Book Review - 'Anne Frank the Diary of a Young Girl'

Anne Frank's Diary is a book I had always wanted to read, but it had not been at the top of my priority list. Then one day I spied it in a bookstore and felt compelled to finally get it. Now seemed to be the right time; I was ready.

My approach to this book was one of great care and slight intrepidation. Years ago I read Elie Wiesel's 'Night' and 'The Forgotten,' just two of his many books about the holocaust, and I found them hard to get through from an emotional point of view. These recounts are seriously horrific and serve as a sharp and extremely uncomfortable reminder of the lowest acts performed on fellow human beings. These recounts play such an important role in reminding us to never allow atrocities of this nature to occur again. They are stark, piercing recollections and will forever haunt me for all my days.

Anne Frank's Diary is well-read by a mass population and many reviews are already in circulation, so I am not going to attempt to add another one to the pile. I simply wish to add some of my own thoughts and if you happen to be reading this blog and have never read Anne Frank's Diary, then it might just inspire you.

What an interesting, complex and deep girl Anne Frank was. She began the diary when she was thirteen years old after receiving a diary as one of her gifts. Initially she wrote purely for herself, but later she began to write for an audience and as she matured her language increasingly became well-developed for her age. She dreamed of being an author and approached her writing with this in mind.

The details and subject material Anne chose to write about daily, detailed intricately what life was like for this small group of people hidden secretly away in the annex of her father's workplace. It is hard to imagine such cramped living conditions and how intimately these people had to share this existence for just over two years. It is beyond all comprehension when most of us enjoy the freedoms we take for granted.

I found reading the book difficult as I neared the end. Knowing what fate was in store for Anne made me read with such a heavy heart. This diary is Anne's history and the history of those who were closest to her in the final two years of her life. It is a perfect example of times when one can be surrounded by many and still be lonely. I do wonder if Anne would have been so hard on her mother if she had of realised what her fate was to be. She was brutally honest about a lot of things and stayed true to these feelings, even when she decided others would read her work. All teenagers and parents go through issues with each other. It's a fact of life, but usually we are given a chance to work through these things privately and without being judged by others. Just think if we were all to write down our feelings when dealing with each other, I doubt any of us would come up smelling like roses.

I was most interested in reading about their living conditions, how they divided up the space, the roles they each undertook daily, the rationing of food, their diet, their resourcefulness and the way they continued to educate themselves and each other. Things gradually became harder as time went on. I was also very interested when Anne wrote about their friends outside (the people who helped them remain in hiding). It was important to show how these people continued to help them and what they had to endure from the outside as well.

How do you thank someone for their insight whose life was sacrificed so young? Anne bared her soul and the life of those she lived so closely with. I am sure she was optimistic and believed her diary would be published and read while she rebuilt her life after the war. I doubt she would ever have dreamed her words would be read post-humously. She may have died as a result of typhus, but she died, along with six others she shared the annex with, because of the conditions she was forced to live. What a waste of life. War is such a sacrifice for all who are forced to be a part of it. Whenever I read novels of authors, or other notable citizens who have died as a result of war, I am always left wondering...what if? What if there had been no war...what might these people have gone on to write, to be, gone on to achieve? Even just regular people...when life is snuffed out...we lose. We lose in so many ways too numerous to number...but, that is another story.

Book Review - 'The Ice Age' by Kirsten Reed

I always look forward to reading a debut author's work almost as much as I enjoy reading a favourite author's work. I anticipate fresh ideas and writing from the unknown...you never know what treasure will be unearthed. I particularly enjoy reading emerging local authors in order to see what talent is mulling around our own community.

The Ice Age is Kirsten Reed's first novel and is described by other reviewers as something between Lolita and On the Road. It is the tale of a young female hitchhiker who hungers for independence, life experience and in her search for these things, attaches herself to Gunther, a much older guy who seems to exist purely to travel across America's hicks ville highways looking up his interesting and quizzical collection of misfit friends.

It is a quick, fun read with quirky lines like "We drove past all the gaudy painted signs telling us where the next doughnut shop was, the nearest hamburger joint; pizza, now doughnuts again. The road stretched across this wasteland like a big silver rubber band, stapled down by fluorescent mustardy-yellow lines. Even the sky looked tacky, needlessly aqua, a tourist's T-shirt."

The novel pans out like a road trip journal. The young narrator delves into the mundane daily grind of long journeys, the same cheap motels in any town, food on the go, survival, sanity, the people they meet along the way and Gunther's friends dotted along the way.

There are several threads that pull this journey along. One thread is the relationship that develops between Gunther and the narrator. Not yet 18 and travelling with a much older guy draws quizzical and sometimes suspicious looks. Both characters seem up to task to put their relationship to the test as well. Society seems quite intolerant, even judgmental, for friendships of this nature.

Another thread is the narrator's rush to move from innocence to experienced and the immature way she goes about it. She longs for a closeness to Gunther he seems torn to be a part of. The see-saw of emotions between the two protagonists is intense and sometimes leaves the reader feeling tense and maybe even a little frustrated.

As a reader I kept asking myself questions about the two main protagonists. I like stories with layers that get uncovered ... I like depth and I found myself wishing I knew more background about the two main characters. I'm not sure I liked them. They sometimes made me feel awkward, which is probably the best way to feel reading a novel of this nature because the loss of innocence is an awkward time.

I enjoyed this story because it made me think of lots of possibilities and outcomes that could have transpired, but didn't. Throughout the entire story I thought like a writer and for someone who enjoys both reading and writing, that is a good thing. This trip is probably not for everyone, but if you're adventurous, I say ... go for it ... and enjoy :o)

Book Review - 'Disgrace - What is a Mad Heart?' by J.M. Coetzee

I thought it was time to write a little about what I have been reading lately, seeing as I haven't written anything before about books since beginning this blog. I am still getting used to writing publicly and sometimes feel like I get a dose of stage fright...still getting into 'the swing of things'.

I have just finished reading the book by J.M. Coetzee called 'Disgrace - What is a Mad Heart?', which I began a couple of days ago. This is the first book I've read by this author and I am happy to say, I'd read more of his work. He was a winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2003 and a two times winner of the Booker Prize.

What drew me to choose this particular book? Good question...

I am on a mission to build a personal library, and so, often when I am out and find myself near a bookstore, I am magnetically drawn into it's depths to walk amongst the many shelves looking for new titles to accompany me home. Often I leave a bookstore with four or five new books for my shelves at home.

Some of my selections are based on titles I have heard about, friends have suggested, or what bookstores and writing societies have recommended. Sometimes I just like the look of a book's cover and the blurb and go that way. I know you're not meant to judge a book by its cover, but if it draws you in, then that can't be a bad thing.

I choose this book based on its cover and the fact that I found the blurb intriguing. I could not base my experience of this particular writer because I had none. I'm not certain the title grabbed my attention as much as the overall picture on the cover. I also felt compelled to read this story because I have many South African friends who have shared some of their stories about life in South Africa. Some of their stories I've found quite disturbing and judging from the blurb, this story sounded like it would be one of those disturbing yarns.

What did I think about the author's style?

I found the author's style easy to get into and everything flowed sequentially which helped the story move along well. I would say his style differs greatly from a Dan Brown page turner, but Coetzee is a steady page turner. My heart rate remained steady and I could breathe unassisted. The language was easy to digest and entertaining.

What did I think about the story?

I found the issues quite confronting and sometimes distasteful. But, having said that, they were interesting and moved the plot along. I was right about it being a disturbing yarn. The story left me thinking about lots of different issues, about life in general and about the racial tensions experienced in our world. I have lived all over Australia, along with a couple of other countries, and have enjoyed and lived through many life experiences, however, this story left me feeling at a loss at how racial issues touch our lives and the lives of others in countries where I have had no experience, and so, found it hard to relate to the issues experienced by the protagonists of the story. The author spent a lot of time looking at human relationships between family members, friends, colleagues, neighbours and metaphorically looked at relationships between humans and animals and compared the two throughout. A deep thread running throughout this story was values; the value of human life in many forms and situations and comparatives were made across the value of animal lives.

Overall?

I found this a very thought provoking story that has a lot of merit. The protagonists and minor characters of the story are ordinary people leading ordinary lives who live under some extraordinary situations or deal with extraordinary issues. The author has left many threads untied. This story is certainly not all tied up in a neat package with a happy ending. I enjoy reading books that make me think and stretch me. I believe this book stretched me and I took away a new awareness of what some people in other parts of the world endure.

If you like to be challenged, then I recommend this book to you.

Face Book - New World for Mums

Recently I have heard a few of my younger face book and twitter friends lament that their mothers have joined face book. There seems to be some mixed reactions...namely a question of their 'stolen' privacy, mums now keeping tabs on things, or feelings of their 'robbed' honesty. However, there are others who are happy to share the wide world web with their mumsys.

I find it amusing to hear or read the mix of comments. Being a mother myself, the comments have made me wonder what my own children thought of my appearance on face book.

I don't have to worry about Twitter because I am the only one, so far in my family, who twitters. I love to tweet ... especially knowing I have access to the whole world instantly and can find out the most random things in a heart beat...things I didn't even think I needed to know.

Why did I join face book? Many reasons I guess, but my intention certainly had nothing to do with any need to check up on my kids or their friends.

I love to have a go at new things and love a challenge. Learning to manage face book and navigate around the various sites is a challenge and I think I learn new stuff every time I get on there. I have fun on face book and find it a quick way to share info, especially photos. It is a fabulous way to share photos with others who are interested and know how your friends and family are, especially when distance is involved. Finding old friends is an added bonus. I seem to only use face book as a form of communication, rather than playing the games or quizzes that are offered.

Kids whose mum's have managed to create a face book page should be proud of them rather than worry about how it is going to affect their use of face book. For the kids who are happy their mums can share the face book fun with them - good on you.

I can only speak for myself, but I think everyone should just relax. Most mums have their own set of friends who they can connect with as much as any need to be connected with their children. It is simply an added bonus to be connected with your kids and their friends.

I know of situations where being connected to family or friends gives alerts to certain situations, but that is a positive thing, rather than a negative. Any situation can be either positive or negative - it just depends on how it is viewed. Face book may just speed up the inevitable of finding out things faster, perhaps.

I enjoy face book but try to limit the time I spend on it...it does have the potential to be a time waster if you are not careful.

I challenge those mums out there who have joined face book...don't stop there...have a crack at twitter too...twitter is fun, quick and you get in the know fast...

I welcome any interesting stories or comments of your face book experiences...

My Blessed Son

Today is my 'baby's' birthday...he turns 20 and is technically not a baby anymore, but he will always be my baby. I love him dearly, even when he challenges me with some of his antics. As any mother of a boy knows...boys are full of antics and mischief.

He has a great heart and I know he is going to be an awesome man of God...I am believing for this.

We started the day's celebrations early with breakfast in bed accompanied by sparklers and a rendition of 'Happy Birthday to you...'

I am blessed with three beautiful children. Dylan has two older sisters. I had always wanted a baby son and was so happy and contented to be blessed by God. I felt very complete with my two gorgeous daughters and Dylan was the icing on the cake, when he came along. I am so glad that I had the two girls first, otherwise I may have missed out on my youngest daughter (if Dylan had beaten her in line). I can't begin to explain how content I am with my lot in life.

I love all my children in such different ways because they are so different from each other. It is awesome to see such individuality and variety of character. God is amazing and how true is the scripture...'I am fearfully and wonderfully made...'?

Dylan is a character - I cannot tell a lie and I love his spirit...and I know as he matures, he will only get better.

When Dylan decided to enter the world, he was in a bit of a hurry. He was born at 12:45am on 17 June, 1989 at the Mater Hospital in Rockhampton.

My husband Ian and I, with our two younger daughters and my parents, lived on a property (154 acres) out near the small settlement of Dululu, which is approximately an hours drive to Rocky. Things were tough for us at the time. We were experiencing a severe drought which meant Ian had to secure work elsewhere as we were unable to support ourselves on the property alone. I had recently given up work in order to have our third child and Ian managed to secure some contract work out at the mines. He was due back the day Dylan decided to make his entrance. His father missed him by several hours as his plane was not due to land until a more 'reasonable' time.

I had been for one of my regular doctor visits the week before and the doctor had told me that if my baby had not arrived by Tuesday of the following week, he would induce me. Soon as I heard the word 'induce', I mentally decided that that was not an option...and I began to 'will' myself to deliver this child soon. This situation needed lots of prayer. I did not want to be induced after my first experience of this method when Jossy made her entrance. I had experienced such a wonderful birth when Kimmy came and I was 'spoilt'. I knew in my heart that having my next baby naturally was what I desperately needed...however, who knows that when things are beyond our control they don't always work out the way we want them to? I am sure others have experienced this from time to time.

The day before Dylan arrived was a Friday and the Rocky Show was on. I promised the girls I would take them to the show. So we loaded up in the Ventura Station Wagon and trotted off to town. We started out early and by the time I got to Rocky I had developed the start of a migraine headache. I dropped by a pharmacy and bought some medication, which helped immensely and I was good as gold from then on.

I drove up to a friend's parents home. They lived close to the showgrounds and told me I could park the car at their place as anywhere near the showgrounds was so busy and I would have a hard time getting close enough to walk (and I was very pregnant). I was most thankful for the offer.

I spent a wonderful day with my gorgeous girls Kimmy and Jossy, walking around the show. It was a big and very long day. I was disappointed that the show people would not let me onto the dodgems cars with my girls...:o(, but it was understandable...they had a duty of care I guess...but I felt so good. The girls had a ride on a camel too. We had the best day...and we certainly covered many miles traipsing around the grounds. At day's end, I'd promised the girls Hungry Jacks (their favourite at the time) for supper before the drive back home to the property.

We were offered dinner by my friend's parents when we got back to pick the car up, but I explained that I'd promised the girls Hungry's and didn't want to disappoint them. I thanked the family and we set off for Hungry's. By this stage I was famished as well. I took the girls' order and went up to the counter to place it.

By the time our food arrived, I had lost my appetite...suddenly...which is highly unusual for me. While the girls ate their dinner (a real treat for them, because living out where we did, we never had access to take-away and we couldn't afford take-away back then anyway due to how tight everything was), I began to have the occasional little twinge, but I didn't really think too much about it.

It was about 8:30pm and I was not looking forward to the drive home (another hour), but we headed off. The girls were pleasantly tired and had enjoyed a really lovely day. I suddenly felt very 'bushed' and was looking forward to bed myself.

The twinges increased in size and frequency. It began to dawn on me that I might actually be in labour??? I watched the clock in the car and timed each of the pains that came in waves...they were now three minutes apart.

We made it home okay and I got the girls ready for bed. Joss was six years old and Kimmy was two and a half. I wanted to keep their routine in tact and after they had a quick tub, we snuggled up in mummy's big bed to read a story. They knew daddy was coming home the next day and were excited. As I read to the girls, I have to admit, I was a little distracted and kept thinking about getting out my copy of 'Every Woman' the other 'bible' to see if I was actually in early stages of labour, but I needed to wait till the girls were settled. They finally nodded off to sleep and I quickly scanned the pages of my 'bible' and decided that yes, I was in labour.

I phoned for mum and dad (who lived quite close) to come over and then phoned for an ambulance. By this stage it was about 10:30pm.

Steve, the local ambo arrived. I asked him not to make me get in the back as I did not want to get sick as I sometimes suffered from motion sickness. So, I got to ride up the front. As we drove into Dululu, Steve decided he needed to clean the front window of the ambulance and he pulled up just off from the local tennis courts...I had to laugh because on a Friday night a lot of our friends played tennis together, including Ian and I. This night was no different and by pulling up right where Steve did, I felt like he was giving everyone the 'heads up'. Seeing an ambulance always raised some interest, especially in country areas.

The contractions got quite close together on the return trip to Rocky and I was feeling really tired. This was not what I had in mind, but I was really glad I would not need to be induced. I was disappointed that Ian would not be there this time for the birth.

By the time we arrived at the hospital the pains were very strong and I had problems answering the questions the staff asked me...all the paperwork stuff. They did a check of me and whisked me straight into the labour ward. They tried for quite some time to break the waters, must have been a bit tough, but once that was successfully done, Dylan arrived swiftly at 12:45am. I was ecstactic that I had given birth safely to a gorgeous little boy. He was practically bald with just this very fine white fuzz and a little round face...he was absolutely beautiful. The texture of his skin was so different to the girls. I can't explain it...there is a real difference between girl's skin and boy's skin (as babies)...their skin is smooth but the look and feel is very different. Dylan weighed 7lb 14oz, my biggest baby.

Once I knew I'd given birth to my son, my inner soul felt complete. I knew I was holding my last baby and that I had just met my one and only son...and I now had my complete family. It is such an internal feeling...I don't know where it comes from or why it is there. I was 28 years of age and had all of the children I was going to have over before I turned 30. I was excited now. I was more than ready and contented to watch these beautiful little beings grow and develop into wonderful human beings...my only hope was that they become the very best that they could and that they lived their lives in honour of the One who created them.

Ian arrived up at the hospital later on during the day and met his new son for the first time. Finally we were altogether, even if it was for only a short time before Ian had to leave to go back to the mines where he worked in procurement.

Dylan, for a long time, often asked me why we never had another boy (especially when he was exasperated with his sisters) and nothing I said ever seemed to placate him. I guess he always longed for a brother...until one day I said to him..."well Dylan, if we had tried for another baby, there was always the 50/50 chance that you would get another sister"...he has remained quiet about this ever since...and I know, over the years, his sisters have grown on him and I don't think he minds too much, really...

Poly-fleecy Stirrups - A Girlz Best Friend?

I've been set a challenge by my daughter to write about stirrup pants...what can one say about stirrup pants? Does anyone wear them anymore? Apparently so, for when you jump on the internet, there are plenty out there looking for a home.

So, I wonder who has actually had a pair grace their wardrobe? It has been quite a number of years since I had a pair. Fashionably unflattering, they did serve a practical purpose??? Surely some would agree with me? Maybe not.

I owned a pair when my husband and I lived in New Zealand for a time. Over there, I also owned a pair of hiking boots, too. Yes, I really did...and the two really do go hand in hand, I'd say.

There were posititves of owning a pair of stirrup pants. Let me count the ways...well...oh, yes, they were easy to pull on...like an adult version of baby pull-up pants (the types the toddlers wear these days)...once they're up, you need strong elastic around the waist, otherwise you'd be forever hitching them up. Once on, you could pull on a pair of warm woolly socks over the top and then, slip your feet into the security of your hiking boots for those serious walking tasks. If you weren't planning to go out and wanted to lounge around the comfort of your home, you could replace the hiking boots with either a pair of d'woolly ugg boots, or even better still, a pair of multi-coloured/striped leg warmers, complemented by a pair of baby pink ballet slippers and then you could lose yourself in the moment of aerobic exercise. Who needs snuggly blankies? With wonderful stirrup pants you get the freedom to move. The stirrups were also wonderful for keeping the bottoms of the tights from riding up to meet your butt. They managed to allow all of your legs to remain warm and secure. I am sure there are lots of variations of fabrics, however, I always preferred the warm fleecy fabric.

For those romantic moments with the hubby...picture this...lying alongside the love of your life wrapped in your slinkiest stirrups on a long-haired woollen rug in front of a roaring fire, with nice little treats to indulge in...when the moment is just right...your love reaches his big toe over and ...twang...releases all that tension...makes me just want to race out now and grab a pair...

The only drawback I can see (other than the obvious), is the way the stirrup always pulled the fabric behind your knees and upper thighs. It kinda made you look like you owned a pair of planks rather than the shapely pins you most definitely had.

Birth Day Magic

Twenty-six years ago started out for me unlike any I had experienced before. I had spent the past nine days moping around a hospital ward, waiting...

I was twenty-two years old at the time; young, fit and excited. So what was I doing in the local hospital - moping around for nine days? I was waiting to give birth with my first child.

I was sent to hospital for rest as the doctors were concerned that there was a problem with the placenta and they wanted to monitor my situation. Hospitals make me anxious at the best of times and to have to stay in there for so long was for me, not very relaxing, but I knew it was for the best.

During the past nine days I watched women come into the ward after delivering their new born babies, while others left taking their new bundles homes. Meanwhile, I was left still empty-handed, waiting. Time seemed to go so slow...

Then on the 9th June 1983 the doctors had made the decision to induce me. I really had no idea what this actually meant (only that they were going to make the baby begin the birthing process)...I was a little scared - this was it...

I knew that after that day I would never be the same and my life as I knew it would never be the same.

Labour lasted all day and even though I thought I'd had a pretty good birth as I didn't have anything to compare it to, it was actually a very hard birth - long and difficult, however, at 5:35pm that evening I gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl. I must admit, in my naivety, I confused the placenta for something else and thought for an instant I had given birth to a boy...

The first time I laid eyes on my beautiful new little baby daughter I was hooked. I still remember peering down into her small white face and looking into the two dark pools of her eyes. I felt so blessed and unbelievably happy to be a mother (even though I was yet to learn what that all really meant). It was this moment, such a special moment, when I got to meet my daughter for the very first time and fell in love.

I named my baby Jocelyn Mae Alexandria...Jocelyn means to be merry and happy - and that is exactly what I wanted for my daughter. Mae is my mother's second name and Alexander was my father's second name...so I modified this name and gave it to my daughter. I did this to honour my parent's for the love and support they have showered me over the years. Joss (as we call her) does have a long name, but each of the names she was given are badges of honour and she should be proud of them.

There is no love like a mother's love...it runs deep and I have never looked back. I have enjoyed the years I have spent with Jocelyn (my eldest daughter and whose birthday it is we celebrate today).

I truly hope she has a wonderful day today. She is blessed to be able to share her birthday with her siblings Kimmy and Dylan, her dad, Ian and boyfriend Chris.

I discovered over the years that there are no boundaries to a mother's capability to love. When I looked into the new born eyes of my second daughter Kimberley Robyn and my much wanted son, Dylan Ross - I was hooked...and my children are the dearest treasures I hold so close to my heart.

Our life is not unlike others...we have good times and challenging times, but throughout the journey, I feel I have been blessed by God. He has entrusted me with wonderful gifts of children and He has blessed me with a wonderful husband to share my life with. I have always been conscious of making sure I do the absolute very best I can for my family to help bring out their gifts and help them to shine in His light.

Happy birthday my darling Jossy ... I pray God's richest blessings for your life today and forever more. Hope you have a blast and that dinner tonight is fun, fun, fun...