What Will Your Legacy Be?

A friend asked me the other day what I thought my legacy will one day be. Now, that's a great, thought-provoking question ... for someone who actually takes the time to think about their departure from this life. I admit, I don't choose to go there very often, however it's a fair call and one that deserves contemplation.

What is a legacy? After researching the word, I came up with a combination of definitions and interpret it as 'leaving an objective or subjective significance to a successor, loved one or even the world'.

I guess, legacies happen, or eventuate, through the accumulation of the days of our lives. What we do today will typically determine our tomorrows, whether it's through our behaviour, our talent, our altruism, our ability to earn copious amounts of money etc., for ourselves and others.

Unless we fly by the seat of our pants we care for events that happen after we are no longer here. We are building our legacy as we live it, through each opportunity that arises.

So, I asked myself in all seriousness, "What would my personal legacy look like if I passed today?" The answer didn't spring to mind spontaneously.

Giving it some thought, I feel it's not necessarily determining and focussing on a particular legacy. For me, it's about the way I live my life to be a legacy in itself. The connections I make and how I treat myself and others. This includes animals.

Am I helpful in times of need? Do I utilise my insightful, empathetic skills in a meaningful way for the greater good? Do I make a difference, if only small, creating a ripple affect that far surpasses my awareness?

Sure, I'd love to possess the ingenuity to come up with a new, life-changing invention or to find a cure for a horrible disease, but that's batting way above my average.

The unspoken subjectivity is what's most purposeful and consequential in my book. If this makes me immortal, I'm sure that thought will allow me to rest peacefully when my time comes.

What would your legacy be?

Newspapers - Our Versatile Medium

Thank goodness for newspapers we can fold under our arms, that fly in the breeze, crinkle, and blacken our fingers ...

Speaking with some lovely elderly folk this week, I was reminded not all of us are living, or aspiring to live, in the digital world, preferring to hang onto familiar, comfortable ways.

Many pensioners don't have access to a computer or the skills to actually use one. The unknown is too daunting. By the conversations I've had, some retirees are simply not interested in learning new information, period.

I was reminded how enjoyable it is to sit outside in the garden or at the kitchen table with a nice cup of tea and read a newspaper from back to front, soaking in the current happenings. It's just not the same as sitting in front of a computer, staring at a screen.

While I also like to read online articles, I admit, I wholeheartedly agree. Besides, there are so many useful purposes newspapers serve us after we've digested the informative words. I, for one, would miss them terribly if all hard copies were made extinct.

How would I line my fluff ball's kitty litter tray? Newspaper is perfect for absorbing odours and wetness. It's also an amusement for cats. I've watched them dive under the thin, paper covers only to see mischievous eyes peek out at me.

You can't beat newspaper when cleaning windows! Water stains magically disappear right before your eyes.

Newspaper is handy for cleaning ovens, warm barbeque plates and grills, or for packing material around fragile items when moving house. You can even use it as environmentally friendly wrapping paper, especially if you spice it up with decorative creativity.

In the garden newspaper lines up beautifully under mulch to keep the dreaded weeds at bay, while eventually transforming into organic matter.

Kids love arts and crafts. Give them newspapers and an adhesive and they're entertained for hours. Show them how to make papier mache even better!

What about our warming wood heaters? Kindling and crumpled up newspaper does the trick to get them going. Bonfires, camp fires, any fires, for that matter, will ignite with paper and a flame.

There are so many more uses for this inscripted, informative, thin, material. The list is endless such as, a fruit and vege draw liner or shelf liners in general, drop sheets when cleaning, staining or painting something. Use as a shape keeper or a deodoriser by crinkling up balls of paper and stuffing them into your shoes. In fact, crumpled up newspaper placed in an old suitcase for a couple of weeks will absorb a stale stench.

Newsprint even ripens green tomatoes to a lovely red if you wrap them, place them in a box and close with a lid. Wet shredded newspaper is also superb compost material if added to your compost heap. Your earthworms will love it.

Let's keep our precious, hard copy newspapers circulating for all the above reasons, but especially for those of us who delight in reading the stories with our noses engrossed in the print, while manually turning each page. When we're well and truly done with our papers, we can still recycle them and help save the earth's natural sources.

Hindsight Is A Wonderful Thing.

My husband has asked I post this story of a very personal nature in the hope, especially younger, readers will take note of the importance of covering up under our intense Australian sun. 

Anthony grew up on a dairy farm and spent his childhood working and running around outside among all of the elements country Victoria exhibits.

Before the 1980's sun protection campaigns just weren't prominent in Australia and not much heed was taken when it came to protecting our largest organ from aggravating climate factors.

Anthony's fair, sensitive skin  consequently suffered immense damage, which didn't become prevelant until well in his late twenties.

Pre-cancerous and cancerous overgrowths of scaly skin spots began to surface, mostly on his face, and needed regular, six monthly attention during follow-ups with a general practitioner.

Over the years, these scaly spots continued to increase and we approached a specialised skin cancer clinic, which has treated Anthony continually for nearly a decade.

During his most recent appointment, a cream was prescribed, which is one of several medications used by skin cancer patients. This cream is topical chemotherapy, applied to pre-cancerous and cancerous growths to bring damaged cells to the surface and remove them, while preventing the further development of abnormal cells.

The ointment is administered morning and night for three weeks and is a vigorous, painful process, burning the skin more each day, hence the color of Anthony's face. Thankfully his treatment is nearly completed and in just a few weeks his skin  will have recovered and the problematic, scaly spots will have disappeared.

Damage to our skin cells and the possibility of skin cancer happens over a lifetime. It is cumulative. Sunburns don't need to be blistering or peeling to cause damage. Any kind of burn is harmful. 

Anthony implores you to take this information onboard and to each day protect your exposed, sun-kissable skin areas as best you can by applying quality sunscreen, wearing a hat and covering up.

UV radiation isn't just dangerous, it's also sneaky and will reach you even if you think you're avoiding it. Always be mindful and prepared before venturing outside. 

Australia has one of the highest risks of skin cancer in the world. Anyone can be at risk of developing this condition, although the risk increases as we get older. The majority of skin cancers are caused by UV radiation in sunlight. 

For years Anthony's morning routine has included diligently administering sunscreen and wearing long sleeves and pants. His wide-brimmed hat lives at the door ready for him to grab as he leaves home. If only he'd known to do this during his earlier years.

Please people, take note.

Corona Induced Spring Clean ...

Today I chose to extend my otherwise rushed lunch break to sit on our verandah and soak in the welcoming August sun. It was a picture perfect day, the first for a long while.

As I turned to face the inviting rays, I closed my eyes and realised how much I missed the comforting warmth. It felt sublime, and in an instant melted my worrying thoughts into a trance-like stillness. I could have stayed put for hours immersed in what seemed like impenetrable peace.

I've been quietly struggling of late, attempting in disbelief to decipher what on earth is happening to our precious world. It feels so broken, so sombre and surreal. Covid-19 is all-consuming in every direction I turn and I'm constantly attuned to the undeniable heaviness spread across the global board.

The impact corona fear saturates our lives with is heartbreaking, nevertheless I realise how fortunate we continue to be in our beautiful corner of the world. As long as we each keep complying with mandatory restrictions and measures, we will hopefully be spared of clustering or hot-spotting our endearing country paradise.

While I've mindfully concentrated on making the best of my restricted lifestyle, some days I have failed miserably. The abnormality of the situation at times has worn thin and occasionally my thoughts ventured around people, places, events, even climates I miss terribly.

I'm annoyed when I let this happen. Not only does this reflection and longing make me unhappily drag my behind, but I start yearning for a life put on hold. These particular thoughts aren't the slightest bit helpful or supportive of my mental health and have the power to pull me down, immobilising me in a flash.

My life isn't on hold at all and nor would I ever want it to be. Time passes way too quickly regardless of circumstances, and god knows, I'm no spring chicken anymore! I just need to think creatively outside of the square.

Therefore, I decided I do not wish to look back on 2020 and predominantly recall it as the year of an unprecedented, wretched virus. I will remember this significant start to the new decade as the time frame I finally bit the bullet and created significant, long overdue changes to my lifestyle. More so, letting go of undesirable habits and replacing them with health-conscious routines, which I am now successfully battling. It hurts - badly - but the rewards will taste all the more delicious.

Yes, 2020 will be remembered as the year I generated profound, wholistic alterations to my life. I have let go of detrimental patterns, even people to some extent. I am in the process of decluttering and spring cleaning myself and my immediate environment. Perfect, therapeutic activities during isolation.

I am teaching myself a foreign language and I'm allowing more time for my two great loves of reading and writing - without paying attention to the niggling whisper of, "Shouldn't you be working? There is so much to do!"

However, as much as these changes are positive with promised, constructive results, they don't feel meaningful enough to satisfy my contentment hunger. It's too much of 'all about me'.

Once I recognised this missing link, I researched my options of how I could reach out to others less fortunate than I struggling during this difficult corona induced period. I didn't have to look very far! Supporting and offering altruistic assistance gives me joy among the doom and gloom and presents a valid purpose. Now knowing I am making a difference to others, allows me to breathe freely while fully enjoying precious 'me time'.

Making the most of these corona conditions is important to me. I don't wish to waste a single moment and I will not let these unpleasant circumstances overpower me! I will use this time wisely, while quietly hoping for and looking forward to better times sooner rather than later.

This covid-19 pandemic is temporary and since February I've continually assured myself each morning upon waking, "We're another day closer to a new norm." Yet this statement too is wearing thin, as we're just not close enough for my liking. Surely we, the habitants of this globe, have all learnt our lessons by now?! Isn't it time to restart our world minus the devastating virus intruder? I wish it were so.

In the meantime, join me in finding your creative and productive outlets. Discover and act on positivity to camouflage this disruptive year. I honestly thought 2020 was going to be brilliant, as it had such a wonderful ring to it. Never in my wildest dreams did I see covid-19 coming ... but we are stronger. Please remember that always.

Loving Unconditionally ...

Animals and birds seem to be the predominant theme for me this week. If I'm not attempting to rescue a seagull with fishing wire wrapped around it's leg, I'm trying to hustle koalas and echidnas to safety off the middle of main country roads. I even saved a little frog, which found its way indoors! Then there was the native bird, which made a bee-line for my car and sat on my right side mirror for a good five seconds, inspecting it for insects. I hadn't even turned the engine off although I was stationary.

I was parked at the Tarwin Lower jetty to spoil a friend's beautiful horse (with her permission), which is presently homed in a surrounding paddock. I save our left over apples and carrots, a touch past their use by date, for this lovely creature, who eagerly appreciates the extra treats. He sees me coming a mile away and knows exactly what's going on. I miss having a horse in my care, but this is the closest I'll ever have to owning another.

Quite a few years ago, through cancer, I lost a beautiful, chestnut, quarter horse, who was a stunning, strong, muscular twenty-two year old retiree with the most loving, placid nature I had ever encountered. It was such a pleasure to nurture and care for him, and I made sure his retirement was as close to 'horse paradise' as I could offer. He is now buried on our farm beside other precious and missed farm pets.

Being completely heartbroken at the time, a few weeks later my husband surprised me with a rescue horse! I came home from work, on our wedding anniversary, to find an extremely quiet, arthritic, thirty-two year old, quarter horse on death's door. It was a miracle he had survived the one hour float trip to our farm. His aged face wore big, brown, sad eyes, his ribs were protruding terribly and he seemed to lack the energy to even hold up his head. He literally brought me tears.

Sky had worked extremely hard in the cutting arena throughout his life and had been in retirement for many years. He was continuously kept in good condition, residing on beautiful cattle farms, until the drought one summer took its toll and grass became scarce. Sky then proceeded to drop weight reaching a crisis point.

So, there he was, in my care. He wasn't Baldy (who could never be replaced), but this lovely, poor animal needed my help. Immediately I sprung into action! I arranged a vet to come and give him a good check over and I had a dentist assess and file his teeth. Seems there weren't too many chewing teeth left, however senior horse food would give Sky the nourishment he required. I also wormed him and had the farrier visit. I religiously fed Sky three times a day with all the goodness he needed, plus added supplements in an attempt to relieve his arthritic joint discomfort, and I gave him as much affection and attention as I possibly could.

Three months on, Sky already looked magnificent and had gained weight daily. His coat changed to a darker brown color and looked and felt healthy, his hooves had improved immensely and he even rolled regularly, which I was told he would no longer be capable of, due to his age. His tail had grown, after having been continuously nibbled by cattle, and he seemed comfortable and warm wearing his snug, water-proof, winter coat.

However, although I spent as much time as I could with Sky, talking to him, stroking him and offering him trust and friendship, the feeling wasn't mutual. The healthier he became, the less he showed interest in building a relationship with me. The most attention I received was when, through his elderly vision, he spotted me approaching with his feed. Once his feed bucket was on the ground before him, he let me know, in no uncertain terms, I could now leave!

I won't lie. I felt a little upset and disappointed, especially after the special bond I experienced with Baldy. You'd think this animal would have appreciated my effort of bringing him back to life, so to speak. But then I thought, "Hang on, he owes me nothing. Aren't I nursing and caring for him unconditionally? Sky is old and wise and if he doesn't feel like being affectionate, that's his prerogative. Yes, he's cantankerous and stubborn, but so be it. If that's the way he is, then that's the way he is. I need to accept that."

I continued to try and win Sky over in the hope he would one day surprise and meet me half way. In actual fact, by witnessing his daily transformation, I was greatly rewarded for my effort. The most important thing was Sky felt happy, healthy and enjoyed his retirement. He'd certainly done tremendously well to reach his thirty-two years of age, especially with what he had endured, and I couldn't help but have the greatest respect for him.

Then ... in September of 2017 when Sky had turned thirty-four, the unthinkable happened. I watched him horrifically die through the bite of a venomous snake. I knelt in shock and horror powerlessly beside him. I couldn't even comfort or calm him down during his slow, torturous death, as the poison flowed through his adrenaline glands. I immediately called the vet when the snake struck, praying he could be saved, but help arrived five minutes after Sky took his last breath. I was told his death was inevitable.

I will never forget that devastating day and I'm still upset, even angry, Sky departed this world in such a horrendous way after being a fighter all his life. Couldn't he have just closed his eyes and fallen asleep forever more during a nanna nap?

I will never understand.

No more horses for me. I couldn't bear to go through a gut wrenching experience like that again. I am now more than happy to spoil other ponies in my travels, if allowed.

Food For Thought ...

I admit, although I attempt to remain positive, I'm beginning to feel a little emotionally fried. Surely I am not alone as I voice this. These present, pickled life circumstances are dishing out unpleasant, brewing emotions from deep within my core; continuously, quietly churning over. If I don't take action, I feel I may reach boiling point, pending an undesirable melt down.

My measured, anticipated goals are now toast! My plate was excitedly overflowing with dreams I planned to fulfil in the near future, now abruptly squashed. This unforeseen time is a recipe for disaster in its destructive, rippling effect.

The simmering, somber, global energy weighs heavily on universal shoulders and is difficult to digest. Not knowing the conclusion around this serious world crisis stirs up various, debilitating feelings for us all.

However, we must not allow this unpredictability to beat us. By nurturing and protecting ourselves, we simultaneously and respectfully shield others. Furthermore, we can use this time to delve deeply inward and explore our uplifting, god-given gifts and strengths to feed our hungry appetites, now missing precious chunks of normality. These gifts allow us to rise above the constant, singeing heat.

We can infuse gentleness and acceptance into our lives as we skim through our days, deciphering unrealistic pressures whisked up in our seasoned imaginations. Perhaps we could replace these with innovative, spicy undertakings to mix up our daily isolating methods.

We can regularly serve up rainbows of vegetables to treat our households with natural vitamin tablets. We can sweat while creatively exercising in and around our homes, whipping ourselves into better shape. Our immune systems will surely thank us.

We can baste in positivity, between the doom and gloom, found every which way we look if we are open to it, and add tasty tidbits of inspiring, supportive information from assorted, avenues. We can wrap ourselves around interesting hobbies we've always wanted to pursue, waiting in the background for the right time. Isn't the right time now?

My yearning for travel has eased somewhat as I knead my brain, saturating my learning cells with a foreign language. When travel recommences, I hope to be prepared, ready to be mildly grilled by my Indonesian friends, whom I miss terribly.

Let's peel away such raw layers as fear, impatience and loneliness, even those difficult to swallow, and render all that doesn't serve us emotionally. We are not cooked yet, not even close. This present, normal grind will not reduce us to defeat. Our zest for life will overcome this unforeseeable phase.

Let's quench our longing thirst for the norm with daily dollops of goodness and absorb the delicious aromas of gratitude, for we have so much to be thankful for.

Let us strive to be safe with blended empathy for ourselves and others and saute the unfavourable feelings with a grain of salt, allowing them to steam into oblivion.

We can inventively replace or mould the parts of our deferred life into a colorful banquet, while mindfully nourishing the remaining, unchanged aspects even more.

Let us intentionally transform adversity into opportunity ...

Unitedly We Stand ...

It's been over five months since covid-19 reared it's ugly, erratic head in Australia. It was on my birthday we were informed of the precedented, vicious, virus swells rolling in across our shores.

A surreal pandemic nightmare.

Truth be known, a pandemic was so far removed from my mind, I'd never even heard of the word and had to look it up as it splashed over every media outlet!

At first the details of this rampant infection were difficult to comprehend until there was word of suddenly thousands of folk from all walks of life dropping to their knees in pain. That's when it hit home!

The pandemic suddenly transformed from a nightmare to a very real, shocking, tangible and frightening reality felt all over the world.

Hospitals inundated to full capacities attempting to save and heal their own, while over half a million patients worldwide have sadly succumbed to horrific, excruciating fatalities thus far. The ripple effect is unimaginable.

The world was and still is in turmoil, now in the midst of a second, gutwrenching flood presently prominent in our own Victorian state.

I often sit on my verandah, within my farm bubble, listening to the beautiful, poetic sounds of nature. If I wasn't informed of the severity of our state's unrest, I honestly wouldn't know any different.

The school bus still ventures down our long gravel road at precisely 4.15pm each week day, the digger sounding in the distance continues its daily work on our neighbouring farm and the grader is patching up our road's pot holes as I write.

A very different scenario to the families cooped up in Melbourne highrise apartments anxiously fretting.

We are so lucky in South Gippsland. We're in a sparsely populated area and relatively safe compared to densely inhabited city suburbs.

If we unitedly continue to look after ourselves and eachother by adhering to the non travel rules, the social distancing measures and enhanced hygiene practices, we will be playing our part to prevent the damaging virus from spreading into our precious community.

The advice remains that physical distancing, regular hand washing and refraining from touching your face is the best defence against covid-19.

Let's individually and collectively stop this unwelcome, devastating virus in it's tracks. There is no reason we can't, and please remember to continue to be kind.