Magpie's Nest

Pass It On - Active Ageing.

Rising at 4 am to turn on the computer and attempt to Blog and work on other little projects ever so constructively in a deconstructive fashion has left my brain very jittery. It doesn't happen that often so I went with the flow. At this moment any energy I have left is flowing right out the door and down the drain. So it's ironic that I want to tell you all about the International Council on Active Ageing and what they say about 'active ageing'. This is their definition and I agree with it wholeheartedly. Pass the link on to your ageing friends and family. It can't hurt!

"We can change the way we age by staying active, to the fullest extent possible, within all areas of life: physical, spiritual, emotional, intellectual, professional, environmental and social. Aging within these dimensions of wellness keeps us involved, alert and enjoying a productive life.

 The concept of active aging is summed up in the phrase “engaged in life.” Individuals can participate in life as fully as possible, regardless of socioeconomic status or health conditions, within the wellness dimensions."

Source: International Council on Active Aging®

 

 

Justice (W)Righting : (re)writing the marginal by exploring the liminal zones

The phrase "Liminal zones" wormed its way into my head from the foggy, thirty six year old, depths of Honours Anthropology, and whether it stretches to cover what I mean will become apparent, or not. But first, a digression, because Life is full of digressions, and because this blog is a genuine attempt to document the (r)evolution and remaking of a (new) Life that is the lot of this Baby Boomer in Retirement. Jelly moulds. Knitting. Literary reflections. Ceramics. It's all grist for this Magpie's Nest.

It's 5.47 am Eastern Standard Time, black outside, with sounds of the cars of early morning workers winding down the road out front, and the dawn chorus twittering away. Let's hope that at least the magpies are sensibly tucked up in their little downy nests. My husband certainly is, slightly bemused but supportive of the necessity of me giving in to this aberarrant behaviour. And it's chilly here in this room of my own - propping my heavy head on ice cold hands is not pleasant - conducive to clear thought, yes. At 4 am when I gave up sleep to cater to the needs of a vastly overstimulated brain, I was thankful that retirement supports such glitches in routine. I can go back to bed when this is done. I have a number of projects on the boil, and book blogging is one.

Actively pursuing 'Middle-aged Happiness Rule No 1-"Keep on doing what you've always loved - that which is guaranteed to give you exquisite moments of joy, and the odd insight' (yes, of course I just made that rule up, but you get it don't you?), I've been making far more time for concentrated periods of daily reading in my life. Not the women's magazine variety reading under the hairdresser's scissors, where I see that Prince Harry is hiding his disappointment at Pippa's engagement under his Wild Child facade. The kind where I have to finish Geraldine Brooks' latest novel before this Friday's book group, or I'm going to look like a fool. Again.

I've been very impressed by the novels of Geraldine Brooks: think 'Caleb's Crossing', think 'People of the Book', think 'March', think 'Year of Wonders:A Novel of the Plague'. And the insight that I've had (see Rule No 1), is that it's the same reason that I really like the novels of Tracey Chevalier: think 'The Girl with the Pearl Earring', think 'Remarkable Creatures', think 'The Lady and the Unicorn'. In writing their novels, both Brooks and Chevalier rewrite the past, both literally and figuratively, giving marginalised characters a major voice, causing The Reader to empathise with their situation. This approach results in a vindication, re-addressing the wrongs of the past by giving the characters powerful voices, allowing a contemporary audience to appreciate their plight(s) more deeply. It's the kind of historical righting writing that I find deeply appeals, more so because it's usually the marginalised female voice that is privileged by these writers, especially so when the 'hero' of the historical period is ostensibly a prominent male painter, scientist, academic etc. In this way, the female wins when she didn't have a hope in Hades in the distant past.

For both writers, female literacy and equality is a strong underlying theme. Chevalier's reworking of Mary Anning's status is one instance. And for Brooks, whilst 'Caleb's Crossing' is about the access to western literacy by the marginalised indigenous American Caleb, it is more strongly about the lack of access to formal literacy for seventh century Anglo females living in the American colonies.

In 'Caleb's Crossing' the preternaturally wise, female voice of the teenage narrator allows us to appreciate the complex consequences of the lack of a common literacy, and the lack of common values, between settler-invaders and indigeonous people. The lack of a common understanding between indigenous and invader is a familiar theme, but Brooks has manipulated and therefore intensified the perceived injustice by making the two American Indian scholars - Caleb and Joel - far more academically able than their peers, and in western eyes, formal academic prowess is the currency of social advancement.

Injustice is cloaked in a sense of the unfairness of blighting an able person's right to advancement on those merits alone. Under these terms, Bethia the female narrator, and Caleb, the Indian scholar, are both marginalised, denied access to full social rights, and suffer accordingly. The point is well made.

As a former English teacher, I was left with a great deal of empathy for Bethia's brother, Makepeace. I could see that Brooks has manipulated the Reader's sympathies by making Makepeace a glutton, lascivious etc, but his greatest 'sin' in terms of the novel was that he was 'dumb' yet had access to education because of the colour of his skin, and his sex. The academically bright young things, the female Bethia and the Indian Caleb, lacked his 'advantages'. To be born white and male in that society was privilege enough, but to waste it all because you were dumb was the real crime in this novel. In taking a different reading from the book, the teacher in me was left wanting to help and support a deeply unhappy, dyslexic little boy, with no hope of accessing learning support, and therefore finding himself on the margins of male society forever.

That is not to say that I don't love the way that Brooks takes historically interesting gems and reworks them into thought-provoking narratives. It's a genre of historical fiction that I am deeply appreciate of. If all history is a product of the context of the documenter, and I am happy to concur there, then historical fiction of this sort has a valid place in our appreciation for the historical past and the marginalised present.

It is now 7 am EST. The paid worker in the house should be rousing, it's daylight outside, and perhaps I should go for a walk or put the porridge on before snuggling back into bed? Blogging takes every bit as much time as university essays used to - at least the 1,000 word ones - but at least I get to set my own topic. Now that is a kind of Middle-Aged freedom!

PS. Let's add Michael Ondaatje to this list of Justice (W)Righting. His brilliant, multi-layered novel about Toronto, with its focus on an immigrant workforce and a bridge, is called 'In the Skin of a Lion'.

Ceramics Tuesday: Sketching Commences on the Funny Little Jug with a Lid

Did I tell you that I'd enlarged 13 of those photographs of lavender that I took last week? I had them enlarged to size 5x7 - inches I think. Anyhow, the detail is wonderfully clear for sketching purposes and I'm using them as I sketch directly on to the jug. I've done one side, whilst marvelling at the detail provided by a good macro lens in the digital camera.

The natural tendency towards making archival records is obviously still strong. And why not, I say! I enjoy looking at the process almost as much as doing the doing.

It feels so long since I designed the sketch on the page in the photograph at left that I've almost forgotten what I want to achieve. Looking at it today, months and months later, I find that I'm still in love with the design and Lynne thought it would still work for me, so off I sketched.

 

I kept all the photographs spread out near me as I worked so that I could consult various ones for interpretative references.

I have a feeling that I'm going to become far more knowledgeable about shades of purple, lavender and lilac.

Oh dear.

Decluttering has uncovered a kind of profligate secret that I'm quite willing to share as a cautionary tale of harmless but telling proportions. It's the kind of tale where one knows one is wildly enthusiastic for something that one forgets one already had bought it, until it turns up in a bookshelf reorganisation following a declutter. I'll have to gift the second copy to someone.

And then there's the tale of a fascination for, and perceived need of, tiny embroidery scissors. One can't have too many it seems.

The Bears that Aren't  In There Anymore

The Bookshelf that has now Made Room for more Books

The Book (s) I had to Have!

The Scissors that I really Needed

Gretchen Rubins, my new Happiness Guru, has a lot to say about the virtues of decluttering, and space clearing that allows energy to seep back in. I've heard about this before (you knew that I had about 5 books on decluttering didn't you?), but Gretchen's cheery reminders reinforced it all over again. So I'm waiting for the universe to refill my veins with energy again. 

While I wait, you might have noticed that I rearranged my sidebars so that my Wordpress blogger friend Sue could see responses on Post Comments more clearly. I did contact the TypePad Team, who said that they were working on a subscribe to comments feature (!!!). I've decluttered the right hand column so that only your Comments are there for easier viewing and access. Hope that works!

How do you clear energy blocks?

I can't handle a new passion! So buried in decluttering that I can't find the camera to show you how virtuous I'm being.

Just have to use words instead! Now isn't that ironic? Without supporting visuals this ex-English literature high school teacher feels lost for words.

Not for long (*exaggerated wink*).

One of the personal insights of wisdom that I've acquired in the last almost 6 decades (yikes!) is that you can have too many passions! It's exhaustively true! It's also likely to lead to lots of clutter in your life and a harried feeling of never having enough time or stuff or energy to do it all.

I know, I know. You knew this already! But how did you choose with the confidence to know that you were choosing the right ones for you? Maybe the first 6 decades are useful for giving everything a go so that by 60 you've worked out what it is in life that makes your heart sing, and you go for it. With an empty nest and retirement you suddenly have that luxurious feeling of being able to choose properly.

I'm taking a little break here at the computer, worn out from physically decluttering yet again, rationalising parts of my middle-aged life, parts that I am happily shedding knowing that simplifying always releases lots of psychic energy, even if you're far too worn out too appreciate it!

Fully aware that one of the recommended paths to a healthy old age is to learn something new, I've decided to redefine 'something new'. 'New' now means a new skill set in an interest that I already have; a new challenge; a new way of looking at something I'm already familiar with; a more creative approach. You get the picture.

Patchwork has a siren call for me. Felting likewise. Weaving, yes. Batik, yes. Pottery, yes. Painting watercolours, yes. Photography, yes. There are so many passions I could have explored and have explored, but I find myself wanting to upskill myself in fewer passions rather than spread myself thinly and incompetently over many.

I can visit exhibitions of any and everything, murmuring words of praise and queries as to subject and technique, from photography to silversmithing to sheep dog trials to recycling creatively to ironwork to thatching to dinosaurs to flowers to jams to cooking demos to the history of brick laying. I can still appreciate those who do devote themselves to things beyond my ken, but I want to get better at some things that I've found over the last few decades that I really like doing.

My passions are middle class, springing from a privileged life. I wish I could have said that I welded, creating new wrought iron lace. I wish I could have said that I painted on silk. I wish I could have said that I restored old Australian shearing sheds. I wish I could have said that I grew Australian native gums to spread around the countryside like Johnny Appleseed. I wish I could have said that I live to cook. Sadly, no. It appears that I am largely a product of my gender, my class, and my educational background.

Reading. Knitting. Cross stitch. Learning to play the flute. Botanical painting of lavender. Hobby ceramics. Blogging and reading online. Enough already!

I like love knitting. I love the feel of pure natural fibres such as wool and cashmere. I'd like to knit more cupcakes, just for fun. I'd love to explore lace knitting. I'd like to spin lace-weight yarn. My fingers are too problematically arthritic at 58 (!!!) so I've decided to only knit 8 ply (DK) and thinner. Bulky yarns requiring large diameter needles hurt my fingers and wrists too much. My finger joints frequently feel as though they are being attacked by bull ants. That pain is not pleasant. Heaven only knows what the next few decades will mean! My doctor says to keep using them. I will. I will knit.

Soooo, I'm decluttering yet more knitting needles. I put a note out on Facebook to Friends living in my town - excess craft supplies - gratis - please relieve me of them. Any metal needles are being donated to an ex-teacher colleague friend. I hope she's not overwhelmed. the bag is heavy with metal. Beads and beading materials; small bears; carded merino and horribly sharp felting needles; ribbons and fascinators are going to an ex-student friend. I hope she wants the unopened glue gun and glue sticks that I've thoughtfully tucked in to the box (*hopeful rising inflection in voice*). Perhaps she needs me to give her a bigger box? Can do.

I like to cross stitch even though the light has to be extremely good and I need to wear a magnifying lens around my neck as I stitch so I can see where my size 28 cross stitch needle is poking in the 32 count Irish linen.

I like love to read. One of the ironies of retirement for me is that I haven't read nearly as much as I did when I worked. Yes, I had to read for a living, but I also devoured it all. I loved getting paid to analyse Coleridge and Shakespeare. What a perfect job for a bookaholic! But I've been so busy exploring everything else that I've realised just how terribly much I miss curling up with a good book. It's not that I don't read. If you follow my blog it's patently obvious. It's just the rate that has suffered. Well. no more. new resolution. Read heaps! Read the books already on my book shelves - the ones bought in a wild, mad moment of enthusiasm, and sadly left on the shelf.

This morning I finished reading Edmund White's 'The Flaneur: a stroll through the paradoxes of Paris', but I want to hold off on blogging about it until I read 'Paris to the Past', a book about discovering French history by taking train journeys, which I only began this morning. The concept of being a flaneur by foot or rail, appeals.

I'm also taking little decluttering breaks in the recliner downstairs reading 'Caleb's Crossing'.

Oh dear. The upstairs landing is an occupational health and safety minefield. I really will have to leave this.

Have you rationalised your passions as you've aged? Or is it just me? 

Of a Ceramics Foggetted Tuesday Past

Did you see this in process, I wonder? Sometimes the eustress of retirement is almost an Alvin Toffler thing of 'overchoice'. There are literally soooo many things begging for my attention that I'm in danger of an eternal ramble through eternity, let alone the rest of my life, forgetting where I put things.

And I'm in no danger of feeling socially isolated and lonely with family scattered far and wide. The support of a strong social network engendering a feeling of connectedness is a vital component of healthy ageing according to any number of sources. Whilst ever I have a phone, my computer and the internet connection working, I'm one happy little social butterfly! This morning I connected with neice in Ireland, saw daughter's photographs from Germany while she interns in Bonn, played Scrabble with friend on the Central Coast of NSW, connected with an ex-student in Sydney, commented on various foodie and bookish blogs - all whilst having brekkie in bed before 7.30 am!

Today I planned to:

• weed the gardens - some time spent in the front, and the back.
• start going through my medical files; the vet has convinced me to keep some kind of record given my medical history - sooo, drat, I was going to ditch the x-ray pile , but he now tells me that he thinks I should keep them - necessitating a visit to the art supplies shop to get a portfolio thingy to shove them in (why do they have to be sooo big? Can't they give me a thumb drive for storage of same!)
• knit more of the penguin pure wool jacket for the rescue effort of penguins from the big oil spill in NZ. Check this link out for info and pattern.
• blog on Lost in Crime about Garry Disher's latest Peninsular novel
• think about getting the craft gear off the book shelves so that I can shelve more books in my study
• think about constructing a big photobook of all my ceramics projects so far - I have lots of pictures in progress
• learn to make pastry properly instead of allowing myself to be intimidated - thanks to MasterChef I now have the courage to tackle lots more foodie challenges with gusto and joy!
• anyhoo, so it goes. Another Day in the Life Of!

Have I posted this one?? Final 4th in the series of 4 tiny bowls wherein I was practising a Provence-style approach? This is painted, but not yet fired to its first bisque firing. Since completed and all sparkly. Love it! I think I'll have to have a special dinner party to launch this little lot once the lidded jug is finished.

In the spirit of the diversity of this Baby Boomer Lifestyle impetus of this blog, I somehow foggetted forgot to post details of this little juggy project. Facebook Friends saw it, but you didn't.

My parents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary in September, and I designed and painted a commemorative teeny jug using my Provencal-style series of ideas. My ceramics friends suggested that it could be used for small bunches of flowers, cream, milk...whatever.

Enthused and wired I drew lavender straight on to the greenware. I forgot that I wanted to paint the whole jug a Provence-inspired primroserie yellow with muted tones. Sooooo, dipping right back into the energy well, I painted it and then sketched on to it. Again.

And then it took me forever to find where I'd parked the photographs of the finished product.

There are a number because I varied the pattern details all around the jug.

Anyhoo, what was I supposed to be doing this Thursday? Files awaiting my attention downstairs? Small dogs? Sunshine in the garden? Lovely neighbour carrying a bouquet of fresh spinach from her garden?

Howzyrdaybn?

Ceramics Tuesday, Wherein I talk to the Bees

but they don't listen to me. Which is fine by me because I'm too busy trying to photograph them for my latest ceramics project, without actually putting a myopic hand on them. Finding HAPPINESS in my own backyard again.

Bless camera lens digital technology that allows me to be surprised with joy at the intricate detail in the veins of the lavender florets(?).

That last little question mark concerning correct botanical terminology has cost me an order for a specialist lavender botanical book so that I can really, really get to know lavender; so that I can sketch them with real skill. I've decided, quite spontaneously, that the kind of botanical painting that I want to do is highly specialised, so because I'm endlessly sketching lavender for ceramics painting, I've really decided to specialise. And I can't wait for the mail! Meanwhile, I'll copy my best shots out of the 70 (!!) I took in the garden this afternoon, get them enlarged at 'Officeworks' and start practising some more. The detail really is quite incredible, far more than I can see with my glasses on.

I've reorganised my Categories on this blog so that the various compartments of My Baby Boomer Liff Life are electronically filed here under more accessible labels. Clicking on 'Ceramics' in the left hand sidebar will bring up my Lavender and Cicada Provencal Style Project involving 4 tiny bowls for practice of various designs and colours and effects, 1 60th Anniversary jug that I may or may not have told you about, the bigger lidded jug that I'm currently working on, and a future little jug that my sister has requested for Christmas.

So thrilled with my skill level today!! Finally I seem to have really listened to Lynne, who talks about paint that pours like cream. The colour went on beautifully with my wide glaze brush. I put two coats of 'Harvest Gold' underglaze on, and because I wanted a more Provence-style colour I added 'Orange Yellow' and 'Sierra Yellow' to the mix. I have every confidence that that will work!

Soooooo, even! You know how it is when something seems to click - you want to crow from the treetops! Next Tuesday I'll start sketching lavender on to the jug.

Here's today's little sketch. I was feeling existential pain and stressed anxiety trying to control the future so I took a leaf out of Gretchen Rubin's 'Happiness Project' and went down the backyard with my cuppa and a sketchbook. It worked. Soothed the savage beast in my ravaged soul.

Delicious Dilemmas - Choice/Overchoice Conundrum - a 'Bookish' Dilemma

I shall digress, briefly. Is the word 'brief' even in my vocabulary you ask? Silly you! Of course not!

I'm quite simply and splendiferously revelling in the southern hemisphere spring. Orange experiences 4 quite distinct seasons here on the Central Tablelands of NSW, unlike much of Australia. My garden has been full of daffodils, and the odd tulip. Now it is the turn of the Clematis to expose its full glory. It is a thing of pure, unadulterated joy, a happy vision of joy readily repeated by the simple act of wandering down to the end of the yard and looking my fill again. I take my latest book, a cup of tea, and am joined by our two Shi Tzu-Maltese girls. Books, small hounds, sunshine, spring flowers. Another  big example of happiness found in my own back yard!

My reading pile, like all the reading towers of bibliophiliacs the world over, is steadily reaching for the sky. And as I typed that 'b' word to check its spelling I discovered another interesting book blogger to add to my list. And I love the motto on this blog:

"A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us." Franz Kafka

Isn't that wonderful quote laden with possiblities and associations? So wonderful that I'm going to 'borrow' it for my sidebar, and now that I've thought of it, add other wonderful bookish quotations. Feel free to send me your particular favourites!

This is part of my lovely TBR pile. Seem to have mislaid my copy of 'Caleb's Crossing', our October book group choice - somewhere in the house.

Ooops, I think that I promised morning tea at this time to the workman working on our laundry shelving. Divorce may be in the offing if I don't turn this computer off now! 

Just ordered 22 x 50 gms of Hot Pink pure 8 ply wool from Nundle Woollen Mills for a gorgeous jumper that I'll be knitting for myself for next winter. Big project on 4 mms. Twice the fun.

Taking the dogs to hear the start of the monthly brass band performances in Cook Park this afternoon. It's all go!

Didyahavagudweeknd2?

Jellicious!

Better get this off my chest right now. I made plump little breasts of pink and white 'Ispahan' jelly for our guests for dessert tonight. They're used to me being a tad strange so after I gave the complete lecture that you're about to read below, they tucked in, pouring  creamy white trickles from their individual little jugs all over the globular wobbles, and a jelly jolly good time was had by all. Jellicious in fact!

Billy’s ‘Jelly Breast’ Challenge

Married for almost 36 years, I don’t call myself a ‘brilliant’ cook, but I can do some things quite well, especially if I concentrate and turn off the computer first.

With guests coming for dinner I thought it would be fun to follow up on another blogger’s inspiration and learn while having fun.

Billy Law, MasterChef 2011 Top 10 contestant, is the quixotically delightful author of the website and blog called ‘A Table for Two’. His Posts ooze creativity in topics, recipes and visuals, and I enjoy following him on Twitter and  Facebook. He has a refreshingly thoughtful approach to recipes and many appear within the stretched and challenged capabilities of Would-Be-if-She-could-Be cooks like myself.

This month is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Billy has a signed Royal Selangor pewter jelly mould on offer as a prize for an extremely lucky Commenter, in association with his challenge to produce a jelly a day. Nick Munro, the British designer of the mould, has designed a truly beautiful piece that is a sculptural thing of beauty in itself. Apparently funds from the sale of these particular moulds will be donated by the Royal Selangor company to a breast cancer charity. I’ve left Comments, but I’m seriously tempted to indulge and splurge on a jelly mould anyway. Sounds the height of decadence, but mindful of Gretchen Rubins’ happiness suggestions, a splurge such as this could have exponential repercussions and ripples of happiness for lots of my future guests for years to come! Have I talked myself into one yet? Do I wrap one up for myself to put under the Christmas tree with love from our dogs? "How thoughtful!", I'll say. "Just what I wanted!"

Yes, I did say that Billy is making a series of jelly mould ‘breasts’ and for a dinner party tomorrow night I’ll be attempting the Day 6 ‘Ispahan Jelly’ with raspberry, rosewater and lychees. This is to follow the Karen Martini ‘Turkish Chicken with Apricots’ recipe, and to precede the Rose Turkish Delight pieces that I’ll serve with coffee.

Billy’s recipe is lovely and clear, but asking my husband to locate titanium gelatine ‘sheets’ on his way home from work, has already created somewhat of a tense situation. He was happy with the Rosewater idea and felt confident that the supermarket would have that. Lychees he could do. I may yet have to use powdered gelatine, and proffer a glass of wine as husband struggles in the door sans titanium anything. Australian supermarkets in rural NSW have improved mightily in the last decade, but this may prove a real test!

I don't have one lovely pewter jelly mould so I've used 4 metal dessert moulds that I do have instead. I layered it as Billy directed. I added an individual little jug of fresh pouring cream for each guest to use as they chose.

10.44 pm - After dinner: the guests have departed with grateful murmurs  for our hospitality, and we did have a lovely time. No, I didn't get to use titanium gelatine sheets. It still worked. Before I would let the guests at their desserts, I styled and photographed the jellies!

Fragrant. Decadently light. Refreshing. Just the thing to follow Karen Martini's spicey 'Turkish Chicken with Apricots and Pistachios'. A dessert to talk about and try and explain.

And just in case you missed the reference, here it is with a viola.

So there you are - some intergenerational bloggy learning, jellies infused with love and sociological significance. Living the sweet life in the fast lane!

Wherein I turn to a Life of Crime.

I've always been interested in crime since that first time my 13 year old self snuck quietly into the school library, loner that I was - always prowling on the margins of cliques, never a member of any. The library was a lunchtime refuge and astonishingly for an all girl's school that prided itself on its academic prowess, there were whole shelves full of Agatha Christie and Georgette Heyer! What were they thinking? Hooking the 'gels' into a lifetime of genre fiction? 'Tarte Noir'? Bad girls on the lookout for romance with a bad boy, of course.

Miss Moon, the librarian, had a lot to answer for, and I loved her for it.

Well, the romance has faded somewhat, but the crime's still going strong. We now have whole shelves full ourselves. Some we ask to move along, others we'd never shift in a million years. In fact, I probably wouldn't even loan you a copy of any of the Dorothy Sayers. I'd suggest that you found a library instead.

Now why did I start this Post this way? Oh, yes. The value of mental stimulation to an ageing brain. I should probably blame any number of other people for reminding me indirectly that I love to read and I love to write. Gretchen Rubin's wonderful little book, 'The Happiness Project', reminds me of this each day as I happily snuggle down to read another section.

I don't want to write my own novels. I don't want to do a PhD. I want to write therefore I blog. Composing on my blog and garnering interesting snippets from life to put up here, responding to your Comments - this is what makes me happy, so why resist it?  Maybe I did really want to be a columnist, but with blogging you're the one in the driver's seat and this little black duck doesn't dance to the beat of anyone else's drum!

Boy, do I like to blog. Honestly, I must have created and axed about 30 blogs in the last 4 years since I retired. True story. I learned that you really need a clear focus and purpose to blog successfully. I have many purposes, the trouble is that they're not always clear, and if they're not clear to me then you've got no hope!

If you want, I could easily give you a workshop on how to blog and which blog hosts provide what. I've spent hours tweaking my photographs in Photoshop and then working out the pixels to fit into a banner head. And you should think about it too - the blog, not the endless tweaking, that will send you mad. You just need to come up with your own purpose. Lifestyle blogs are a place to start, although many start with a holiday travel blog for friends and rels.The online community is way fun. Great for networking, and this 'they' tell us is important for healthy ageing.

My first blogs involved an online identity called 'Ms Bubblefish' at Blogger. I still am intrigued by the motif of a virtual cafe and dropping in in the middle of a cafe customer's conversation, but it seems that I'm a loner - still - in that. Then I thought about book blogging because I'd bought a fabulous little book on book blogs wherein I discovered the delightful voice of Dovegreyreader Scribbles. Her blog is probably the reason I chose TypePad myself and stuck with it. So, then I morphed into 'Ms Textual', a bookish lass who kept on wanting to talk about knitting and ceramics painting and anything at all, really. It was very satisfying to write any number of book bloggy reviews of the books I loved, but I stumbled over whether book readers were knitters and ceramics painters and liked gardening as well. This 'anything' inclination was really confusing for me. Should I separate the two? 'Garrulous Galah' (small country townscapes), a teapottery one, so many I forget what they were and I've axed them so they're probably mouldering on a remote server cluttering up the internet somewhere.R.I.P.

The truly frightful thing was that I axed 'Ms Textual' and didn't blog at all for 4 months last year, and when I worked out that I was only hurting myself by not blogging regardless of whether anyone else was interested or not,  I found another metaphor that appealed and constructed a nest full of snippets from the lifestyle of a retired Baby Boomer trying to live life as fully and meaningfully and healthfully as I could. I could preen and fluff out my virtual feathers and share the odd succulent worm or three. 'Magpie's Nest' - an olio of lifestyle stuff!

Where's the crime in that, you ask as you congratulate yourself in wading through the muck to get to this point? Well hidden, is the answer I'd like to give you, but this is me and you know I like to pour out my heart and soul all over the shop!

All the reading on healthy ageing that I've done says that meaningful engagement  is where the healthy lifestyle is at. For me, 'meaningful' is defined as more than one bloggy project. I don't know why except to say that I have heaps of drive and enthusiasm. I just do. Sometimes it's a curse. So thanks to an arranged meeting with one bloggy friend and the loyal Comments of another bloggy friend, I realised that a more specific book blog focus would engage me happily until I found myself at 99 busily getting the nurses at the aged care facility to nip out and pick up my burgeoning book deliveries that I'd ordered from online sites, whilst I Posted on to my blog. The print might need to be bigger, but the brain would still be firing happily away! Well, that's the dream anyway.

And you won't believe it, but I made up an online name for my crime fiction genre book blog that  no one else had claimed. What are the chances of that, eh?

'Lost in Crime'. My first Post is all about why I've turned to a life of crime. My second Post is about Australian writer, Garry Disher's first 'Peninsular' crime fiction novel - the 6th one has just been published. Pop on over and tell me what you think. In the meantime, fancy a look at which book blogs rate? This nifty little table reveals all.