What I MEANT to say was ...

So many good ideas that don't quite come off...

I have finally mastered loading a picture to my profile (with a little help from my friend 'Delamare'). This is the picture over there (look right).

Yes, I know that you can't see it, but it was a really good idea at the time.

It is a scanned copy of a card from the Ink Group that I have had in my 'cards that may come in handy' shoe box. I also have a number of cards for my BM 'Roogirl' who appreciates and sometimes shares my wierd sense of humour.

Anyway, to put you out of your misery, here's a larger version of this card/ comic/ thing that I just think fits me - enjoy!

Happy 99th Birthday to 'the Don'

Today would have been Sir Donald George Bradman's 99th birthday, had he survived beyond 25th February 2001.

As previously mentioned, I have a passion for cricket, specifically test cricket. I think it was born at age 10, when my father gave me his boyhood copy of Sir Donald Bradman, a 1960's biography in the Red Lion Lives series. Having already shown a love of balls and bats over dolls and dress ups, Dad saw an opportunity to share his love of sport in his tomboy daughter.

During the Australian tour to the West Indies in 1975, Dad and I would listen to the ABC transistor radio in the morning over breakfast, and I began my love affair with a daily newsaper as I kept track of all scores in my cricket tour magazine (which this bower bird still has). Therafter, the annual ABC cricket magazine and ABC cricket yearbook were 'must have's. I did toy with the channel nine version one year, but it just wasn't the same. ABC test cricket coverage is compulsory listening. I do miss Tim Lane, but Glenn Mitchell is improving.

By the way, do you know that the ABC has the same post box address in each capital city in Australia?

Q: What is it & why?

...

A: PO Box 9994 - this is Don Bradman's test batting average - 99.94


Well, happy birthday to the great man, wherever you are. I hope you admire the dedication and commitment of the current crop of custodians of the baggy green cap. I also hope you see the recent progression in their sportsmanship, but never a reduction in their intensity.

Living Life to the 'Fore'!

I have a sneaking suspicion that I've developed a very strong habit. I'm stopping short of calling it an addiction, from a point of comparison with my history and with others, but it is regular and much enjoyed habit.

Previously, I played competitive hockey. It was at quite a high level, and with and against some significantly better players than me. For the most part I held my own on the field, and I knew that I was addicted to THAT game. I played, coached, managed teams, administered clubs and associations, and even participated in the orchestration of an administrative coup! I took holidays to manage teams, I even took holidays to watch or organise tournaments. I loved the sport, and thought that what I loved most was the fierce competition ... I certainly played in a manner that suggested that I loved the competition!

Wisely however, I stopped 'cold turkey', and moved on to devote my available time to study and to watch my beloved Blues. What I discovered was a pleasant surprise and what I missed the most about hockey was not the competition, but the cameraderie. We devoted a lot of time to our games and our teammates, and combined that with family and developing careers.

While a few former teammates continued to play competitively (and one still does - much to her credit), we found an shared outlet post hockey that meets our needs for physical effort (to varying degrees), displays of skill (to varying degrees) and socialising (to a large degree). Sometimes the post round hot chocolate or latte is the best part of the round, and sometimes it is the 'team birdie' count. More often than not (quite possibly due to Melbourne's drought) we enjoy the best part of the day on the golf course - laughing with the kookaburras, smiling at the joggers and cyclists as they move past at a fair pace, or admiring the flora and fauna.

There is certainly enough time during nine holes of golf to catch up on all the activities of 4 women's busy weeks, as well as go a good way towards solving the problems with society. Despite the dawn start on a Saturday morning, I've grown to look forward to my weekly golf hit (sic) and always leave the club with a smile on my face, more often than not, regardless of the score.

Yep, this certainly is a healthy passtime - for mind and body!

Yoo hoo, anyone there?

I've been quiet on the blogfront in the past few weeks; not quite sure why, but expect it has something to do with:

• working long hours (often sitting at a computer) and not wanting to do the same when I arrive home and change from my 'binding' work clothes to my soft and comfy flannelette 'Winnie the Pooh' pjs


• having full days away from home each weekend (football, socialising, appointments etc). leaving very few spare hours to do housework (yes, people who know me can laugh at that - but having clean clothes is very important, even if a clean bedroom is not)


• avoiding delving any more deeply into my 'feelings'

I currently have a manager who is trained as a psychologist. Now while I did study psychology at university (as part of my business degree), I preferred the statistics and reality/perception side of psychology. Empathy, id, ego, superego (ooh, eminds me of a few around here) etc were all just a bit too esoteric. Give me concrete and logic every time, please!

Like all of us, we have had 'good' managers and 'bad' managers. My definition of a 'good' manager encompasses someone who treats you as an intellectual equal; who asks for your opinions on work matters and actually listens to your reply; provides support in terms of actions (not just words); and who recognises whether the work you do is effective or not. From my experience, 'bad' managers can be summarised as psychologists who pander to the egos of those in higher roles to get where they want to go.

This is the second time that I've had a manager who is a psychologist, and having just survived a 'psycho' manager as an impressionable 24 year old, I am having chilling flashbacks. My self defence mechanisms back then against the taking credit for my work and words that were not backed up by consistent actions, included internalising my anger & frustration and eventually becoming a virtual solo worker. This time around as a more seasoned and slightly more mature professional, I'm fighting those urges to revert to that behaviour.

My dear colleague 'super V', has given me a book entitled snakes in suits. It is splendidly realistic and I can identify many familiar charateristics. It also provides great insight into effective ways of managing said snakes. My manager may try to get inside my head, but thanks to friends and experience, the person who opens the door (just a crack) won't be letting her in.