As if on cue, the editor of ABC’s site Ramp Up, Stella Young has published a fantastic article demonstrating the ‘wicked sense of humour’ to which I referred in Dating Disability Style. The first gives the ‘darkness’ of Andrew’s discrimination claim again the suicide hot spot “The Gap” a run for it’s money. She writes:
The other Christmas tradition I think we could perhaps tinker with in the name of increasing access is our old friend the turkey. So far, I’ve gotten away with going home for Christmas and having my lovely Mum cook the turkey but now that I’m a grown up, it’ll eventually be my turn to host Christmas and do the lunch. As I mentioned, I’m kind of small. The turkey is, as birds go, one of the more humongous ones. Hoofing a meal that’s weighs about the same as you into an oven is no mean feat and I’m a bit frightened of doing a Sylvia Plath.
The second, is a comment sparked by this line of the article:
I’ve noticed that the increased amount of people in shopping centres can have some extra consequences for wheelchair users. There are more people to interrupt you while you’re waiting in ludicrously long queues to ask what’s wrong with you.
The first time I was out with Andrew and a complete stranger came up to him and said ‘what happened to you?’ I was completely taken aback. Now I know that it does happen. Andrew, to date, hasn’t had the best come back lines, offering up a rather lame ‘I fell over’. He needs to take a leaf out of stella’s book:
I was asked that question a couple of days ago while at lunch with a friend. My response: “I just got soy sauce on my favourite top.”
If you want a good belly chuckle, head over to Stella’s article: Have yourself an accessible little Christmas. Priceless.
While I’ve been racing to the end of the year, Alice has been patiently waiting in my living room. Every now and then I pay her some attention before she returns to being in limboland. I’m hoping that over this Christmas break, Alice will get some of the attention she deserves.
Of course, the answers to a few key questions need to materialise; namely what should I do with that floating owl’s head? I don’t suppose I could claim it was a Cheshire owl?
The ‘blocks’ between the owl and Alice also bother me; as does the fact the cream block lines up with her skirt. I can hear John Salminen from one of my creative catalyst DVDs saying: ‘if they line up, that would be predictable, and predictable would be boring.’ Tedious is hardly a quality I would normally link to Alice; precocious more like.
Perhaps I should swipe out most of those shapes on the right hand side (beneath the owl but above the dragon) and replace them with…? A racoon? Panda? Porcupine? Snow Leopard or, if I want to be particularly dark, an unkindness of ravens? Then again, maybe abandoning animals in favour of food is a better idea. A toffee apple, some bullseyes, a Brandy Alexander or a beetroot?
If you are thinking I have no idea, you would be quite right. This is probably why Alice has lived in limboland for so long. She has reached the 80% stage. I have filled behind the couch with canvasses nearly all of which have reached the 80% stage. There’s something about that final 20% that is so difficult. Actually, now that I think about it, many things in my life are at the 80% stage. There’s a number of sewing projects; the knitted scarf, the preparations for my February road trip, the de-clutter the filing project and, the most recent effort, the clean my desk at work project! I wonder whether I have an aversion to 85% or 90% and most certainly 100. Why are these numbers so difficult to achieve? I think it’s a lack of goal setting on my behalf. When I have a deadline at work, more often than not, I reach it. Despite the realisation goal setting helps, I fail to apply it to my personal life. Maybe I need a few of those 80% projects to rally together; to form a mob with pitchforks in hand, demanding I reconcile my differences with mister 90%. If the knitting needles decided to propel themselves across the room in a last ditch effort to get my attention, I daresay I’d take notice (or question whether someone spiked my apple juice).
Before I leave off this Christmas day post, it would not be complete without including a brief cat reference. Andrew was particularly clever and managed to combine cats and art into my Christmas present. He got me this fantastic little ‘art mannequin’ – cat style! I love the way I can tilt his head to give him that quizzical look cats so often employ. Thank you 4, a perfect gift for me!