Happy 10th Birthday Facebook

Post by Grace Mimmo Fitzpatrick.

A beautiful and treasured gift I received today.

- Grace xo

Hello... Is it me you're looking for?

I am so excited

I have FINALLY got an iPhone 4 after patiently waiting for over a fortnight.

I am now in Adelaide getting acquainted with my new toy. I feel like a seven year old on Christmas morning. Thankfully this toy already has a working battery in it.

I am doing this post entirely on my iPhone as my laptop is unable to pick up our neighbour's trusty wifi, so please excuse any wierdness in appearance.

Tomorrow we prepare to head to Melrose in the Southern Flinders Ranges, where I'm certain there'll be many adventures ahead.

Until tomorrow, be sure to try something new even if it takes fifty times longer than normal.

Grace xx

Spot the Difference

Another mammoth day spring cleaning and I am completely exhausted.

My brain is too tired to come up with words and my eyes are too weary to notice spelling mistakes so I'm taking the easy way out...

I'm playing a game!

It's a time-honoured favourite called 'Spot the Difference'.

At first sight, you might be inclined to think that today's photo is the same as yesterday's, only there's something about it that you can't quite put your finger on it.

(It's a good thing you have 10 digits as that's how many you'll need to put on each of the differences)

I thought this bit of playful fun is quite apt after my bout of frenzied cleaning mania (which is still going I might add - at this rate I'll be cleaning till Christmas). To my eyes our kitchen looks completely different, however to someone who is not so intimate with the space, it just looks a little more sparkly.

Then I realised that this phenomenon doesn't stop at my freshly spruced up kitchen - it happens all the time. What about when you see someone for the first time after they've shaved off their moustache? changed their hairstyle? had cosmetic surgery? or acquired prescription eye wear? You just KNOW that there's something different about them, but you just can't pick it.

Equally, you don't notice when your cupboards start to bulge full of unwanted crap. You just know that you can no longer close your drawers, nor find your favourite serving spoons (which you later discover to be buried under 50kg (110 pounds) of useless utensils that you've never used in your entire adult life).

It's funny how our ability to spot differences is diminished when they're not side by side.

As much as I'd love to continue this conversation, my brain has just said "No more, we did a deal called Spot the Difference and you're about to breach it".

So with that, I bid you good night once more. Enjoy the game (answers in comments below) and I'm sure all this spring cleaning will amount to some incredible epiphany, which I'll be sure to share with you.

Until tomorrow, be observant and learn to spot differences - especially in cupboards, moods, behaviours and breasts.

Grace xx

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The 4th Grace

Today is my favourite day of the year.

The 1st of September marks the first day of spring here in Australia (though someone forgot to tell the weather gods about that today).

There's something about spring that is promising, despite the weather. The days will become longer, birds will sing and blossoms will spring. Out of all the seasons, spring is the most optimistic and for that I love it.

The first day of spring also marks the birthday of one of my gorgeous and dear friends. I have just finished cooking her a wholesome meal and am taking five (or twenty) to write this piece. So forgive me if it's brief.

As I looked about the place for an image that would grace this day's post, I noticed a painting hanging on the wall. As it turns out the title of the work is 'The Three Graces' which naturally begs the question, who's the fourth? (doesn't it?)

Not having to look further past my reflection in the mirror, the fourth Grace is indeed me. So I whipped off my shirt and after a few attempts at acting naturally nude, we agreed this photo was the more candid (of course it is). Interestingly, the photo was number 333 (half the devil's number - should I be scared?)

Okay, I'm rambling and trying to tie all of this together into a masterpiece - so here goes...

If each of the Graces depicted on the painting represents a season, then the fourth Grace (aka me) would have to be spring. Since starting Project Grace 2010, I have blossomed. I am wearing more colour than ever before (that is, when I'm actually wearing clothes - though the beads do give a good insight into shades of coral that can be found on my threads).

I feel like I'm coming out of a long dark winter. The days ahead are promising and there is a sense of optimism in the air... just like spring.

Until tomorrow, may there be a spring in your step no matter the weather.

Grace xx

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In the land of merlions and monsoon

So here I am in Singapore, the land of merlions, monsoon and the best ever black pepper crab.

Though it's technically not monsoon season, it appears someone forgot to tell the rain gods about that today as it has not stopped pouring since I touched down (Singapouring for that matter - ooooooh, bad joke - I'm delirious!).

My visions of lazing poolside with my new book "Petite Anglaise" did not come into fruition today. Instead I collapsed into bed near noon local time and roused six hours later when Pat got in from his flight.

Yes we're like royalty flying separately. I've made several jokes about having the eleven secret herbs and spices to a happy life but didn't get so much as a chuckle. It appears that failing to pursue a career in stand up comedy was wise.

Our hosts and dear friends Marc and Louise, who also own the Swiss chalet we stayed in a month ago, have got the bubbles on ice and we are about to celebrate life. I just love that. There's nothing more precious or more worthy of a Champagne celebration than now.

As I reflect on my last six weeks, I realise that there have been a number of nows worth celebrating... and if I didn't know it then, I know it now. I will raise a glass and nostalgically toast to what I have deemed to be an amazing experience - operating a tour during Le Tour de France.

I am pleased to announce that I've been invited back again next year and cannot be more delighted with that outcome. The next few days for me are about settling and setting sights on my future.

Until tomorrow, be sure to celebrate now with bubbles - be it Champagne or the bath kind.

Grace xx

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Summer in Paris

Today marks the first day of Summer in Paris.

The entire city is alive with music from sunup to sundown, and beyond.

So what am I doing here writing this?

Well firstly, there's not much sun about, it's very chilly outside and I'm allowing my hair to dry naturally (no hairdryer, and I don't want to get head freeze by going out prematurely).

Secondly, I have a big night ahead so I'm pacing myself.

Thirdly, I want you to virtually be a part of this magical experience with me so I've gone and found the perfect YouTube video to get you in the Parisian summer spirit.

So without further ado I bid you un bon été... now put on your dancing shoes and join me for a fabulous first day of summer in Paris.

Until tomorrow, may it always be summer where there's music playing - even if there's no sun about and it's freezing!

Grace xx

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Emotional First Aid

Do you remember the post I did in April titled When 99% Equals Fail? Well it all came back to me today as I sat a theory test for my St. John's First Aid course.

I was a little nervous when the exam booklet was placed in front of me. The initial uneasiness grew to a nagging anxious feeling that bothered me.

Perhaps haunted or harassed are more apt descriptors.

Would I get 99% AGAIN?

I wondered whether I could ever shake it off. The fear of failing by 1%. I started thinking of how today's story would end. Would it be a tale of triumph or woes of disappointment.

As I progressed through the questions, I began to feel more and more confident that I was indeed doing well. But the more confident I felt, the more doubtful I became. It was an emotional paradox. I was edging close to attaining a perfect score (I could feel it in my waters) and yet one simple or silly mistake could shatter my joy.

Then a miracle happened.

I remembered that I'm in the midst of a metamorphosis. My transformation yet to be complete, but near enough to know that my new attitude is about focusing on the 1%ers as gains as opposed to 99% equals fail. The moment I had this realisation, my shoulders relaxed, my breathing calmed and I continued to the end without further anxiety.

I was the second person to hand in their paper. I proceeded to the lavatory and upon returning, was called over to the examiner's desk. Unsure what to expect, I approached to find out that my paper had been marked during my brief exit. He was all too eager to announce that I had scored 100%.

I was thrilled.

The perfect result was more to do with me conducting emotional first aid on myself than my score on the first aid exam. I recognised the signs and symptoms of an old pattern playing out and was able to stop the infection before it consumed and disabled me. This is progress. Major progress. Thankfully, 'tis also a tale of triumph.

Until tomorrow, administer first aid at the first sign of infection.

Grace xx

PS. Happy 40th Birthday to my cousin Michael... I'm not far behind you!

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Monday Monday

At last, the moment you've all been waiting for...

Today I launched MONDAY MEASURES!

Okay, if you weren't waiting for it and have no idea what I'm taking about - I am committed to changing the mindset of those battling the bulge to shift our focus from weight loss to measurement reduction.

On the first Monday of each month, I'll be taking measures... of my waist, chest, hips and thighs. My aim is to demonstrate that measuring oneself is a more rewarding and accurate way of tracking fat loss. It opposes popular culture that obsesses over weight loss.

I've embedded my first Monday Measures YouTube video below for your convenience (aren't I thoughtful?)

In keeping with the Monday theme, it's time I tell you that I leave for Paris next Monday. Yes you read correctly, Paris. I'll be there one week from today - woohoo! You may or may not know that I'm hosting a tour of non-riders for Le Tour de France next month and I am soooooo excited I can hardly breathe.

I've got a tonne of work to complete between now and then, so my posts are likely to be brief. But don't worry, I'll more than make up for it by sharing my French and Swiss adventures with you - deal?

I have to go to bed now. I'm in the midst of a St. John's First Aid course, which is totally fascinating as well as brain draining.

I'm sure you'd be delighted to know that if you ever lost a limb in my presence, and I managed to save it from the jaws of a pet, I can competently wrap it in plastic and keep it chilled (not iced) until medical help arrives. At this point I should warn you that if I'm required to pop it in the refrigerator, I'll have to write 'Limb in fridge' on your forehead so the ambulance officers don't leave without it. Thought that'd make you sleep easier tonight. Fabulous.

Without further ado, I must retire and recharge my batteries.

Until tomorrow, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

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A Rocky Moment

Do you ever have moments when you feel on top of the world?

Invincible, strong, powerful and quite frankly, like a bloody legend.

That's what I call, a Rocky Moment.

In such moments I envisage myself on top of stairs jumping up and down with fists in the air, complete with the Rocky theme playing in my mind (...getting strong now).

A Rocky Moment can strike me anywhere, anytime. It is unpredictable, so I never know when it's going to hit.

Well this morning - I had one.

I'd just finished running 6km (3.73mi) in less than 50 minutes whilst still remaining within my 'fat burning' heart rate zone. It was a PB (personal best) that had endorphins intoxicating my body. I let out a little whimper "yes", but I really wanted to shout from the roof top - a - la Rocky.

I'm finding that these Rocky Moments are energising. They have me wanting to go back in the rink time and time again. Perhaps that's what makes a world champion. Who knows?

Until tomorrow, have a fabulous weekend full of Rocky Moments.

Grace xx

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Celebrating those at Stage IIII/ - Acceptance

This is the stage that we resist from day one.

WE DO NO WANT TO ACCEPT whatever has caused our grief, be it death, illness, disease, tragedy, loss or change.

We want it undone.

We fight it, resist, do anything to avoid it. We bury our head in the sand (denial), fight it tooth and nail for it is so unfair (anger), plead and beg for it to be reversed and go away (bargaining), until we become completely depleted and despondent (depression).

Then one day, we succumb (acceptance).

Does that mean we've given up?

At first, I thought it did - and that's why I fought against it so much. I have since invented a new meaning for acceptance.

Acceptance is giving up the struggle, but not the hope. It doesn't mean you have to like what has caused you grief, but you can live with it. It's about choosing to be okay. It's about moving on. It's about discovering new meanings to life that did not exist before.

Until tomorrow, may we have compassion for all those who are at various stages of grieving. Wishing you a speedy journey to stage five.

Grace xx

Bollywood Masala Saaga

Oh my goodness I AM SOOOOOOOO EXCITED!!!

I started my Bollywood dance classes tonight and I absolutely LOVED it - so much fun!

It's 10:30pm, I've just walked in the door and my eyes are popping out of my head. What a day. What a fabulous day.

Rewind.

It all started when we took our international guest to visit to my cousin's winery, Witchmount Estate, whose 2004 Shiraz won the 2008 Syrah du Monde (best Shiraz in the world). Luckily for us, the museum stock has just been released and we all snapped up a few bottles for a cool $80 each (bargain!)

I then parted company with Pat & Co. and met up with the delightful Year 8 student I'm mentoring at the Abbosford Convent, along with her mother and mischievous younger brother. The meeting adjourned a pot of tea later and I embarked on an hour's brisk walk to the dance studio. Unlike last week's high altitude training, this time I was adorned with rubber-soled Mary Jane mid heels (stylish AND practical).

I meandered in and out of wonderful little streets and cobbled laneways before I found myself in the same street as my friend's ultra funky design studio, Platform 5 (BTW as a result of this blog I was asked to write content for their website, which they're in the process of uploading. In the meantime, see 'Our Work In Words' and 'Disciplines' written by none other than your's truly).

It just so happened that as I was passing by, two people were pushing their bikes out the front door. I asked if Dan was still in. Affirmative. I slipped upstairs for a surprise visit (don't you just love that?) and within a few hugs, a micro chin wag and a wave goodbye, I was back on the road.

On the way to the dance studio I noticed a very groovy place I thought could be a good venue for the finale dinner with Shirley - our Singaporean amiga, Pat's coaching client and a dynamo pocket rocket (one in the same person). The intriguing exterior was framed by a kitsch-come-cool white picket fence with the words 'Southpaw' on one side and 189 Gertrude St on the other.

Upon closer inspection, the restaurant-bar was just fabulous, complete with quirky retro furnishings and enhanced by Parisian bohemian flavours. Très cool. The menu was tantalising so I booked a table for three at 7:30pm - just in time for me to return there after my Bollywood class.

I arrived at the dance studio 25-minutes early. Then I misread a sign on the door believing that it said class started a further 15 minutes later, thus leaving me a total of 40 minutes to fill in. I had the strong inclination to call my cousin, who lived a few blocks away. Turned out that she was visiting her dad (my uncle) in hospital, which was literally around the corner.

I ducked in for a half hour visit and returned to the classroom thinking I was 5 minutes early. Actually, I was 10 minutes late. The sign I'd misread was for 'Belly Dancing, 3rd May at 6:30pm' instead of 'Bollywood Dancing, 13th May at 6:15pm'. What planet was I on when I read that notice (twice I might add)...?

Luckily I only missed out on stretching (phew!). I was shrugging my shoulders, stomping my feet and shaking my hips in no time. Loved loved LOVED it. Still smiling.

After dancing, I met up with Patrick and Shirley for our last supper (she heads off to Brisbane tomorrow). Delicious food, AMAZING wine and superb ambience. Totally perfect.

So all in all, a massive day and I'm pooped!

It's now 11:30pm and my five minute post has turned into a Bollywood Masala Saaga*

Until tomorrow, go with the flow and see where it leads you.

Grace xx

PS. I've gone nuts with the hyperlinks today and I would like you to know it's because I WANT to do it - and not because I'm getting paid for it (haha - I wish!). Actually, I often get asked for details when I mention specific places in my blog, so I thought I'd save myself a dozen emails or phone calls by directing you via links. They're there if you want to follow them and if you don't - just don't click them. Too easy.

*Saag is an Indian spinach dish that I love (thought you might enjoy the pun) and yes, I did take that photo when I was in India last year.

How Much Are You Worth?

I recently had an enquiry from a literacy coordinator, who employed my services a few years ago.

I ran a four week writing workshop for a group of students who produced a picture book for their young school 'buddy' - very cool.

I learned that the coordinator had relocated to a different school and that my services were required once more.

Only this time it was to read my book to a younger audience. Equally cool.

It's always nice when somebody makes contact after moving to a different place of employment. It makes you feel like you did a fabulous job in the first instance. Very rewarding.

I was asked to submit a price - bearing in mind the school was on a 'tight budget'. I have to admit, I severely dislike that statement. It's like one of those really annoying Top 40 songs that's forever playing on the radio - enough already!

Unenthusiastically, I calculated an absolute base price. It's the minimum amount I'm prepared to work for that makes the effort worth my while. I submitted the price and after a few days was met with a very polite "I'm sorry, it's above our budget". Not so rewarding.

This is where it gets interesting.

The old me (pre-Project Grace 2010) would have interpreted that into something like, I'm not good enough, I am not worth it, blah blah blah. I would have agonised over how much more I could reduce my fee whilst simultaneously stripping myself of any trace of dignity.

But today, that did not happen.

Instead of my predictable response, I simply shrugged and said "oh well, too bad" and started writing this post. I have no desire to rethink my price, renegotiate ways we could make it work and so on. I just don't want to waste any energy on it. Simple.

THIS IS A MIRACLE!

What is happening to me? Whatever it is, I like it.

Until tomorrow, realise how much you are worth and be 'not-negotiable' about it.

Grace xx

Gracey Goes to Bollywood

Last night I finished my web design course (yes, I know many of you saw it written down a gazillion times on my Facebook page - but not everybody is on FB).

Since the first week of March, said course had been occupying my Wednesday and Thursday evenings (not to mention my mind every other time). Now that is no longer the case, I want to embark on something else, something new, something... BOLLYWOOD.

Yes, I am going to start Bollywood dancing and am SO excited! I've been wanting to do it for a while, but the Wednesday night classes clashed with my timetable. Not anymore. Woohoo!

In my jubilant state, I jumped on my Mac eager to put together an image that aptly reflects how the prospect of Bollywood dancing makes me feel - joyful, young at heart and totally digging the idea of bling bling dress ups!

While searching our personal library of 50,000 India photos, I came across this fabulous shot of a typical Indian street scene complete with giggling girls, basket-carrying man wearing a traditional dhoti and of course an animal - in this case, a wee little donkey. Refer Exhibit A.

As for the cute little girl, it's a montage of my grade prep head shot (we call our first year of school 'prep' - abbreviation of preparation..?) sitting on the shoulders of my gorgeous three year old niece, who incidentally played Bollywood dress ups with me a few weeks ago. As much as she's totally delicious, I won't be publicising any photos of her on my blog.

I think India is the country that reflects me the most. We could each be described as a 'masala' - a spicy mix of many things that people find interesting (not to mention crazy, extreme, generous, warm, quirky, colourful, bright, frustrating, thrilling, hilarious, grounding, solemn, moving, inspiring, poetic and spiritual). Incredible. The importance of family, traditions, and the modern independent woman's battle to free herself from obligations, also strikes a chord with me. As for the abundance of all things glittery, pretty and girlie - that's me to a chai.

So next week marks a new chapter in Project Grace 2010 and that is, Gracey Goes to Bollywood.

Until tomorrow, think about what you can do to spice up your life.

Grace xx

PS. Did you know that the Indians use the term 'masala movie' to describe a film with everything - drama, romance, comedy, tragedy and thriller? And that Indians call all tea 'chai' and the spicy mix that we're familiar with is called 'masala chai'? Perhaps the person who coined the idiom 'variety is the spice of life' was really talking about garam masala ;-)

Happy Little Camper

Something happened today.

I woke up feeling lighter than ever. In fact, I may have literally jumped out of bed.

I felt as though I had ants in my pants and all I wanted to do was, wait for it, washing!

Before my routine morning visit to the throne, I immediately started sorting out darks, lights, reds, towels and Lycra (being married to a cyclist means that anything shiny and stretchy is in a wash class of its own).

Perhaps airing the emotional laundry of yesteryear has motivated me to get stuck in today's pile of dirty linen, sooner than rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

When thinking of a photo that would represent how I'm feeling right now, a happy little camper, I couldn't go past these little beauties.

As you may have guessed from yesterday's mega-post, I have a penchant for shoes. These little Camper's (pictured) were a gift I purchased for myself in Sydney in 2002 (they're close to being vintage). They were my personal reward for winning the $15,000.

I would have NEVER spent over $230 on a pair of casual flip flop sandals (normally I'd wait for them to go on sale and if I missed out, console myself with "they weren't meant to be"). However the deal I made with myself after winning the money was to buy one thing that I 'wouldn't ordinarily buy', as the bulk of the money was going to something sensible - our house deposit.

These old-timer's are a perfect representation of how I'm feeling today. Playful, quirky, girlie and free. Oh, and just for the record, he loves me.

Until tomorrow, may tending yesterday's laundry give you a clean start today.

Grace xx