International Women's Day

Today, dear readers, is International Women's Day.

Celebrated throughout the world on March 8th, it is:

 'an occasion for looking back on past struggles and accomplishments, and more importantly, for looking ahead to the untapped potential and opportunities that await future generations of women' (source) 

(source)

I would like to take this chance today to celebrate some of the amazing women who I am fortunate enough to have in my life as daily inspiration and examples of the amazing will and wonder of women.

First in line is my Mum. My first and strongest example of what it means, and what it takes, to be a woman today. This lovely lady is a tour de force of familial responsibility, friendship, personal and professional advice, and warm fuzziness. Of course, as with most mother-daughter relationships we have had our differences, but I can honestly say that this beautiful woman who carried me, and cared for me is a filament of gold woven through the fabric of my life. Mama Chickpea taught me that you should always see both sides, choose a positive outlook on your day with every sunrise, always look to turn a stranger into a friend, and that a cup of tea will solve most problems. Love you Mama.

The next two amazing women who stand as pillars in my mind are my sisters. One of blood, one of coincidence, my darling Jess (little Chickpea) and the beautiful Casey. These ladies are a complex synergy of hard work, dedication, young wisdom, and (it must be said) downright silly dancing and singing combinations. There is no problem that I cannot present to them and receive advice or comfort, or a taste tester. When I am down, they are the ones with the ladder and the light to help me out of despair and illuminate the way forward.

Both of my grandmothers also stand as legendary female characters and influences in my life.
My paternal grandmother (sadly passed) raised five children, built a house and home, married her teenage sweetheart and helped out those in her community. Nanny Dawn, you left an incredible legend behind to live up to.
My maternal grandmother, Mormor (Danish for mother's mother), survived German-occupied Denmark during World War two, left Denmark and all her family to move to Australia with two young girls (Mama and my aunty) and build a life in a new country where she didn't even speak the language. Mormor has always encouraged me to march to the beat of my own drum, and I owe much of my gypsy spirit to this lady.

My closest high school friends whose friendship has followed me into adulthood: Caroline, Josie and Laura. You ladies let me slip back into that easy lunch time feeling and the conversations that we had all those years ago beneath the shade of our favourite Jacaranda tree. The passing years have taken all of us on different adventures but our bond is as strong as those school girl days.

Samantha, my co-chief bridesmaid and one of the most beautiful souls who blesses my life with her presence in it. You are just at the start of an amazing journey little sister, take every day as your own.

 I would also like to take this opportunity on International Women's Day to point out that not only is it amazing women who support the achievements and advancement of females in our society. There are so many men who play a role in actively promoting female interests and encouraging the women in their lives. I must thank my Dad who always wanted only daughters (be careful what you wish for) and then along with Mama set about showing us that there are no limits to what a girl can do. My Dad taught me to cook, hammer a nail, how to watch motor sports, the best way to eat ice cream and jelly, and has supported his daughters in their every endeavour.

Dear readers, happy International Women's Day. Take today to celebrate the accomplishments of the amazing women in your life. Look back on how far we have all come and the path of those that have marched before us.
Be proud to be a woman. To be in an age where there is nothing to stop any of us from achieving our dreams and ambitions. Look at all the women who are powerful figures in our own lives and those who are making decisions and blazing new trails around the world, then set yourself the challenge of being your own woman of distinction.
You don't have to be the first woman on an all male basketball team, there are so many ways that we can set an example of what it means to be a woman today.
Take ownership of your physical self. Love your body, whatever shape it comes in, show it care and attention and take health as your goal rather than deprivation and loathing.
Love your mind, learn from every day and every person you meet. Read, write, create, experiment, share stories and memories. Find mentors and companions who challenge you and support you to grow.
Nourish your spirit. Look for meaning in every day moments. Count your blessings every day.
Love wildly and without reserve.
Make the most of your every precious heart beat.
Be empowered in your life by the lives of those around you.
We are women, watch us soar.

The Privilege of Understanding Ourselves

'It [this book] reminds us that we read because literature offers the privilege of understanding ourselves through the lives of others. It reminds us that with this privilege comes the unanticipated power to change our own lives.'

- Rabalais, K 2012, 'Desperation unfolds like a luminous dream', Review: The Australian, 3-4 March, p.18-19.

This week I have been doing a lot of reading.Now, that really shouldn't be a surprise with a degree title 'Writing, Editing, and Publishing', should it?

I have long loved the written word; as a child I would read anything I could get my hands on, as a teenager I would stay up to all hours of the morning to finish a new novel that had been delivered to my hands that very morning, and as an adult I spend hours everyday reading (nowadays a lot of blogs make up my reading list!), now I am in the process of making reading my job!

A few years ago, when I was going through a period where I lost my own sense of character, my individual needs and the essential joie de vivre, I lost my love of reading. Somehow my lifelong love of losing myself between the pages, dancing between the lines, and travelling the world from my arm chair, had disappeared. 

As I started making positive changes and walking slowly back into the light my appetite was reawakened. 

A hunger like none I had ever experienced took me over, satiety could only be achieved through a steady diet of text. The last two years have been filled with literature from all walks of life: romantic fiction, histories, science journals and books, cookbooks, explorers tales, pop psychology, and poetry.  

The wonderful chance that I have been given, to be in a place in my life where I am able to go back to university, has allowed me to begin appreciating the craft of the written word from a wholly new perspective. To begin exploring the very basics, such as the intricacies assigned to constructing a 'proper' sentence and the macro level issues like breaking into the publishing industry.

I think I have fallen into the right (or should that be write?) rabbit hole Alice.

I would never give back the five years that I spent at university for my undergraduate degrees; I gained the knowledge and power to help others, and myself, and one of the greatest friendships of my life.

But this time I am studying something that I have a true passion for and I feel the excitement every time I walk into a lecture or tutorial.

When I read the newspaper this weekend and saw this quote in a book review it echoed with me.

Why do I read?

I read to learn, I read to escape, to come back to myself and all that is important, I read to be reminded of times in my past and to be inspired for the future, I read to step into another's shoes for a while, I read to be whisked away to foreign lands, or to dream of places that don't exist.

There is privilege in peaking into the life of others, to learn from their travails, be entertained by their tales, and to be reminded of the ordinary beauty in our world.

The minutiae of daily life can take away our ability to probe more deeply into our experience, to allow time to reflect on what we have been through, and to imagine all the possibilities of the world.

There in lies the privilege of reading.

The gift of an author stimulating those deeper feelings about our experience, helping us question what we have seen and done and the acts of others. The chance to reflect on what the world has to offer, or how everyone's experience of life can be so different and yet contain so many similarities to our own, no matter where in time or place they have lived.

The privilege is the seed that a good book can sew in our minds that grows into inspiration to dream of all that is to come....

Tell me, dear reader, why do you read?

Back to School!

Hello my lovely reader,
I must apologise for my absence these last few weeks, I have been busily preparing for (and freaking out about) going back to university again!
On Tuesday I left work in the afternoon and made the trek across town to my university campus for my first lecture. I must admit that this first lecture scared me a little, okay, a lot. Coming from a science background I feel that I face a huge learning curve with this graduate degree in writing, editing and publishing. I am afraid of this curve, that it could possibly throw me off like a motorcycle racer who leans to close to the corner and gets torn from the bike. It is important to acknowledge this fear, to give it a name and look it in the eye. Once I know what the fear is exactly, what it's spidery arms are reaching towards and how far it has spread, I can begin the work of counteracting the fear on my terms.
So I am afraid of a curve in my learning. It is a good curve but the fear inside me is that I am not up to the task. To counter this I need to remind myself that I have already been to university (albeit in a different context) but I know that I am capable of the work expected at these institutions (Amy: 1; Fear: 0).
I am also excited by this learning and that battles fear in a big way because that excitement feeds motivation, which in turn nourishes hard work (Amy: 2; Fear: 0).
But the final point in my trio of battling points against fear is that I have love and support from the people around me, and fear is all by itself!
Final Score. Amy: 3. Fear: 0.

When I headed off to my second lecture yesterday I was understandably apprehensive, but I walked out of the room inspired.

Part of the beautiful campus at UQ.

As part of our assessment we have to write a response to each week's lecture. These responses can include poetry, so of course I made up a little nonsense poem about the inspiration and hope I always feel when I walk out of the first week of lectures, the dreams that are inspired by the possibilities of where this course could lead me. I hope you enjoy.

“First Lecture Dreams” by Amy Chatwin

Last night in those starry dreamless hours

I surrendered myself to those highest powers

The dreams called forth by a first lecture’s hope

This is what I remembered through the haze as I awoke

I dreamt of typewriters and coffee stained pages

Submissions from hipsters and new fashioned sages

Whisked away to a world where offbeat is god

But corduroy and activism is not my scene so the dream moved on

Now I’m in a high rise, Prada suited and coiffed

Shiny windows, harbour views, a Blackberry always going off

Rushing in heels, call to my assistant to “Get Ms. Wintour on the phone!!”

This slickness doesn’t suit, oh Morpheus please find my publishing home!

Then I’m landing in soft pages and a pot of tea brewed

Crumbs, galleys from a new Nigella (post-its galore!) across my desk are strewn

Laughter from the kitchen – celebration of a new ‘cook-blook’ to come

Morpheus you found it – the perfect ingredients – hard work, food and fun

A place where ‘yummy’ is a defining criteria

Proofs with recipes crowding their interiors

Yoho and a bottle of essence of rum

A job baked from this batter seems just the right (write) one!

Before I can taste this ambrosia delight

The dawn starts calling an end to the night

My alarm calls to alert a new day and end this sweet sleep

Lecture notes, assignments yet to do, remind me

It’s only first week!

Banana Chocolate Muffins for Bobby C.

It is strange how much can change in the turn of a year. I am one of those sappy sentimental types who loves to look back over the course of time and see the progression of my life, and the lives of those around me, at any given opportunity.
You should have seen me on New Year's Eve. I was a moist-eyed, messy haired maelstrom of emotion.
Anyway, the strangest things can transport me into reflecting over the year, and today it just happened to be the price of bananas.
Please, stay with me, I promise there is a point, a recipe, and some photos, very soon!
This time last year Brisbane was in the early stages of cleaning up after our horrendous floods. Every day there were new reports of the extent of the devastation and the millions of dollars of work that needed to be done to put people's lives back together. I won't deny that there are so many people still suffering the after effects, but there is still help available and still work goes on.

Shortly after the floods northern Queensland was severely affected by cyclone Yasi. Again, communities were leveled, whole lifetimes swept away along with houses and possessions and all the banana crops.
Here in Brisbane, in the areas not affected by the flood, such as where I live, one of the major symptoms of the natural disasters plaguing our state was the price of bananas. Such a silly thing, but here it is a type of barometer for our society. In Brisbane, that means that when bananas hit $15 a kilogram, something is wrong.
Sometimes in life it is those common daily objects and foods that we rely on to indicate normality and maintain consistency when all else goes awry. Over the past couple of months when there have been some major shifts in my life the rhythm of the everyday, the dulling, soothing regularity of household tasks has been a blessing. You just surrender to the familiarity, and you know that those everyday things, those simple parts of life, mean that when you look at the bigger picture, when you are able to, everything really will be all right.
Now, a year after the floods, and what a year it has been, I saw bananas at the market today for 29 cents a kilogram. 2012 might be a restful year after all. The banana always knows.

These muffins were made for my Dada, Bobby C.

Banana Chocolate Muffins for Bobby C.


I used a scale to measure all large quantities of ingredients, wet into one bowl and dry into another. It made for easier cleaning up! To convert grams to ounces simply use this handy little calculator.
Makes 20 medium sized muffins.


Ingredients
225 grams plain flour
115 grams brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder

170 grams milk
3 small bananas, or two medium
Juice of one lemon
2 large eggs
50 grams rice bran oil (or other mild flavoured oil)
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste

2/3 cup chopped dark chocolate

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Line two muffin tins with 20 paper liners, or spray with cooking spray.
2. In a large mixing bowl mash bananas with the lemon juice, you want them to be mostly liquid but a few banana chunks are okay and will caramelise slightly when baked.
3. Into the banana bowl weigh the other wet ingredients; milk, eggs, oil, and vanilla bean paste.
4. In a separate bowl whisk together the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder.
5. Add dry ingredients to the banana mixture and stir until mostly combined, then gently fold in the nuggets of dark chocolate.
6. Spoon mixture into prepared pans and bake for approximately 15-18 minutes, swapping trays between top and bottom halfway through the cooking time. 
7. Allow to cool for 5 minutes in the pan, then remove to a wire rack to cool completely.

Returned, and, Observations about Observation

Here I am, returned safe and sound from my southerly sojourn. Lighter of pocket, and heavier of suitcase with blistered feet and a relaxed mind I wound my way back into town on Monday afternoon.
I did a great lot of walking, and thinking and drinking and talking whilst I was in Melbourne. I present to you some thoughts recorded while sipping chamomile tea one afternoon, and some photos from my week away.

It is no great secret that one of my favourite pass times is people watching. Whether I am travelling, or just a home town tourist, even on my commute to and from work, I love to observe my fellow humans.
How can we, all essentially the same, be such an endless source of entertainment and wonder?
Perhaps that is what people-watchers like myself are trying to figure out.
I find amusement in the details of people, the intimate and telling parts of ourselves that we put on display to the world everyday; the chic minimalist woman who wears her grandmother's earrings because they remind her of a beloved now passed, the tough businessman with his 'I Heart My Labradoodle' keyring, the rebellious neon haired teenager who still wears her confirmation crucifix. These are the almost imperceptible details of people that provide me with hours of entertainment and endless leads and lifetimes in my mind.

When that which can be seen starts to bore, I turn to that which cannot be viewed.
What are the secrets of those around me? Who are they? Where have they travelled from to be in the same place as me today?

The three women across from me at the cafe today are a perfect example. An eclectic group for sure; one woman in a council worker's safety fluorescent shirt, another who would be right at home as a humanities lecturer at the local university, and another who appears to work in hospitality if anything can be guessed from her monochromatic black garb and serviceable and steady sneakers.

Three very different occupations, three women who do not appear related, and yet here they are sharing coffee, laughter and conversation. Where did their lives become entangled? What spark inside each individual lit a fire of companionship in the other so that they came to be sitting around a small, round, concrete table on a sunny afternoon in Melbourne.

Then, how did it transpire that the wires of each of their lives led them here at the exact moment I sat down to my own cup of tea and pistachio macaron?

These are their stories to keep and mine to keep wondering about.
Isn't it amazing though, that all those stories intersected for an hour one February day.

They leave, together, and I stay, alone, and wait for the next unknown story to pass before my eyes.

Bon voyage!

My dear readers,
I am off adventuring tomorrow, just a week long jaunt to gorgeous Melbourne to catch up with some friends, drink amazing coffee (and perhaps some champagne...) and do some damage to my savings account. 
I feel my feet drawing me to all corners of the city to gather tales and walk through the dappled late summer light. 
I may have time to regale you with my adventures during my sojourn, but this wanderer might forget...

Your peripatetic friend,
Amy

So Many Celebrations!

It seems we can barely go a week in the chickpea household without some celebration or another, not a bad way to live at all!
Today marks a very important occasion in our family calendar - my parent's 32nd wedding anniversary!

February 9th, 1980

There is beauty in love that has lasted so long, and many years of happiness to look back on; from their love grew our family and the wonderful times we have all had together.
My parents have taught me so many beneficial things throughout my life, and watching their marriage over the past (nearly) 25 years of my life has allowed me valuable insight into how love blooms and grows throughout our life span.
Things are not always perfect, in fact who would want them to be? There will be areas of pressure build up, and things will go wrong, but if you remember that the greatest bond between you is love, then you can survive these things. Seams of pressure build coal into diamonds, and diamonds are forever.
You are in it together, and as long as you have each other nothing else matters.
Remember to value the small things that other's do for you - because while grand gestures and diamond rings are fabulous, at the end of the day making the bed and mowing the lawn are just as valuable expressions of love everyday.
My parents have stood side by side through many storms in their 32 years and their love now is even more beautiful with its patina of time and care. There are worn in comfy spots that show in the smiles on their faces, and rituals that still transport them back to when they were only newly weds.
Perhaps the moment that I see the years fall away the most is when my Dad gathers Mum into his arms for a waltz every time 'Three Times a Lady' by Lionel Richie plays on the radio. The smile on her face, and the mist of happy tears in her eyes turn Mum back into a blushing bride dancing with her husband at their wedding, and Dad back into a young man who was so happy to start a life with his lady.
Congratulations Mum and Dad, here is to 32 years more of happiness, health and love.
'Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love'
(1 Corinthians 13:13)