2010

Dear hearts,

2010. Totally Capital number worthy. Very auspicious.

Miss Christine has just informed me that it is the year of the Tiger. Miss Mich is a hungry tiger, being born at 6 in the am. I have a good feeling about this new year Dear hearts. Look out...

I have decided, after discussion with Miss Christine, that it is also the Year of being Brave. We have decided that we are not pussy footing around anymore. Oh no...put that cat bell away and bring out the whip and chair (this for Miss Mich and the Libertine...obvi..)

I encourage you Dear hearts, to also be brave. Take the big cat by the tail and meet those challenges that have been on your list all last year. Miss Mich has several for sure and feels encouraged to move forward ...

On Miss Mich's universal list of things to accomplish in 2010 we find the following:

World Peace ...obvi
Say what you mean and mean what you say
Be a straight (or gay) shooter. Either way don't manipulate or play games
Play games...sport sport sport
Trust – the big issue for Miss Mich at the end of 09, but she is getting there
Faith. Have faith in yourself and the rest will follow
Cut back on the cherry tomato addiction. Those in the know, know
But what to replace it with? All suggestions gratefully accepted
Did I mention sport?
Get that pony. I swear it's been on the list since I gave up Jordie
Love...obvi

The list is just a starting point. You may add your own goals and dip into the list yourselves. Here at the cottage we have a wise and gracious Buddha, facing east of course. At the beginning of each year the bright young things and I put a scroll under his benevolent arm with our wish for the year. The strike rate so far is excellent. I suggest to you Dear hearts, that you find your own deity, make your application, and if your wish is true and the universe sees fit, you may be surprised.

There is nothing like a new beginning. We have the opportunity to start afresh. We get to remake the rules for ourselves and consolidate our positions. For Miss Mich the more athletic the position, the better. Sport aside, think about what you truly wish to achieve in 2010.

And remember, we are our own greatest assets.

Enjoy the new year.

With love and all its potential
Miss Mich

Lovesong

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich is on holidays...and not a moment too soon. The last thing I want is to get tetchy with you my loves, and we were getting perilously close. The Bright Young Things have been feeling the sharp edge of my tongue and there is a certain chicken who was oh so close to hearing the truth as I see it...mercifully the 23rd came along and all were released from the potential of Miss Mich's somewhat acerbic point of view.

Patience.

Not only am I giving P the capital letter it deserves, I am giving it a stand alone paragraph. Such is the esteem in which I hold said virtue. All because, of course, I do not possess it. Is Patience the same as Tolerance? Surely they are related. Nelson Mandela would not have survived all those years in jail without the tag team of both. Same with that Burmese chick under house arrest all these years. How stupid are both those ridiculous and unconscionable situations. All that Winnie Mandela....Miss Mich must confess to getting Winnie confused with Aretha. Am I right though? You know I am...Respect to both obvi...And don't get me started on the exiled Dalai Lama...

Political internment aside, Miss Mich is thinking more of emotional internment. Hard to corral a beating heart, Dear hearts. You can only rope 'em so much. The heart is going to bust out and do something crazy as the baby would say. Different to psycho obvi...All because, of course, that emotion does not rhyme with tempered. Passionate maybe. I'm sure there is a Ted Hughes poem that puts heart and passion and possibly something in the extreme in the same stanza. In fact, if the print out on my fridge does not lie...

Where do I start...

Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love knot

I could go on, well Ted could... but then I would need to bite and scratch and push and pull just like Ted. And that may not be viewed as nice in polite company. And Miss Mich is nothing if not nice. Especially in polite company...

Given the afore mentioned, Miss Mich is in the process of learning Patience. Not easy, Dear hearts. It's one thing to wait for the pony on the list for Santa...

It's a bit of a Zen thing really, and when Miss Mich puts it in those terms, she can almost sell it to herself. Maybe the best approach is to knock herself out for a prescribed period of time, wake up refreshed, 3 kilos lighter and the prize in her lap...everybody would be happy and we could all go home.

I keep telling myself Patience is good. It really is. But to be honest, I actually value Tenacity above Patience. How long is one going to sit around and wait for Patience to grant you your wish. At least with Tenacity, one has the opportunity to work oneself towards the prize. With Tenacity, we have the option to take the responsibility on ourselves. I fear with Patience, it is up to some other force to grant or not...

In Miss Mich's world, her money is on herself, not some ephemeral and capricious sense of justice that may or may not grant said wish. And when a pony is on the line,Dear hearts, Miss Mich is not prepared to take any chances.

Enjoy Sunday.

With love entwined (thank you Ted)
Miss Mich

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Dear hearts,

Over a bowl of steaming soup in our favourite Asian palace, Tinkerbell and Miss Mich were musing on the proclivities of the various Charms in our lives. Both present and past.

We could only refer to them as The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Bearing in mind that the really, really good looking ones could be ugly, we moved on from looks alone…

It is unfortunate for Miss Mich that she has had one of those weeks where the bad and the ugly from her past have reared their said ugly heads. It is not often that Miss Mich gets really cross and maybe she is tired. It has been a long year sharing the pen love, mentoring the chickens and living with the Bright Young Things in the cottage that feels like a share house at the moment.

We did in fact end up laughing about who was good, laughing about who was bad and laughing about who was ugly. If you can’t laugh….

Miss Mich wishes she could share with you some of the stories exchanged. Suffice to say the little wontons were spinning in their broth as we upped the ante with each new wish on our respective Charm’s lists. I must make the disclaimer that some of the acts performed really do defy both gravity and the laws of decency and all I have to say on the matter is dirty sanchez…

Sport aside, the point must be made that whether one is a Charm on someone’s bracelet of experience, an active partner in any kind of arrangement, or just a passing ship in the night, there is a basic code of conduct. It is disappointing that some Charms do not subscribe to this. This is why, Dear hearts, Miss Mich resists the “r” word, has decided to go back under the cloak and has put that sorry bracelet at the very back of the underwear drawer where it shall remain.

As much as Miss Mich loves words, one can speak all you like. It is our actions that reveal who we are and what we stand for. Even though Miss Mich has finished with the Charms, it seems one of the Charms has still not finished with her. 10 points if you can guess who…That thorn in the side, that unfortunate ill mannered and I hate to say it, but low class experience is clearly going to need a few more lives before he evolves up the spiritual ladder. It is perhaps Miss Mich’s penance from a former life that she must be the one to show the way to this errant disappointment. As MM has said, do not destroy the goodwill that remains in memory. We must not erode the good that we leave behind. Remember this Dear hearts. Getting nasty achieves nothing but the assurance that the nasty will come back to visit you. The classic, what goes around comes around.

Make no mistake, Miss Mich is very determined to teach the lesson that is needed here. And she will. The universe and the Libertine will see to that.

Enjoy Sunday.

With love and discipline
Miss Mich

The Library

Dear hearts,

The Libertine has put forward the idea of the body and mind as a library. Miss Mich for one, loves the concept and has decided to embrace it and take up a membership.

When you think about it, we are a body of work. Literally and metaphorically. This is right up Miss Mich's Cannery Row.

We are like books on a bookshelf. Some open, some dusty. Some closed, never to be understood. On the subject of books closed, Sha ron Morrie and Miss Mich do need to make it public that our friendship books are perilously close to being full…and don’t even ask about our dance cards…

I would like to concentrate for a moment on the idea of borrowing. I have been in discussion of late about the nature of give and take in a relationship. Miss Mich must take the stand here to proclaim just how much she hates the word relationship. It is never satisfactory in my view. Notice it does not qualify for Capital letter worthy status. I am happy to relate. Relate all you like. Have relations. I prefer to call a shag a shag myself. But the term “relationship” conjours up, in my experience, coercion, manipulation, liberty taken and the grey area that a relationship is not one thing or another. One always has a back door with a relationship. There are no balls required.

Back to give and take and the concept of borrowing. It has been Miss Mich’s experience, up until now, that the sperm donor and the Charms all presented themselves as giving. It must be said that they did in fact give much to Miss Mich and yes, she will always be grateful. The disclaimer here is, Dear hearts, is, that it was given with an agenda in mind. Whether the sperm donor or the charms would admit it or not, the fact remains that MM served many a purpose to many a charm. A price was always extracted. Miss Mich has felt the deficit in her emotional and financial credits, don’t you worry. Hence her reticence when it comes to the “r” word.

The Libertine put himself at the front of the pack when he proposed to “borrow” some positive energy. Miss Mich was immediately interested and made up a library card that very moment. Kept by the side of the bed, it is a “ready reckoner” of bits visited, energy exchanged and ideas put forward. There is even the option of extending the lending period, revisiting previous points of interest with the promise of greater understanding and appreciation. Miss Mich, as you can imagine, is all for thorough investigation and the tenacity of getting things right…Again and again. Miss Mich loves multiples. Especially when it comes to sport…obvi.

Miss Mich likes to think of giving without the taking part, In this instance she is not of the yin yang opinion. More the tantric path of a circular exchange. Give and you get. Not give and you take. Giving with the aim of just giving is extraordinary. Altruism of the heart, Dear hearts. Let us embrace this little darling and see the difference it makes. One immediately relaxes, knowing the the giver is not going to end up an Indian and as a result, ends up giving more in return.

Enjoy Sunday.

Love without a cost.
Miss Mich

Dear M

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has been reflecting on a conversation with her favourite Aide de Camp, Ms LA.

It appears one her closest confidants, we shall call her M, is struggling with a few curly issues of her own.

Aren’t we all Dear heart. Aren’t we all. Having the hard won experience she has, Miss Mich feels she is in a position to advise M of several key points she needs to keep in mind. These apply to us all Dear hearts, so stay with me...

In the great Zen Buddhist tradition, nothing lasts forever. Nothing is more true. Think of everything you have ever done, good or bad. Eventually it comes to an end. It is over. A bummer when it comes to great sex or a good book. Relief when it comes to the gynecologist or the magistrates court.

Leading on from that is Change. Totally Capital letter worthy. The net result of things coming to an end is Change. Despite what you may think at the time, change is the force that helps us to grow. Makes us look beyond ourselves. It can be brutal and give us no choice but to be adaptable and creative. It hurts, but let me tell you M, at the end of the day, you will look back and realise it was the Universe pointing you in the right direction.

Guilt. I don't want to hear about it. And yet, we all suffer from it. Guilt is the demon of religion, the most manipulative of the emotions. And used for evil by most Popes, Dictators and definitely Miss Mich's mother. But that is another story. For you Dear M, I urge you to stay away from that nasty piece of goods that is guilt. You are on a hiding to nowhere and guilt will not thank you for accommodating it's sorry arse. In the wise words of a bumper sticker I first saw in the 80's...Shit happens. And there is nothing you can do about it.Whether you caused it or it came to you, the best thing you can do is just get on with it and do the best you can without beating yourself up.

Which segue ways beautifully to love. Love thyself. Literally, if you have an appliance, and metaphorically if you still have a heart. It goes without saying that if you love and value yourself, then others will follow. If the opposite is how you treat yourself, then you can only expect the same in kind. Miss Mich's legal eagle made quite the point when he told MM in one of her dark moments, that it is because of who you are that people will either be kind or otherwise. Who you are is a direct reflection of how you see yourself.

Forgiveness. A tricky one I admit. Miss Mich struggles herself with a few choice players in her journey, but tries her best to turn the other cheek. Especially difficult when what she really wants to do is slap the opponents cheek...(MM refers herself to her previous tete e tete on work in progress...) Miss Mich’s anger management issues aside, I advise you M, to work on forgiveness. Forgive yourself first, obvi. Once you have done that you can move on and forgive others. It helps with acceptance and makes for a clear head and clean beginning.

The last little word of wisdom I have is Trust. Trust yourself and your belly. You know how Miss Mich feels about this. I feel it is particularly relevant here dear M. If we close our eyes and just feel, you will know the path to take. I now feel compelled to ask you to snatch the pebble from my hand and call you Grasshopper, or am I channeling David Carradine again?

Kung Fu aside M, I do hope this is helpful to you.

No doubt Ms LA will have something to say, no doubt she will…

Enjoy Monday and a little self confidence.

With love M
Miss Mich

Breath

Dear hearts,

Breath.

I just love the sound of the word. I just love it. I can breathe it in, I can breathe it out.

It is totally Capital letter worthy. For without it, where are we? Blue perhaps. Breathless obvi. Swooning…Certainly without the spark of life.

All those gorgeous expressions. “every breath you take” take my breath away””hold your breath” “a breath of fresh air” “catch your breath” I could go on…

Breath heralds our entrance into and our departure from this life. That first breath, the last gasp. I have seen them both, and let me tell you Dear hearts, there is not much more powerful to witness. The first seems to come as an indignant wail and the last, a terrible surprise. Extraordinary.

Breath is seductive, don’t you think? Our breath quickens when we are expectant, frightened or aroused. It reveals our anticipation, along with our heart rate no doubt. But it is our breath that betrays us. In the dark, when there is only touch to navigate, breath becomes the compass that guides the hands. The little sighs, the sharp intake that says yes, or in some cases, the breath held and then released is the only way forward.

And then there are hiccups. Not as pleasing as a sneeze, which I always think of as natures baby o. A pleasant little interruption that takes me a moment to recover from, relaxes me and always makes me wish for more…Piglet understands. Back to hiccups. This is the breath out of sync. And just when you thought they had passed, one always catches you off guard, and off you go again. ..

As a child it was our game to hold our breath and swim the length of the pool under water. If you were bold, and it was the end of summer and you had practiced all holidays, it would be two lengths of the pool. I still love diving down and then slowly coming up to the surface watching the light and the sky from a watery, fluid perspective. Where you force your breath to wait as you linger in a world that is not your natural territory. If you linger too long you begin to see stars and your ear drums start to sing.

And then there is sharing breath. Not something one does with just anyone. For Miss Mich, she shared her breath with her babies of course. Nothing is sweeter than a baby’s milky breath and innocent smell. In Miss Mich’s former life, her white Arab Jordie had the sweetest green grass breath. Gelded late, Jordie had the attitude and build of a stallion. On the ground he was a lamb. Jump on his back and it became a battle of wills that ended up the compromise of faithful companion and not the show horse. I respected him for that to be honest. He followed me everywhere. 14 hands of faithful equine handsomeness. When the wind picked up, and he took off and we all had the devil in us, his tail streamed out behind him, his neck arched beautifully and he would toss his mane arrogantly. He had a terrible ego, but he was breathtakingly good looking..Miss Mich has found one actual boy with breath nearly as good as Jordie’s. A rare thing, Dear hearts, and as a result, precious.

Lastly, I leave you with the breath of the Tantra. The yoga breath. The breath that is circular. Used in sport, this will take your breath away, give it to your partner, who will in turn give it back to you so that you see the stars and the moon and all the little fishy’s and whatever it is that you see when you go…Miss Mich holds her breath and then when she lets go…she is gone…

Enjoy Wednesday.

With breathless love
Miss Mich

Reason v Instinct...or Red or Green Frogs

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has a very special relationship with her belly. The Bright Young Things filled it to the top (big babies all) for three consecutive years. It bears, even now, the lightning strikes of broken tissue where they grew and lolled around enjoying their time suspended. Sending out their signals to me with the occasional little foot or elbow waving just to say hello. It is very noisy, also, making its digestive presence felt at every turn of the clock, not just when it is empty.

My belly is an integral player on Miss Mich’s sporting team. Without those muscles the highs and little cries (and surprises) would be so much quieter. I have lost count as to how many times those little abs have taken the MVP award at the end of a long and boisterous event.

Just as importantly, Miss Mich’s belly is the home of her Instinct. The place where her impulse and intuition speaks the loudest (along with those gastric gurgles). If Miss Mich listens, the answers are there and invariably right. Notice I said if…

Sometimes Miss Mich gets sidetracked by Reason and dismisses the noises in her belly as mere cries for food…not consideration. This could be simply described as Head v Heart. Age old battle nest pas? Imagine the football game. Head would be green and have Pele as Captain. Heart would be red..obvi..and have as its errant Capitan George Best. I suspect David Beckham would be on the red team as well. He has great instinct and don’t get me started on his abs…just as long as he doesn’t open his mouth.

You see, Reason is getting in the way and distracting me by having me come to, and explain my conclusions. With my better friend Instinct, I would be already on my way to the TAB to put my money on red…

Reason has its place, Dear hearts. I am not suggesting it does not. Academically, as a noun, Reason is one of my absolute favourite Capital letter worthy subjects. If you subscribe to Kant, Reason is intellect personified. On paper I agree. Kant also puts forward the argument that God and Reason are one. Personally, I think that is a bit of a stretch. Without Reason we are without the ability to come to a logical conclusion. Reason and facts go together, that’s why lawyers love reason. I bet they love green frogs as well..

It’s a bit like the survey I have been loosely conducting. Red or Green Frogs? So much is revealed by your choice. Miss Mich, it goes without saying, is a red frog girl. Most of Miss Mich’s closest confidents are red frog people. I could even go as far as to say that I think twice about a green frog person. Are you sure? Would you like to think about it? …

Back to my belly. It could be described as many things. My inner compass steering the good ship MM. My internal water diviner…again, a bit of a stretch, but, you know.. go with the flow, trust your waters…Seriously though, if you look at the meaning of Instinct as described in the Concise Oxford: Innate propensity to certain seemingly rational acts performed without conscious intention. Or like Nike says: “Just do it”. It is I must confess my preferred way to navigate this life.

I have saved the most special service my belly provides me until last. The gift of warmth that is where love lives in me. It is a little spot in a secret space that radiates and spreads. I just need to listen and trust it.

I leave you with the wisdom of Mr Kenny Rogers.

Know when to hold ‘em
Know when to fold ‘em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run…

You can decide that Dear hearts by choosing to have the red or the green frog…

Enjoy the choice.

Love
Miss Mich

Trinity Circle

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich loves living in the Cottage. We all know this. Earl Hill provides the loveliest sunrises and sunsets, the Sunbirds and butterflies. And the darling Wobbalies as the baby calls them. We watch the little families wander in from the rainforest each afternoon and graze on the lawns. We have seen the little joeys jump in and out of the female’s pouch, with legs overflowing and little ears twitching. The Buck likes to laze around and just watch the family, whilst the female does her mothering. Anyone could recognise the dynamics of the universal family structure. It is one of Miss Mich’s great delights to have all of this community going on around her.

Did I mention the snakes? The Big House was more than once home to various rainforest snakes. Apparently the Tree snakes are harmless. The Pythons, I’m not so sure. Despite being an urban girl from the harbourside suburbs of Sydney, Miss Mich did in fact deal rather well with these reptilian discoveries. BBQ tongs and gardening gloves dealt with the Tree snakes, after all, they were only a metre or so long - back to the rainforest with you. The Python that chose to shed its skin in the guest pavilion is one mother I would not like to have met. 2.4metres of scaly overcoat was left as a calling card to say thanks for having me. The fact that the eyes have a covering of film over them, even in the cast off skin, made the whole thing very spooky. Miss Mich felt as though the ghostly evil twin had been left behind.

Last night was a meeting of reptile and marsupial worlds that Miss Mich wishes had never occurred. There we were - the ABC, a fresh glass of white and yours truly. The Bright Young Things had decamped to Tinaroo for the Inaugral Tin Olympics, so it was a clean house and a quiet night of contemplation ahead.

Until there was this awful sound coming from the lawn of the cottage..

Miss Mich went out to discover the biggest, patterned kick arse snake wrapped around a little female wallaby. The Buck was busy being the protector he is and attempting to free his woman by beating the slimy interloper with his back legs, all the while emitting these extraordinary primal grunts. MM was of course, horrified.

After consultation via text, with the Libertine, it was clear there was little Miss Mich could do. The sweet girl, by this time, was dead, the snake still tightly coiled around her. The Buck took up position on the slope and with a menacing and dirge like rhythm, beat his tail against the ground. Miss Mich felt like she was on a battle ground. The Buck went in one more time to try and release his mate. So determined, so warrior like.

Miss Mich is aware she anthropomorphizing these animals to a ridiculously sentimental extent. But it was Saturday night and I was on my own. I was watching The Bill for Gods sake.

After making sure all was well in Sun Hill, Miss Mich went out for one final survey of the scene. The sentinel himself was still there watching over her. He stayed on point for some hours. Miss Mich roamed the house, not able to settle, and each time she looked over the balcony the reflection of his eyes caught her and let her know he was still there.

Miss Mich, when she did sleep, had strange and disturbing dreams of animals and pets. Past and present.

This morning shows me the little body on the drive.

I cannot say enjoy Sunday.

With Sadness
Miss Mich

The Last Charm

Dear Hearts,

The last Charm. After this, we shall never have the need to refer to him again.

I have decided this is to be the last Charm. I am done with the need to have trinkets hanging off my wrist. I am putting the bracelet in the back of my underwear drawer with all of the very necessary experience that they have all afforded me. With gratitude and thanks.

Out of all the Charms, the last one has left the most visible mark. Good and not so good.

Melbourne Cup is a dangerous day to be out and about Dear hearts. The members’ marquee at Royal Randwick Racecourse provided the ideal opportunity to amuse oneself with Miss Mich’s best ever girlfriends and the movers and shakers of the Eastern suburbs. Clearly the last charm did what he does best and charmed his way onto one of the best and loosest tables by the winning post.

Miss Mich was perhaps touched a little by the sun despite her big picture hat and with the resounding endorsement of her darling friends was somewhat taken with the green eyes, black hair and olive skin. So began what can only be described as the making of Miss Mich. Good and not so good.

The attraction was good. Seriously good. The addiction of said charm to Miss Mich, in the end, was not.

Before it all went seriously south, things could not have been better. Miss Mich was feeling like a 16 year old, hanging out, laughing, playing pool (badly) and reacquainting herself with a certain Mary Jane and her fresh friend Marguerita. Then came Miss Mich. Seriously.

The move to the far far north is, along with the new tricks picked up on the way by far the best thing that has ever happened to MM. The Bright Young Things agree that indeed, we live in paradise.

Living in the Big House, as we have discussed, was sublime and Trinity Beach will forever be Miss Mich’s true spiritual home. “Her country”; to put it into the words of the traditional owners.

Make no mistake, Dear hearts, the Last Charm was fun to be with. He helped Miss Mich to channel her inner child. Helped her rediscover her cheeky side and sang and danced naked with her on the terrace under many a full moon. There were quite a few firsts with him, none of which we can speak of in polite company, but suffice to say that Miss Mich’s experience is broader and better as a result.

If only he had used his charm for good and not evil…

Certain liaison’s have a use by date. One should, in a grown up world, accept such a determination, remain civil if not friends, and carry on…The last charm had other ideas. He proceeded to make as much trouble for Miss Mich as he possibly could. Some of it was school boy stuff and some of it required legal intervention. All of it was at the least tiresome and at the worst, terrifying. Miss Mich is now quite adept at representing herself (along with a little Legal Eagle assistance) in the court room. She has her own personal detective on speed dial (just in case) and the local constabulary wave and exchange pleasantries on a first name basis as they cruise past the cottage just to make sure all is well.

You can imagine, then, why Miss Mich has decided to pop that bracelet away. Charms can be both whimsical and wicked. And not always in a good way.

Weighing it all up, Dear hearts, Miss Mich has the benefit of taking with her the tricks learned and making them even better. The last charm, as it has turned out, has just been a starting point…there is no limit to what one can achieve. Stay tuned…

Miss Mich now also has the confidence to make her own decisions, live on her own and choose if and when and more importantly, with whom she wishes to play. That is good.

We are all a work in progress, Dear hearts. Remember that. Good and not so good.

Enjoy Thursday.

With love
Miss Mich

A Little White Wisdom

Dear hearts,

It’s Friday night. Miss Mich finds herself at home sharing the evening with your sweet selves and a cheeky little West Australian Classic Dry White. The Bright Young Things are respectively out and about. The songbird is just finishing a gig at Prince Charming’s Ever After Café, whilst the baby is heading out for the last night available to disgrace herself at Schoolies. God love them both. My darling Boy is treating himself to a birthday weekend of no doubt monumental proportions. After all, it’s not every birthday you leave your teens behind..

The aforementioned West Australian White, not to be confused with the NZ White, (don’t ever…this one in the bottle has far more intelligence than the other), and I were just discussing the Capital letter worthy subject of One’s own True Nature. Bit of a mouthful I know, but try and stay with me…(I’ll type slowly)

We have discussed in this very forum the different sides to ourselves and the faces we show at any one time. That is not to say, though, that there is not a common thread no matter the face, no matter the situation. One would hope that even if you are Eleanor Rigby or one of Picasso’s women, one’s true nature would prevail. Take the earnest Chameleon, it’s not that it chooses to confuse, wants to deceive. Just has to. To survive. Still the same slightly stunned looking reptile, just trying to make it’s way in the world. Like us all Dear hearts..like us all.

Someone once said to me, and I cannot for the life of me remember who, that you cannot deny your true nature. I find it interesting that I cannot remember who shared this little pearl with me. I have carried it around for a really long time. It’s one of the mantra’s in my pocket. Along with” let it go”, “just one more cocktail” and Julie King’s gem “take yourself out of the centre of the universe”. Ms Morgan King must also take credit for “you are not unique” and “cup of tea Darl?” I love her to bits and always will. Too many cups of tea around her Bellevue Hill kitchen table have sorted my life and the mysteries of the world.

Back to one’s true nature. I happen to think that no matter what, at the end of the day, one is one’s self. Recognisable. Of a flavour and character that is despite my darling Jule’s admonishment..unique. In her defence, she refers to situations. Not character.

By recognising and being true to one’s nature, we can make the big decisions with integrity. We can be non negotiable on certain subjects. We can have confidence that when we take a stand, we mean it. That our friends can depend on us and our children can have faith in us. And at the end of the day we can live with ourselves and believe. In ourselves.

The West Australian White wholeheartedly concurs and makes the point that you can take the White out of West Australia, but never the West Australia out of the White…

D’accor Dear hearts.

Enjoy the weekend.

With a little white love
Miss Mich

I need to tell you something...

Dear hearts,

Need. Needy. Needful.

Can of worms, Dear hearts.,, can of worms.

We can begin with Maslow’s Hierarchy. Easy peasy.

We are all driven to meet the basic needs of oxygen, food, water and shelter. Obvi..We are so lucky here in the far far north to have such an abundance of all.

We need to feel safe. Again in a first world country, this is generally a given. Miss Mich has spent time in some curly third world situations where tanks, curfews and no essential services make it difficult to enjoy the culture, get to know the locals and find a good cocktail.

With those two boxes ticked, we move up the pyramid to Love (not to be confused with sport), affection and a sense of belonging. On the question of belonging, Miss Mich always defers to the most esteemed of philosopher’s Groucho Marx who maintained that he would not belong to any club that would have him as a member…here here.

Next we move on to the need for esteem (see Groucho)…In order to flourish we must respect ourselves at the same time as earning respect from others. Nothing like a bit of kudos in the community, Dear hearts. The Bright Young Things and I will be packing Christmas hampers for the homeless in a matter of weeks.

The last and by no means least need to fulfill is to find what you were meant to be. And that Dear hearts, can be anything..anything. My career guidance to the Bright Young Things has always been to find that thing which makes you happy to get up in the morning and go off and do. Vocation..vocation..vocation..even if you do wish to be a real estate agent.

Once all of the above has been met, it’s over to those little darlings of needs that can eclipse the basics.

Miss Mich needs Sport. Obvi..

Stimulation and Amusement.

The security of knowing the bright young things are safe and well.

A decent glass of something fruity and some scandalous conversation.

Shoes.

Music.

Hope.

Independence.

What we don’t need is anything holding us back from fulfilling those needs that, beyond the basic, allow us reach our true potential. We all hold within ourselves that very potential to achieve whatever it may be that can make us truly great...even if it is just how to mix the perfect cocktail.

Enjoy Friday.

With love
Miss Mich

Appliance Love

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has been dealing with some very domestic issues this week. A less than cooperative washing machine forced Miss Mich to deal with the matter of appliance maintenance.

This then led to a discussion of the application and inclusion of certain appliances in the boudoir with some of Miss Mich's closest and most trusted confidant's. It is best not to name names with this little tete et tete Dear hearts. What sized batteries are used in the bedroom, should stay in the bedroom. Discretion, toys and a low hum are really what Miss Mich is all about. Be assured, your secrets are safe with me...

What did become apparent, however, was the diversity of what floats one's boat. I almost wish I could name names, but if you don't mind, I will chuckle to myself as we go along, and if I'm feeling particularly cheeky I may give out the odd hint.

There is of course the obvious appliance, and I have it cleared with the appropriate confidante, that Tinkerbell wholeheartedly endorses the idea of some battery powered love. Having had several discussions with Tinkerbell re said battery powered love, Miss Mich is bemused to say the least to hear that one can break such a devise (!)…Miss Mich must now confess to, in the past, being somewhat concerned about the durability of the occasional live sporting partner of her own. But this is truly amusing…And begs the question…does this cum with a warranty?

Having attended Sexpo in Sydney with Miss M, Miss Mich had her head turned and her imagination piqued at the variety of accessories available to one with an imagination. Glass blowing will never have the same effect for MM going forward.

Then came the last charm. Dress ups and latex and a certain white substance made for some extraordinary evenings Dear hearts. The fact that he looked as good in Miss Mich’s lingerie as herself was at the same time both disconcerting and intriguing in the best possible way. Viva la cross dress…

There is of course perhaps Miss Mich’s most curious. And inspired…that of the Libertine…(note the capital letter)

Miss Mich has a confidante, a very special confidante who embraces their sex like no other. Miss Mich can only aspire to the heights of such a mentor. With this one there is no going back. No boundary, no limit or line to cross. Sex personified. An enthusiasm that Miss Mich has never seen matched. An imagination that makes story time the best time and a stamina that makes one day roll into the next. This one keeps on coming…

The Bright Young Things are very frank about their sporting lives and Miss Mich is always most curious to hear how the young folk are “gettin it on”…To hear the baby speak of a chum “deciding he was gay”…made Miss Mich at first pleased to hear this young darling embracing who he is…but then to hear the disclaimer of his previous girlfiend that (and I quote)…”no gay boy loves eating pussy like…..” made Miss Mich laugh and wonder that maybe you can have your cake (hole) and eat it too…

Having done the research, Dear hearts, both literally and figuratively, Miss Mich has come to the conclusion that it’s all good. How lucky are we that it is a smorgasbord of boy and girl and whatever else you would like to add to the mix. As long as everyone is having a good time and there is enough to go around…

Enjoy Tuesday.

With Libertine love
Miss Mich

Pandora's Box

Dear hearts,

I promised you Pandora's Box.

And here it is. Just ask the baby about Pandora's Box...Just ask Sha ron Morrie...The songbird fell in love with the Italian artisan of the car panel there, so she is the last one to consult...

As for myself, I'm kind of at peace with the whole experience. But it was tough. No question.

After we left the Big House and the most recent charm who was very much less than charming (and yes I will explain), in somewhat less than amicable circumstances, it was to Pandora’s Box we decamped. I don’t use the word camp lightly either.

The Big House had everything a girl could want. A pavillion boudoir set in the rainforest with a Peter Pan walkway to the living pavilion. Which made its salubrious way out to the terrace that overlooked the Coral Sea, Double Island and all the little fishy’s on their way north to Port Douglas. A 180 degree panorama of ocean and sky. And don’t get me started on the Full moon…

Choose your pool as one waterfalled it’s watery way into the next. The Bright Young Things had their wing and all lived happily under the architect designed tropical roof.

Until the charm lost his charm…

Pandora’s Box on the other hand was a makeshift “high set Queenslander” (note the inverted comma’s) of indiscriminate and dubious proportions. When one walked down the hall to the communal bedroom that the baby and I shared, the structure swayed its hips with a disconcerting rhythm that was far from alluring. The promise of landscaping from the landlord never materialized and the “moon dust” as the Bright Young Things christened it, flurried its way into our clothes, noses and beds, but never our hearts, Dear hearts, let me tell you.

With walls flimsier than a paper lantern Miss Mich was forced to have her late night conversations with her legal eagle out on said moon dust covered deck, under the cover of blankets in the middle of our northern winter…and yes it does get cold…

No car until our legal savior provided Granny’s car, made the weekends interminably long, but Miss Mich’s thighs terribly fit from walking, walking just to get away…Sha ron Morrie will forever be Miss Mich’s BFF for the kindness of driving her to and from the city and their shared place of employment.

The less said about the neighbours the better. Miss Mich has blocked out the smells, sounds and close proximity of the folk who confirmed in Miss Mich’s mind that indeed, she did not belong on the flat. The Big House is on the very same hill where the darling Cottage is. Miss Mich has the same neighbours, same gardener and almost the same view. The air up here, Dear hearts, is so much clearer than that below. Please do not think Miss Mich is being elitist. It is just that her head is clearer and her heart happier a little closer to the clouds.

All in all, Pandora’s Box was a small segueway on the road to enlightenment. A little purgatory for the Catholic in Miss Mich. A reminder, if Miss Mich should ever forget her Hail Mary’s, or forsake her faith, that straight back to the flat will she be banished.

Enjoy Thursday and redemption.

With love
Miss Mich

Up.Up.Up.

I have been thinking of the extraordinary Dear hearts,

That which elevates us above the ordinary.

Miss Mich must confess to having a fear of the ordinaire. It is not my intention to appear elitist, you know I am egalitarian at heart and in the immortal words of Geoff Fenech, “I love youse all”. But for myself I must say that I cannot settle for the median of anything. I would rather struggle on the edge of nothing, which if you consider Pandora's Box, a tete e tete to come, than be comfortable in the middle of well, the middle.

It doesn't take much to feel that we are operating at a higher frequency. Take notice of your surroundings. Here in the far far north we are so incredibly blessed with outstanding natural beauty. I have spoken of the full moon, all the little fishy's, the mountains and the sky. What more do you need to feel that you are floating?

To let you all in to a little secret, the easiest way to feel above the dross of the everyday is simply to laugh. One immediately feels young, energised and relaxed. There is no doubt that laughing is good for you, and your soul. There are several ways to channel said laughter. Miss Mich has been described variously as irreverent, taking the piss and just down right hilarious. I will take them all with gratitude. If I was irreverent, it must have been called for. If I took the piss, then you deserved it. If I was hilarious, then I thank you.

Sport. Stairway to heaven. Thats all I have to say about that...

Be a little bit naughty. This may or may not involve sport. Doesn't matter. Naughty is as naughty does. I love that (oh and Forrest Gump...obvi) Miss Mich can recall several acts of naughtiness with pretty much all of the major players in this blog and several more. Miss Mellie, Sha ron Morrie, Miss Christine to name a few. Don’t get me started with the boys...I would then feel compelled to elaborate. And incriminate. Myself...

The Bright Young Things are the best reference for raising oneself above the ordinaire. They are constantly challenging. Themselves, their present and their future. The songbird reaches heights that make me weep. See and hear for yourself at Salthouse on Sunday's and Mondo's on Thursday's. The baby has an insight into life that I am trying to catch up to. She is my sounding board and often the only voice of reason in the Cottage. The songbird and I are way too emotional for that little essential. My Darling boy and artisan of the mosaic. He who surfs with the dolphins of Jervis Bay and has eyes the colour and depth of the ocean, shares his ageless vibe, humour and love with all. The lovely Imps (and surrogate daughter) begins her trajectory to the fashion heavens at Whitehouse School next year. I expect nothing less than a complete wardrobe, comp, natch, to promote and share the Imps love...

My list of shortcuts to the exceptional includes aspect, light and space. Lemon, chilli and salt. Poetry. Music. Literature. I love Patrick White. All of our friends, compassion and empathy. Faith, hope and charity. Circles, trinity's and whatever you may believe in. And the last is standards. Don’t be shy about having them. Without them we become less than who we deserve to be.

Love. Lots.

Enjoy Friday.

With love
Miss Mich

I Remember When...

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich's terribly efficient Aide de Camp, Ms LA, has made the comment that she feels swamped by an “Epidemic of Goldfish”. You can imagine my raised brow as I asked her to Please Explain…

It’s not often Miss Mich comes across another as acerbic as herself, but the ever capable Ms LA has a sharp mind and sharp tongue. That is why I love her so.

Apparently, the simple yet stylish goldfish has a memory span of 4 seconds. This may be the reason that they have ended up swimming in circles in bowls whilst salmon have the glory of swimming upstream, bears excepted.

Memory….

Pardon?....Oh yes. Ms LA has made the inference that Miss Mich can sometimes be a little vague in terms of her recollection of the morning’s events, her latest marketing plan for pen domination in the far far north or whom, sorry what, she did last Tuesday. A fair call perhaps, or is it a cunning plan of Miss Mich’s to appear somewhat less than on the ball?, the red herring that masks the mind like a steel trap..to quote our favourite detective Maxwell Smart. Now there was a man…

Miss Mich’s ruse and blonde hair aside, I feel compelled to share with you the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy’s introduction to the meaning of memory.I dare you to read on and remember…

‘Memory’ is a label for a diverse set of cognitive capacities by which humans and perhaps other animals retain information and reconstruct past experiences, usually for present purposes. Our particular abilities to conjure up long-gone episodes of our lives are both familiar and puzzling. We remember experiences and events which are not happening now, so memory seems to differ from perception. We remember events which really happened, so memory is unlike pure imagination. Memory seems to be a source of knowledge, or perhaps just is retained knowledge. Remembering is often suffused with emotion. It is an essential part of much reasoning. It is connected in obscure ways with dreaming. Some memories are shaped by language, others by imagery. Much of our moral life depends on the peculiar ways in which we are embedded in time.

Couldn’t have put it better myself. Miss Mich remembers as a child the thought that “soon I will be a grown up and this childhood will not count”. How wrong I was. Damn you memory..

We are the sum total of our experiences and the memories of such experiences. What we do with these little darlings shapes us into the adults we become. Our memories are the stories we tell. To our friends, our loved ones and our children. It is possible that time can distort our memories, can bend the experiences and shift the shapes of what may or may not have happened. And even though we may wish not to have certain memories, we cannot escape them.

Miss Mich’s best stories of the last 10 years or so are some of her favourite memories. The Bright Young Things are perpetual favourite memories. And sharing with you Dear hearts, Miss Mich’s most secret and scandalous memories, add to the depth of experience. Both present and past.

Enjoy Monday (all of them)

With love
Miss Mich

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

Dear hearts,

I would like to talk about my bed. Not to be confused with Tracey Emin's bed, oh no. Although having said that, just because the terribly clever Ms Emin has made her mark by sharing with us, Dear hearts, her bed in all its honest and naked glory, it by no means, demeans Miss Mich's bed. The fact that Charles Saatchi was happy to part with 150 000 pounds for a messy bed with the detritus of a somewhat wanton woman gives Miss Mich the idea that the Emperor's New Clothes in the art world is alive and well. Perhaps I should give Charles a call and let him know the boot of my car is available for the knock down price of 50 000 pounds. If I tell him there is pound cake in there, I know that I will certainly have his lovely wife's interest. Perhaps we could pop Nigella in the boot, let her eat cake and call that an installation as well. Charge the plebs for the privilege, video the whole thing for Utube and print T shirts...

Miss Mich loves bed. Obvi... But not just for sport. In fact, bed is one of the last places Miss Mich plays. To be honest, isn't it a bit pedestrian to think that one can only perform in the horizontal?

Miss Mich likes to think of her bed as her boat. There is seriously nothing better than climbing up into that big, white, fluffy space that is home for the evening or afternoon, taking with you notebooks, journals, books, cups o tea, and sailing off into one's own imagination. No spinnaker set, Dear hearts, this is a leisurely cruise into thoughts, ideas and dreams. Whether awake or snoozing, some of Miss Mich's best ideas have come as a result of well, yes, coming, but also the slow meander of conclusions that lolling around with one's ideas and soft downy pillows allows to be formed.

Stretched out like a starfish or legs akimbo across the diagonal, Miss Mich does not think there is enough room for another in her bed. A seal point Burmese perhaps, but only because said pussy, not to be confused..obvi,..is easily pushed off the edge and over the side. A little harder with 85kg of big, hairy boy..

Bed is Miss Mich's refuge. It is where the songbird previews her latest laments and confesses her latest disgraces. Usually with the Italian artisan whom we all love and adore. It is where the baby comes for a cuddle and a little comfort after her own Passsion Pop related incidents. And where Miss Mich retreats after too many bubbles and not enough sleep. We all need a safe place Dear hearts, and this is Miss Mich's. A place to regroup, consolidate one's position and regenerate. And if one is lucky... to sleep, perchance to dream...

Enjoy Tuesday.

With love and cuddles
Miss Mich

Hip Hip

Dear hearts,

There is nothing like a good celebration. Any excuse will do really, so taking the cue from the ever wise and glamorous Miss Pencilvania, Miss Mich decided to take this weekend as an extension of her birthday. With Sha ron Morrie in tow, it was off to the races to have some fun. Such a good looking pair of filly’s Dear hearts.

With the best position overlooking the winning post and bubbles in hand, it was time for a little sport. Not Miss Mich’s favourite sport, sadly, more the sport of shaking things up. Amongst the conservative crowd of movers and shakers and do gooders, Miss Mich and Sha ron did manage to find a few gems.

The expression that summed up the afternoon and that forever more will be the reference for big day’s out (and we are not talking about music festivals here) is the CRI. The Champagne Related Incident. Why did I not think of this before? It was a wise and generous doyenne of the table who shared that little chestnut with us. As the day progressed and we lost count of the bubbles, secrets were shared and scandal flew around the table. To the point where one of the newly liberated ladies was ushered off by her most concerned husband. It appeared he was not aware of certain aspects of her sporting past. As he blushed and Sha ron and I giggled down the stairs, it was agreed our work was done.

The following day provided sunshine and more bubbles as Miss Mich continued to celebrate with her glamour pool party. With Miss P as the gracious host, the hills of Whitfield witnessed silk kaftans, sparkly sandals and the exotic flowers that are Miss Mich’s birthday buddies. More CRI’s followed. Thank goodness they were not CSI related. Sha ron Morrie did come close to providing a crime scene as her tongue nearly got the better of her, Miss Mich carefully steering her towards safer ground. Sadly, the protection did not extend to the pool as poor Tinkerbell bumped her head and could not get up in the morning…which may have been due to said bubbles…

All said and done, the weekend was a great success. Miss Mich and Sha ron Morrie have vowed to be abstemious for at least the days beginning with M, for this week at least. And it is only fair to say that Miss Mich and her birthday have been well and truly toasted.

Enjoy Tuesday.

Hip hip (hic hic)
Miss Mich

Independance Day

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich wishes to celebrate Independence day.

That for Miss Mich is everyday she is able to put food on the table and a roof over the heads of the Bright Young Things. No mean achievement, let me tell you, for a woman, who in her previous life had the David Jones Food Hall on speed dial for catering and the albeit absent, sperm donor for best address accommodation.

Miss Mich was not perhaps the perfect Lady Chatelaine, but she did look fabulous in a little frock and sparkly sandals as she supervised the wait staff at her cocktail parties. Looked the sportiest on the sidelines of the Private school Saturday sport and lunched and dined with the best of them at Sydney’s finest silver service restaurants.

The universe is a wise and considerate teacher Dear hearts. The past six years or so have taken Miss Mich on a learning curve of extraordinary proportions. She has learnt the most basic of things. How to deal with mechanics, how to pay tax, how to get a job. A real job. And more importantly, how to keep it. That is perhaps the greatest gift of all.

After being simply wife and mother (good looking obvi) for over 20 years, and then having the world change its axis somewhat, to that of single mother, Miss Mich was, as you can imagine, in a bit of a spin.

This is where Miss Mich’s inner chameleon kicked in. As spoilt as she was, in her heart she had the substance to allow for change. We all do if we are pressed hard enough. Admittedly, it took a couple of years of kicking and screaming and the sperm donor’s financial support to ready Miss Mich for the inevitable. That of self responsibility. We have spoken of this before. The grown up business of getting on with it.

A lot of it comes down to confidence, Dear hearts. Miss Mich surprised herself. When she sat down and actually thought about it, she had more experience in the world of business than she at first realized. All of that living in London and travelling to the States, all of that being the sperm donor’s accessory at conferences, balls and Ascot, subliminally gave Miss Mich an education of sorts. That combined with the fact that she actually has a naturally good business brain made the leap from lady of leisure to, in the words of the baby, working class woman, not too onerous.

So here we are, sharing the pen love far and wide. Mentoring the chickens in their quest for the lion’s share of the pen market. Creating marketing strategies for Asia Pacific pen domination. Managing the Big Kahuna and Churchill of the pen world. Every day. All the while looking fabulous..obvi..

This reads back like a big self pat on the back. And that, Dear hearts, is precisely what it is. It is sometimes necessary to acknowledge one’s achievements. We all deserve to sit back and reflect on the history of the path of our journey. If I’m lucky, Oprah or Dr Phil will read this little chestnut and fly me over to Chicago to share my secret (!). Or maybe I’ll just get a publishing deal. Or if I’m really lucky, I’ll get paid tomorrow…

Enjoy Thursday.

Love
Miss Mich

Jelly Wrestle?

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has a Conscience. Piglet does not. We all know this.

Simple statements I know, but I feel it necessary to put them plainly on the table for the purpose of this tete et tete.

Miss Mich's conscience sits on her shoulder like Tinkerbell. Well, Tinkerbell with a potty mouth, drink in her hand and a sledge hammer. The voice of Tinkerbell may be slightly more than reminiscent of Sha ron Morrie and Dear hearts, that is no coincidence. What ticks Miss Mich really off, is that more often than not, Tinkerbell is usually right. It seems that more and more, Miss Mich is turning her head to see if she gets the Tinkerbell nod. She is the Yin to MM's Yang. And without her, Miss Mich would really be up the yinyang without the proverbial paddle...

Piglet on the other hand, in the words of the Songbird, couldn't give a care. One must admire that, albeit in a somewhat foolhardy way. Piglet is like the eternal toddler. Wants what she wants. Period. Moves to get it and if something stands in her way, she simply walks over it, being polite and making sure she smiles and apologises as she steps her perfectly manicured toes across said path. It must be said that up until now Piglet is doing pretty well. Sha ron Morrie rolls her eyes at Piglet, whereas her lovely uncles, The B's, give the nod to Sha ron and look with resignation at Piglet and say what can you do?

It would make interesting viewing to see MM v Piglet in a jelly wrestle. The competitive MM determined to pin down the ever hedonistic P until she cries Uncle. That would put said B's in a tricky predicament. They love both equally. Would we have a B in each corner? Would we have them as objective adjudicators? Where would Tinkerbell fit in? I suspect she would most prefer to be flying around whacking both upside the head, just because she can...

At the end of the day, and round 9, where would we be Dear hearts?

Exactly where we started. Although the entertainment value for the evening would be peaking through the roof, esp if the wrestling were naked and they ended up kissing...obvi.

So what's my point? Putting both into context. Into the bigger picture. That we all struggle. We all end up a little of both. We do our best to be good most of the time. And that we should be forgiven when we let Piglet have her head.

Enjoy Monday and a little duality.

Love
Miss Mich

Go for Gold

Dear hearts,

A capital letter worthy subject close to Miss Mich's heart is sport...obvi. It could be said that sport is Miss Mich's favourite CLW subject. Miss Mich has been known to put the pursuit of said sport above almost all, happy to build her house of cards willy nilly without thought of huffing and puffing and blowing your house down.

Because there is a reason.

Or should I say a feeling. Several actually...

Miss Mich's favourite is that of disappearing. Yes, at the very moment of coming, Miss Mich simply goes...Now Miss Mich is being extremely direct with her language here and Dear hearts, I know it is not what you have come (oops there I go again..) to expect. But there is simply no other way to explain it.

Now that we have shared that little darling of a secret, Miss Mich can safely return to her usual quirky euphemisms and her amusing little word plays.

In sport as in all things, there are shades, levels, dynamics etc. Call them what you will, this complexity and diversity is what Miss Mich and I suspect you too, love about sport. I am constantly surprised at the variety of feelings, the discoveries of new triggers, and secret areas of skin that can be awoken and added to the lovely list of things to do. When on the kitchen fridge, the Bright Young Things are somewhat intrigued as to what might be for supper that evening…perhaps the list is best kept in one’s head…

Miss Mich is somewhat evangelistic about one’s potential in regard to excellence in sport and if there were an equivalent to the AIS, Miss Mich would be offering herself as coach and mentor. It is important to always strive beyond one’s own PB and to never rest on one’s laurel wreath. Perhaps Miss Mich’s particular sport was overlooked as the Olympics developed. Those Greek boys running naked at Olympia were not simply cutting down on wind resistance. They were proving themselves as athletes, aesthetes and animals for the boudoir. This may be wishful thinking on Miss Mich’s part, but what a lovely daydream to have.

Whether one is amusing one’s self with a baby oh, or playing the game with a Greek God, Miss Mich’s wisdom here is to go… well yes, and after that, go beyond yourself and get lost in your own potential. Nothing is too much to ask for, nothing is too much to do. And at the end of the marathon as you enter the arena for the final victory lap, if you are lucky, you will feel that you are sitting on the right hand side of God…such are the heights you can achieve.

Enjoy Saturday.

Love
Miss Mich

The Force of Bubbles

Dear hearts,

Such activity at the Cottage this week. With barely enough time to unpack the darling artifacts from the eastern islands of PNG, Miss Mellie arrived for a week of R and R in the far far north.

With her hand luggage consisting of six bottles of bubbles to celebrate Miss Mich's birthday, laughter, scandal and a merry time were well assured.

The Bright Young things adore Miss Mellie and look to her as their God Mother. Miss Mellie shares her wisdom and wicked sense of humour with all at the table, along with the ubiquitous cheese and red wine...

Blue cheese and red wine bring Miss Mich to the topic of today's tete e tete...

Balance and Harmony. Two most worthy capital letter subjects on Miss Mich's mind at the moment. Being a true Libran, these essentials are just that. One cannot live without them. Miss Mich is very much like the Princess and the Pea...if there is a something out of kilter, something not quite right..Miss Mich almost falls over such is her sense of balance put out. That and too many cocktails perhaps...

It's very much a Yin Yang world Dear hearts. Remember that. The hangover you have today will contrast beautifully with the clear head you will have tomorrow. Without one, you cannot appreciate the other. This is one way Miss Mich reconciles with herself the sad fact that most of the time, she must now endure domestic sparkling wine. To have been given a bottle of lovely French for her Birthday by one of Miss Mich's closest and most favourite friends, was that perfect Yin moment. A dip of the beautifully pedicured toe into her former life...there are some things Miss Mich really does miss. Interestingly, there are many things she does not. Luckily the mani/pedis are an essential no matter the cash flow.

One must realise that Balance and harmony are much more than keeping one's socialising in check Dear hearts...obvi.

One's equilibrium must be managed by the juggling of our mental, emotional and physical needs.
We need the right yin yang balance in order to transform ourselves. To grow and evolve and change. Miss Mich for one, will never stay the same. We must always embrace even the difficult phases of our lives and the moon. Because at the end Dear hearts, what was hidden will be revealed and what is destroyed will be reborn.

Enjoy Tuesday and the force of change.

With love
Miss Mich

Another Third World

Dear hearts,

It is a weary Miss Mich just returned from the wilds of the Louisiades, the eastern most islands of PNG. What a whirl wind journey…

Overnighting in that wild west frontier town of Port Moresby, Miss Mich felt lucky to escape with her scalp and dignity intact. Lucky for her, the lovely Mima and her foreign correspondent took Miss Mich under their ABC wings and treated her to a pedi and voddy at the only hotel in town. Dinner followed at the Yacht Club with the Kokoda Cowboys and sauced up ex-pats, some of whom were rumoured to be packing heat down the back of their pants. Now Miss Mich is no stranger to heat in said pants, obvi, but usually in the front of said pants…

The trip in the fortified ute to the super marche was quite the experience. Mima giving Miss Mich the tip to smile and be ever so careful to breeze through the throng of Nationals with the least provocation to what can only be described loosely as a shed of sorts, with seemingly out of date comestibles and some very dubious looking vegetables. Luck would have it we were only after Ginger beer for the Moscow Mules and Pringles as the perfect accompaniment. The comparison to the National food market as we tootled our way home tempered Miss Mich to describe forever more the original market as the David Jones Food Hall in comparison to the burned out hole in the wall offered to the locals.

The islands were another matter altogether. Friendly faces, sweet children and the Misima Showcase provided the perfect weekend's entertainment. The 40 young ladies competing for the title of Miss Misima was quite the cultural experience. Traditional grass skirts, baskets on their heads and lots of bare breasts had the yachties paying strict attention and the judges in fierce debate. Lots of traditional dancing and chewing of Betel nut made Miss Mich feel worlds away and in another time.

A little respite from the constant round of official events was an early sail with the Green Guru to Kumata, the sweetest little island 11 nm off Misima. A snorkel on the fringe reef to spy on sting rays and all the little fishy’s, followed by a wander through the village with a trail of little sweeties giggling behind made the morning a pleasure and the long trek back to home worthwhile.

The wisdom for Miss Mich from this small snapshot into the return of third world travel after way too many years in Business Class is surely that one can have the best fun and the most attention in something as simple as a grass skirt and a basket balanced on one’s head.

Enjoy less with more and Thursday.

Love
Miss Mich

All You Can Eat...

Dear hearts,

Decisions, decisions, decisions...hmmm

It's not really like Miss Mich to vacillate. To pussyfoot around. To shillyshally. Waver, waffle and whiffle. To be honest, I don't think I could ever see myself whiffling (?).

Back on topic...

Whilst Miss Mich has been steering the good ship CSS, and sharing the managerial love with all the chickens, she has still stolen a few moments to ponder the question of responsibility.

Miss Mich was born responsible Dear hearts. Mother to her own mother from the beginning, the pace was set for early maturity and a certain world weariness by the 7th Grade. With that in mind it was packed bags and an early escape from the family home and out into the real world as a tender teen ., only to end up mothering all over again.

It was not until the sperm donor decided to sow his seed elsewhere and Miss Mich began to collect her Charms, that she was able to find her inner hedonist and embrace darling Piglet. Piglet, whom we all know has absolutely no conscience nor thought for consequence. Piglet actively advocates Abdication of Responsibility at all times, preferring instead to go with the sybaritic flow and have two of everything… please.

Peter Pan is in the same class as Piglet. The boy who never grew up, not that boys ever do. Even those who appear to be responsible Masters of the Universe, like Miss Mich’s legal eagle, at heart are just big boys taking on the bully’s behind the school shed. The only difference being this lot wield “patches”, guns and knives and the school shed is traded for a certain capital city airport.

Miss Mich may appear to be meandering around the topic at hand, and that is probably because she cannot decide between deciding and that of throwing off all sense of responsibility and following Piglet to the all you can Consume of Life Buffet…in Vegas obvi…

What a lot of capital letters I realize. I hope Dear hearts, that I am not typing too fast for you.

So, should Miss Mich consider multi tasking? That of having her cake and eating it too? (Piglet says yes). Historically speaking it was a rather unfortunate end for Josephine and her whole cake affair…so one wonders how to have it all from all and keep ones head in the process. Which reminds Miss Mich of a very sensible morsel of wisdom from the lovely Miss Christine. That of keeping one’s head whilst giving it…

Now I really am meandering…

Enjoy Friday responsibly (if you must).

With love
Miss Mich

If You were a Carpenter and I were a Lady...

Dear hearts,

Here we are at the fourth charm. The Builder.

Sweetest idiot savant you could play sport with. I say that with love because he was mad. Literally. But in the nicest possible way.

For twelve months Miss Mich woke at 4.45 every morning, seven days a week, and beetled down to the Gate house of the Hemme's big Victorian manor, The Hermitage, on the water at Vaucluse to play with the builder. After a good hour of hanky panky, breakfast would be had at Speedo's North Bondi after which Miss Mich would make her way back back to beautiful Bellevue Hill, happy as a clam, to wake the babies at 7 on the dot...school you know.

Lovely boy. He lovingly built four houses for Miss Mich in her former life. Accompanied Miss Mich to Tafe every Tuesday night for the course of the Real Estate course, a willing study buddy and driver. A lover of architecture and sailing, extreme sport and race horses, he was excellent entertainment, especially when it came to the home stretch. He was stamina personified. ..

He showed Miss Mich the Witsundays in the darling Hunter 42 and introduced her to all the little fishy's. For that Miss Mich will be always grateful. That and the opportunity to wear nothing but a smile for a week and a day, generously providing the perfect way to celebrate one's birthday.

There is not a lot more to be said about the Builder to be honest. Although he played a significant role in the evolution of Miss Mich's sporting prowess and had the confidence that Miss Mich would in fact reach the heights that she has, the builder was perhaps just that, a beautiful building block upon which Miss Mich could hone her skills. 6'1'' of olive tradey muscularity. Yum yum.

He left Miss Mich with the comparison of female body to equine body, applying certain massage techniques that made the mares come on and the ladies simply, well...come on...

Is it not said that genius is so very close to madness? The darling builder was a little of both. There was no disgrace, Dear hearts, except perhaps that he could not maintain equalibrium outside of the bedroom. Miss Mich wishes him well and hopes he has found his peace of mind.

Enjoy Thursday.

With love and a little madness
Miss Mich

Happy as a Piglet...

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has been discussing the finer points of what makes a woman happy with our lovely Miss Christine.

Miss Christine and Miss Mich have spent many an afternoon reclining with a refreshing G & T, comparing notes, deciding that size does in fact matter and that there are times when more than one charm at a time is necessary.

Miss Christine shares the same healthy appetite for sport as Miss Mich and dear Piglet, so it is a like minded forum for animated discussion that attempts to get to the bottom of what really makes a woman happy.

Sport and shoes immediately come to mind. Obvi...

Some would say chocolate. Miss Mich is a chip and dip girl herself, so choose your hors d'oeuvre, order your cocktail from the fit pool boy and enjoy. Now that makes a woman happy...

A good hair day and a mani/ pedi always make Miss Mich smile. Nothing like pretty fingers and toes, not to mention having all those darlings attending one. Reminds Miss Mich of her former life...sigh..

Did I mention sport?

The Bright Young Things in turn make Miss Mich happy and exasperated...would the songbird please clean the kitchen... Seriously though, without our children women are smaller of heart and less of courage.

What really makes a woman happy, Dear hearts, is a strong sense of self. The knowledge that she can do it herself, even if she does have help and even if she does exercise that option. A woman needs to know that she is strong enough to weather any man, no matter the pressure, and emerge standing all the stronger, but never bitter.

And a woman needs to believe in love to make her happy. It may not be the egg in her basket all the time, but she needs to have room just in case it appears.

With that in mind, and enough sport to make a woman smile,

Enjoy Monday.

With Love
Miss Mich

What the World Needs Now

Dear hearts,

Love.

I know what you're thinking...The biggest capital letter worthy subject. Almost impossible to tackle...and yet...

It's all about the love, is it not. And it comes in so many forms.

The pen love of which we speak often. Miss Mich's reason d'etre from 8 – 5. Sending her chickens out with said love to spread the word far and wide.

The Bright Young Things. Say no more on the subject of Mother Love. The only unconditional love around. Even though they steal my clothes, drink my cocktails and never clean the kitchen...they are all.

Sport...never have too much, never too often and never without a little love.

Miss Mich's former life did not really allow for love per say...She was in love with her lifestyle and her shoes of course, and the tennis lessons and yummy lunches with her girlfriends made the weeks pass more than tolerably, but love did not really come into it.

Whilst she loved shopping, the view from the balcony and the weekends at the coastal farm, it could be said that something may have been missing. Perhaps the sperm donor had an idea when he was moved to take up with the little and shall we say young English rose. Coming home from yet another overseas trip, the souvenirs were not as simple as a signature scarf or trinket from Harrods. The pregnant 20 yr old was something of a surprise and Miss Mich wondered how she made it through customs...(excess baggage and all..)

Miss Mich must confess to having spent the last 6 years or so avoiding the whole concept of love and all its by products...

But things are beginning to change. The songbird has discovered love with the Italian artisan of the car panel. The ups and downs are worthy of any Rossini opera. The arias we have endured at the Cottage are more than worthy of La Scala and the songbird has penned many a classic in said artisans honour.

The Sunbirds, onto their fourth clutch of eggs in the nest lovingly built by the boy, are proving to Miss Mich that love can be a good and enduring thing.

And if all else fails, the full moon, all the little fishy's and the far far north demonstrate, in the wise words of JPY, that “love is in the air...”

Miss Mich believes that it is possible that she is being shown that it doesn't have to hurt.

Having said that Miss Mich is compelled to quote the noble Bard himself: “Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn”

Miss Mich is loving the whole idea of rough and tumble and is happy to subscribe to a little argy bargy in the boudoir...

So with that thought in mind, Miss Mich urges you Dear hearts, to share your love...where ever you see fit.

Enjoy Thursday.

With LOVE
Miss Mich

I Heart You

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has been hanging out with the young folk of Gen Y, getting the lowdown on the buzz words, the culture, the issues of the day. Drilling down to where its at and who's doing who...oops, actually no, that 's Miss Mich doing you don't want to know who...decorum and discretion...obvi..

Sport aside... at a local conference for all things Next Gen at her favourite hotel by the water, Miss Mich was privy to and participating in all things current. Along with our fair Mayor and the young movers and shakers, an interesting day was had amusing one's self with the protocol of Facebook, the joy of inclusive people management and how not to “Booge Up” (read belly up) ones' small enterprise.

The question you are all asking of course, is what did Miss Mich really get out of the day? Well apart from one sassy satchel full of Gen Y feel good snacks (where was the Gen X alcohol and chip and dip?), Miss Mich had an excess of feel good emotional credits.

Apparently we have only so much emotional energy... obvi. Just ask Miss Mich at a certain time of the day at a certain time of the month how she is coping and well...if you don't have a cocktail in your hand ...be very careful asking a question you may not want the answer to...

With emotional energy in mind, Miss Mich began to see the link between emotional credits and carbon credits. In fact, it is possible to credit every noble, capital letter worthy subject with a credit.

Miss Mich is thinking of creating a foundation: “The Miss Mich Emotional Credit Offset Foundation”. Too wordy?..what about "Emo Bank"?..clearly not. How about “The Feel Good Foundation”...This I like. Not only will I be able to store and redistribute your excess emotional credits (cryogenically natch..), have the cutest little quasi -medical uniforms (think Clinique), I will be able to enjoy the full extent of Govt tax breaks and the kudos of doing all of the morning talk shows. Kochy and Mel are going to love it..

The Govt of the day is going to jump all over this Dear hearts,..Julia will be crawling over Penny to have me Consult on all things feel good. After lengthy discussion with a panel of experts selected by Miss Mich herself, this comprising of Miss Mich's best and fairest sporting partners, Sha ron Morrie and Miss Mellie to name a few, a report will be tabled. Hard copies of course to keep the Big Kahuna and Churchill of the pen world happy.

Miss Mich can see, as a result of her ground breaking work, significant changes made to OH and S, now known as OH and Emotional S. The Fair Work Act will incorporate detailed procedures, protocols and rights relating to emotional relating. Julia will be hailed as the first deputy to acknowledge tears, tantrums and little cries of ecstasy on the shop floor as your rights at work.

Penny will be thrilled that she is able to offer across the board, carbon as well as emotional offsets to the big and major corporations of the world. Peter Garrett will, I suspect, head up the Charter for the program. Tim Flannery will come on board adding some heavy weight kudos and it will be a toss up between David Suzuki and David Attenborough as to who takes on the Chair.

All in all, this will put Australia at the forefront of Emo-Sustainability, note both the capital letter and the new title. The UN will need to implement this in all the hot spots and Obama is just going to go nuts.

Dear hearts, Miss Mich leaves you to share the Emo love with her people..

Enjoy Tuesday and Emo-Sustainability.

Love
Miss Mich

Throw of the Dice...

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich would like to muse on opportunity and chance for this tete e tete.

It all came about when Miss Mich was thinking about our very own Captain James Cook. It was a certain amount of opportunity that lead Cook to being chosen as Captain of the voyage to chart the Transit of Venus. Setting sail in 1768 along with that playboy Joseph Banks to observe said Transit must have been exciting times. Despite the fact that Miss Mich is not really a cruise kind of girl..no Love Boat for her..there is nothing like the idea of adventure on the high seas...(a little trampoline love perhaps..)

The chance for Cook to become truly recognised as a sailor, navigator, chart maker as well as astronomer was his orders from the British Admiralty to discover and chart the Great Southern Continent – Terra Australis Incognita. One must send kudos to Cook across the centuries for his efforts, for if not for him Miss Mich would not be the patriotic Australian sportswoman she is so proud to be.

Whilst this is not meant to be a history lesson, (we shall save that for the Fourth Charm), one must also give a nod to the attitude of Cook and Banks to the indigenous folk of the South Pacific. In Banks own words “if we quarrel with these Indians, then we quarrel with angels”. Miss Mich loves this quote. Banks took the notion of a little island love even further by setting up home with a beautiful Tahitian girl back in the old Dart. Miss Mich does wonder what his no doubt comely wife thought of the whole pacific affair...

I suppose one could muse that Banks was taking a chance at an opportunity to good to pass up with his exotic island flower.

This brings Miss Mich to her own point of wisdom on the subject, for you Dear hearts. Where you see a chance – take it. When opportunity presents itself – go for it. Opportunities are the gifts that the universe offers you to take a chance on. Without these gems, we run the risk of missing out on experiences that will shape and change us, one would hope always for the better. Miss Mich would like to give you a snapshot of the list of opportunities and chances that she is working her way through. You may borrow these with love.

Lie under the stars in an open field
Go to a music festival and wear gumboots
Find the best Margarita possible
Indulge in a little sport under the full moon
Dance naked in high heels (even if you are a boy..)
Smell a newborn baby
Tell someone you love them
Travel
Inspire someone with your enthusiasm
Be romantic
Be foolish
Be noble at least once
Be charitable often

Be yourself always

Enjoy Thursday

With love and oppportunity
Miss Mich

May I tell you a secret?

Dear hearts,

After another glorious weekend on the water, sunning and daydreaming, Miss Mich began to ponder the question of our many lives.

As Gabriel Garcia Marquez has written, Everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life.

And that is just the beginning. We are all chameleons, some are just better at it than others. How many different faces do we show in the course of a day?

I do love this idea. We shift seamlessly from role to role, with the subtlety of a good priest or politician. What makes this shift easier is the perception of those to whom we present our many and varied selves.

For the majority, our public lives are our most conservative. When Miss Mich is sharing the pen love she is the epitome of professionalism. Her skirt is to her knee, her decolletage modestly covered and the only reference to sport is that of Nadal v Federer. Remarkably, negotiations are completed, the pens are still sold and the Big Kahuna and Churchill of the pen world is a happy camper. Miss Mich gently mentors her chickens with all the love of a mother hen and works with her colleagues in a most collaborative way. Decorum is well served and the business of business beetles away most efficiently.

Our private lives allow for some of our true nature to be exposed. In the cocoon of our family and domestic nests we are able to show the sides of ourselves that would most likely never be on public display. We fart, shout, lie about in hardly any underwear and are often less than polite to those we love and live with. Miss Mich herself has been known to emit noises that could be considered less than ladylike from areas considered less than public! The bright young things are in turn loving and loathsome and mother of the year spares no feelings by telling them so in a most direct manner.

It is our secret lives that interests Miss Mich the most. The whims, proclivities and desires that dare not see the light of day. Are not spoken of out loud, but dwelt on with eyes closed. Whether under the covers or simply under the cover of that public life, they do exist and whether we admit to them or not, we all have a secret life.

What do we do with this part of ourselves? Frank Warren has the best idea. Miss Mich is a bit miffed at Mr Warren as she wishes she had thought of the idea first.

postsecret.blogspot.com

Yes Dear hearts, on this very uber page you can read secret confessions from regular folk. Anonymous and honest. Miss Mich loves it. Post cards sent with confessions from simple to most exotic and beyond. Can you tell which is Miss Mich's?

The next most obvious question for Miss Mich is how many people actually live out their secret lives? It may not be as easy as simply wearing womens underwear under your policemans uniform, or sniffing womens shoes, or even letting down peoples tyres in the street. Miss Mich would love to know, anonymously naturelment, what naughty things people do, what secret lives they lead and the frisson of excitement that follows.

Enjoy Monday in secret.

With love and secret thoughts
Miss Mich

Arms Across the Ocean

Dear hearts,

What is occupying Miss Mich at the moment you ask?

Sport...obvi...

That constant aside, a lovely few days was had with Miss Mellie and the lovely Afghan. Our generous captain, the Green Guru steered us on a northern course all the way to the charming Hope Isles. Amusements such as beach cricket, sunset drinks at the Yacht Club (read picnic table on the beach...v cute) and sailing the little skiff Calypso in 25 knots of breeze kept all busy until the next cheese platter and glass of something fruity.

There was something missing, however..an absence of little fishy's. Miss Mich as you know, has a great fondness for the little darlings. Perhaps it was a bit windy, perhaps they were off in other parts of that glorious Great Barrier Reef, after all it is school (of fish) holidays...

Speaking, Dear hearts, of the oceans inhabitants, it disturbed Miss Mich greatly to hear of the crisis in Sydney's North Head...penguins savaged by assailants unknown... Trust National Parks to step into the breach..snipers on point duty just waiting to take out the penguin persecutors!...true story.

This leads Miss Mich to the question of protection. When is too much too much?

There is the mandatory mantra that mother of the year sends the Bright Young Things out the door on a Saturday night with: “If it's not on, it's not on...” Obvi..

One could just say George W. Bush...nothing like a bit of overkill there.

It appears swine flu masks may have their place given the current global pandemic that Miss Mich has commented on previously, so no more taking the bacon there...

All these capital letter worthy subjects aside, one can only protect so much, can only hold one in one's arms so much. Miss Mich's songbird, her first born daughter, has flown for who knows how long. She of the many guitars, notebooks spilling poetry and concert tickets, notes and feathers - her memories and treasure. The child who thinks and debates and never backs down from an opinion. Who loses everything, who never washes up. Who sings like an angel and drives her mother crazy. Flying to explore and discover and hang out busking for her supper.

To her songbird, Miss Mich sends her love and protection. An etherial umbilical cord stretching across the ocean to keep her on track and safe. Yes Dear hearts, Miss Mich may be getting a little sentimental here, remembering her own odyssey at the same age across continents where Miss Mich found the seeds of the sportswoman she was to become, so with a small aggravation in her eye, we will never speak of this again.

Enjoy protection and Friday.

Love Miss Mich

Where there is Smoke...

Dear hearts,

It's time for the Third Charm. The Fireman. Funny story...

It was common on the weekends for the Bright Young Things to have their buddies for a sleep over. My darling boy would organise the troops and we would tootle down to Rose Bay to buy supplies for the long night of dvd watching ahead.

Whilst the boys beetled away stocking their baskets with sugar and carbs, Miss Mich decided fish would be just the thing for her supper. Imagine her delight when two firemen stepped up to the counter to order the exact same swordfish..Now Miss Mich is not a greedy girl and was more than happy with no more than one swordfish and one fireman at a time. A pleasant discussion ensued with the fireman extracting all the vital info from Miss Mich, sadly Miss Mich knew only the beachside location of the fireman's station.

Sitting in front of a saucy French film, (don't you love Arthouse cinema), Miss Mich decided to introduce herself to said Fireman. But how??

A letter of Introduction..how very Continental...

With the envelope sealed, the dilemma that now faced Miss Mich was no name to address. It was a simple matter of writing “Please pass this on to the Fireman who had swordfish for dinner”. Excellent.

The delivery was not quite so simple. Miss Mich found herself cruising past said fire station over the course of a few days. The envelope, meanwhile was beginning to look a little wilted and dog eared and Miss Mich was beginning to feel a little like a suburban (albeit good looking...obvi) stalker.

Something had to be done.

Fortunately, that week, Miss Mellie invited Miss Mich to play lesbians and go to see kd lang. The Opera House was the perfect setting to enjoy a few glasses of something fizzy and decide on the best collective term for said girls of a feather..sadly none are printable in polite company, but suffice to say we were in fits of giggles at the many and varied options. Oh all right...Batch of Buzzcuts, Fetch of Fannies and my own personal favourite Clutch of ...well you fill in the rest..

As we drove back to the East after a most amusing evening, Miss Mich finally found the courage to deliver the letter – Miss Mellie...After pressing what at first glance appeared to be the door bell, the whole of the Eastern peninsula was woken by the fire alarm. That certainly had the boys attention. Miss Mellie duly informed the now not so sleepy firemen that the letter must be passed on to the fish eating fireman in suspenders and big boots.

Suffice to say the fireman in question did in fact call Miss Mich and sparks were kindled. A very pleasant time was had stroking the fire and searching for hoses...

At the end of that particular summer, Miss Mich had her own personal saviour of the kitten on speed dial and a healthy respect for rescue techniques...nothing like a good game of “Save me, save me – my pants are on fire!”..

Enjoy Tuesday.

Love Miss Mich

This Little Piggy

Dear hearts,

Miss Mich has a friend. We shall call her Piglet. Whilst the name may appear strange and make one think of nursery tales, this little piggy is so named for her healthy appetite for all things yummy.

Sport, obvi. Nothing yummier. Piglet has been known to indulge for hours and days in the simplest of sporting moves. We dare not speak of her appetite for the more athletic and challenging...

When Piglet is in the room, look out fresh fruit, salad and swimming with all the little fishy's. It is best not to let her at the mirrored table lest she disgrace herself well beyond care. She is a very naughty girl.

But I do love her so. She is the antithesis of the super ego. She is the wild child, the renegade, the Bonny doing Clyde. She is the hedonist we all aspire to be. She willingly sits on the right side of Bacchus, sipping on cocktails and shaking her tail feathers.

When Piglet indulges, it is all encompassing. She may in fact go a little too far sometimes, but we all forgive her the moment she looks up with her wide eyed smile and asks so politely for just one more ....please...

There is a little Piglet in us all Dear hearts, and if there isn't then go find some. It is her ability to abandon herself to the pleasure at hand, to disappear into the moment and forsake all sense of reason that should be admired, for how arduous is life as a responsible, respectable everyday participant.

Whilst Miss Mich concedes that one cannot let Piglet have her head (lovely) all the time, it is important that she be allowed the freedom to provide the release. To liberate ones self from the structure of polite society and inspire a little ritual madness. A little ecstasy that allows one to transcend this day to day serious business.

Miss Mich is feeling a little light headed right now she must admit. The ink from the Nikko pens must be making her dizzy..either that or the promise of this evenings full moon. And you know how Miss Mich is when the moon makes its way full and luxuriant to its place above that beautiful Coral Sea.

Miss Mich advises some serious moon bathing tonight, a little howling and lots and lots of what ever floats your boat.

Enjoy everything and Tuesday.

With love and Bacchanalia
Miss Mich