International Women’s Day
We made the Newcastle Post last week. There’s something about appearing between solar panel ads and daycare vacancy notices for Lake Macquarie that makes our presence here a little more official.
Or at least, we were there: on a bench outside the YWCA with friends from playgroup.
The girl loved the face painting, the magic show, the elderly belly dancers. She did not love being photographed by a stranger for mass media. I’m okay with that. By now we’re lining litter boxes and being recycled by the thousand.
The best tidbit from the story, in my opinion, is this:
Ms Rae said that it was an enjoyable morning and that she relished the opportunity to play solo.
“I’m really just happy to be a part of the wallpaper,” she said.
I wish I had been there to hear her tone when she said it.
And maybe it was the quality of the wine at the tasting taking place opposite our bench, the perfect sunshine that day, the pleasant ease of recognizing people we have met these past six months and being recognized in turn, but I think I can echo her quote without irony. It IS nice to be a part of the wallpaper.
As long as I don’t dwell on what I’m missing elsewhere, it is good to be here.
A few minutes after our brush with celebrity, Ace showed up to take over parenting/shopping lessons, and I went to the craft market. We sold hand-painted Easter egg rocks to these international women to send assistance to those other international women. Nothing like a worthy cause+impulse crafting for a good time.