Catfacehorse

Once again, I am participating in Meet me at Mikes Words and Pictures write-along.

As a kid, I loved making little things. Little loaves of bread from cut up corks, little painted pictures for the walls of my doll house (made for us by my dad - a square house for me, a triangular one for my sister). I also made lots of little books - one was entitled ‘Rid the Flat’, and was about a world-travelling cat called Rid, who meets with an unfortunate end. This booklet is sadly in Tasmania at my parents house still, so will have to be shared another day. I did find another booklet however - the slightly less imaginatively titled ‘Holiday Booklet’.

Click through to view on Flickr, I have put in little notes about the story.

When Meet me at Mikes had an open invitation to share stories about school lunches, I thought I would join in too. There are so many gorgeous, hilarious stories, if you can, you should read every one. A few of my favourites are Pip’s of Meet me at Mikes, Claire’s of Loobylu, and Nanette’s of Rummage.

For several years, when I was too little to make my own lunch, my mum had me on a really healthy diet. When the other kids in my class had white bread sandwiches in clingwrap, I had soda bread in greaseproof paper. Where they had Tiny Teddies and Le Snaks, I had banana chips or carob. I would dread the sound of ‘eeeeuw, what’s that?’ as the other kids would peer into my lunch box. I craved Tiny Teddies, but I didn’t have anything that I could reasonably get anyone else to eat to swap for those precious little biscuits.

Once every eternity though, I was allowed a ‘lunch order’. The lunch order was a white paper bag printed with the canteen menu on the, with boxes to tick. I would put my coins in the bag, and off the bag would go with the lunch monitor. (Like Pip, I never knew what happened then - it was a deeply mysterious process.) The bags would come back filled at lunch time, change rolling around in the bottom.  I remember eating my  party pie and sausage roll on the deck outside the class room - every single time dropping my straw between the slats so I had to drink my lime flavoured mineral water straight from the can.

Now,  I would love soda bread for lunch but I rarely get around to cooking it. I am so impressed that I had these lunches made from scratch for me every day - thanks Mum!

It has slowly dawned on me that the more I get my hands stuck into making things, the more I feel like myself. I spent my childhood making tiny wombats out of clay, building miniature mud-brick houses by the dam and inventing elaborate games of ‘Bush Barbie’ with my sister.

Since then, there has been a long, empty gap. I worked for a few years before university in admin for a theatre company, and then spent several years totally immersed in my media and communications degree. The last year has felt like slowly coming out of some sort of coma. The only problem is that I have woken up to find myself in an unfulfilling job, twiddling my thumbs in the public service. The light is at the end of the tunnel, I have been paying my dues in order to get into an exciting job in a few months, but I have learned my lesson. I need more.

This blog is a way of bringing back that person who loved to get stuck in wholeheartedly, even (and especially) if it meant getting covered in mess from head to toe.

This isn’t a blog that has a settled identity - it is not an art blog, a cooking blog, a craft blog or a spill-your-guts blog (although I hope there will be a bit of each). It is just me and my partner Owen, sharing our attempts to live more creatively. To feel more like ourselves, and to have fun doing it.