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Year: 2015

Stuff the Turkey…but let’s give thanks

Nice concept Thanksgiving. Feasting, football games, floats, family reunions, four day weekends…a forerunner for Christmas. Thanksgiving has undergone numerous transitions since that small group of Pilgrims disembarked the Mayflower in Plymouth Rock way back in 1620 and went on to celebrate a bountiful harvest thanks to support provided by the Indians through a long and bitter winter. Despite this, the premise remains the same. Gratitude.

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Today, over a refreshing Pimms or two and a particularly juicy steak with a couple of dear friends, we got to talking about how fragile life is as we worry for friends dealing with cancer; how fleeting love is for others struggling with relationships; how lonely life can be without that love to take for granted; the world at large as we face a war on terrorism; the challenges of survival for the war torn. Reality check. Our personal problems so ‘first world’ in comparison.

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Dear Paris…a heartfelt love letter

Beloved Paris how my heart bleeds for you.

You’ve opened your arms to me so many times, smiling with relief on learning I was an Aussie, benignly as I bastardised your language in my clumsy attempt to fit in, with a smirk as I grumbled about the cost of Internet top up. You brought tears of sadness when the Police Nationale confiscated the homeless man’s puppy; of pleasure on hearing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in Sainte-Chapelle, of joy as I viewed your sparkling Eiffel Tower…and heartbreak at what you are experiencing now.

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You philosophized on why I shouldn’t cross my ankles, argued why I should make the most of the generous aperitifs each eve, shouldn’t ignore offal, should try tartare with egg yolk, shouldn’t order butter with a croissant, should order the cafe gourmand. Your wait staff from all nationalities almost always warm, obliging, protective. You hid me safely the night I worried I was being stalked. And you hid your patrons safely in your kitchens when you learnt that several restaurants had been targeted.

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(Exhausted) pleasant person speaking

Don’t know about you, but when I’m feeling tired and over scheduled I can become overly sensitive and a tad emotional. Finding myself there this week, I lashed out unnecessarily at one of my colleagues. I have since apologised. Took me six days to do so. Two spent personally justifying my behaviour, two determining a solution to the situation that caused my reaction in the first place and two more recognising the impact my actions might have had on the greater team.

Thing is, I’d let myself down. I had failed to live by my personal charter of being a positive influence, a level headed, calm, collected role model for the team. Yep. Time to apologise. And I thank Eleanor Roosevelt (1884 – 1962) for that. Why? Flipping through an old Frankie magazine I came across several quotes for which she is famed:

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