A Scenic Tip Down Under

Kimbriki Tip, Sydney


Sydney

Among the definitions for ‘tip’ is one I’ve only seen used in Australia: ‘a place where rubbish etc. is tipped’, as per my Australian Modern Oxford Dictionary.

In my mother’s New Jersey town, she had to take recycling to a local center and wait for monthly curbside pickups to get rid of larger stuff. My Connecticut home town has a local dump, which residents can use any time.

In our continuing quest to rationalise and reduce the amount of stuff in our lives, which I wrote about in Stuff, Writing, and the Holidays, Clive has introduced me to an amazing new place right here in Sydney.

Can you guess what it is? It’s not a romantic picnic spot overlooking Sydney Harbour or a walking path along the Northern Beaches, though he’s taken me to those places, too. Currently our regular destination is only ten minutes away from where we live: the Kimbriki Tip.

Dirt road in Kimbriki Tip, Sydney


 I’ve asked friends and neighbours about the meaning of the word ‘Kimbriki’. No-one knows but everyone says it sounds Aboriginal. A Google search yielded little in the way of word origins; the closest I could find was a government geoscience reference to Kimbriki formation, sandstone used in Kimbriki limestone. Whatever the possible meanings of the word, to me it lends an aura of other-worldliness to going to the tip. And that’s before we even get there.

A Strange, Scenic Place

Australia makes it easy to recycle with weekly kerbside pickups of paper, cans, and bottles. Numerous charity shops take clothing, books, and other stuff year-round. Twice a year, the local council has a kerbside pick-up for larger stuff.

So until last week I’d never been to a tip in Australia. When we realised we had too much shredding and stuff to store until next month’s pick-up, we decided to take some stuff to the tip ourselves.

There may be other tips like Kimbriki, but I was amazed firstly at how massive it is and then how strange it felt to drive around inside it, knowing giant landfill pits surrounded us. It seems surreal that a place so beautiful is full of junk and stuff. We’ve learned Kimbriki is slated to become parkland in the not too distant future.

I remember watching the TV show Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood with my son years ago, when the puppets did a skit about taking garbage from one town to another. ‘Our dump is full,’ said the first puppet. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the second, ‘but our dump is full, too.’ Mr. Rogers then talked about the importance of recycling.

We’re Going to the Tip – Hooray!

Clive and I are doing our best to recycle everything, but we still have another carload of stuff for the tip. As far as clearing clutter, it feels heavenly to know we’re making progress. Hooray, we’re going to the tip! I really must get a life.

I’m thankful Kimbriki is available to us for now, and look forward to the day it becomes a park, surrounded by the beautiful Australian bush.

Kimbriki Tip, Sydney

A New Year Begins

Fireworks over Manly Cove, Sydney

Sydney

It’s high summer in Sydney, with kids off school and families on holidays, while in the northern hemisphere everyone is back to work.

Life has a way of being unpredictable at the best of times. My son’s planned visit Down Under had a last-minute showstopper (which happens when one is in the working world) so I was especially thankful we shared Thanksgiving in the U.S. last November.

After a wonderful Christmas and Boxing Day with Clive’s children and adorable grandsons, we decided to have a quiet New Year’s Eve at home with a cheese platter and a bottle of champagne, watching the Manly fireworks from our balcony.

As with the main Sydney Harbour fireworks, which get worldwide coverage, there are many local shows at 9pm for families who don’t want to keep the children up too late or brave the crowds in the city.

2010 – May We All Dance

In lieu of posting new year’s resolutions, I thought I’d offer a wish for all of us via the lyrics of one of my favourite songs, ‘I Hope You Dance,’ by Mark D. Sanders and Tia Sillers:

  I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
  You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger
  May you never take one single breath for granted
  God forbid love ever leaves you empty-handed.

  I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
  Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
  Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
  and when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
  I hope you dance, I hope you dance.

  I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
  Never settle for the path of least resistance
  Living might mean taking chances, but they’re worth taking
  Loving might be a mistake but it’s worth making.
  Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
  When you come close to selling out, reconsider.
  Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance

  And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
  I hope you dance (time is a wheel in constant motion always)
  I hope you dance (rolling us along)
  I hope you dance (tell me who wants to look back on their years
  and wonder where those years have gone)
  I hope you dance.

  I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
  Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
  Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
  And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
  I hope you dance.

Here’s the final minute of the 15-minute Manly show.

Manly Fireworks

Manly Fireworks

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Cheers and may we all dance in 2010.

A Felixstowe-Sydney-Darien Circle

Sydney

This is a story about how this blog brought together two members of a 1959 Bible Quiz team from Felixstowe, England, in Darien, Connecticut in 2009, via a link in Sydney, Australia.

Two months ago, I wrote a post about my deep affection for Felixstowe, England, where my partner, Clive, grew up.

A comment on that post led to an unexpected meeting in Connecticut.

Once upon a Time

Many years ago, in 1959, there was a Bible quiz team from the Bethesda Baptist Church in Felixstowe, on the coast of Suffolk in East Anglia, England.

According to The Children’s Newspaper of 28 February 1959,

Every week Sunday-school classes at Felixstowe (Suffolk) prepare for the Annual Bible Quiz. This event attracts over 1000 people to watch teams from all over the town competing for the coveted St. George’s Challenge Cup. Now the idea has spread via the columns of a local newspaper, sent out by a reader to a relative in Canada, and children of Orillia, Ontario, are following their example.’

On the 1959 Bethesda Baptist team were Clive W., Sue C., ‘my’ Clive, and David R. The quiz was held at the Spa Pavilion, an art-deco style building on the Felixstowe seafront where, in later years, Jimi Hendrix, The Who, and Led Zeppelin all performed.

The Winning Team

After weeks of preparation, the Bethesda Baptist team brought honour and pride to their church community when the two Clives, Sue, and David won the annual Bible quiz.

Each team member received a small silver cup. My Clive remembers that Clive W. got to hold the large winners’ cup because he was the captain and oldest member of the team.

Clive W, Sue, my Clive, David - Felixstowe, England, 1959

The Years that Followed

Clive’s family moved to Australia at the end of 1961. Clive kept in touch with many of his Felixstowe friends, including David R. We’ve had many pleasant get-togethers with David and his wife and other Felixstowe friends. Clive had heard some years ago that Sue had left Felixstowe and moved elsewhere.

I Join the Circle

As described on the About page of this blog, I moved to Sydney from Darien, Connecticut in 1995. Clive and I met in 2005, as I wrote about in How I Met My Valentine.  I started this blog in 2008.

When Martyn commented on my Felixstowe post, Clive responded that he remembered Martyn and his sister Sue, especially that Sue was a member of the 1959 Bible quiz team.

Then Clive and Sue exchanged e-mails, and we learned where she had moved to over 30 years ago.

Felixstowe to Connecticut

As fate, or luck, would have it, Sue had relocated to the U.S. in 1977 and was living and working in lower Fairfield County, Connecticut, within minutes of my former town of Darien. Sue’s daughter and grandchildren live in New Jersey, my home state.

It really is a small world. Clive went from Felixstowe to Sydney, Sue from Felixstowe to Connecticut, and I completed the loop by going from Connecticut to Sydney and meeting Clive there.

Thanks, Martyn

Thanks to Martyn finding my blog and commenting on it, and with the lovely coincidence of his doing so just before we were travelling to the U.S., we were able to connect with Sue last month in Darien.

What fun we had, sharing our respective stories, and for me, especially, what a strange and wonderful experience it was, to sit in my former town in Connecticut with Clive and a friend from Felixstowe.

Martyn, Sue’s younger brother, captained the Bethesda Baptist Bible quiz team himself in 1961.

Thanks, Martyn, for bringing us all together.

Clive and Sue C. - Darien, Connecticut, USA, 2009

Cheers to blogging and friendship all over the world.

Merry Christmas from Manly Beach

Manly Beach today

Sydney

Sydneysiders know how to enjoy the days leading up to Christmas.

The shops and supermarkets may be busy, but there’s always time to relax and savour the moment, especially when the sun is shining. Last year I posted photos of Curl Curl Beach just north of where we live.

Our home is close to Manly, a part of Sydney blessed by both Harbour and ocean beaches.

Manly Beach Calling Leesa

Leesa, if you’re reading this, I know you’ve spent time here at Manly and love the beach and the sunshine.

This photo’s for you. Manly misses you and hopes to see you again soon!

Manly Beach today

Happy Christmas, Everyone

Cheers and to all who celebrate this holiday, wishing you a happy, safe, and very Merry Christmas.

Queenscliff Beach and headland, adjoining Manly Beach

Cruise Ship Season in Sydney Harbour

Sydney Harbour this week

Sydney

One sign of summer Down Under is the coming and going of cruise ships in Sydney Harbour.
 
While my favourite Paris bloggers (listed on the left-hand sidebar) are posting beautiful pictures of snow, Sydney is busy hosting cruise ships under the summer sun. Between now and March, 118 cruise ship visits are scheduled, with 250,000 passengers expected to come into Sydney.

We’ve read the cruise industry has been relatively successful during the global economic downturn, with passenger numbers increasing.

I posted a photo of a ship berthed at Circular Quay in Cruise Ships in Sydney Harbour. If you’re interested in the daily schedule, the best site we’ve found is Sydney Ports.

Cheers and happy sailing.

Related posts:
  Cruise Ships in Sydney Harbour
 
Peak Hour for Cruise Ships on Sydney Harbour
  B
iggest Day for Cruise Ships in Sydney Harbour

Christmas in Sydney

Christmas tree at Martin Place, Sydney

Christmas shopping? We go sailing on Wednesdays.

Ferry arriving at Manly

Stuff, Writing, and the Holidays

 

Sydney

Stuff causes strong feelings in me and inspires me to set stuff-reduction goals that never seem quite reachable. I’ve spent years trying, though, and even bought books on the subject, which of course adds to my stuff.

As I wrote in my prior post, we have just returned home from small spaces to the large space where most of our stuff is. There’s a certain comfort in being surrounded by one’s favourite books, photographs, and other stuff.

The problem is I have become overwhelmed by stuff. Possibly we could have ignored the situation for a while longer, but my son and his girlfriend will be here for a visit in a couple weeks, a cause for joy, and I realised when looking into his room that the floor space under his bed, which should be clean and clear, is covered by plastic storage bins containing stuff. Some of it is stuff I had before. A lot of it is stuff shipped from New Jersey last year, which I wrote about in Australian Ornaments and Stuff, Redux.

The Immediate Problem

Unless we clear out some of the stuff from under my son’s bed, there will be nowhere, except the middle of the lounge room floor, for him and his girlfriend to store their empty suitcases.

How did I let this happen? Why do we have not even one inch of available space in this spacious apartment to even store a couple large suitcases or 8-10 plastic bins?

Overwhelmed by Stuff

Everywhere I look is full and about to overflow with stuff. It’s not that it’s messy or out of control; I’d say it’s a fairly neat and well-organised collection of stuff. But there is too much of it, everywhere.

Clearly, we have reached the desperate stage.

We have a lot of bookshelves; before our last trip, Clive even set up another one. They are all full (books are my biggest weakness; in the interest of full disclosure/confession I admit during our last trip we mailed a box containing more books, and that box hasn’t arrived yet).

In addition to books, every drawer – desk, wall unit, dressers – is full of stuff. Files — whether in desks, file bins, or paper in 3-ring binders – are all full and starting to bulge.

Every surface is full of stuff – the top of our desks (bad), the top of some bookcases (really bad), and even under my son’s bed (worst of all).

Our garage is full of stuff, neatly labelled in boxes on Clive’s purpose-built shelves. We only got the car in there a few months ago, before our last trip (sparing it from the worst of Sydney’s red dust storm on the day we departed).

I suppose we could park the car back on the street and carry bins of stuff to the garage ‘temporarily’. But we really, really don’t want to do that. The whole idea was not to put them in the garage in the first place, knowing we’d just have to carry them back up eventually.

Pros and Cons of a Large Space

Having a large space is good and bad. Last year, the contents of ten massive, heavy boxes from New Jersey were basically absorbed into our space. Some bins went under my son’s bed (never a good idea), some to bookshelves, some to the wall unit. I also absorbed all my mother’s ongoing paperwork –health, finances, personal affairs, files, archives – which are now with us in Sydney.

It’s a rule of stuff: stuff expands to the space available. I love clear surfaces and shelves that aren’t completely full, but at the moment, everything is full.

Stuff Is Personal

I know stuff is extremely personal and at different times of our lives, we accumulate stuff or get rid of stuff.

As much as I admire country homes and antique collections in my French Country Diary every year, I’m not a collector of bric-a-brac, furniture, or great artwork. My dream is a fairly spare, zen-like space, more the Asian influence with minimal stuff out and about.

One of my favourite organisation gurus, David Allen of Getting Things Done (GTD) fame, says stuff doesn’t matter as long as space is available. The issue Clive and I have at the moment is simple in some ways: too much stuff for our space.

Stuff Accumulates in Phases

This is another rule of stuff: sometimes a lot more comes in than goes out. As all parents of young children know, stuff grows to the max when kids are growing up. Schools alone generate millions of tons of paper and project stuff every year and many of us saved tons of it along the way. As children get older, the time gets better for sorting and purging all the school stuff.

I cut myself a lot of slack when my stepson and son were growing up and in school. Now we’re in another stage and have other triggers for stuff being reduced.

Death and moving are two obvious triggers for stuff-reduction phases. Last year my mother’s move to assisted living felt like a death, from the standpoint of having to empty her house. At a simpler level, the situation we’re in now, just feeling we’re at the limit of what we can absorb into our space, is triggering us to take action and reduce stuff.

Conflicting Feelings about Stuff

Of course there’s a difference between worthy or useful stuff and messy, unnecessary clutter, but still, too much of either makes me feel bad. When I can’t see a clear surface or easily put papers into a file or find room for a couple empty suitcases, it brings me down. I just can’t stand living in that kind of full-to-overflowing space. And judging by the hundreds of books on the subject, I’m not alone in my desire to live clean and clutter-free.

My most favourite (anti) clutter book is Karen Kingston’s Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shuian intentionally small book with hugely valuable information inside.  Kingston acknowledges the importance of meaningful possessions while providing helpful guidance on how to manage stuff in a way that works for the individual.  Another book I’ve found useful is Cindy Glovinsky’s Making Peace with the Things in Your Life.

In some ways it’s fascinating to consider psychological aspects of stuff, such as clutter representing deferred decisions, or clutter reflecting parents’ Depression-era saving and ‘just in case’ approaches to life. I know from experience in clearing my mother’s house last year the actual process of decision-making – what stays, what goes – can be one of the most physically and emotionally demanding and draining exercises any of us will ever perform.

What Now – Aussie Stuff, New Jersey Stuff, New Stuff, Old Stuff

Last year I did my best to organise my mother’s and my family stuff by generation, person, and subject area, but still it was a first pass and needs more sorting and purging to get it down to a manageable size.

When the New Jersey boxes arrived in Australia, I unpacked them only enough to store them in plastic bins and files here in Sydney. I was weary of decision-making and couldn’t bear to look at the contents any further than I’d already done in the weeks just before.

Now I’ve had a year or so of distance, and it’s time to go back and complete the work of reviewing and deciding and figuring out what can be discarded or scanned or taken to recycling here.

It’s not only the New Jersey stuff. Clive and I have accumulated a lot of our own new stuff, from our travels and our life, as you do when you live with someone over a period of years.

And to close the loop on these particular musings, it’s been our travels and being away for extended periods that have reminded us we can do quite well without a lot of stuff.

Sorting, Purging, Saving – A Sad and Happy Process

I actually – usually – like the sorting and purging process, knowing it will result in less stuff and, for me, less stress and aggravation.

The challenge, as always, is the decision-making, and sometimes it causes sadness and tears. How many photos of my great-grandparents should I scan and/or save? How many love letters of my grandparents? How many papers of my late brother Rob? What should be scanned, what can be let go forever? What if I make a wrong decision and regret it later? What books do we most want to keep and which ones can we agree to let go?

On the positive side for me: I’m inspired by the goal of space that’s clean and well-organised, knowing what’s saved – whether out in the open or stored in boxes and bins somewhere in our residence – are the most special, meaningful objects and personal possessions.

Where Does Writing Fit In All This?

 I’m working on a book and I know one truism above all others: writers write. It’s hard work and requires dedication and discipline, ‘butt on chair’, to put it bluntly – regularly, every day if possible. Some writers write 365 days a year.

In ‘Writing? You Need a Job’ I wrote about the challenge of other people’s reactions and judgments about writing. Now I also have to manage my own expectations and desires vis a vis other demands on our time.

In 2009 I made progress: a writing course, my first critique group, a professional evaluation of my first 37,500 words. I have so much more work to do and an intense desire to complete this book, not the first draft of it but a polished, reviewed, ready-for-sharing-in-public manuscript.

And I have so much stuff surrounding me, and Christmas is in less than two weeks. I know there is never a perfect time to write. People write everywhere – on the kitchen table, surrounded by children, on buses, in airports – and so do I.

But our arrival home and realisation there is nowhere to put two empty suitcases has triggered an equally intense desire to attack and reduce the stuff that surrounds us.

A Plan of Action

Maybe the timing is meant to be – our next curbside pick-up is in February. The pick-ups are only twice a year here, so this gives us a not-too-distant deadline to get rid of any stuff we can’t recycle or give away. And we can keep our big shredder going as long as necessary, until the paper files and piles are culled to where they need to be.

We have made progress – the neat garage, the ongoing shredding — and now it feels right to me, with Christmas approaching, to put my book on hold for about six weeks, focus on family time and my son’s visit, and in January, devote a few weeks of summer to tackling our stuff problem. The goal is to be ‘done’ for the February curbside pick-up, then return to eight words of advice I read years ago to achieve ongoing control of clutter: fend off the new; weed out the old.

I’ll still be thinking about my book and possibly writing here and there, but that will be a bonus and I won’t feel too guilty about setting it aside and coming back with fresh energy in the new year.

And I’ll be so much happier without all this stuff around!  Please wish us luck; we’ll need it to achieve this goal.  I hope by sharing it here, in public, that Universe provides whatever support is appropriate to move us along.

Cheers and dreaming of clear surfaces, organised storage bins, and enough free space to accommodate my son and his girlfriend’s empty suitcases.

Paris Lights, Singapore Decorations, Sydney Home

Galeries Lafayette, Paris

Paris

A few days ago we walked along the Christmas markets on the Champs-Elysées, sipping a rather tart red gluhwein (hot mulled wine).

Christmas markets, Champs Elysées, Paris

On the Boulevard Haussmann, we searched for a few final Christmas gifts for our Sydney family. Here again, as with the Eiffel Tower light show, we enjoyed the dazzling display. Especially at Galeries Lafayette, we admired the bright lights outside and the towering tree inside.

Christmas tree from 3rd floor, Galeries Lafayette, Paris

En Route via Singapore

We returned to Sydney via Singapore, where Changi Airport was decked out in modern holiday finery.

Changi Airport, Singapore


Even on Singapore Airlines - both the A380 and Boeing 747 – it was the first time either Clive or I could remember having decorations inside the plane itself.

Decorations inside 747, Singapore Airlines


The Meaning of Home

As per our longstanding family motto, it’s great to go away and it’s great to come home.

As much as Clive and I seem to do very well in small spaces for extended periods — a hotel room in New Jersey or a small two-room apartment in Paris — it is a joy to be back in our relatively large space, at my own desk, surrounded by my favourite books, photographs, and stuff.

I still think there’s too much stuff in the world, and too much stuff right here in our Sydney home, but we also believe home is where you make it, and a corollary of that seems to be home is where your stuff is.

Home for me is anywhere Clive and I are together. It’s also, as I’m typing this, where I can breath in Sydney’s fresh air, marvel at the natural beauty of its Harbour, then step inside into the space we call home.

Summer evening, Sydney Harbour


Cheers, happy travels, and happy homecoming to all who are on the move during this holiday season.

The Eiffel Tower, Shimmying and Shimmering

Eiffel Tower light show, Paris

Paris

The Eiffel Tower celebrated its 120th birthday this year and Paris has staged a series of events to mark this great occasion.

Last month we visited the excellent exhibit, ‘Gustave Eiffel, le Magicien du Fer (Magician of Iron)’, at the Hôtel de Ville.

Last night we joined locals and tourists alike at Trocadéro, to watch the 12-minute Eiffel Tower light show. What a fun, dazzling display it is, one minute for each decade the Tower has been standing.

Every colour of the rainbow is used, with lights moving and dancing up and down the structure so at times it seems as if the Tower itself is shimmying in the moonlight. There’s a festive buzz in the air and from what we could tell, everyone else enjoyed the show as much as we did.

Our rather primitive camera-video (and no tripod) doesn’t do it full justice but for those of you not in Paris, here are a couple minutes. I hope you enjoy a taste of the Eiffel Tower showing off on a December night.

Eiffel Eyeful

Eiffel Eyeful

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The Eiffel Tower light show uses low energy LED spotlights, described in further detail on the Tower’s official site. The show runs four times each evening until 31 December 2009, at 8, 9, 10, and 11pm.

If you can get there, we highly recommend this fun, unique view of a favourite Paris icon.

Paris December Day

Morning sky, Paris

Paris

It’s a joy to be back in Paris. How lucky we were to arrive to a crisp, clear day. I was so happy to see the city I took a couple photos from the bus window.

Fnac store, Paris

All was well in our U.S. travels and Clive enjoyed his first American Thanksgiving.

I can’t believe it’s already December. When we left Paris a few weeks ago, there were hints of Christmas in the air. Now there are beautiful holiday reminders inside and out.

Entry to a local supermarché

Tonight we took a walk around the quartier and ooh’ed and ahh’d over the light show at the Eiffel Tower. It’s a fun, unique sight and reminded us of how the Sydney Harbour Bridge is often lit up for special events. Clive took a movie on my camera and I’ll try to post a photo or two tomorrow.

I’m looking forward to catching up on my favourite blogs and making the most of our final week here.

Cheers and happy December.