

I attended Trampoline Day today where Niki held a session on the Stories and their Wisdom. She talked about how traditional stories that were passed down from generation to generation usually had a truth in them that was important to the culture. This caused me to reflect on my family story project. In writing about my resilient and entrepreunerial great-grandmother, I know that I've found a source of strength. In writing about my parents and how they really didn't have any other choice but to migrate to Australia, I now have a better understanding of why my parents decided to uproot us and move us to South Korea in the 90s. Dad always said that it's because he wanted us to be adaptable, just in case. I get that now.

I hope that one day I have the guts to make the jumps that my great-grandmother made, that my parents made for my brother and I.

As an auditor, I'm constantly advising organisations to document their procedures to mitigate against the risk of knowledge loss in the event of staff turnover. Now, I'm going to start recommending that everyone documents their family story too!

Read all family stories. Read all of my #b03 posts (not always family-story-related!).

Story 16: Leader of the pack

 

What my father told me:

I was class captain every year that I was in school and school captain in my final year. When we learned English we thought that it was strange how much emphasis was placed on learning to talk about the weather: in Indonesia it’s always hot and humid!

I arrived in Sydney with two of my other friends. Quickly we learnt that Australian weather changes a lot! We were frugal and picked up jobs as day labourers. After paying rent, the only thing that we could afford was a fresh loaf of bread and a jar of IXL jam. We devoured the lot everyday.

My two friends didn’t think that the struggle was worth it, went back home and went onto become very rich businessmen.

I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for #b03, click here to catch up on the stories I've shared so far. 

random story

Story 15: Driver

What my mother told me:

I had a driver whose job it was to drive me. He would take me to wherever I wanted and drop me off. If I’d forgotten to leave him a tip for him to buy his lunch, he’d have a long face when I came back. He taught me how to ride a bicycle in the driveway of your great-grandmother’s factory.

He taught one of your aunties how to drive a car. On her first day she crashed and killed a goat. The farmer was so angry and made her buy the goat. So the servants were very happy because they got to have the goat for dinner.

I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for #b03, click here to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.

Story 14: my friend

What my mother told me:

I was the youngest. Your uncle was my closest sibling but he was 4 years older which is still a big gap and he was a boy. I had a little maid who was about the same age as me and we were very close. We played together and every night she would sleep in my room but on the floor. I hated that there was a difference between us. I always asked her to come and sleep with me in my bed but she never would saying, “no no, Miss I’m too dirty.”

When it was decided that I was moving to Australia, we cried lots but I promised her that I’d come back for her and bring her to Australia where we would grow up, have our own children and always be friends.  

One day she was walking down the street carrying a jar of oil, she tripped and fell forward. The glass jar broke and she cut herself badly. They got her to hospital but you can't get any treatment unless you pay upfront. The servants didn’t have any money to pay for a blood transfusion so she died.

I came home to Indonesia for the holidays and couldn’t find my friend. When they told me what had happened, I couldn’t cry. I sat, staring out of the window, silent. There’s this bird that makes a wailing sound. It wailed and it wailed all day and the servants kept saying, “that’s your little maid, Miss – she’s crying to say that she’s sorry she’s not here.”

I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for #b03, click here to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.

Story 13: Snack foods

What my mother told me:


In Indonesia the land is very fertile and there is food literally growing everywhere. One of my favourites was the tallow plant which grew along the road near our house. My little maid and I would go for a walk then when I saw that the tallow plant was ready, we’d grab a few of the plants and run all the way home. The farmers (or people were cultivating the crops and were waiting for the plants to be ready to sell at the market would see and chase us home but we were so quick! The farmers would then knock on our doors ask)ing to be paid for what we’d stolen. The other servants would get upset with me, “Miss! You are making people angry! Why don’t you just ask us to buy this for you at the market?”



I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for #b03, click here to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.