Sunday At The Coliseum: Ruby 1 – Lions 0

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Week One: Ruby 1 – Lions 0

Week 1 of my project implementation is almost over, 80+ hours later, hence no blogging this week. Still working today [Sunday] prepping for next week’s loads. At least I didn’t need to go in to the office which means I finally had a big sleep in!! Ruby style! Migrating data from one computer system to another is a bit like putting a square peg in a round hole. A bit of chipping away here, massaging and manipulating there and voila!! And if it doesn’t quite fit, then a big hammer! No.. only joking! I’m happy to say the hammer wasn’t required, I do though feel like it has been used on me!!

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Project Mascot

To get us all in a team mood, I created a Project Mascot. You remember my Blue Angel from two posts ago? [here]. Well I gave her a do-over with our Project Name and some words to protect us from Diseases and Big Buses [it was a little less polite than that but you get the drift]. It seems to have worked, although I forgot to mention not being hit by push bikes. Yep, right before our first production load I went to move my car and was hit by a bike. On the footpath! A huge slinging match ensued between the pushbike owner and another pedestrian. Seems the pushbike owner was intent on laying the blame on someone else and completely ignored me. Back at work I attempted to tell my colleagues the story ...

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Me: Hey Everyone I got hit by a pushbike!!!

Them: That’s nice .. Have you completed task xyz?

Me: Hello ???? I got hit by a bike!!

Them: Yes..That’s nice ..

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The Prayer Wall

The next day they seemed to realise that YES I actually did get hit and NO I wasn’t joking. We decided that although the Angel was working in our favour, more help was need for disasters not related to disease or buses. So each night when I finally get home around midnight, I pick out a new ‘Mascot’ to present at work the next day to inspire or protect. It also serves to give me a small window of creative time which I miss with no blogging. Here are Week One’s entries in what my colleague calls ...

‘The Prayer Wall’

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So that’s the status of my life right now [working and hot! it is 40c here]. Week Two will be more of the same but hopefully the hours will reduce. The good news is, by this time next week we should be finished, or very close to it, then it is just dealing with the aftermath.

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Take care everyone and I’ll see you next week, if not before!

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The Cat Came Back, She Couldn’t Stay Away

She Was Sitting On The Porch, The Very Next Day

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IMAGE SOURCE:

#1 Blue Angel: From the Pont Sant’Angelo in Rome. Photo & editing [Being Ruby]. #2 Anacapri: On the Isle of Capri, Italy. Photo & editing [Being Ruby]. #3: Sibyl of Delphi: From the Sistine Chapel Rome. Scan of poster. #4: Ancestors of Ruby: Vintage Family photo altered by [Being Ruby] . #5: the 14th Dalai Lama: Scan from postcard. #6: Blue Moon: Photo & editing [Being Ruby]. #7: Cat in Coliseum: Stray cat in the Roman Coliseum. Photo & editing [Being Ruby]

BLACK & WHITE Sunday: Inspiration & Remembrance

No. My photography skills haven’t suddenly improved. This Black & White Sunday I’d like to share with you one of my favourite B&W photographers, Ruth Orkin. This 1st large image below, simply named ‘American Girl In Italy’ has been part of my life now for many years. It once held position of privilege, hanging larger than life in my lounge, fuelling my dreams and imagination. It currently sits amongst other treasures in my garage waiting for it’s new home.

By no means forgotten, nor abandoned. Just waiting.

Art and photography can impact one on many levels. It fuels the imagination and allows one to dream and travel to places never seen, or always remembered. This image has influenced my life on many levels. It encouraged my dreams of one day travelling to Italy. Encouraged me to travel alone even when my mind was telling me I couldn’t do it. It reminds me to be strong and walk tall, and perhaps to walk a different path and be true to one’s own sense of uniqueness. It reminds me that inner beauty and inner strength is the substance required to make change and have purpose. Being different will always attract attention, whether it be admiration, or mocking. It stands out in the crowd and up to the bullies, and says quietly… I’m here…!

Some years ago, this image became somewhat cliché and over used in the Hairdressers, Cafes & Shoe Shops of Sydney. When art becomes cliché it is easy to overlook it, or reject it, but for me this image will always be a classic. An inspiration, a friend, a reminder. This image also brought me a new blogging friend by way of my first comments on her blog. This image has enriched my life.

It is a constant reminder of the diversity of people, cultures and the freedom of travel. You can't see all the fascinating details here, but the full version is overflowing with gorgeous details of Italian design, architecture & style and takes you on a stroll through the romance of Italy in the 50’s.

I recently found these further delights by way of these fabulous images below.

All taken in Florence in the early 1950’s, all of the same unique, mesmerizing subject. I also now have a moniker for my inspirational traveller… As unique as the owner herself …

For more fabulous Photography by the talented Ruth Orkin, head over to [this website]

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Today marks the 34th anniversary of my mother’s death. Jinx here reminds me a lot of my mother. Tall, Brunette [in her younger years], Strength of Purpose and Daring to be herself. I had intended to bring you a post celebrating her life, but it will have to be another time as I’m still searching for the right words and images to do it justice.

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Hosted by ‘Anne Marie of Na-Da Farm Life’

Pop over there to see other Black & White Sunday participants

Enjoy Your Sunday

IMAGES: Black & Whites – Ruth Orkin Colour Image: belongs to the family library of Being Ruby

Captain Kerosene: An Adventurous Life

This is the tale of Captain Kerosene. My maternal Grandfather. A Son of the British Empire. A Cabin Boy, a Sailor, a Soldier, a Husband, a Father, a Grandfather, but I think mostly a Fireman.

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Dagga [as we called him] died shortly after I started kindergarten, although his legacy and presence in my life remains strong to this day. He was a figure of imposing statue. Perhaps not through physical height, although he was tall, but height of character. A commanding, respected figure of authority, and that was just around the house,.. ha ha.. Yet despite his booming voice, hands that could span both mine with room leftover, he left me with a sense of security, protection, love and respect, and a grounded sense of belonging. He also taught us to ‘Speak the Queen’s English’ and ‘Put your shoulders back girl!’. Yet the overall feeling I recall is love.

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As a child I was entertained and fascinated by stories of this man who seemed invincible. Stories I thought had been tweaked into grandiose by their telling and retelling. Yet I would learn in later life that these stories had been not stretched beyond their truth. This was a man who spent his youth travelling the world looking for adventure. Be it as a merchant marine in his teens, one of only two who survived a shipwreck in the merciless Bay of Biscay. A soldier in the Salonican Army, fighting alongside the Allied Russians when separated from his troop. Awarded a lifetime pension by the Russians for his bravery and commitment. Now this one I surely thought a glossy fib until I found the papers, buried under other childhood remnants in my fathers garage.

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In the 1920’s he migrated to Australia, working for his passage aboard the merchant ship ‘Beltana’. It was here in Sydney he would find his destiny in both family and career.

A legend always needs a great moniker. According to a newspaper article I found, no one knows why. My mother though would tell otherwise. She told us colleagues awarded him this name for the volumes of ‘Fire He Had Eaten’ during his 33 years in the NSW Fire Brigade. She would tell us humorous stories of her youth living above the Firehouse he captained. And yet sadder stories of a grown man coming home from work and collapsing in tears from the horrors he had witnessed during days and nights of fighting fires within the Sydney CBD. In those days the ladders were wooden and building materials were not chosen for their fire retardant nature. Hence tragedies were an everyday occurrence in the life of a fireman. He went on to become Sydney Fire Brigade’s Drill Instructor and during the war trained the Police & Armed Forces in fire fighting. So as you can see, he was a legend, at least in the eyes of his family and colleagues.

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Of course there were also the funny stories. Stories of growing up with a strict British father [and drill instructor!] during the years of WWII, and then the more liberated years that followed. I imagine rearing a teenage girl above a Firehouse must of been one of his greatest challenges!.

I think for all his adventures, his lifelong loves would always be his family and the Fire Brigade

So Happy ‘Grand’ Fathers Day

You’ll forgive me for rambling on about my hero. Personally I think all Firemen [and Firewomen] are heroes!

My Black & White Sunday post can be found over [here]

Images: All images are from the family library of ‘BeingRuby’ [with the exception of the blue image from Ralph Lauren]