Garbagaphobia

Those of you that have known me for a long time will know about one very strange phobia I have. Maybe you would classify it as a phobia, maybe its just an aversion of sorts. In any case, I thought I had it sorted when I married Al, but it has reared its ugly head again.

I spent 15 minutes Googling this topic to try and find out if it had a scientific name but didn't manage to come up with anything official. For lack of a better work I am going to call it simply; garbagaphobia, AKA fear of garbage.

Since I now spend every second week in Gove there are certain things that I have to do for myself (99.9% of these things I am more than capable of doing) and one of those is taking out the garbage. Now seeing as I eat at the mess every day I don't produce a lot of garbage in my room but when I leave on a Friday I still need to put out the garbage that is there otherwise it sits there over the weekend until my room is cleaned on a Monday.

Now those of you laughing, wait for it.....it gets worse. I will not under any circumstances take out the garbage at home, that is Al's job. In exchange I do all the ironing. During our marriage this has never been an issue (until now obviously) but prior to Al moving in it was a different story, just ask my sister.

Before I lived with my sister for about 18 months - and she took out the garbage the whole time - I lived by myself. Every second weekend Ast would come to visit AND during that visit I would con her into taking out the garbage for me.

I have no idea what started this garbagaphobia, nor can I pinpoint exactly when it became an issue. I certainly remember taking out the garbage when I lived at home and don't remember freaking out about it. Nevertheless, I am freaking out now!

So there you have it, mock me if you will but I, like all of God's creation, have imperfections. Once of which is my aversion to garbage. Let's not get started on the others, that's enough for one night.

If only I could get married again....

Just for the wedding, don't panic! Al and I are still going strong. I love weddings, that's all. One of the bridesmaids and one of the groomsmen from our wedding had their special day on the weekend and it reminded me how special weddings are and how much fun it is for everyone involved. Following my parents divorce I wasn't too keen on the idea of marriage, however I can safely say that over the years my views on this institution have changed somewhat and I wouldn't have it any other way! I still find it amusing when people call me 'Mrs' - I think they are referring to my mother-in-law. But I love it when Al refers to my as his wife (as long as its not followed with 'the ball and chain!')

I was fortunate enough to be asked to sing at this wedding on the weekend and I tell you, its a lot of pressure. This is their wedding day, the most important day of their lives thus far and proabably to come and I am responsible for creating the atmosphere of the whole ceremony. Okay so maybe I'm making too much of my role here, but I want to do my bit to make their day the most special of their lives!

Well, in case you were wondering, everything went magically and a wonderful day was had by all, including the bride and groom who are probably on their honeymoon in Thailand as I write this.

To the new Mr and Mrs Lees - enjoy this special time in your lives and all the adventures ahead.

Mo goes bollywood

And now for some guest blogging from my Mum who is India at the moment......

As we came over to land in Imphal, flew over mountain ranges & hills with large bald patches where logging had stripped all vegetation. Frequently these parts of the hillsides had then collapsed in a landslide. Immigration officials were courteous & friendly & already knew my name.

Taken for lunch in a house belonging to some relative of Tao’s, smiley, friendly ladies who cooked a delicious meal reminding me of food I had eaten in Cambodia more than Indian food (no curry involved here...Praise God!)The water tasted strongly of mud and I drank little of it.

Drove up through the valley (2hrs though only 75km) on atrocious road but through interesting scenery...almost alpine mountains but fallow rice paddies lining every niche of the valley floor. Later, I learned that we left early in the afternoon to avoid passing through the section ruled by bandits & rebels too late in the day.

Senapati reminds me of a largish West African town (Azove) sunken into a valley floor with 2 huge mountain ranges on either side. The ‘main’ street is dirt but lined closely with shops (that were all open by 5.30am!)Reached ‘the best hotel in town’, indeed there could be a lot worse & met on the first floor verandah with other men from Senapati who are interested in starting a drug rehab initiative in this town; one is a local shop-keeper, two had already lost brothers from heroin overdoses and a retired headmaster of a local high school.

They are all university educated men (2 COTR graduates) who speak good English but none really have an understanding of addiction and recovery. Our discussions are wide-ranging from politics to governance to the situation of the extremely poor roads in northern Manipur. As we talk into the evening a crowd of drunken youths assembles below us on the street, shouting & brawling. Our task is laid out right in front of our eyes.

These are the people who are blamed for the degeneration of their highly prized tribal society; those who are causing incredible hardship amongst the women and children. Next to the brawling drunkards is a group of pre-teen boys playing & laughing happily. I tell the men that our task is to figure out how such happy, care-free children become addicted teens and young adults. What goes wrong?

More from 'Mo-pant's' adventures in India to come.....

Ta dah! I graduated!

Finally after 6 years of correspondence study and working full-time I put on that ridiculous cap and gown and received a piece of paper. That 'piece of paper' now qualifies me as a tertiary educated employee and no longer will my CV be looked down upon for my lack of education (despite my years of experience).

So zippity do dah its over. And now onto my masters (as so artfully put by my Aunt who is completing her doctorate!)

It was a great day in freezing cold Armidale (about 2 degrees when I left for the ceremony at 8:30am). Al and Dad made a concerted effort to be there which I greatly appreciated and sat on the cold seats for hours whilst they read out hundreds of other names. When they finally read out my name Dad had convinced the lady sitting next to him to whistle. It wasn't a standing ovation (like some others received) but it was great nonetheless.

After the ceremony Al and I headed back to the BrisVegas with a stop at a few wineries along the way. We couldn't pass up the opportunity as we drove through the Granite Belt wine region (ie Stanthorpe!).

So where to from here.....onwards and upwards I guess but thankfully, for now, I have my personal life back and can enjoy some of the other possibilities that life has to offer

For the girl that has everything

Who says you can't work in the mining industry and be a fashion icon?

Now I finally have a reason to buy a new pair of shoes. Knee high steel caps, now who'd have thought? All I need now is for them to approve a chemical resistant, hard-yakka skirt and I'm all set.

That's me, setting fashion trends in the mining industry!