My lessons started then and there. “First” Said Matheo for he was the ski instructor. “We need suitable gear for you “. “And then a…” And so he went on for a few minutes till the list of items was swimming in my head like a ripped up town in a hurricane. We couldn’t start till the next day as we had to get all the items Matheo had listed before my ski lesson started at 9:00. I slid down the slope most of the day although with increasing confidence I rapidly improved. A few days later I was zooming down the hill as if I had done skiing since I was born. From there I went to increasingly harder slopes and even competed in a few competitions.

Sadly we weren’t in Austria forever so the day came when we had to go back to Australia. I had a last short ski lesson with Matheo and then we had to go. At the airport I was pleading to stay at least a little longer but we couldn’t, not without funds to pay the expenses to stay longer. At the front part of the airport an official came up to me and told me about my fabulous skiing and miraculously offered to fund me if I went in some more competitions. I happily told my mum and she after seemingly much consideration agreed. I immediately called my teacher and told him what had happened. We continued training strait away and got ready for my next competition. Six months later I had already earned a position to qualify for the winter Para Olympics in Vancouver. I was so delighted I nearly did a summersault in mid training.
Later I was getting ready for the qualification. It seemed like the most exciting time in my life. The next day I was already out of bed at 5:00 as the qualification would start at 7:30. At 7:30 I was lined up in a weird formation to do my tricks contest. The start was easy just a slope to gain speed but the difficulty increased as I worked my way through the contests. In the last contest which was 500m sprint I could barely move a muscle. But I had to do the contest otherwise I had done all my training for nothing. So I braved the contest at least the start.
BBEP! That was the start I lurched forward instantly in front of everyone else. The race went pretty well except in the middle where a bulky boy barged past me with his arms outstretched easily knocking me over. “Cheat!” I screamed after him. I quickly got up and raced after the group, but they were already a few metres in front of me. I couldn’t catch up could I? I had to. So I raced up after them trying my best to catch up to the guy who had pushed me. There finally, I was 7th place, 6th, 5th, 4th, 3rd, 2nd there was the finish line could I make it? There was the person who had pushed me down. He was first. He went over the finish line just behind me. No I didn’t make it just because he pushed me. I kept my anger in cheque. For the time being, at least. I was so tired that I flopped into bed with all my clothes on.

I know, that this has nothing to do with organising, but I am so proud of my 12 year old that I had to publish this here: It is rather long for a blog post, so it will come in three installments!

“Come on Thomas we’ll miss the plane! “ “Coming mum. “Slowly I got out of bed trying not to step on my ruined leg. “And don’t tell me you’re slow because of your leg!” At breakfast we had to eat quickly so we would get the last bits packed before flying to Austria. My twin brother helped me pack and get a new wrapping on my leg stump. I had been in a training circus for a few months. One of the practices went dreadfully as I tried to do a triple back flip with a twist. I landed on the edge of the gigantic trampoline that was normally only used when the actors were performing on stage. Only my leg had hit the trampoline and the springs had cut deeply into my paralyzed body. I woke up in hospital and came out a few months later.”We’re going!” “Okay!” I just need my IPod. After the accident I only needed to put on one shoe so I was always first to get in the car.

I have treated the accident like a part of me. It was hard to get used to being on crutches or in a wheelchair. But I had to get used to it. Half an hour later we were at the airport and another half hour later we were taking off. “Well that went faster than expected!” I said to my twin brother Bill. But he was already trying out the flight screens. About 24 hours later we were in Austria. It was colder than anything I had expected. My mum said we would go skiing for most of the holiday. I thought that was about the worst idea ever. When we got to our hut everyone wanted to go skiing strait away. Obviously mum didn’t allow it. But she said we would go tomorrow.

The next morning we borrowed some ski equipment but I didn’t get any. Then we went to a slightly steep hill where lots of 8 year olds were practicing skiing and snowboarding. There were lots of teachers there telling the young skiers what to do. A few hours later I was still there doing nothing. Later that day my brother offered his skis to me. But I said that I couldn’t ski but he pressed on. So I tried, my first try was a little wobbly but I quickly learnt how to balance enough to stay on the ski. But when we got home I was still covered in bruises.

The next day just after I started skiing an instructor came and started talking to me in Austrian. I made a signal to him that I couldn’t understand him. So he started talking in English but with a strong accent. He said “You are a good disabled skier, I could teach you how to ski” That is all I understood. The rest was gibberish to me. I asked my mum and she immediately asked how much it would cost for me to learn disabled skiing. Typical mum, always asking for a price.  After some negotiating my mum and the ski instructor came up with a reasonable price.

“The sheer amount of clothing in my cupboards used to confuse me and I thought I had nothing to wear!  Now that I have put the summer clothes away I have much less in the cupboard but strangely, no urge to buy a lot of clothes. I can see what I’ve got and where the gaps in my wardrobe are and plan accordingly. It’s like magic.
I loved getting your worksheets  and I am pretty chuffed at the progress

I have been putting labels on shelves in the kitchen so I can see instantly where things are (even though I think I “know” where they are) and it has been so helpful when making a shopping list. It is saving me money already. So proud of myself for doing all this.

I went to Bunning’s and got the new shelf  today and have been re organising the linen etc closet. What has amazed me is how much better I am at planning and making the changes we worked out together. I make lists and only get what I need, and if they don’t have what I need I don’t buy anything! Particularly surprised  at how little I really  need to buy to get all this done.
I have a little list of items to get tomorrow, with measurements. Can’t wait to get this place really humming.  Susanne, I can’t thank you enough. It has actually been FUN! I reorganised my desk drawer tonight and enjoyed it! ”

Sally-Anne, Drummoyne

… or better hubby did.

It did just slip out of its tray. I just didn’t look closely enough.
Time now to follow up an all those prospective customers.

… which is a major disaster. And for me as a Professional Organiser very, very unprofessional indeed. And it’s not any old notebook with a couple of scribbles and notes, no: it’s the one and only place I keep phone notes when prospective customers ring. I don’t put details into the computer before they become “real” customers, meaning before they book an appointment with me. And it’s worked so far, because this notebook is always handy. I don’t have to start the computer when someone rings with an enquiry in the middle of cooking dinner.

Until yesterday when I realized that it’s gone. And I am not even 100% sure when and where I used it last. I always do “the right thing” because I know this little notebook is potentially worth a lot of money –I always put it back where it belongs, never take it out of the house…

So I didn’t really know where to look for it, because there is just one spot it lives and it always goes back there once I am finished. So I panicked and started what I can do best – I organised the pile it normally lives on, than started on nearby areas, maybe it slipped. Looked under the shelf and cleaned and organised there. Maybe my husband found it and put it where he likes to quickly stash thing out of sight – so the cookbooks got an onceover. Short of running out of ideas I thought maybe the kids… so I started on their bookshelves.

I am feeling I need to call an Organised to help me go through my whole house to find this bl…y notebook. I can definitely feel the panic I can hear in a lot of my enquiring customers.

I’ll continue my journey, but in the mean time – all you prospective customer out there: don’t wait for me to give you a follow up call – your Organiser has lost a bright green, A5 size notebook.

Over the last week I have been following Jamie Oliver on twitter and his mission to educate people so they can feed their kids sustainable food. One commentator on a blog wrote at length about Jamie’s astonishment when he found out, that there are a lot of kids in America growing up not using knives and forks to eat. For them food is always finger food.
I found this quiet shocking too and I don’t think that we here in Australia are much different.
I think it’s a parent’s duty to give their kids basic manners and social skills – and I know it is hard, I am still struggling with two of my kids using the knife as an aid to put things onto their fork (the knife as a cutting device is much more appreciated by the boys.)
I think we have to distinguish between eating as the task of putting food in one’s mouth so you don’t starve and eating as in family dinners, sharing stories and food. I am talking about the later, because I honestly believe, that’s where eating disorders start. Food needs to be appreciated – kids have to develop a relationship with food, they have to learn about food, and, to come back to where I began, to learn the socially accepted way to eat it.
But it’s not just lack of cooking skills, time and ability to use a knife and fork. I am coming across a lot of families that basically don’t have a dinner table they can use.
And that’s not because they don’t have one, but because it’s so full of clutter that nobody eats at it.
So mums feed the kids in front of the TV, that’s easy and very non confrontational. And when dad comes home, the parents do the same, balancing their plate on their knees.
I would say, no wonder kids grow up with some sort of eating disorder, either too much or too little, because who would go to the effort of cooking nice food if nobody really gets what’s eaten , distracted by watching TV.
So, I am going to  tweet to Jamie Oliver to show him this other obstacle in the way to fulfill his mission of family dinners.