Snoskred - Life in the Country

Please welcome Lulu from Cherry Blossom Adventures to the blog -

This is the first time I have guest blogged on somebody else`s blog which is why this is out of my niche for me…

I grew up in Australia and was 19 the first time I lived in Japan…. after coming from a place where I had been driving since I was 16 and had to drive anywhere to be able to do anything it was an interesting transition to be able to walk outside 50m and buy an orange juice, or a beer…at 3am in the morning or any other time I chose. I also had to get used to riding a bike again, since there were no cars for us students and at that time we lived 20- minutes away from the station.

I had lived in Brisbane, just outside actually, most of my life in a place called the Redlands….it was near the water but my house really was in the middle of nowhere (My family lives bayside now)…..the closest shop was a 10-minute drive. My closest friend was a 10 minute drive….and my highschool boyfriend at the time was a 20 minute drive away and when we met neither of us could drive so we had to rely on our parents to shuttle us around.

Going from that to a place like Tokyo was a bit of a shock. Perhaps not as much of a shock as it would have been for someone from the country but a shock all the same.

I moved back to Tokyo 2 years ago now, to live with my boyfriend. He is Japanese, and yes we communicate in Japanese (one thing that isn’t convenient about Japan is the language…although it is not so much a problem for me anymore)…we lived in a tiny tiny apartment in a place called Kichijoji, which is in West Tokyo. It was a beautiful place, and I wish we still lived there now, except the 25m sq apartment wasn’t for me. But we lived a 2 minute walk from the closest train station, we had a 24hr 100yen shop across the road and a supermarket 100m away that was open until 2am everyday…If I had a craving for some chips at 3am I just had to walk across the road. If I ran out of beer during a house party, I just had to go across the road. If I wanted MacDonald’s I only had to walk around the corner…and it was a five-minute walk to the one of the nicest parks in Tokyo.

We still live in an apartment that is convenient (but thankfully bigger) a 6 minute walk from the station, a 3 minute walk to the supermarket and about the same as that to the local convenience store…We live closer to downtown Tokyo now and a taxi to Shinjuku costs $15 or a five minute train ride costs $1.60. It is not as convenient perhaps as where we lived before but it is a hell of a lot more convenient than where I was in Australia….We don’t own a car, and to tell you the truth we really don’t need one.

I am moving back to Australia in July this year for six months to a year so that I can spend some time with my family before my boyfriend and I get married and move back to Japan….he will study English and I will work in the city. I am not sure how I will go with having to drive to the supermarket or train station….or how I will go with paying $5 to catch the train when public transport is so much cheaper here. I love Australia, I really do, but will the convenience that is Japan have ruined me for Australia living?

Lulu is a 23 year old Aussie girl living in Tokyo with her Japanese boyfriend trying to make sense of the crazy but fun Japanese world she lives in. She has being blogging since mid 2006 - recently moving from Typepad to Wordpress at Cherry Blossom Adventures.

And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 17% [?]

Please welcome Sandy from Fighting Fatigue back to the blog -
Ever since the FDA approved the drug Lyrica for Fibromyalgia patients, skeptics have been crawling out from the woodwork to post their “opinions” on the validity of Fibromyalgia.

It amazes me that in this day and age, millions of people who are sick (3 - 6 million to be exact) with Fibromyalgia still feel as though they have to defend themselves and defend the fact that they are truly, physically ill.

I have been reading on different websites across the Internet comments such as:

- We are whiners who complained until someone gave us a drug to treat our so-called condition.
- People who legitimately suffer from chronic pain are few and far between.
- We are taking the easy way out by popping a pill and refusing to deal with the realities of life.
- We have so-called psychological issues due to the fact that we were neglected or treated unfairly as children.
- We expect the world to revolve around us and expect people to bow down to us because of our illness.

Yes, these are statements that I have been reading! All I can say to all of the Fibromyalgia skeptics who are out there, come live with me for one week. By the time you have spent 24 hours a day with me for 7 days, you will realize that it is impossible to fake this illness. Walk in my shoes for one day, one hour even, and you will have a new appreciation for what real strength is.

To those who don’t believe, I pray that the day comes where you are not struck down with a chronic illness. If you are, and if you seek out compassion, understanding and acceptance, remember how you treated others.

Sandy Robinson is 38, Female, live in the Northeast, married with a 6-year-old beautiful son. Sandy started the Fighting Fatigue website to help raise awareness and offer support to others for the chronic illnesses I Sandy personally suffers from: Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, and Interstitial Cystitis.

Sandy also runs the Fighting Fatigue Forum and Message Boards for chronic illness sufferers to support each other about what they are going through.

Sandy the incredible thing about this post is I could easily replace the words Fibromyalgia and chronic pain with words like depression and everything you wrote would still apply. I don’t think sufferers of Fibromyalgia are alone in feeling that lack of compassion, understanding and acceptance.

I sometimes think many illnesses are like the existence of God - either you believe they exist because you personally suffer from them or you know someone who does, or you don’t believe they exist. People with mental illnesses like depression often feel that same need to defend themselves and rather than try to prove they are ill, they’ll just shut up. Good on you for not being silent about this.

Sandy also wrote - Maintaining A Positive Attitude While Chronically Ill previously as a guest poster for get out of your niche here on the blog.

And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 18% [?]

Please welcome Sueblimely as today’s guest poster -

I haven’t suffered the agony of writer’s block since I started blogging, that is, until my mind turned to this guest post. I have learned, with trial and effort (there have been many trials to practice on) that life does offer solutions, if you open your mind and let it . Something I read yesterday brought the solution that I should have thought of myself. I will write about a subject that has been a daily part of my life for 17 years now.

If you have heard of Fragile X Syndrome, you are probably still in the minority. When I heard the word 14 years ago it was only after 3 years of searching for the answer and 3 years of doubting my ability as a mother. Surely it must be my fault that all my son’s the niggly little illnesses, infections, ear infections, rashes and 3 years of a runny nose were due to lack of proper care and hygiene; his slow development a result of post natal depression, which saw me hospitalized for a month when he was 6 months old. Three years of doctors and nurses ignoring my concerns: “he is just a slower developer than your other two were my dear - he is doing things within the normal limits”. I can imagine the notes they made - “neurotic mother, suffers from anxiety and depression ” Doubts were my constant companion. Certainly having two older children who walked by 9 months, could read by 10mths, play the piano by 11mths … must be clouding my judgment - you detect exaggeration there - quite correct but they were in general earlier than the norm in all their ‘baby steps’.

When my son was 3 my health center nurse saw the light and referred me to a Pediatrician. I wanted to switch that light off again, wanted to believe all I had been told over the last three years. I did not want to believe a dismissive doctor who told me my son had a developmental disability, that it was unlikely the cause could be found (so he was not going to try) and “please close the door on your way out”. The first stage of grief hit, knocked me for six - denial and isolation. Thankfully the second arrived soon after; the anger that propelled me to action. If this b… doctor is not going to bother to even try finding an answer then I damn well was. My normal determination and single-mindedness returned in strength. A couple of months later I found my savior, a pediatrician, specializing in disability, who had heard of Fragile X and knew of a few things to look for. Seeing my son constantly flapping his hands in excitement (throw him off a cliff and he would probably be able to fly), noticing that he had only one palmer crease instead of two on his hand and that he was quite double jointed (he still relaxes on his bed with head resting on his foot!), he sent us for tests. Yes us, plural.

The results: my son suffers from Fragile X syndrome, the most common known cause of inherited intellectual disability and I believe the only known cause for an Autism Spectrum disorder. I am a carrier, as is my older son. My daughter is clear of the condition, as she inherited my X chromosome that does not have the Fragile X fault on it. Both my daughter and older son have an IQ near genius level.- not telling you mine :-). My mother was a carrier too, as I suspect was her father.

Was I upset by the results - no way. I had had to accept my son’s disability, but not being able to do anything had been tearing me apart. Now I went into action.. Read, research, learn, teach. A foot high mountain of bits and pieces of medical research from around the world was soon transformed into 20 pages of information, written in layman’s terms. This was then used by a fledgling Fragile X Support Group as an information package for those impacted by Fragile X - and to teach the medical profession, which was required regularly in the early days.. More importantly I had an insight into why my son behaved as he did, which was a huge help to me in dealing with it and helping him cope in life. My self esteem improved, there was a reason for his autistic tendencies, ADD, allergies, rashes, ear infections, eye problems, vomiting 30 times a day, lateness in talking, walking, hand flapping and why he could put his legs over his head with incredible ease. There was a reason why this adorable child could melt hearts with his smile even though he could not look them in the eye. His is a sociable kind of Autism. The world and its stimuli full of sights, smells, taste, touch and sounds are often too much for my very precious “Fraggle” to deal with but he is interested in it and its people.

I also found an answer for my own intermittent problems with depression and constant anxiety, which had ranged from mild to “stop the world I want to get off.”. Us female Fragile X carriers tend to be like that. I eventually, stubborn fool that I was, got the whole gamut of help I needed for this; which changed my life. Life is good.

When I read yesterday that a drug to cure Fragile X Syndrome is likely to go into clinical trials as soon as this year imagine how pleased I was. I have written about it on a site that I am developing for a friend who was part of that fledgling support group I mentioned earlier. Possible drug treatment for Fragile X Syndrome. Please take some time to read the details on Fragile X and check out the links for more info. There are many children out there with Fragile X who have not been diagnosed. Male Fragile X carriers suffer from a condition known as FXTAS which can be misdiagnosed as Parkinsons. Female carriers are more likely to suffer from depression, anxiety, early menopause and have twins. The more people who are aware of the condition, the more children and adults will get the help they need.

My nephew is autistic, though it wasn’t diagnosed until he was around 4. It can be quite frustrating to communicate with him. I absolutely adore him but I don’t think I could handle it on a daily basis. Enormous kudos to all the mothers out there with kids who suffer from any kind of disability, no matter how small it may seem.

You can read more from Sueblimely at Blogging Sueblimely.

And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 24% [?]

Please welcome Kelley from magneto bold too! with today’s guest post.

I was 6 when my dad got cancer for the first time.
Hodgkins lymphoma. Back in the late 70’s there was not a lot they could do.

They gave him 3 months to get his affairs in order.

I remember him coming home after that diagnosis. My brother and I in bed in our shared bedroom. An enormous room in our newly rented house after coming ‘home’ from a year living in rural Queensland. A room with a huge scary picture of the Queen in one corner, a wall of window and a makeshift partition to give us our own space.

He was drunk. Although I didn’t understand that at the time, as my father never drank. He was yelling and screaming and my mother was crying.

I was worried that he might wake the bird.

Kids.

He went to hospital. We played. We went to school. We made cubbies in the yard and collected skinks in an old pool.

One afternoon I was sitting in the lounge marvelling at how amazing eyes were. I was eating an orange and it squirted in my eye. It stung. Then I started contemplating how eyes work in my fascinated, unlimited imagination. It involved little men with levers and a boss with glasses giving out orders. And they were yelling cause I got orange juice all over their floor.

My mum came in and told me we were going to visit Daddy at the hospital.

We went on the train. We had icecream. We went to the bookstore and bought a book for Daddy and a book for me. Kids Own Book. It had activities and fun stuff to do in it. I was so excited about showing Daddy that book.

Down streets, up elevators, walking down scarily long corridors and finally we were at Daddy’s room. He was smiling. He looked tired. And skinny. But the other people in the room looked worse. But that was OK, cause this is the place that would make Daddy feel better and then he could come home and I could sit on his lap and cuddle again.

I looked out the window while my parents talked like adults. Boring adult stuff. I don’t remember the details. I was staring at the Nylex sign. The time keeper of Melbourne. An icon. Not that I knew that at the time, it was just a really cool, really big clock.

Soon it was time to go home. I don’t remember leaving. We went to McDonalds.

Kids. Funny the things they remember. So insular. Such a blessing.

A few days later Daddy was due to come home. But we weren’t allowed to go near him. Something about being radioactive.

I told the kids at school and they thought it was so cool. They said he would glow green! So in the middle of the night my brother and I crawled on our hands and knees to look under his bedroom door.

There was no glow. There was no pulsing light. We were jipped.

I don’t remember any more from that time. And that is because this is a happy tale.

Almost 30 years later my Daddy is still here. He was the doctors guinea pig. They tried every single experimental drug they could find on this young strapping healthy man with a death sentence. Drugs that today are common place. Therapies that are now saving thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of lives today.

Not that my Daddy had a choice in the matter mind you, but I like to think that my Dad made his mark on the world. A wonderful positive mark. And he did it with grace and quiet dignity so that all his children remember of that time is what they ate and a huge freaking clock outside his hospital window.

Now how was that for out of my niche? Seriously. No potty mouth in sight.

Kelley is a self-confessed potty mouth blogger and shoe addict. A fellow Aussie Blogger, Kelley is part of a new project which I am a big part of - one of the reasons I haven’t been around so much lately, details to follow soon. I am a huge fan of her blog and admire her for feeling free to use language on her blog which I was a bit gutless about using here.

You can read more from Kelley at magneto bold too! but be aware there is language present which may offend some readers.

And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 17% [?]

Please welcome Lightening from the fabulously raspberry and pink colored Lightening Online to the blog -
When I first contemplated taking part in Life in the Country’s “out of your niche”, I discounted the idea on several levels. The first of which was my own confidence in my ability to write something that anyone else would want to read. That’s kind of a funny attitude for a blog writer to have really. But when I first began my blog I wasn’t considering the fact that anyone would actually read what I had to say. It was more for me than for anyone else.

It wasn’t until I began venturing out into the wider blogosphere (wider than myself and a few friends) that I read the idea that a blogger should really decide exactly where their “niche” is if they’re going to have a successful blog. The idea of a “successful blog” did appeal to me somewhat. I liked getting up of a morning and discovering that people had actually visited the blog. Even better, some would take the time to stop and leave a comment. I even got a few “thankyou, you really made me think” or “thank you, your post today made me smile” type comments. Wow! What a buzz!!!!

But having a “niche”???? The concept continues to allude me. My blog isn’t JUST about being a mum, or cooking, or gardening, or someone on the path to recovery from a nervous breakdown. It’s not really about simple living or frugality or making others smile. I can’t really claim to have menu planning down pat or say that my blog is mainly about home organization (okay, it’s not even a little bit about home organization lol). It’s all of those things and more. The only common denominator I can put it down to is “me”. My blog is about “me”. Is that a niche? I have no idea!!!

So if I don’t really know what my “niche” is in blogging terms, how can I really write a post that is “out of my niche”? Hmmmm…… maybe I was overthinking this idea just a tad (who me??? LOL).

After some thought it occurred to me that I could write what I DO know about a “niche”. To me a “niche” is a place where I feel comfortable. So, I consider the idea of “stepping out of your niche” as being similar to stepping out of your comfort zone.

Well, I certainly stepped out of mine about 12 years ago. I took pride in my standing as a “city girl”. In fact, it never occurred to me that I might be anything BUT a “city girl”. I spent my teenage years in Melbourne (the capital of Victoria in Australia) and it’s a place I’m still very passionate about. So how did I end up living out in the middle of nowhere on a farm? I married a farmer!

The day I met the man who is now my husband, carries with it quite a funny story. In the first conversation I had with him, I told him point blank that I didn’t want to be a farmers wife. I have no idea why! I don’t usually make comments like that to blokes I’ve just met. It wasn’t some premeditated decision I had made at some point in my life. In fact, I wasn’t even AWARE that I didn’t want to be a farmer’s wife until those words flew out of my mouth that day.

Admittedly, like many girls, I had wonderful visions of a knight in shining armor galloping into my life and whisking me away to a life of beauty and luxury. Never once did said knight come wearing a dusty old Akubra and a blue bonds singlet!!! LOL. But still….it was a rather strange conversation to say the least. If nothing else, it made good speech fodder for the wedding reception!!!

I’ll skip over all the boring bits of the past 12 years. I did suffer withdrawal symptoms for MANY years over the fact that I couldn’t just pop out for a few hours shopping. BUT I was rather relieved to discover that the farm did indeed have electricity and even a TV! Hey, these days we even have Broadband internet access – we really do live in the real world! (well….. almost).

I stepped out of my “niche” and married a farmer. Am I glad I did? Every day! Mostly because he is the most awesome man I could ever imagine being married to. But there is more to it than that. I love the open space, the beautiful views and the peace and quiet that we have out here. I love the way my children have plenty of room to move and run around and numerous places to explore. I love many parts of the lifestyle that living in the country has to offer.

It has occurred to me that had I not been prepared to step out of my comfort zone, I would have missed so much that life had to offer me. Yes, it is scary to take that step away from the comfort zone but many times it is oh so worth it! It is at these times that we learn and grow so much.

To me, that is what life is really about – learning and growing every day! In fact, if you visit my blog you may notice that one of my own definitions of the word “Lightening” is “to learn and grow daily”. It has become an important part of my own purpose in life (and therefore in blogging) that I learn and grow daily.

Recently I took another step out of my comfort zone when I took up Snoskred’s offer of moving my blog to a self-hosted site. This also meant switching from a blogging platform I had become very familiar with (blogger) and moving to the unfamiliar (Wordpress). I am enjoying Wordpress but I can also say that it is stretching me in many ways. I sure am learning EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. But oh, what I would have missed out on had I not been prepared to take that step. My blog looks like a million bucks in comparison to my tired old Blogger blog. It far surpassed my wildest expectations. And the options now available to me with my blog are so much wider than what I had before. Well, I have to learn how to use half of them first, but that’s okay….that’s good in fact!

I could have stayed with my old blog where I was nice and comfortable. But to have done so would have meant I’d have missed all the wonderful things that my new blog has to offer me. I have gotten so much MORE than a new blog out of this experience. My confidence in my own ability to learn new technical stuff has grown in leaps and bounds. I have met some wonderful bloggers and discovered the generosity that abounds in many sections of the blogworld. I have learnt that some people don’t mind when you ask them questions. That in fact they LIKE to be helpful. Every day when I open my blog, it makes me smile. That in itself is a wonderful gift.

(When I first planned to write this piece, I hadn’t yet decided to switch my blog to a self-hosted site. But it has ended up working in just nicely with what I was planning to write about.)

I want to encourage each one of you reading this to have the courage to step out of your comfort zone today. Whether it be deciding to take your blog to the next level, applying for a new job or promotion or simply saying hello to a neighbour you’ve never spoken to before. Take a step away from your comfort zone and watch how you and the world around you grows. Spread your wings and fly. It’s time to get “out of your niche”.

I cannot remember how I stumbled across Lightening’s blog originally. The amount of times I have just been surfing around clicking on links and found someone who eventually becomes such an important part of my daily internet life still amazes me. Lightening is one of the people I truly adore - though this may come to her a a surprise because I don’t normally tell people that.

I watched Lightening struggle with Blogger for a long time. The truth is that Blogger is not the most user friendly when it comes to wanting something unique and special. Sure, you can install your own template and change the colors but you really have to know what you’re doing to make it work. Those like me who didn’t have the confidence or technical ability found it much harder. Sephy was the one who made my Blogger theme work - I messed with it for days and just ended up angry and frustrated.

So I’m thrilled you made that move Lightening - and I do think you are probably finding self hosted Wordpress to be a lot easier than you expected? I know I am. People often think I am this technically capable person but the truth is - I often have to find how to guides, I often have to ask for help from The Other Half, I’m always learning how to do new things too. So to find now that not only can I do website design to the level that I’ve recently managed, but I can also do graphics that I think look incredible.. If I can do it, anyone can.

Remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 21% [?]

Please welcome Sandy from Fighting Fatigue to the blog -

As someone who has suffered from chronic illness for almost 20 years, I know firsthand how difficult it can be to maintain a positive attitude while sick. But in order to survive, and because my illnesses are “chronic”, never going away, I have had to learn how to deal, adjust and cope despite multiple health problems.

I have been sick with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia and Interstitial Cystitis for most of my adult life. Being afflicted with just one of these illnesses can be disabling, but put all three together and life can be pretty miserable at times. I have had to give up my career due to my illnesses, but I refuse to let that stop me. Even though I am sick, I do not use that as an excuse to give up on life. I may not be able to do the things I once did, with the same energy and focus, but I am still alive and each day is a gift and I’m grateful to be alive.

I have seen too many people who are sick just give up and not try. I know that being chronically ill takes a toll on a person’s body physically and emotionally. But there are ways to keep from getting depressed and from living in the “pity party” mode 24 hours a day. I don’t want this to sound as though I think I’m better than anyone else who is chronically ill because I’m not. It has taken years of my own pity parties, depression, and mastering coping skills to get to where I am today. I still have times where I think “Why me? Why can’t I go and work like everyone else?” but I only allow myself a five-minute pity party and then I move on.

Here are some coping skills that I have learned over the years to help deal with being chronically ill and in chronic pain:

- Keep a journal and write in it daily what you are grateful for. I call this my “gratitude journal”. Even though I might wake up and not be able to do anything other than wash my hair, I record that I am grateful that I was able to do that small task. It helps through the difficult times and it makes you realize that even though things may be bad, there are still positive spins you can put on each situation.

- When you feel like complaining, smile! A lot of people are usually amazed when they find out how many health problems I have because I try not to let it show. When I am very miserable I am not able to be out in public, but I never feel good - ever. But I always try to keep a smile on my face because smiling just makes everything seem better.

- Read positive, uplifting books. I have found this to be especially helpful. When I start to feel a little down or depressed, I will go to my small library and choose a book that has inspirational sayings or quotes and I will read those until I feel better.

- Instead of becoming a victim of “poor me”, become a victor and learn from your experiences, grow and help others. I have used my struggles with chronic illness as a positive in my life by starting my Fighting Fatigue website and my Fighting Fatigue Forum to offer support and resources for others suffering from chronic illness. When we first become ill with a chronic illness, we feel as though we are alone. It’s important to have people to talk to who can share what you are going through.

- Never give up hope! One thing that keeps me going is believing that there will be a cure found for the chronic illnesses I suffer from. I always have hope and when you have hope everything looks brighter.

Sandy Robinson is 38, Female, live in the Northeast, married with a 6-year-old beautiful son. Sandy started the Fighting Fatigue website to help raise awareness and offer support to others for the chronic illnesses I Sandy personally suffers from: Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, and Interstitial Cystitis.

Sandy also runs the Fighting Fatigue Forum and Message Boards for chronic illness sufferers to support each other about what they are going through.

Thanks for a fantastic post Sandy. All of us can benefit from the coping skills you mention. Please check out her website and message boards and if you know anyone suffering a chronic illness be sure to point them in that direction.
And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 33% [?]

I’m running out of guest bloggers for the Get Out Of Your Niche series. I know that coming up to Christmas everyone is busy and all, but I am hoping that people will put up their hand to guest post if I ask nicely.

What Is The Deal?

The idea is to create a guest post for my blog. You can write on any topic you like. Anything and everything is welcome, with a couple of small exceptions like swear words and material which is disturbing or graphic or overly sexual. The guest posts are published on Fridays each week.

How Do I Do It?

Contact me and I will give you the next available date sometime in the future. A week before that date I generally try to remind you via email that your guest post is coming up. You send me your post - it can either be in text, or in HTML format. If you want me to add pictures attach them to your email and tell me where in the post they go.

Why Would I Do It?

Life In The Country is currently sitting at number 14 in the Top 100 Australian Blogs. On average the blog sees between 2-5,000 unique visitors a week. This is your chance to speak to an audience which might not find your blog otherwise.

What Did Other People Write?

• Fabicus - Country Life
• Liv - Out Of Her Niche
• Thomas - A Tale Of Three Kitties
• Children Hold The Key To Blogging - Brown Baron Out Of His Niche
• Tiffany - About Where I Live
• Stephen Cronin - Life In Australia - Looking Forward
• Kin - Politics In A Small Town
• Forest Parks - Life In This Country
• Ray Dotson - Out Of His Niche

How Do I Contact Snoskred?

Simply use the contact form.

Popularity: 21% [?]

I was approached by Snos a couple of weeks ago to do a quick post “out of my niche”, which for me could be hard, since I don’t really have a niche, per sé. However, I’ve gone with a cunning plan - show off a few of my favorite photos of animals and stuff in my world.

Just so you know, I’m using the thumbnail option, so if you click on the photos, they will load full-size.

As I was perusing the photos, I found this one of some of the horses that one of our neighbors has not quite staying in their paddock earlier in the summer. True story - a couple of weeks ago, I was walking and I saw a shadow cross the road ahead of me. I didn’t know what it was, but as I got further down the road, I looked down this same driveway and saw one of the horses standing there.

This is, by far, the best photo of a (living) turkey that I have, even if it is walking away. It was taken a couple of months ago as the pack were moving across the road and up the hill that is there.

Here’s the web’s most famous gopher, I would suspect. You might have seen this picture before. I’ve used it for a few other things around the show.

I had posted this camel way back in August of 06. It was literally standing there with its owner on the side of the road next to a community park. Apparently the owner lives right in that area and is well-known for having his camels.

One of the neatest things about the fall where I live is that we have such vibrant colours in our trees. This year wasn’t too spectacular, but this picture from 2005 more than makes up for the lack of decent colors this year.

Another thing that we’re somewhat well known for is the abundance of lakes in the area. This was a shot taken early this summer alongside one of those lakes. It was a weekday, so there weren’t too many people out there using the lake.

I spotted these in a flowerbed along the road as I was walking in August; they’re pretty good looking, aren’t they?

Thanks, Snos, for letting me show off my photos. I had another 20 to show off that I had processed for posting when I was reminded that it was only “a few” photos. I posted them a couple of weeks ago - More of my world in Pictures.

Popularity: 11% [?]

Hi there. I’m Ray Dotson. Some of you may know me from reading FreshBlogger.com where I usually (occasionally) blog. I’ve been so kindly asked to provide a guest post for Life In The Country and can’t say how honored I am to have the opportunity. Being a blog about living, and particularly about living from the perspective of a personal known to most out here as Snoskred, I thought I would write a little bit about living from my own perspective.

I live in the northern part of the State of Kentucky (it’s actually officially a Commonwealth, but there’s no real difference) in the United States. This is what the East and West coasters call ‘fly-over country’ because they consider it not worth stopping in, but only a part of the country they fly over when going from coast to coast.

Most people in the world probably think of the big cities in the USA when they think of America. Images of New York City or Los Angeles would come to mind first. Maybe they would think of all the wealth and prosperity and glitter in those bright, shiny places, home to celebrities and politicians. A lot of the people in the United States do live in these big cities and do live along the East and West coasts of this country.

However, there are many people who live in between and a great number of them don’t ever visit the coasts or see the big famous cities, other than on television and in the movies. I’ve read somewhere that a significant portion of Americans never travel beyond 50 or 100 miles from where they were born. I wonder if this is still true.

As for myself, I’ve traveled around the states a little bit, but I’ve never been to New York or Los Angeles and only briefly passed through Chicago. I live near to and work in a medium sized city called Cincinnati, Ohio. Some of you may have heard of it before. It’s a place with a peculiar sort of fame in that the great American writer Mark Twain once said that he’d like to be in Cincinnati when the world ends because everything happens five years later there.

What’s humorous about this is that it still rings true a hundred years later. It’s a city with several million people living within about a 30 mile circle, but feels like a small town in so many ways. Though I live across the Ohio River in Northern Kentucky, I was born in Cincinnati and lived much of my younger life there. Today, I work at a community college in Cincinnati and spend quite a lot of time in and around the city.

Cincinnati is an interesting place with quite a lot of history. It was founded at the end of the 18th century during a time of many bloody battles in this area between the native inhabitants and European settlers. Contrary to popular belief, many of the natives of this land got along well with the newcomers from across the sea, while many others fought tooth and nail for several hundred years. There were literally hundreds of tribes of people living here who split their allegiances between the British Empire and the American revolutionaries.

Like in those days, America is a place of many different tribes and allegiances. Most of us here in the United States, though, work hard for a living and take our two weeks of vacation each year, like many other people in the industrialized world. Well, except we seem to take less time off of work for some reason. I’ve often wondered if this has come from the Puritan roots of America.

The first settlers to this country were strict religious types who were fleeing persecution from the authorities in their native countries. Many others were criminals, indentured servants, and poor people looking for a new beginning. When they arrived here, I imagine a number of them were shocked at the harshness of this land.

In the first colonies, existence was tenuous. Starvation and disease took a great toll of those first generations. A lack of diplomacy combined with fear and desperation likely precipitated serious problems with those who already lived here. Sounds like fun, huh?

It seems that each country in the world has a sort of common characteristic that has developed over time due to the events that have formed them. Consider that the British Isles was invaded continuously by European tribes for hundreds of years. The population was almost completed wiped out by war and disease time and again in the Dark Ages. As a student of English Literature, it’s clear that the English language’s strange structure and plethora of irregularities stems from the influx of so many different cultures and languages.

In the United States, it’s the sense of rugged individualism that seems to be a defining trait. What this refers to is that ability of a person to stand up for his or her own beliefs and pursue their desires regardless of the opposition, whether it’s harsh weather, dangerous animals, or disapproving peers. I’m not sure if they teach this in schools anymore here, but when I was growing up, this was something that was taught with pride. These days, however, it sounds more like a pejorative in a world where individualism often is subservient to collectivism.

Don’t misunderstand this as being a talk about politics or diplomacy, but a sort of casual observation of American culture by someone born and raised here. A rumination, if you will, on the soul of America. Clearly, there are both negative and positive aspects to this idea of rugged individualism.

I think many countries reach a stage when they have to decide who they really are. They come to a point of national cultural adolescence and the changes they go through can be tumultuous. The United States, being a relatively young country at not much more than 200 years old, has been going through something like this for several decades now. Think about the smart mouthed 13 year old as the 1960’s all the way up through the jaded 18 year old of the 1990’s. The next decade or two is about coming of age. Being legal. It’s an exciting, but scary time.

Though, I’m fascinated by the rest of the world’s cultures and have a great desire to travel all over this beautiful planet, I love living in the United States and I also love being an American. I’m not afraid to say it. There are mistakes that have been made, but mistakes are what people do best. Hopefully, we can all learn from our mistakes and make the future a better one, individually, as a society, and as a world full of people with fundamentally similar needs and desires. Without any commentary on present politics, the United States is still a great place to live, and despite some things people may hear in other parts of the world, it’s a very welcoming and tolerant place in many regards.

Ultimately, people will think what they want, but I hope I’ve given you a little perspective on a place you may know well or may not know at all. I welcome any comments and thank Snoskred once again for the opportunity to share my words with her readers.

Thank you Ray, a very appropriate post for Election Day here in Australia, where my country is currently deciding who we really are. We might be the same as we’ve been for the last 11 or so years, or we might think it is time for a change. Either way an evening of cheesecake and my favourite election analyst, Antony Green, looms ahead of me.

In many ways our country follows your country and we’re about the same age. But we get 4 weeks of holidays a year. And some lucky people among us get even more than that!

Remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 11% [?]

This week Forest Parks has dropped by to get out of his niche. Enjoy!

I grew up in London, UK but recently I have finally made the brave step of moving across the high seas and now live in Montreal, Canada.

For years I had wanted to leave for a foreign land but always found excuses or ended up tied down to something. So to actually finally be somewhere new is still unbelievable.

When Snoskred gave me the opportunity to write this guest post, I suddenly realised that I had no idea what to write about. I knew an opportunity had been given to me to show some new readers my writings. The pressure was on to write something that was at least informative and entertaining enough for anyone who does not read my blog. Hopefully I have managed to do that!

So in line with some of the other guest posts and with the title of this great blog, I am going to write about this city and my time here thus far.

© Forest ParksI have visited Montreal a few times before, so it wasn’t a complete leap of faith and I was already familiar with the layout and general buzz of the city. Montreal thrives on it’s interesting mix of North American and French-influenced culture, as well as a large immigrant community and a very open minded artsy approach to life. This makes it a very vibrant city. Somehow the streets manage to perspirate both non stop excitement and laid back aromas, and it truly is a city that allows you operate anytime at your own pace and leisure.

Being addicted to blogging, I often find myself relaxing in downtown coffee shops using the ’sans fil’ to connect to the net or relaxing on my bed at home in the leafy area of Westmount.

Westmount is only a 25 minute walk from all the buzz and is billed as the ‘English’ area, sporting English styled buildings with details of French-class, all set amongst rows of glorious maple tress and green parkland. It’s a cool place to walk around on a lovely clean, crisp autumn day.

When I manage to pry myself away from the evil MacBook, I can be found working in the trenches of Hurley’s Bar on Crescent Street, preparing food and making sandwiches for the many tourists and business peoples who frequent the lovely mock-Irish bar. Hurley’s is a great place to work. As one of Montreal’s more well known pubs, it attracts a large amount of clientèle. It can get busy, but with a great crowd of young (or at least young at heart) and enthusiastic co-workers, things always get done. Everyone gets on superb.

Strangely, I have found that I actually drink less now that I work in a Bar, but have been known to spend the odd inebriated night in the English styled Cock’n'Bull. It’s a great (and in Montreal terms) old pub with an endless list of elderly locals to chat with and hear unbelievable folklores. There is also a vibrant student crowd and interesting themed nights, such as Monday Craft Night’, keeping you entertained.

Bars and Restaurants are another forte of this ever talented city. Me and my partner Lara especially like walking over to the East side where all manor of different restaurants can be found. Just the other day we dined in a fantastic Ethiopian restaurant. Given no instructions and no cutlery, we found ourselves conjuring interesting ways to get the extremely pleasant food into our bellies, without ruining our clothes. This area also has some great Bars such as the grundgy hockey-hole: Barfly. Plus there’s a very nice little wooden affair, known as Yermad, which I think may be French for “Very Nice Little Bar” (I’m unsure on that translation. Maybe I should look it up!).

The East is the predominately French-speaking area. Its buildings and attitude reflect this, with winding staircases and a more grubby, weathered, but uber-cool feel. This, I guess is why it has become a big hang out for the many students that reside here.

© Forest Parks
Two huge Universities (McGill and Concordia) as well as endless technical schools, make sure that it’s impossible to take a snapshot of any area without pointing out a handful of these little scoundrels whizzing around between bars, bookshops, libraries, coffee shops and school. Montreal is infested with students.

A little further East still brings you to ‘The Village’. Sounds important, hey? Well, this is the so-called ‘Gay’ area. Here you can find (yep you guessed!) more bars and fantastic terraces to hang out (if there’s warm weather), not to mention some very flamboyant people. Full body spandex suits and hi-fashion punks are not uncommon here. It becomes a sight seeing exercise in itself. I love the openness and commend any city that is proud of its sexual diversity.

The flamboyance and obscureness is not restricted to one little area. All over the city you can see it, from homeless people displaying crazy signs like ‘Help me, my parents were killed by The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’. Or take, for example, an old man with full-on Hells Angels get-up, riding a pink bicycle, to a guy that tries to hold you up at ‘banana’ point and extract small change from you. I promise you the visual fun never ends.

© Forest ParksHowever, talking about the homeless situation moves me to talk about a darker side. Montreal seems to have an extremely high homeless population. At times it gets overwhelming and you find yourself detaching. They can be very offensive, hassling you for money, swearing at you. Sometimes they start to feel like seagulls that have built up the courage to swoop close enough to humans, making you feel extremely awkward. I am trying consciously to avoid these feelings. Winter is coming and I really can’t see how these people will survive -40 weather. I am having a hard time working out how even me, in my privileged situation, will have enough warm clothing and easy access to transport.

There is also a large Native population. The general attitude towards these First Nations People leaves me sour. In many cases, labelled as “Junkies” and “Drunks”, this downtreading and the systematic lack of opportunities, in my opinion, is really holding these people back from fully integrating and being accepted as they should be.

Like all cities, Montreal is not perfect. But this is one of the things that keeps it feeling like a dynamic and interesting place to be right now.

During my 3 months here, I really haven’t scratched the surface of this enchanting place. Spending most of my time downtown and in the surrounding areas, I’ve not ventured out to experience the whole island. I would love to do a 100 mile hike around it’s perimeter.

Life is interesting once again and the move out of my comfort zone has paid off.

Thank you Snoskred for letting me blog out of my niche.

You’re welcome Forest - it was well worth it! An excellent guest post. I do wonder why Montreal? Many Brits move overseas to places with warm weather - Spain and Brisbane in Australia are two that immediately jump into my head as places with a lot of Brits. No -40 degree days there. No snow. I tell you what though, if you’re looking for advice on how to survive cold winters Sephy will have a few ideas for you being as he lives in the snow belt of the USA.

It’s almost time for me to start stalking some guest bloggers again, which I will be doing very shortly! Before I come looking for you, why not volunteer? You can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

Popularity: 11% [?]

This week regular commentor here at Life In The Country Kin is getting out of her niche. Enjoy!

Believe it or not I had chosen my topic for this post before Mr Howard called the election, but small town politics (both official and unofficial) is such a huge part of my town, that to discuss my life here without mentioning it would leave such a huge hole in the story, I may as well not tell it.

We moved here 5 years ago. From one tourist strip, to another. Our previous tourist strip had 200,000 people. Here there are just 5,000. While a fairly small community, it’s different to the “country” town 15 minutes down the road, where surnames are street names, and several generations have lived in the same house. My town is transient, full of backpackers and young people working their way around Australia. Retiree’s are also well represented. I mean where else would you want to retire to?

We’re never short of anything to do in town here. Apart from the Great Barrier Reef being on our doorstep, there’s a seemingly continual procession of activities that start in January, and only let up in December for all the Christmas functions.

But when there’s such a small community, it really requires a large proportion to be involved to make any kind of impact. Our family is and has been very involved in various community groups over the years we’ve been here. And the politics within community organizations will always be an issue, wherever you live. But it certainly makes life a touch more interesting when a member of your committee is married to the local mayor. And half your committee is actively involved in protesting against various “decisions” the local council has made.

See, our council seems to know exactly what to do to ensure maximum reaction from the community. An old car park in the middle of town? We’ll just build a resort on it, provide less parking for locals and visitors – oh and a few hundred pokies next to a family lagoon. What reaction did they think they were going to get?

Fortunately, a community so used to being actively involved in organising events was quite able to turn in a petition with 1,700 signatures from locals (remembering a town of 5,000), 3,000 objections to the development application and a protest march the likes of which our town has never seen (and our town has seen a few!!!). The developer formally withdrew the application this year (finally!).

Or my favourite – the airport that didn’t make a profit in 2001 (did any regional airport?), so we’ll sell it to someone who wants to close it down so we all have to travel another 30 minutes (total time = 1 hour) to the nearest airport. The actions against the foreshore development were repeated, and the issue ended up in the Supreme Court, which finally found there was no contract for sale and that our airport could stay where it was. Amazingly the airport is now turning a massive profit, and redevelopment works are underway a mere 6 months after this finding.

When I stop and think about these political events in our town, and compare them to our previous home, I can’t help but notice the striking differences. Petitions had similar numbers of signatures, despite the massive difference in population. Protests were all but unheard of. And if they did happen, they were something like restoring the local post office or banning skateboards on footpaths. Things that while important, don’t necessarily impact the entire community in quite the same way.

This hit home to me on Friday night as we made our annual pilgrimage to the lagoon for “Cracker Night” – the start of the October/November festival of choice – to realise that had the development gone ahead on the car park site, there would be nowhere to launch the fireworks from. I compared it to the Brisbane “River Fire” where 500,000 people line the banks of the Brisbane River, crowded, on top of each other, to watch fireworks and the crowd favourite – F1-11’s. We lay on the grass next to our town’s “swimming hole”, with kids playing in the water til late, and chatted with our neighbours who were sitting not far from us. And we watched a somewhat less impressive display of firepower.

Less impressive it might have been, but it wouldn’t have happened at all if not for the hard work of a community not afraid to take on their alleged representatives, and stand up and fight for their community.

With our impending move South to the Big City, these types of reflections are getting more and more common. I wonder if the things I’ve learned living here will stay with me, or if they’ll get lost among the sheer number of people.

Kin - I have no idea how I would cope moving back to the Big City now. A busy night at the local Chinese Restaurant is too noisy for me. I’ve become used to the peace and quiet of our new home very quickly. It happened so fast I can’t even remember what life in the city used to be like. I don’t know if I could handle it again. You’re a braver girl than I am, that’s for sure!

I have begun to see some of these small town politics in action myself since moving to a town of less than 5,000 and it is highly interesting to watch.

You can read more from Kin at her blog - Home Of Slightly Cracked Dreams. Kin is also one of those who listened to me about blog themes and installed one of the gorgeous themes from Pannasmontata Templates. It looks great Kin, Well Done!

And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

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Today I have a fascinating guest post from Stephen Cronin - a fellow Aussie who is most decidedly out of the country.

I’m supposed to write about life in my country, so the first question is ‘what’s my country’? The answer is most definitely Australia, but I’ve spent most of the last 10 years living overseas. The last two years have been spent in China, but now it appears that in six months time, I’ll be taking my family home.

So instead of writing about life in my country, I’m going to look at what I’m looking forward to about life in Australia and what I’ll miss about life in China.

Life In Australia - Looking Forward

There are many things I’m looking forward to about living in Australia again. I can’t list them all, but here are some of the first to spring to mind.

The Outdoors Lifestyle

BBQs. Playing with my family at the park. Picnics. Sitting on the back deck watching the sun set. Fish and chips by the beach. Bush walking. Wide open spaces. The endless blue sky…

In Australia, we use the outdoors for recreation. In China, its used for living. Daily life happens wherever there is room. The outdoors isn’t approached in the same way. Recreation here centers around food and spending time with other people. That’s not a bad thing, but I miss the Australian approach.

They have the most wonderful parks in China, but they are cultivated to the nth degree and lack the natural feel of Australian parks. Likewise, they have some absolutely stunning scenery, but the nature itself often comes second to making it an event for visitors. It seems that having been there is more important than having seen it (people are more worried about getting the photograph in front of the sign, than actually stopping and taking it all in).

The wonderful environment we are so lucky to have in Australia is one of the things I miss most. Getting back to nature and enjoying the outdoors lifestyle is at the top of my list of things I’m looking forward to.

Driving

I love to drive! I’ve been driving for almost 20 years and it seems like the car becomes an extension of you. Take it away and it feels like something is missing.

Here in China, I don’t have a car. There’s no need for one. I can walk to work in fifteen minutes, to the shops in ten minutes. If I need to go into the city, which is 30 minutes away, I can take a bus (they run every 3 or 4 minutes and only cost 35 cents) or a taxi ($3.50). Most weeks I’ll spend less than $5 on transport. Compare that to your petrol bill!

But although its great for my wallet, I really miss driving.

So when I get back to Australia, I’m going to drive, drive, drive. I’ll drive to the shops, I’ll drive into town, I’ll drive around the block! Not good for the environment, I know, but hey, I just saved the planet from 2 years worth of car pollution!

Hot Christmas

I’ve been enjoying cold Christmas’s for quite a while now. While that’s a great thing, especially when there’s snow (just like in the movies!), I do miss the hot Australian Christmas.

Cold ham (off the bone), salad, ice-cold beer, cricket in the park, watermelon. I could keep going. These are what I grew up with at Christmas time and as great as a White Christmas is, there’s always something missing.

Open Internet

Obviously, being a blogger and web developer, access to the Internet is very important to me. So the fact that many popular sites are blocked in China is very frustrating for me. Sites blocked include Wikipedia, BBC News, Flickr, Technorati, wordpress.com, blogspot.com.

Until Snoskred recently switched to a hosted WordPress site, I couldn’t even access A Life In The Country!

There are ways around this of course. I can get to pretty much any site I like, by using TOR or a web-based proxy server, but it’s inconvenient and slow.

So being able to turn the computer on and access any site I like will be one of the great pleasures of being back in Australia.

A Return To My Career

I’ve been teaching ICT here in China, but teaching’s not my profession. Whilst teaching can be rewarding and I’ve really enjoyed it, I’m ready for a change. A return to my career beckons.

I’ve spent 13 years in the software industry, most of it in management roles and I miss it. I miss the office environment, working on projects, the pressure of business, the feeling of being involved in something. I even miss meetings!

Of course, I may say something a little different if you ask me in a years time, but for now, I am really keen to get back into it.

So if you know of any great jobs in Brisbane from about May next year, let me know!

Life In China - What I’ll Miss

Living in China has been a great experience for me. In many ways, I don’t want to leave. These are some of the reasons why.

The Dining Experience

Food is very important to the Chinese. It has to be fresh and it has to taste great. If you’ve never tried real Chinese food, I can assure you it is far superior to the food you get in Chinese restaurants in the west. In fact, there are very few dishes here that I recognise from Chinese restaurants in Australia.

For those not familiar with Chinese dining, each person does not have an individual meal. Instead, many dishes are placed in the centre of the table and you help yourself to a little of everything. This solves my problem of wishing I’d ordered what the person next to me had!

Compared to Australia, eating out here is very cheap. Chicken and oyster mushroom fried rice (enough to fill me up) is $1. I’d be hard pressed to cook at home for less than that. For two people eating out in style, it normally costs less than $10.

While there are some dishes I won’t miss (chicken’s feet!) and while I’m looking forward to some of the options I’ll have in Australia, on the whole, I’m losing out.

Vibrancy

The minute I step outside my door here in China, there is something going on. There are people everywhere, whether they are working, shopping or just taking a stroll. There is always something interesting (often unusual!) to see.

Although Australia is noted for it’s outdoors lifestyle, this only applies to our recreation time. The average Australian (myself included) spends most of their time indoors.

I was struck by the difference the last time I was back in Australia. It was middle of the day, in Australian suburbia. I stepped outside and I couldn’t see any one. They were all at work, at the shops or inside their houses. I stood there for 5 minutes. Nothing moved. It was static, lifeless … dare I say, boring!

I don’t know how immigrants survive in the suburbs. I’m not looking forward to it and I grew up with it. Life won’t seem as rich.

Freedom

Yes, you read that right! I’m going to miss the freedom of China. There are problems (see Internet section above for example), but in some areas the Chinese are freer than we are in the west.

This is especially noticeable in the workplace where, in the west, we are bogged down by a multitude of regulations. Health and Safety, Equal Opportunity, Bullying, Sexual Harrasment. All of these are good things, but they are often taken too far. This can make the workplace over-complicated and less enjoyable. At worst, it increases stress and even impacts on people’s quality of life.

Another issue relates to children: These days we tend to overprotect them, which I think limits their growth. Children have to be given some freedom to try things, take risks, make mistakes, learn from them, etc. Many of the things I got up to when I was a kid just wouldn’t be allowed these days, because parents are protecting their children, but these things helped me become more capable and confident.

Now, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be cautious, but I think we are too cautious and it’s gotten to the stage where it has a negative impact on our lifesytle. I also believe we are over-regulated (whatever happened to personal responsibility by the way?).

In China, it’s the opposite. They aren’t cautious enough! There isn’t enough protection in place for employees. It’s probably like Australia was 40 or 50 years ago. But people are generally more relaxed and less worried than we are. Living here has been a breath of fresh air.

I believe there should be a sensible middle line somewhere between the two. In Australia, fear plays too important a role in our lives. I’m not looking forward to that aspect of life in Australia.

Chinglish

China is full of signs (and t-shirts) with English writing. Unfortunately (or fortunately), there are often errors with the English. These are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face and often leave you laughing.

I can never remember the funniest examples, so I’ll point you engrish.com or flickr’s chinglish pool if you have some time to spare and want a good laugh. The only example I can remember is “Please respect the fragrant meadow” (Keep off the grass), but there are many which are much funnier.

A side note: I’ll never forget when one of my students - quiet, studious, conservative - started wearing a t-shirt with chinglish proclaiming that she was a hot porn star (or words to that effect). She would have been horrified if she knew what it meant.

Sadly, chinglish being slowly eradicated here, especially with the Olympics coming, but you still come across the occasional unexpected surprise that will brighten your day.

Education Environment

While I much prefer the style of education in Australia (in China they still learn by rote), I have concerns about the environment. By that I mean drugs, violence, sex, etc. It seems each week brings a news story which makes me think twice about putting my children in that environment.

Here in China, the bad students in my classroom are the ones who don’t do any work or fall asleep in class. If you call them on it, they apologise and are embarrassed!

The bad students in Australia? Well I finished to school almost 20 years ago and we were a lot worse than that then. What’s it’s like now, I have no real idea, but if the stories in the media are indicative, it’s a lot worse.

Like any father, I’m worried about what my children will face at school. Part of me thinks I’d rather raise my family in China, where youngsters still have respect for their elders.

For all the negative things about China that you’ll read in the western media, there are things that the Chinese do better than us. The sense of family and respect instilled in youngsters is one of them.

The Final Word

There are many other things I’ll miss about China and many things I’ll enjoying back in Australia - these are just some of the main ones. It’s going to be a big change for our family and we’re looking forward to it, but there will be some sadness too. The world is a great place and it’s good to experience as much of it as we can.

Stephen has worked in the software industry in Australia, UK and USA for 13 years. He is currently living in China with his family, where his ‘day job’ is teaching ICT and his nights are spent blogging and developing websites. You can read more from Stephen at his blog - More Than Scratch The Surface

This post was so interesting to me. I’ve never lived out of Australia for a long period of time - the longest I’ve been out of the country has been 6 week trips. There are so many amazing IT jobs in Australia. Looking on seek.com.au IT is always the category with the highest amount of advertised jobs - it currently has about 10,000 more jobs available than any other category - the next highest category is accountants. It seems we do not have enough qualified people in Australia to fill both these job categories - so there will surely be something great out there when you return, Stephen. 

Get Out Of Your Niche has quickly become one of my favourite features here on my blog. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do! And remember, you can get out of your niche too - all bloggers are welcome. Just contact me.

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Out Of Her Niche today is fellow Australian blogger Tiffany from Three Ring Circus

I usually write about my children. Today, I’m ’stepping out of my niche’ for Snoskred, to talk about where I live…

What can I tell you about where I live?

It’s different.

From anything I have known before.

I was born and grew up in a suburb of Sydney. It was a community where I often felt that our family did not belong. It was a fairly large suburb, with three and then eventually, four schools. I went to the nearest public school, which I hated. I was the resident ‘fat girl’ who was the constant target of teasing and abuse. I felt… friendless and often alone. I guess I was a bit of a loner because I wanted to avoid being hurt. Not alot changed through high school, although I did find a nice group of girls to sit with eventually.

When I married David we moved around a fair bit. We initially stayed in the Sydney area but never in one place long enough to get to know many people. We eventually built our first home on the Central Coast in NSW. The suburb was huge. We settled in and started to find our way in a new area but we were not really part of the crowd before we chose to shift areas again.

The move to The Hunter Valley was a reluctant one but at the time, we had three girls of our own and had taken on my sister’s two boys. In a matter of weeks we had outgrown our four bedroom house. It became clear that our temporary custody of the boys was anything but temporary, so we moved to a six bedroom house, on a large block of land, in a tiny, little, country town. At the time I was newly pregnant with our forth baby. My friend declared us mad and in the first few weeks, I certainly felt that way. I knew nobody, there was very little to do. Our main street consisted of a corner store, the pub and further down the road… another pub. Town was fifteen minutes away and that was not much better. For kicks, you could go to Coles and when you really wanted some excitement, there was Woolworths!

Ok, it wasn’t as bad as that but coming from a place that had a Westfield Shopping ‘experience’ within walking distance from home it seemed as though I had landed myself in the world’s biggest hole in the ground. David was still working in Sydney so the days that the kids were at school and I wasn’t working, seemed long to say the least.

When we arrived in the boonies the first thing we had to do was enrol up at the school. The administrative staff had other ideas, however, as they would not even consider placing the children in classes until we could show official proof that we had a residence in the town. As we walked out of the school grounds, one of the ‘gate mums’ introduced herself but before we could reciprocate, she was sprouting our introduction for us. She knew that we had moved into the old Miller house and that we had come from the coast. She knew that the girls were into dancing and that the eldest boy liked soccer. With that she produced the name and number of the local soccer team’s president and ordered us to contact him!

We were absolutely floored that someone we had never clapped eyes on before could know so much about us already! We soon found that most people knew of our coming weeks before we actually arrived. In fact most people knew about what was going on in our lives long before we did!

On this day, as we moved on from our first (bizarre) experience with the people of the town, the same mother yelled over her shoulder not to worry, we would get used to it and it would only take ten years before we would be considered local! Ten years! Our track record for staying in one place indicated that we would never be considered local!

We were pretty reclusive. That was (is) our way. The kids made friends though and I started to get to know some of the ‘gate mothers’ by name and would wave if we passed in the street. As my pregnancy progressed I made a couple of friends and we would go up to school assembly together.

Our life in our home though seemed completely separate to the life of the town. We did not have a lot in common with the people. We did not knock off work early on Friday and go down to the local pub for dinner and a beerfest with sixty of our neighbours. Our idea of fun was a couple of DVDs, a nice dinner with the kids, an outing to the movies or something equally…sensible. These country folk enjoyed drinking themselves into oblivion before jumping on the back of a bull and calling the bucking, jostling, often bloody mess between drunken man and angry beast a rodeo.

Perhaps if we had taken part we would have been welcomed into the fold and considered one of their own.

The truth is, I hated it. I felt isolated, bored and alone. We didn’t fit in at all.

I know we didn’t join in but in my mind that was to avoid the inevitable pain I would feel when the locals shunned us (me) because we were different .

In the April of 2004, approximately eight months after we moved into the tiny country town, our son William was born and died five days later. Our whole world was turned upside down. After a week away, coming back to our home seemed very surreal. Arriving in the sleepy town, it seemed as though nothing had changed, except us. William’s funeral was still a week away as it was Easter and his body had to be transferred from Westmead Children’s hospital to the local funeral home.

The afternoon that we arrived we received a phone call from the funeral director. He just wanted to let us know that William had ‘come home’ and was safe with them now. We were also invited to go any time we wanted, over the following days, if we wanted to see him again. For me it was as though this man on the phone was the first person to treat my baby as a human being. When he spoke, his voice was respectful. Something that we had not encountered in Sydney.

The days passed and the funeral loomed closer. People came and went, family mostly. I don’t remember much of that time. What I do recall though and what stays with me now is his angel day. We decided that we would bury our son in the local cemetary and that the service would be in the small church down the road. As we arrived I remember seeing cars for as far as my eyes could see. In my grief I did not realise that those cars were all parked for us. All of our friends and family were there but also much of the town had stepped out to show their respect for a little boy they would never know and for the people who were only half a year into their initiation to become locals.

I walked into the church and I saw the gate mums to my right. I saw the teachers of my children and the principal representing the school. Out the front, near William’s tiny coffin, were hand crafted butterflies, cut and coloured in by every single one of the children at the school. Messages of love and sadness reached out to me through the innocent handwritten condolences of the students, for our family. I was truly touched. For the first time in over a week, I felt something. It was a sense of community.

There were tears and hugs and casseroles, letters, plants, heartfelt gifts and offers for the children to have time away from the grieving household.

That day, the way I felt about ‘the boonies’ changed. I accepted what it was… a tiny outback town… with a huge heart.

There was not much to look at, not much to do but the people made it rich and textured. They pulled together and supported each other…and us.

Like I said, the place I live in is different from anything I have ever known. That’s because it’s a place that I feel that we belong, even though we are different.

We are part of the community.

Things have pretty much gone back to normal now. We still keep to ourselves and four years into our residency of the old Miller house we are still considered newcomers but we are accepted and comfortable.

My daughter commented today that we have stayed here longer than we have in any other place.
I said; It must be time to move.
She said, No, it must mean that it’s home.

This post from Tiffany made me homesick for my “heart home” - which at this stage I still consider to be Tamworth. I think where we live now has a chance of replacing it in my heart but it does take time for that to happen. People reaching out to you can speed up the process, too.

Sometimes life takes us on a journey we were not expecting - a journey we would not have chosen ourselves yet a journey we needed to go on without our knowing it. I’m glad your family has found home, Tiff.

You can read more from Tiffany at her blog - Three Ring Circus and remember, you can get out of your niche too!

Popularity: 66% [?]

Brown Baron is out of his niche here today with this post -

Bloggers who decide to become serious with their writing and promoting their blog often experience stress usually found in an office environment. Whether it be practicing good SEO, dealing with blogger’s block, or simply feeling pressured by bigger blogs, bloggers often forget that the secret to having the proper attitude towards blogging can be found by observing children.

Start the day with a smile
Have you ever noticed how children have the incredible ability to wake up in a good mood most days? That’s how you should do it. Start each day with a positive attitude. If you wake up and remember you still have no idea on what the next post will be, don’t worry about it. Just smile. Try and start your day with a positive outlook and you’ll notice how easy it is to enter your blogging routine. As the day wears on, try to maintain your good mood and you’ll be surprised at how productive you can be.

Keep asking questions
Children never seem to run out of questions. No matter how much they learn, they keep asking more questions. If you’re satisfied with the direction your blog is taking, don’t be complacent. Keep asking yourself what else you can do to improve your visitors’ experience.

If you still haven’t grasped the fundamentals of running and promoting a blog, make a list of the things you don’t understand and work on them one at a time.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help
Children have the tenacity to keep working on a problem until they’re sure that they can’t do it on their own. They will then ask grownups for assistance. Any time you feel like you’re way over your head with customizing your blog, installing plugins, upgrading, or need advice on promoting your blog, don’t be afraid to ask your readers or other bloggers for suggestions.

Your readers come to your blog because they like your writing. They don’t expect you to be a master at the technical aspects of blogging.

There are a lot of bloggers that would be more than willing to help you out. Don’t be shy, just ask.

Make lots of friends
Have you ever noticed how children are so adept at making new friends or at getting along with other kids? Make sure that you form a bond with your readers and other bloggers. Knowing that you have a connection with your readers and other bloggers gives you motivation to keep writing even during the times you don’t feel like it.

Forging friendships with other bloggers will give you the feeling that you’re not alone in the world of blogging. You’ll learn new things, share tips, and help develop the growing community of bloggers all over the world.

Every day is an adventure
It’s amazing how children are always bright-eyed at even the most mundane tasks. It’s because they treat everything and every day as an adventure. Don’t look at your blogging as a routine or chore that you need to finish. Think of every post, comment, blog tweak, as a new game that you just discovered.

There is magic in writing and connecting with your readers. Your readers are your treasure. Some you will find, and others will simply find you. No matter what happens during the day, remember it’s all a big adventure.

If you find that you still need help with regard to having the best attitude towards blogging, take a look at the children. They’re smarter than you think.

Brown Baron blogs over at Brown Thoughts. I can’t remember how I first found his blog but I am thrilled that I did.The Baron is almost as mysterious as me but he does let slip that he is the father of 3 kids and the adoring husband of one wife.

This post is extremely apt today as I met my first fellow blogger, more about that tomorrow. I wish I could meet all my blogging friends in person and I hope to do more meeting bloggers in Australia, at least.

The community of bloggers is filled with wonderful people. Step out of your comfort zone and make a new blog friend today.

Popularity: 15% [?]

Note from Snoskred - This week Thomas - Technical Blogger is getting out of his niche, and reading this I am so glad he agreed to do it. I love this post.

I was in my mid thirties before I had a cat.

In 1999 or so I took a contracting job at Microsoft, and my girlfriend at the time and I moved to this cool log cabin in Redmond, WA. My girlfriend had this ornery black cat that I didn’t really like, but for the most part he left me alone, and I left him alone. A couple of days after we moved in, there was this little kitty out on the deck mewing very loudly. It was there for a couple of days mewing. Did I mention this cat was really loud? Finally I told the girlfriend to do something to shut that cat up. She fed it some food that it gobbled right down and became quiet and started purring.

This cat had no desire to come into the house. Whatever room we were in, it would hang out in the corresponding window, so it could see us, but did not want to come in. In October the weather was starting to get rainy and nasty, so we built a little shelter with warm bedding for the kitty in the planter box outside the big window. We feed her and all seemed to be well.

In November it started to snow, and we decided that we needed to bring the little cat indoors. She adjusted to the indoors really well. She was neurotic and a pain in the butt, she hid under furniture 90% of the time. All I could think is how much cats sucked.

We moved, and I said that since we had taken responsibility for the little kitty that we had to take her with us. She did really well in the new place. She was neurotic and a pain in the butt, but she did change, now she hid under furniture 95% of the time. All I could think is how much cats sucked. At this point the girlfriend became an ex-girlfriend. I told her that she had to take both cats, but she would only take hers initially as she was moving back to the Bay Area and left me with that damned little cat.

Two days after the ex-girlfriend and her cat had gone, I started seeing the little kitty out and about. I used to say she was a little bit of a cat, and the name stuck. Little Bit. It just being the cat and I, Little mellowed out within a week.

One day I was working in my office at home, and I heard Little meowing from another part of the house so I told her where I was. I then heard meowing closer. This happened a couple of times, and then I heard a meow outside my office. I looked at her and told her she could come in, and she did. She settled down by me and seemed to be happy. She seemed to like to play this game, as she played it frequently. I played along because it made me laugh.

Moving to the Bay Area

I got contract work in the Bay Area, so we moved. Initially We stayed in corporate housing and I wasn’t supposed to have a cat. I told the Little to stay out of sight, and she seemed to understand. At this point you might say - Thomas you are deluding yourself if you think your cat had the power of speech, I don’t think she had the power of speech, but she seemed very intuitive and appeared to understand what I told her. She would sometimes wait in the window for me to come home, and when she saw I noticed her, I would waggle my finger at her and she would jump down and hide. She was a great cat. Having just moved from Seattle to the Bay Area, I had few friends and although I was happy the girlfriend was gone, I was depressed about my general state of relationships.

Little started sleeping on my chest. I would sometimes wake with her cheek on mine. If I came home late, she would wait by the door, and would let me have it, with a barrage of meows. If I came home after being in a bar, I would have to shower before I got into bed or she would snore and wheeze all night keeping me up and expressing her displeasure. I took care of her and she took care of me.

We moved out of corporate housing and got a loft in East Side Oakland. It was the Little and I, and we had a great time. If I sat down for more than 5 minutes she was in my lap. When it was time for bed, she would get up, go to the bedroom and meow on the bed waiting. When I got in bed, she would crawl on my chest and fall asleep. She was trusting, sweet, and gave love unconditionally. She watched over me, and when things got tough, was always there for me.

Little was an excellent barometer at reading people. I never mentioned to dates that I had a cat. Some women would come in, and the Little was not to be seen, for others she would come out and say hi. It may sound weird, but I always listened to the Little. Interestingly enough, when the ex did show up from time to time the Little was never to be found. Considering Little always met me at the door when I came home, I found it interesting that she would disappear if I brought someone else home.

The Little had an electronic litter box. One afternoon, the box was going off, every 15 minutes for a couple of hours. I thought it was broken. When I investigated, I realized Little was playing with her litter box. She would go in and let out about a marble’s worth of urine and then jump out. She would walk around and when the box would start she would run over and watch it. A couple minutes after it stopped, she would jump in to start the process again. She would take frequent trips to her water dish to ensure she was probably hydrated and had enough ammunitions to continue the game. This was a game she would play periodically. Goofy little cat.

I raised my voice to the Little once. She was playing with the sheer curtains in my rented loft. I just looked at Little and said No sharply. She disappeared and I did not see her for the rest of the evening. I looked for her and she was not to be found. At bedtime, I got in bed and called, and there she was. I have no idea where she went, but I never had to raise my voice to her again.

I traveled periodically for my job and my buddy Tim would stay at my place to hang out with the Little. Little loved Tim, and Tim loved the Little. In early 2000, I took a work oriented trip to Cairo, Egypt for a little over two weeks. Tim was unable to stay at my place the whole time but stayed there off and on to ensure the Little was doing ok.

When I got back, Little and I fell back into our normal routine. Not long after that I met my wife Shannon in Portland, OR. When the Little met Shannon in August, it was love at first sight.

In October of that year, the Little started to get sick. I noticed her walking around wheezing. When I took her to the vet, they removed almost two pints of fluid from her body cavity. Apparently her body cavity was filling up with fluid, squeezing her lungs and she was having difficulty breathing. I had her tested, but we could not figure out what was wrong, she was not getting better, and she wouldn’t eat.

When Shannon came to visit, the Little crawled on Shannon’s lap, and gave her a long hard look. I could see the Little sizing Shannon up. The Little put her paw out, and Shannon took it in her hand. The hung out like that for a couple of minutes, and then Little curled up in Shannon’s lap and went to sleep.

That next week, I could tell the Little was getting worse. One evening I had to take her to the emergency vet to get her drained again. A few nights later, Little crawled off a couple of times to find a secluded spot. I told her I found this unacceptable, as her friend I would help her and wouldn’t let her die alone. That was a really long night, hanging out with my sick friend. I took her to the vet first thing that morning and was told she was rapidly getting worse. The vet said she was just going to keep filling up with fluid and there was nothing they could do. Apparently if she hadn’t received good nutrition when she was younger she might not have formed properly internally. Considering that we found her outside, this seemed reasonable. Under these conditions it is possible for stress to initiate the onset of these types of problems.

The vet suggested the best course of action was to put her to sleep. They explained the procedure and how it would work. I shouldn’t be alarmed if the cat should evacuate its bowels after it had passed. All I could think is that Little is way too dainty and too much of a princess to let something like that occur.

I called Shannon for support, this was one of the hardest decision I ever had to make. I knew Little was in pain, but I didn’t want to give up too early. What if the tests taken the week before found something, but results weren’t expected for another couple of days. I tried to be realistic about the current quality of her life.

I talked to the Little about it, I knew she was in pain and she was wheezing again. She sat in my lap for a while, and then got in her carrier for a minute. I put her on the table and petted her while she was put to sleep. The vet said something about being amazed that Little did not make a mess when she passed, but knowing her that did not surprise me.

The next couple of weeks were kind of a blur. But here are some things I realized later.

- A couple of days later, I noticed that her carrier smelled. I looked in and found she had used her carrier as a litter box. I have heard that a cat will not mess in a carrier that they expect to get back in, I think she understood what was going to happen and wasn’t going to go out leaving a mess.
- When I thought about it, I realized that Little had passed the baton on to Shannon for my care and well being. She wasn’t going to leave without knowing I was taking care of, Little was like that.
- The Little and I only had a couple of years together, and I hope she was happy enough to balance out such a short life and time we had together.
- To this day I think my being gone for the couple of weeks while I was in Egypt stressed Little out, and initiated these problems. I am not sure that there was anything I could have done differently to create a different outcome, but I do blame myself . . .

It would be a couple of years before I could get another cat. It has been almost seven years, and honestyly I tears roll down my checks as I write this, although in my defense my allergies have been acting up as my eyes have been kind of watery.

Enter Mr Pants

As I said, it was a couple of years before I could bring myself to get another cat. Shannon and I started visiting the humane society. I figured it would honor the memory of Little to give another cat a break. At the humane society I told them I wanted to see the cat that had been their the longest. We were shown some cat named Diego. When we got to the cage, the cat charged the bars of his cage and starts meowing loudly.

A sophisticated cat, said the tag, wow he smells and looks horrible said Shannon, I want to see him, says I.

We went into the visiting room with Diego. He was flea bitten, he smelled, he was mangy and weighed 10 lbs. His head was the biggest part of his body. I talked to Shannon and we decided to think it over. Diego was taken back to his cage. When we went back to look at him in his cage he hissed at us. He had thought we had a deal, and it appears we had reneged.

We went back two days later to get Diego. When we go to his cage, he is laying listlessly on the floor, he picks his head up and blows a big snot bubble out his nose. Dude, that is no way to get adopted I tell him, you need to try and put your best foot forward.

Shannon calls a tech over.

Shannon - Excuse me . .

Tech - Can I help you

Shannon - Is this cat going to die, it looks sick. We like him, but we aren’t going to adopt him if he is just going die.

Tech - Uh, ma’am we can’t guarantee the pet will live, but . . .

Shannon - I’m serious, we don’t want this cat if it is going to die.

Tech - Well we can’t guarantee, he just has URI which is common for cats in a situation like this. If anything does happen to the cat, we can get you a new . . .

Shannon - I’m serious, we don’t want this cat if it is going to die. My husband is a big guy, but he is sensitive. He already lost one cat, and I am not going through that again any time soon, this cat better not die.

Me - Hey, I’m not that sensitive.

Shannon