Perspective

 I was thinking while lying in bed last night (the other place to do good thinking is on the loo!!), and I’m not sure if this is the right title or not, but will leave it anyway.

 Human beings see the world from their own personal perspective. I remember when my son was quite young. We lived on a hill and one day I found him with his nose pressed against the window looking at the trees. I asked him what he was up to. He said: “Mommy, when I stand here and look at the trees, they are really big”. Then he went to the end of the hallway and said: “And when I stand here, the trees look really small”. My little boy had discovered perspective. When you look at things close up, they are very big. When you step back, they not only look smaller, but you can see more of what is around them.

 I did a similar thing the other day. I read an email from my own perspective. When I told someone what I had read, they questioned: “Is this what was really said?”.  I went back to the email and realised that I had only read the first sentence and the last sentence, and missed the two in the middle. When questioned, I had to step back and look at it from a more distanced place and realise that what I had understood was not necessarily what had been said.

 Why do people do this? I know it’s not just me, cause I’ve seen it happen over and over again. Have you ever heard someone tell a story about an incident that you witnessed. Their telling is entirely different from yours – even allowing for the storyteller’s poetic licence. Words have connotations for each individual person. And what is a “good” word for me, is possibly a “bad” word for you. If I told Susan she was a “smarty pants”, she would grin, giggle and squirm with delight. I do have to be careful who I say that to. A lot of people see it as a negative when I mean it as a positive.

 I had an incident with a friend many years ago. She had done something she was very proud of. I told her in no uncertain term (to me anyway) that I was also proud. I did however, use the words “smarty pants”. When we finally discussed the incident, I realised that she had not heard my “Well done”, the excitement in my voice, my body language, or any of the other positive words I had used. She had only heard the words “smarty pants” and in her house as a child, these were used as put downs, not positives. When we discussed the incident, she was able to step back from her feelings and really listen to what I was saying.

 Not only is it our own personal connotation of the words used, but our response is also based on personal experience, what has happened to us in the past, usually childhood. A remark, made in jest, can be seen as a criticism, when it is meant simply as humour.

 I am learning to step back and see not only the huge trees nearby but to see more of the world around the trees, what that means to me and what it might mean to others. Is this person meaning to criticise or offend?  Generally not. They are seeing the world from their own perspective, different from mine. Their words are different and have a different connotation from mine.

 I am learning to look at my life now and in the past from a different perspective.

 Madeleine

Tuesday, 3 January 2006

 

 

 

I have lots of photos, scanned and taken myself. I want to be able to put in information about the photo, where it was taken, when, who is in the photo, stuff like that and then save it with the photo.

Then I want to burn the photos onto CD, with all that information and then sort/find the pictures again when I want to look for specific ones, based on the information I have put with the photo.

What is the best program to use to do this?

Not too expensive and would prefer one that I can try before I buy.

Anyone got an idea?

BTW I've got a PC not a Mac.

Madeleine
Sunday, 1 January 2006

When I was 18 years old, I decided to test out travelling and decided to visit an old (well relatively old considering I was only 18 at the time) school friend who had moved away. I was going to travel from Montreal to New York city, all by myself, on the bus. What an Intrepid Little Traveller I was.

I don’t remember much about buying the tickets or boring stuff like that. The bus trip was only about 8 hours so not too bad. My problem was that for some reason, the bus arrived quite a number of hours early. So instead of being picked up at the bus station at some reasonable hour, I arrived at something like 3 a.m. with no one to pick me up. So there was our Intrepid Little Traveller, all alone, in New York bus terminal, at 3 a.m.

Being the Intrepid Little Traveller that I was, I decided that I would have time to find my way to my friends house, and I could surprise her. How exciting. The Intrepid Little Traveller loves giving people surprises. So off went our Intrepid Little Traveller, onto the New York Subway at 3 a.m. I bought myself a ticket with the help of a drunk, who seemed quite taken with me. Sat on the train, looked around and watched the sun begin to rise. I remember that it was pretty dingy and dirty.

With the help of another drunk or two, I managed to reach the proper station and found my way to my friend’s house. I knocked on the door and of course, she was quite surprised to see me. I explained that the bus had arrived very very early and I had decided to surprise her. She asked me how I got there. The Intrepid Little Traveller replied: “By subway, aren’t I clever. I found my own way.”

Well, shock horror!!! Of course, our Intrepid Little Traveller didn’t realise that NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE travelled alone on the New York Subway at 3 a.m. and certainly not a 5’2”, 100 lbs when soaking wet, teenage female. No one was pleased with me. No one was excited that I had done this all by myself. In fact, everyone was shocked and horrified that it hadn’t even occurred to me to ring and tell people I had arrived early, that I hadn’t been raped, murdered and/or pillaged during my journey, that the drunks I’d met had been really nice and helpful, and had no intention of rape, murder and/or pillage. All they wanted to do was to help a very small, proud of herself, Intrepid Little Traveller.

Madeleine
Sunday, 1 January 2006-

Just for you guys who have never been to Australia. Was looking through my photos and these are some I found to share.

This is my ex-mother in law and her dawg, Smithy. Both long dead now. But you can see the Hill’s Hoist, a very very Australian sight in many back gardens. Not so many today, but at that time (1972 or thereabouts), was standard.



This is the Fremantle Markets, and some of the shops.



The Streets of Fremantle and the restaurant where we had dinner. Fremantle is an “in” spot to go for a night out, there is often happenings there for families. Very pretty area.




This is a picture of my back garden. Woke up one morning to this so had to get out the camera. Couldn’t resist.



This was my mother in law’s house in Brisbane. She was prone to floods and this one occurred very shortly after my son was born. Notice the high set houses. Very common in Queensland, but not in Perth where I live now.



I rather like this next one. Looking down onto the flood with the hoist almost submerged. I’ve recently got some slides scanned onto CD and these were a couple of them. They’ve done a pretty reasonable job.



This is a miniature village at Cockington Green, just outside of Canberra. Been there twice and loved it both times.



This is a picture of the Swan River here in Perth. Gives an idea of the Australian “nothing” landscape – flat and brown. This was taken from a little restaurant where we were having lunch. Rather a nice spot to eat, relax and enjoy the company of friends.



And of course, Australian photos would not be complete without the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I once took one with my son in the middle of it. He didn’t want me to do it, too touristy, but I insisted that I was a tourist and was allowed to take touristy pictures if I wanted to.



I’ve got hundreds more. Figure it is time to stop now. Enuf is enough. I must admit I have enjoyed this little exercise.

Madeleine
Sunday, 1 January 2006

New Kettle

Cast of characters:
Gezunda – me
MA – my son
KJ – his partner
DB – KJ’s father
Kettle – my old kettle

Everytime I look at my new kettle, I wonder: Was the old one really dead or not? This is going to be another one of these unanswered question which will likely plague me for the rest of my life. See, we threw Kettle out. I’ll tell you the story.

I woke up one morning while the kids were here to realise that we’d had a power failure overnight. The “kids” were up and informed me that while I was in sleepland, they had had to replace the fuse wire 3 times. They decided that it was Kettle. So we put Kettle aside, bought a new one, and time marched forward.

Seeing Kettle sitting on the table, and being a “thrower outer” rather than a “hanger onto-er”, I threw Kettle in my grotty bin. No point in keeping her, says young Gezunda. It’s just more junk in your house. You know what its like at work with the “hanger onto-er” we have there, and all the junk that gets kept. So in the bin she went (I assume all kettles are she’s, don’t know why. It’s a bit like all cats are girls and all dawgs are boys. Bit of a worry, cause my dawg’s a girl. But never mind, I digress here).

By this stage, we are running a bit short of fuse wire and KJ and I are at the shops, so we buy some new fuse wire.

That day DB comes to visit KJ, and MA asks him is there something wrong with the electricity in the house? Do we need to call a professional? Someone who actually knows what they are doing with this stuff called electricity? I mean, I know how to change a light bulb. But anything else to do with electricity……………… (There’s those dots again, Colo). DB takes some things apart, looks very intelligent and pronounces: You’re using the wrong fuse wire. Huh? Is there more than one type of fuse wire? Well you coulda fooled me.

So there may or may not have been anything wrong with poor Kettle, who is now in a tip somewhere in Perth, Western Australia. So please, all blogstreamers, mourn the death of Kettle, who may have met an untimely death due to the ignorance it her owners.

Madeleine

Sunday, 1 January 2006