Hello, lil' doggy

This cute little one appeared at our feet when I was having a seafood picnic (standing up, but still very enjoyable) with Sai and Carol on their holiday. The full force of pleading puppy-dog eyes was unleashed on us, but we stood strong.

Love your work?

"My life's work was exactly what I was best suited to do. I loved what I did. It fascinated me." (Hudson Southwell)

How many of us will get to 70 and be able to say this truthfully?

When I have the time to get on my don't-waste-your-life-in-a-job-you-hate soapbox, I'll write more about career satisfaction. Right now, I think I should focus on heading home from the counselling centre while I can do it on foot, not by swimming.

What moves me

Two videos found over the past two days, a very sedentary weekend of not even being able to shimmy along to the Bollywood-meets-Austen extravaganza Bride and Prejudice, in order to give bruised head a rest.

Saturday: Interlude Dance Troupe's lyrical dance to Superchick's 'Beauty From Pain' at 2007's Kidz Take Kontrol. It's things like this that remind me: when words fail us, we still have dance.



Sunday: The arrangement sounds good and I liked the originals of both songs, but what gets me every time I watch this clip is the joy each of them finds in their music; once again, something beyond words. I miss that feeling. Thank you Miss C, teacher who succeeded in grooming me from unwilling ABRSM exam candidate into lifelong piano lover, for sending me this link.

Concussed. Again.

Things were looking hazy, too hazy for my liking, and I decided to get a professional opinion on the consequences of two recent head traumas. I'd thought they were minor, just lie-back-for-five-minutes-and-you'll-be-fine things.

The verdict: "Concussion, whiplash. Again. We're giving you a helmet for Christmas."

My doctor speaks tongue in cheek, but behind the quip I know is genuine concern for me and a hope that I will stop unintentionally hurting myself. I don't even know why these things keep happening; it isn't as if I'm deliberately careless, one of those self-loathing types who inflict a non-stop stream of "accidents" upon themselves. I don't understand the question "Why do you keep doing these things?", which is what some people ask me when they hear of the latest episode. I resist the urge to pull out another of my sarcastic comebacks like, "Because it feels so good to stop," because I am just as sick of them as I am of the injuries. I will only ever have this one brain and I would like it, from now on, to have a safe and trouble-free existence in which to co-ordinate life as I know it.

Beside quiet waters

Wentworth Falls Lake, New South Wales

Tired housemates, prime-time TV. Do not mix.

A, reacting to a Medium trailer on TV: Hey, she's gained so much weight.

B: You think?

A: Yeah, definitely.

B: Maybe she's trying to become a Large.