Katherine Thomson is a multi-award winning playwright and screenwriter. Her television credits include East West 101, Killing Time, Satisfaction and BlackJack (which received an AWGIE in 2007), Wildside, Grass Roots, Halifax f.p, Fallen Angels, Snowy and G.P. She was also the co-writer of the Australian and Canadian co-production Answered by Fire which received the Gold AWGIE in 2006. Katherine wrote the documentary Unfolding Florence – the Many Lives of Florence Broadhurst, which was directed by Gillian Armstrong. It screened at Sundance Film Festival and won the AWGIE Award for Best Documentary and Best Television Script at the QLD Premier’s Literary Awards in 2006. Katherine also wrote the AWGIE nominated documentary mini-series on the life of Charles Darwin called Darwin’s Brave New World for ABC/CBC Canada and an episode of the mini-series documentary, Accidental Country.
Katherine’s numerous and critically acclaimed theatre credits include Diving for Pearls, Barmaids. Fragments of Hong Kong, Navigating, Kayak, Mavis Goes to Timor, Wonderlands and Harbour. In 2006, Katherine was awarded the Australian National Playwrights Centre Award for her substantial contribution to the Australian theatre industry. Her most recent play King Tide premiered to critical acclaim at Griffin Theatre in 2007. She is currently in development on numerous film and television projects.









HOW ETHICAL IS YOUR FOOD BASKET?
Well I'm up in the South Park smug cloud on this one. Here in Darlinghurst Heights we have a great Saturday farmers' market at Taylor Square (yes indeedy) with organic vegetables that last all week. I do my shopping at a health food supermarket - the $8 tins of tuna - and a quick sweep of my kitchen cupboards (will there be an inspection?) reveals 'organic' on just about everything. Not only that ... just had a case of organic wine delivered from Tamburlaine, and recently gave up whale meat. Our local organic butcher bit the dust a while back but I think it was because the owners smoked cigarettes and smelt of them so it always felt a bit contradictory. But we have another butcher now in Crown Street that sells organic meat and ye olde organic free range ham at Christmas. I try not to eat beef more than once every few weeks as it only encourages them, and know I should eat more kangaroo. As for other products, the plumber told me not to use recycled toilet paper given the condition of my old pipes so to speak, and frankly that was a bit of a relief. I have been in Africa when I've eaten for dinner just about everything we saw running around in the day, but I guess that's free range. I often wonder what I'd do in Peru. Lisa Forrest had chickens as a child, I had guinea pigs, and I understand that if you are a guest in someone's home in Peru they show you the guinea pigs they keep under their beds or on their balconies - I sob as I write - and then ask you which one you like. Then cook it up for dinner. That would really test my commitment to 'eat locally' ....
How much ‘me’ time do you get?
Well I keep hoping it's still April so you can see I'm really on top of it all. Busy year for me work wise with some wonderful but challenging projects, and because I help an elderly friend of mine manage his affairs . This can eat up quite a few hours a day some times, but I don't have children so figure least I can do etcetera. My me time is the hour in the morning when I exercise. The most interesting of these would be kayaking on the Harbour of a Sunday morning. I launch - as the serious kayakers say - about 8.30 a.m and just spend an hour paddling from Rose Bay to Watson's Bay or to Clark Island. I take some coffee and my breakfast and bob about somewhere hoping whales aren't attracted to rolled oats and yoghurt. As for sharks ... every time I see a shadow in the water I remember I still haven't bought one of those repellers you trail in the water that send out a harmless charge into the gills of sharks. Apparently this sends them on their way, but the devices are quite expensive so I keep putting it off. Also - and this is to further prove that I am a nice person even thought I don't have children - I worry that I could repel a shark which would then head in a fury to devour another kayaker nearby. Then my relaxing 'me time' would be ... well ... I guess I have to say ... eaten up ....
DO YOU STILL SHOP TILL YOU DROP?
As a child my fantasy was to be locked overnight in David Jones at Warringah Mall. My best friend and I would fantasise about how we'd spend the night playing with toys and trying on dresses and the latest hats. (Yes, everyone DID wear hats with apologies to Stephen Sondheim). But apart from Wick's Surf Centre Collaroy (run by my brother: shameless family promotion) I have rarely been a shop 'til drop gal. After graduating from op shops, I emulated a fabulously stylish designer friend and got into the habit of buying just one or two good items a year. And always getting to the sale of your favourite designer on the first day. And really, as I'm home working all day I often go a season and don't even get through the clothes that I like. Having said that, I do understand shopping therapy. The first time I went to Paris, off browsing in the 'degriffe' (heavily discounted) shops I recall this kind of rush of blood to my head at about midday and I picked up speed. Suddenly couldn't stop myself. Shopped like a person possessed the entire afternoon in sheer exhiliration. And spent a year paying it all off. And I do love a designer warehouse sale. Especially good ol' Century 21 in New York. There's a hunting element to these places, seeking out the Vivienne Westwood shirt hidden in the tracksuits, and beating that other dame to the $245 DKNY full length coat. What don't I economise on? Well, every 6 weeks or so I go the hairdresser and give a small donation to Goldwell or whatever it is to thank them for my natural, Tuscan-red hair. These donations work. My hair has stayed the same colour for years....
LIFE ONLINE. HOW DO YOU DO IT?
My favourite online accessorie is Freedom. A software programme for $US10, you use it to turn off the internet. Good for writers! You nominate how many minutes you want it off, maximum is 480 minutes at a time. macfreedom.com will get you to the site.
Appreciate Kerri's comments here about social media networks, I'm an early adapter on most technology but I've resisted them all to date . Having said that this is the year I'm going to figure out how to use Facebook and encourage friends to do the same, but in some kind of minimalist way so it doesn't feel overwhelming. As for Twitter, well I read somewhere recently that even Twitter users can't define what it is actually for, well that's a comfort as I think if I were on Twitter I'd have thrown my phone at a wall by now.
My email box was a guilt box until I read a suggestion from someone to get it down to max 50 emails, delete everything else, and keep it that way. Well, I didn't quite delete them, I put them in a file in case I needed them ... but oddly enough, I have not see the need to open that file at all.
And now to Freedom ....
WHERE WILL YOU BE WHEN YOU’RE 80?
Well, "No Religion" willing (just filled out the census) I'll be in Umbria or Paris thinking, "Oh Gosh, time to pack up and get back to Darlinghurst for the other half of the year." I'll have a kind of Google slave (was slavery really that bad????) who will trail me and anticipate my hesitation over names of films/actors/books/my friends, and just like the hirewire on which we speak, I will be effortlessly inspired time and time again by Google slave and my Smart Friends. I hope I will still be asking a question not unlike that which I asked this morning at 7 a.m Pilates: "Would it be OK for me to go the Jurassic Lounge at the Australian Museum tonight or will they see I'm above demographic?" My wise instructor (older male) suggested that my entree to the Jurassic Lounge would depend on my wardrobe. I guess we just have to Keep Up. I'll probably half keep up, as usual. But I fear at 80 I will have had to let go of my bright red hair which gets me over a few age barrels, but like you all, I assume other grooviness will be found as a replacement. Go those enamelled, pyschodelic retro zimmer frames! (Patent Pending)
WHAT DID YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GREW UP?
After wanting to be a teacher, and then one of the children in The Sound of Music (stage musical) and of course wanting to be an American I decided at the age of about 9 or 10 that I would go to the USA and be a civil rights leader.
On wintry Sunday afternoons I made my best friend Shirley walk about three miles to Dee Why Library (split level! beautiful! modern!) where I read everything I could on the civil rights movement in the USA. I remember the books being at about 824.3 in the Dewey system ... but I could have that wrong. (That number may have been the station on my transistor which we used for our Beatles fan club meetings. )
I imagined myself in a crowd somewhere in the South, and I would be called upon to speak. I'd go up onto the podium, modestly, and then let go and inspire the masses. And be part of what seemed to me this magnificent time of change.
For balance I was also writing, directing and starring in hilarious comedy shows in our garage and puzzled as to why the Mavis Bramston people were yet to sign me up.
A few years later at about thirteen I remember writing to someone to see if I was too young to be a missionary in the Solomon Islands. Who WAS THIS PERSON!?
WHO WINS YOUR PRIZE FOR AUSTRALIAN WOMEN’S WRITING?
My wise girl friends here have suggested just about every woman writer I was going to mention. One must get in early on this gig!
I have to add Inga Clendinnen to the list. Dancing with Strangers is one of my favourite books of all time, and Tiger's Eye a profound insight into serious illness. Let us not forget writers for performance, and to mention a few: Monda Brand for paving the way in theatre; Alma de Groen for her many beautiful plays. Sue Smith, Hannie Rayson, Alana Valentine, Debra Oswald. And while you're thinking of plays, wonder a little about the low numbers of female playwrights currently being presented on the stages of major Australian theatre companies....
MY COSMOPOLITAN LIFE
Yes, I remember the horror when Italians moved to Brookvale. They spoke another language on the 143 bus and were told to speak English why doncha, the women wore black for their entire lives even in summer, the men all carried knives and I had it on good authority that Elvira in our class brought wine for playlunch in her drink bottle. Then my ballet teacher's sister fell in love with a Korean and intended to marry him, and wasn't that a hot topic of conversation. And as more unfortunates started falling in love in combinations which made the once dreaded Protestant/Catholic mix seem quite lame, everyone panicked about the children of these mixed marriages. Think of the children!? They'll be mixed! Mixed children!? And what about us children mixing with mixed children.... Well the children ended up on The Slap or writing The Slap or directing The Slap ... thank goodness!
WHAT ARE THE BRANDS THAT MADE US AUSTRALIAN?
At school Sunny Boys and musk sticks and, speaking of carcinogens, those flavoured drinking straws you put into milk.
At home jatz and later rye-vitas for the vegemite worms, and Kraft cheddar in a block. Home made ice -cream but when finally bought it came in a brick by Peter's. Golden Circle pineapple.
Never any sweet biscuits at home (father dental technician) but Vanity Fair chocolates for birthdays.
No soft drinks (see above) but Cottee's cordials and every Christmas a bottle of Schweppe's lime cordial for a special treat.
I would duck into the shop to get my dad a packet of Ardath's (he gave up when I was eight) and remember that box very clearly. He would have a glass of wine at night decanted from a McWilliam's flagon, semillon I believe
Soap was sunlight. Only ever Surf for the wash. Also Keen's curry powder for the curried eggs, curried prawns and curried Tasmanian scallops. And we ate a lot of fried rice, I think there was only one brand of soy sauce available, oops forgotten the name.
But I have to say I don't remember loads of packets in the kitchen, more ingredients. As in things were made from scratch ....
WHAT’S YOUR MOST-TREASURED COOKBOOK?
A dead heat between Marcella Hazan's book of Italian cooking, and Stephanie Alexander's tome. Each book is splattered with red wine and food, and each has fallen to the floor many times. There are clippings of other recipes shoved in the appropriate sections, under S for spinach and P for polenta.
Speaking of which. Apparently an early edition of Marcella had an error. A friend of mine once said she stood cooking the polenta for about an hour and a half and needed therapy after the meal. The next edition carried an embarrassed admission, she'd tripled the amount of water required for the polenta dish. A physio's dream...
Favourite cookbook shop is the store run by the brilliantly named Bonnie Slotnick in the West Village, NYC.
MY FIRST CAR…
The first car in which I which I travelled independently sans adult was a mustang convertible, owned by the sister of my host family in Fort Worth Texas while on a fellowship for a year. Just turned sixteen, riding in a convertible to school driven by a wild girl. A car reeking of tobacco even with the roof down. But of course the roof went up when pot was smoked, which I'm sure would have fooled any cops pulling up alongside. I wasn't allowed to drive, which was great because it meant I could get stuck into the delicious strawberry wine or later in the year as we grew more sophisticated, the Tequilia Gold. The mustang drove us to the liquor store of course, and due to my accent I was always sent in. Those darn foolish liquor store folk believed that anyone who talked like me had to be over 21. My last night in Fort Worth, when the magnificent year was up, we drove around all night with the wind in our hair. Not quite Paris but it felt like the next best thing.
WHAT IS THE MOTTO YOU LIVE BY?
Usually: "Well, what are they going to do? Come and kill me?"
But the more mature part of me looks to Martha Graham on the corkboard:
"No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissastifaction; a blessed unrest that keeps us marching ..."
WHAT DO YOU DO IN YOUR CAR (THAT YOU SHOULDN’T)?
I used to pride myself on being able to shell prawns (without dropping shells or legs) while trundling in my little Hillman Hunter. Who was that person? Now I am stern about other people using mobile phones but excuse myself if it's on speaker. I can do a full make-up using 3 sets of red lights. Once in a hideous traffic jam on the F3 I watched the comedy channel on my palm pilot and the time just flew. But I do always drive within the speed limit especially on freeways. Judging by the number of tail-gaters out there, this is also something one shouldn't do ...
YOUR FIRST KISS?
He walked me out of the Riverview dance to a grove of trees. As I came up for breath after pashing off the first time - glorious - I glanced down at the car park below. Through the windscreen of a Valiant I saw my mother, father, brother and sister all staring up as if they were at the drive in. They were VERY early for the 'pick up'. Later, when I slunk into the car my mother snapped, 'Well, I like the kiss he gave you!!!". "So did I" I muttered from the back seat. That didn't do me any good, and I wasn't allowed to see (name supplied) ever again ...
WHEN WERE YOU THE ‘HEIGHT OF FASHION’?
Sunday Mass was a perfect showcase as all Catholics of a certain age will know. A stroll to the front pew at around 10 years, wearing a cream gaucho hat trimmed in brown around the edges. Ola! Then three years later at Surfers with the home made lace bikini, matching beach jacket and lace beach bag with bamboo handles. My mother couldn't make sunglasses so those big white beauties were bought. I walked ten paces behind my family at all times, so people would realise I was there sans famille. An independent traveller with the gear to match.
WHAT I EAT WHEN NO-ONE’S WATCHING
A large bowl of popcorn cooked in extra-v oil, well salted and sprinkled with more oil, freshly grated parmesan cheese and pepper. A very indulgent version is sprinkled with the best cheddar. Best served late at night with a glass of red.
WHAT ARE YOU GRATEFUL FOR?
I'm grateful to live in a house where the roof doesn't leak. I spent so many years in leaky old houses where I didn't want to upset the landlord. Now when it rains I can enjoy it and don't need to run around finding buckets!
WHAT’S YOUR POP CULTURE FAIL?
New bands. I can't keep up. I know every lyric of every Anything But the Girl cd's ... but even I know they haven't released an album for a while. Now I don't even know the names of the hottest bands, let alone able to identify the music. I should get a part time teenager, the way some people adopt a granny. The other problem is that ye younger folk are all into retro ... I had breakfast to Yellow Submarine the other day.
MY MEMORIES OF A BELOVED PET
Pathos alert. Around 8 years of age I finally got a real pet. All the goldfish kept dying and I couldn't bear sobbing over the toilet bowl as their little golden bodies were flushed away to different waters. So I got a beloved guinea pig (name supplied as it's used as a password on some websites). I trained him to follow me, and to come running when his name (supplied) was called. One day on our ten foot high terrace I was fondling it and training it to read, when the boy across the road (name could be supplied if requested by any hitmen) took him from me and decided to see if my beautiful brown and white long haired guinea pig could fly. He threw it soaring off the terrace to the driveway below. I ran downstairs and cradled Gusfred (I'll change my password, he deserves to be named). Gusfred was bleeding from his little mouth, but I was as brave as he. "No one worry," I cried in pre-Pythonesque style. "He's just bleeding because he bit his lip." Well, no. He bled a little more then bit the dust. The guinea pig was replaced by a much hardier tortoise but then he hibernated one winter behind the incinerator without telling anyone. Some months later his shell was found - not too long after we'd gathered round the incinerator for cracker night. No more pets until I was an adult, then the succession of kittens attracted to jay walking .....
WHAT’S YOUR GREATEST DINNER PARTY DISASTER?
Those barbecues that use little coals are hopeless! Impressing my overseas guests at the bottom of the garden, sausages that cost as much as the rent on the BBQ. Finally realising that after 2 hours they weren't going to cook no matter how much wine we all drank. Called out for pizzas. Then didn't have enough cash to pay and had to borrow from guests. Twenty odd years on they still remember ...
WHAT THREE THINGS WOULD YOU TAKE TO A DESERT ISLAND?
Well I'd like my young nephews with me primarily so I had some slave labour and also because they're good at fishing and very entertaining. They'd have their schoolbooks with them of course. The first thing I thought of was my Kindle - crikey I'd better put my practical cap on if we're leaving any time soon. I'd take all the John Richardson biographies of Picasso and I would have a very good supply of sunblock/moisturiser, lipstick and mascara as one must keep one's standards up. Would the iphone still work there ... ?
WHAT’S THE BEST THING YOU DO FOR YOUR HEALTH EVERY DAY?
I get up and find myself at City Gym before I know it and fight the big boys for the weights. But so many other things come and go: the dandelion coffee before the real one (I know, I know), the meditation firsr thing (feels great, why stop doing it?), the walk around the block every few hours during the work day ....
THE TEACHER WHO INSPIRED ME
Growing up in North Manly before the Warringah Mall was built, theatre was a bit thin on the ground. But Miss Maddocks school of ballet opened up my world. Carol Maddocks (later Carol Van Stratum) urged us to close our eyes and imagine the music, and made me feel special after every exam and every concert even though I was average at ballet and had curly hair to boot (curse those buns!). She taught me never to hang around with boys on street corners (I don't think I ever did) and later asked me to teach drama to her students at her Pennant Hills school, even though I'd never done it before. She remained a friend until her death a year ago. Then there is my former prinicipal Sister Maureen Mc Guirk, we also remain friends despite my being on the 'soon to be expelled notice' for some years in middle school. Sr Maureen begged me to do Latin, which of course I defiantly did not do. When I made it through the expelling years she encouraged me to write the school revues ... I just remember a hand on the shoulder, and her laughing eyes and a single word, 'terrific'. Kept me going for years.
THE SMELLS THAT MAKE ME REMEMBER…
Wild fresias. As kids we could play outside until the streetlights came on, you'd race down the hill towards home as soon as they started flickering so as not to get into trouble. Wild fresias along the sides of fences meant that spring was on its way. So we could stay out even later! Any excuse to be on the road ... plus ca change ...
THE LAST QUEEN OF AUSTRALIA?
The flag is an embarrassment. If only we'd changed it before the 24 hour news cycle to avoid the mass hysteria. Imagine if the Canadian flag had the Union Jack in the corner, it would seem absurd. Let's keep the Monarchy, even though HRM herself was reportedly surprised that we didn't vote in favour of a Republic. Let's keep this weird family. And let's just rise to the challenge of having to explain (repeatedly) to incredulous visitors or folk we meet on our travels that sure we are an independent nation and no we're not 'British' but yes go figure ... our head of state is the Queen of Great Britain who doesn't really represent us anywhere. And that despite how it must seem - given our flag and our Head of State - we are a meritocracy here in Australia. And that yes, OF COURSE we could be a republic and still be a member of the Commonwealth, but everyone seems to forget that whenever the topic is raised. And if anyone tells you the Anzacs fought under the Australian flag ... oh please. They didn't.
HAVE YOU EVER STAGED A HEALTH ‘INTERVENTION’?
Yes. And with a positive outcome. An elderly friend of mine was showing all the signs of dementia, but close relatives had not really stepped up to the plate in terms of accessing help. I organised a joint phone call between myself, another close friend, the relatives and a St Vincent's Dementia nurse and the reality was laid out to us. Appropriate assistance was put in place, and it evolved into more complex help (via the NSW Trustee and Guardian) from there. I am closely involved with my friend's ongoing wellbeing, as is his medical Guardian. Much of that is in place because of the insistence that we have a phone meeting that day. Tough stuff.
WHO ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SINGERS?
Yes to Carol King, James Taylor, Simon and Garfunkel ... John Lennon, kd lang. But for phrasing and for discovering a song as if it's happening for the first time can't go past Judy Garland.
WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST JOB?
Delivering false teeth. My Dad had a dental laboratory so from the age of 11 or 12 every Christmas I would take false teeth and models to all the Sydney dentists, carrying a trusty Adidas bag and walking miles. I'd sit with the two elderly men who were the other deliverers watching my father work until a job was ready to go. Then at 15 Kentucky Fried Manly every Sunday night, saving money for the suitcase I'd take to America as an exchange student. My poor Dad had to pick me up at 10, I heard him mutter once "I think I'd rather buy her the thing." Illusions of independence. In my late teens, picking bad garlic from good garlic off a conveyer belt at Taco Bills Manly Vale was another great job and guaranteed a seat on the bus.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN A GOD?
Awe and mystery and oftentimes a sense of 'something more': yes.
An interventionist god who is watching our every deed: no.
A god who started the Big Bang: not according to science.
And a little something from Stephen Hawkings to follow ....
The idea that space and time may form a closed surface without boundary also has profound implications for the role of God in the affairs of the universe. With the success of scientific theories in describing events, most people have come to believe that God allows the universe to evolve according to a set of laws and does not intervene in the universe to break these laws. However, the laws do not tell us what the universe should have looked like when it started -- it would still be up to God to wind up the clockwork and choose how to start it off. So long as the universe had a beginning, we could suppose it had a creator. But if the universe is really completely self-contained, having no boundary or edge, it would have neither beginning nor end: it would simply be. What place, then, for a creator? [Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (New York: Bantam, 1988), p. 140-41.]
CAN JULIA GO THE DISTANCE?
The legislation of this government has been mostly progressive and visionary. The government has been mostly consultative. The idea of another bout of conservative, populist government makes me regret having renovated my house as I don't feel I could live here with an Abbott led government and his climate change deniers. On the weekend I spoke to 3 couples who are all planning to emigrate should the coalition get in. Many of my friends who emigrated under Howard have never returned. I have supported Julia Gillard in conversation with others, in letters to her - all the feeble ways one can when one isn't a mover and shaker. But it seems that human beings, once they've made up their mind about something (you lied about a carbon tax!) become intransigent, and will hold their previous opinion close to their chest rather than feel 'wrong'. I regard changing one's mind as a sign of creativity, flexibililty and emotional intelligence: one takes in the broader picture and adjusts one's opinion. And sadly, I bring this facility to the question at hand. I am swayed by Mike Carlton. I know that Rudd was dysfunctional and thwarted the participation of his Cabinet. Perhaps he has spent this time out in the wilderness considering his errors, getting more sleep, understanding how stultifying it is to micro manage, and learning to trust others. The latter seems like a big ask for a person who has been humiliated on the national and international stage. But I believe all people (narcissists and psychopaths excluded) are capable of change, and must believe that he is, too. It seems - unbelievably - that the Australian public do not take any notice of our solid economic standing compared to the rest of the world, and prefer the opinions of shock jocks to facts. So sadly I have fallen into the camp that says unless the opinion polls start to swing - which I always thought they would - that a change of leadership to a man (yes folks, the gender issue is paramount) will be a wise move. There are some terrific, imaginative Ministers on the front bench and keeping as many of these as possible should be a priority in the decision making. Euuugh I never thought I'd say this. It is true that the Government hasn't managed to sell its message - how many people know that our corporations were being penalised in some countries because we didn't have an EST or CT, or that NZ has had a carbon tax for years. But it was the same under Keating, try as he might he couldn't get across that the world was in recesssion, everyone thought it was 'just us'.
DO YOU KNOW YOUR NEIGHBOURS?
I can barely walk down my tiny street in inner city Sydney without saying hello to a neighbour. We all know each other, we give each other our keys when we go away. If someone's house is being renovated a bed or a bathroom is offered. We have an elderly chap on our street, he's lived here for 65 years, and everyone looks out for him. The couple next to him ask him to pop the Telegraph through their door each day when he's finished with it. They don't want the paper (!) they want to make sure he's OK. People make little gardens outside other people's houses. We're not in each other's pockets, not by a long shot because one of the rules of terrace living is that you're allowed to ignore your neighbour when you're in a rush, and you don't talk over the back fence. But we've all bonded in some way over the years. And it's noice.
MY FAVOURITE CHILDREN’S BOOK CHARACTERS
You got me thinking. Heidi! I've just pulled down my copy that I've kept since I was 8 to remind me why. I guess I was attracted to her independence, how practical she was. She gets dumped with her gruff elderly grandfather, ah she strides across green pastures and makes the most of it. She's admired by adults, they seek her advice and learn from her. She doesn't feel the cold, or if she does she suffers in silence. Oh dear I can start to see how formative this book was. Heidi feels passionately when she's moved back to Frankfurt, but suppresses her homesickness for the Alps. No one must see brave Heidi cry. Finally she teaches crippled Clara to walk - the dream of every 8 year old, well it was mine at the time. What with Sound of Music and Heidi, I knew I was destined for the Swiss Alps. Sometime in the future, striding across on my own ... Note to self must get there one day ...
HOW DO YOU KEEP YOUR BODY AND MIND STRONG?
I have to lift weights so that I can haul my overweight cabin baggage over my head, not to mention lugging the overweight check in. Currently doing interval weight training, so you keep moving and avoid 'gym coma' - sitting on a weight machine and staring into space.
I'm slack with the brain training but at my best do Mybraintrainer.com and now signed up to - oh god, what's it called - brain hq posit science (this got a good rap in a book in praise of the middle -aged brain). I'm taking on board Jenny's advice re three months on and off for the supplements - I was taking gingko for years but now a Brain Focus supplement which is apparently a bit more synergistic.
I have read scores of peer-reviewed articles which assure me that red wine is essential not only for the brain but also fitness and core body strength so I twist my own arm and enjoy.
HOW DO YOU SLOW DOWN?
Flying is excellent slow down time - love that feeling that no-one can get you, often wish a flight could continue a few more hours. But I don't think I've ever slowed down, even as a kid I remember wishing there were 8 days in a week to fit in all my 'things'. I used to resent sleeping but have taken on board the scientific research that it is a good idea so I do it, now. I'm reminded by this to get back to meditation, dropped off the peg about 6 months ago even though I KNOW how fine a thing it is to centre one's heart and mind. Having said that when I have had holidays (not so easy when you're freelance) I am excellent at just lying down and reading novels and not giving work another thought. Usually takes me about an hour to unwind. Hmmm now you've got me thinking about another one of those sort of holidays .... next year maybe ...
I REALLY DON’T NEED ANY MORE…
Cookbooks. If I am imprisoned in my kitchen for the next ten years I may get through some of the recipes from the miriad of gorgeous, seldom used cook books. But having just bought a Weber from a friend I now can't stop myself turning on that gas bottle every second night, so I believe I could cope with a few smart BBQ accessories. And someone to clean it afterwards.
THE MOST MEANINGFUL GIFT I’VE EVER RECEIVED.
Can I have two? The first most meaningful was a typewriter when I was about 8 years old. It was ingenious: you had to turn the dial to the letter and then press 'click'. It meant that I could now type up invitations to the backyard plays and revues and thus ramp up the professionalism of the little troupe of neighbourhood kids who were willing to strut their stuff. It was a bit too laborious writing scripts with this thing but I remember feeling so incredibly grown up and ... validated.
Second one is a bangle that my dad made for his mother. He gave it to me when she died and I felt very honoured. It can't come off and has been on my wrist for over 30 years I'd say. It's gold and a beautiful construction. My dad was a dental technician, and as far as I know this is the only piece of jewellery he ever made.
THIS IS MY CHRISTMAS
I've been away for a few years at Christmas, and have missed sprinkling talcum powder (spoiler alert) around my brother's ugh boots for forensic evidence that Santa has been. That's the only tradition we have, really. The rest is ad hoc but I'm in charge of prawns and pudding and it'll be my brother and his wife, the three boys and my wife's lovely mother. As it's a rare day off in coming weeks I'm trusting everyone will be quiet and let me read a detective novel. On the other hand, lying around next to the pool yacking to the littlies will suit me fine ...
THIS IS MY CHRISTMAS
Ah! My brother's wife, not mine. Not that there's anything wrong etc.
MY NEW RULES FOR 2013
People in the inner-city will bring their wheelie bins inside in between garbage nights. They can get smaller ones or sleep with the wheelie bins on their chests, whatever works. Our street has gone from 60 bins 'out' to zero and we're all the better for it. I'd like it to be legal to slip barking dogs half a valium.
I'd like online activist groups to take a deep breath of maybe 24 hours before whipping up a storm. Finally, people at the back of buses should sing French songs at every opportunity.
DO YOU TAKE A HEALTH SUPPLEMENT?
My big recommendation is Gastrolytes when flying. A sachet before, one during the flight and one on landing. Along with a couple of those anti-hangover pills available over the counter. Makes a huge difference to a long haul flight.
Swear by my Chinese herbs. Have been taking them for about ten years and have a year's supply wrapped in plastic as my dear acupuncturist/herbalist has taken a sabbatical. GP checked out ingredients and approved 'em some time back, they matched the Western herbal approach she recommends for menopausal symptoms and general well being. All those symptoms passed me by unnoticed so assume the herbs worked.
Glucasomine sulphate: knee specialist the other day said loudly and clearly "Keep taking them!" so I will. Also throw back Brahmi something for the brain, woman's multi ; milk thistle go give my liver a chance; some super duper fish oil pills that go with Chinese red rice yeast to lower cholesterol (GP prescribed).
I used to shovel in the anti-oxidants but gave up after reading research that indicated could be counter productive. Big on the boiling up ginger, garlic, lemon for a cold. With a slug of brandy to kill the germs.