Fun and Exercise

The big news in my life this past week arises from the purchase of a Wii Fit and the necessary accompaniment, the Wii Console.

Between this and the new television I have almost thoroughly plundered my tax refund and so sealed the fate on any overseas travel plans that I had for a couple of months time. The truth is, I was finding the prospect of coming back to a completely empty bank account and the end of semester drop in income all a bit stressful anyway. This way I'll be able to stay at home in a more comfortably feathered nest while I take advantage of the extra time at my disposal and toil away at my thesis.

While I've been wishing for a new TV for quite a while now, the Wii package was a bit of an impulse purchase following a blood test and subsequent phone call from my doctor.

First of all I learned I needed to top up my thyroid medication. It's a strange kind of relief to get this direction, because it means that any slumpiness I've been feeling is not on account of any fault with myself in the sense of my personal attitude towards things, it's because my thyroxine levels are low. Or at least that's how I'll excuse any lack of motivation or low mood on my part.

The next piece of news was not unexpected either. I've had blood tests before that have revealed elevated cholesterol levels. It's a familial thing, although the only heart problems that I'm aware of in my family's history have been suffered by post-menopausal women. Either way, it's still not a good state of affairs for me personally and so I will embark on the doctor's advice, as I do every time, with a renewed sense of determination, as I also do every time, to keep up with the ingestion of fish oil and psyllium husks. This time I have actually gone out and bought one of those margarines that help lower cholesterol absorption. I haven't done this previously because I tend not to use butter or margarine as a spread; I go without, and any cooking is done with olive or canola oil, peanut oil or, yes, butter. Although I so rarely cook with butter--less than once a fortnight--that I figured it would have little effect. But obviously I'm getting the bad version of cholesterol from somewhere so anything that will help reduce its absorption must be embraced.

The other major factor in elevated cholesterol is, of course, the dreaded exercise. This is something my doctor also asks me about every time I see her. As with the dietary advice, I try and commit to doing more, but aside from a three year period in my mid-twenties, I've never been a natural athlete or exerciser. Courtesy of high-school PE classes I've always associated exercise with bullying, abject humiliation, and acute embarrassment. (If there's an obesity epidemic, then it's not just the purveyors of fast food who need to step up and take responsibility. Every PE teacher who's ever cultivated a fascist class environment is just as culpable).

Anyway, this is where the Wii Fit enters the equation. I saw it advertised and I can't tell you the intense feeling of relief that came over me. I almost feel tears thinking about it. Here was an opportunity to exercise without being harassed by men leaning out of cars while I walked up a hill near where I live. Here was an opportunity to exercise without being scolded for my lack of co-ordination. I wouldn't have to go out, or be pressured into gym memberships with direct deposit payment plans. I could exercise whatever the weather and wear the least flattering of clothes.

I've been using the Wii Fit for four days now. I did the intial body tests and received the bad, although, again, not unexpected, news. I've set goals, guided by the eminently sensible advice offered by the Wii Fit. I've exercised between 30 - 45 minutes every day, and that's not counting the time I've spent bowling, boxing, and playing tennis on the Wii Sport application that came with the Wii Console.

I've learned I'm not so bad at the Wii versions of bowling and boxing. Although I'm not so bad at bowling in real life either. I'm enjoying the tennis; I'm glad it's getting a little more difficult as I progress.

But back to the Wii Fit proper. I think what is so good about it is the emphasis it places on posture and core body strength as a mark of athleticism. It measures that according to your ability to maintain and control shifts in your balance in the various activities on offer. In this vein, I've been skiing and ski jumping and tightrope walking. A few times I've faltered and my Mii--the avatar you create of yourself--tumbled down a hill gathering snow in a tangle of skis and limbs. Twice I fell off the tight-rope while the watching crowd commiserated. While trying to hit a soccer ball with my head, I've been smacked in the face by stray football shoes more times than I care to recall.

There are muscle and yoga workouts too. From the muscle workouts I've learned I have pretty good deep muscle strength. It's encouraging to learn that. No-one's ever made that observation before. I've done meditation before and been told I'm a good breather (what a relief :-P), and that was confirmed by the yoga exercises. The beauty of the yoga program is that the Wii board senses the shifts in your balance, so can offer you advice on maintaining the proper posture in your poses. Very handily, throughout all of the exercises the Wii tracks your balance and allows you to correct yourself by making sure the tracker is always in the blue or yellow areas which are indicated on the screen.

Finally, the aerobic activities have also proved fun and beneficial too. I'm still trying to work out the running. I'm supposed to run at 60% capacity without overtaking the Mii in front of me. I can't quite figure out how to do that, I'm only managing 44% capacity at the moment. It's something to do with consistency of pace.

I'm glad I've just managed to unlock a boxing training game. I'm not sure why I like boxing so much, obviously it's something to do with my knockout success in the Wii Sports version, plus there's almost certainly a head game going on with it too.

I've had moderate success with the step programs. I really am not in possession of much in the way of rhythm. Something to work on.

That said, you should know that I am the hula-hoop queen. It's the one thing I've scored full marks for so far. Not saying I could keep a real one in motion for three minutes straight, but in the realm of Wii, I can maintain six in orbit while catching another two.

While I don't really want this blog to be a tool for the promotion of any product, Wii Fit has transformed my attitude towards daily exercise. For that alone it has been a revelation and, indeed, a revolution. It has more potential to improve my health than any other exercise activity I've tried; it has certainly been more effective and encouraging than any human purveyor of physical activity I've ever encountered.

Immobile

I seem to have misplaced the cord that connects my mobile phone to my computer in the event that I want to download any of the photos I randomly snap as I go about my days.

I vaguely recall putting the cord somewhere that was safe in preparation for transporting my lap top to either work or home where I had plans to share the photos with you on this blog. Clearly my safe place was too effective; I've hidden it from myself.

If my brother and I lived in the same town, I'd be able to send them to his fancy computer via bluetooth. He would point out the flaws in my photography (in the nicest possible way), and maybe he would gussy them up a bit with Photoshop to help me appear a better photographer than I am.

It's all a bit annoying, not least because I guess I'll eventually run out of space on the memory card. The main reason, however, is that posting photos I've taken with my phone usually makes for a fairly low maintenance blog post, where I can chatter inanely about the things I've seen, where I've been etc.

And I think we all need a non-demanding blog post from me at the moment.

If I ever find the cord in question, I'll post the photos, but for now, I'll resort to taking you through them verbally. I won't be describing them so much, as they'll provide a kind of trigger for a musing or ten. Yes, there's that many photos and more.

Anyway. Moving right along.

The first group of photos are dominated by a couple of Hannah related events.

Her birthday was a couple of months ago. Everyone turned up to a place called Jiggling Jacks and watched a roomful of pink clad girls and a couple of boys run around madly, fueled by cordial and various other sugar and preservative laden treats.

I played air hockey with Hannah, but her younger cousin was the most enamoured of the game insisting on playing all the time, until the birthday girl got a bit upset by the lack of attention. All was forgiven when I presented her with a gift that combined her two great loves, ballet and stickers. The stickers were of the reusable variety, so she could create her own stories on a board that folded up like a book.

A few weeks later, Hannah and I had another day out. This time I took her to the Science Centre at the Queensland Museum.

There's a photo that looks like Hannah's head is on a platter with some fruit. She found this optical illusion very amusing. As did I. We each had to have several goes, just to laugh at one another and ourselves.


There was one of those electro-magnetic balls at the museum. (I think that's the right term). You put your hand on the glass ball and the lightning-like light is attracted to your hand. I saw someone putting their hands on the top which had the effect of completely drawing all the 'lightning' upwards. After I'd tried that, Hannah had to have a go too. So I lifted her up. I wonder how long it will be before I can't do that? She's growing so much. But she's still so adorably cute that I want to be able to lift her up for a long time to come.


I took a whole heap of photos of Hannah after we finished some lunch, where she got every bit of junk food she requested. What's the point of being an auntie if you can't encourage bad habits? I did make her wait to eat the Chupa Chup until we got to the movies, so I can be a bit of a grown-up.

Anyway, the photos I took. They were in the museum proper. She stuck her head through holes cut out of a number of props painted to resemble a family from the early 19th century as well as a variety of insects. She was, variously, an old-fashioned dressed girl, as well the girl's mother and father; then she became a fly and a praying mantis. When I was taking the photos of Hannah as an insect, two other children appeared to stick their heads through the holes to have their picture taken too. I don't know where their parents were, but I indulged them, taking their photos and showing them the results, which they seemed quite pleased with, jostling one another to pose for even more.


After we saw Ratatouille, Hannah wanted to go to a park to play on the swings. Last time I'd stayed over her place, we ran out of time to do this, so I wanted to indulge her. We wandered into South Bank and followed some people who I'd overheard talking about going to a playground.

After playing on the playground, Hannah decided she wanted to join some other kids making their way over rocks in a winding paddle-pool. I wasn't too sure about this. She wasn't exactly dressed for it. And if anything happened to her while she was in my care, I would just die. I would die anyway if anything happened to her, but you know what I mean.

It's strange what you draw upon in these moments. I recalled a class I took during undergraduate in feminism and ethics. The lecturer had spoken about raising children and the dilemma of wanting them to be safe, but weighing that up against the need for children to be able to take some risks in order to develop their identities. I wouldn't want to wrap her up in cotton wool, so I perched myself on a rock in the middle of the pool and let her go for it.

In the end I had to channel her mother in order to get her out of the pool. I tried being nice Auntie Kirsty, but that was just met with a response that she would 'never, never, never' get out of the pool. I said, 'I'm being serious. You know, in the way that your Mummy gets serious'. Well, clearly she knows the consequences of not responding to seriousness of the Mummy variety. She was out of there.

There are some nice photos of her making her way across the rocks. Every now and then she struck a ballerina pose for the camera.

I might have to do this exercise in a couple of posts, because this one is getting quite long now. Let me just finish with the final photos of Hannah.

We'd stayed over my oldest sister, V's place the night before our outing and we returned there to meet up with Hannah's mother, F. V has two Cavalier King Charles spaniels, one of whom jumped up on Hannah when she was younger. Ever since then Hannah has been wary of the dogs, sometimes completely panicked in their presence. But the night before, she seemed to have finally come to some kind of peace with them, patting them and telling them how cute they were. At the end of the big day out, she decided she wanted some photos taken with Max and Taffy. So those are the final shots of the day. The funniest pose is one where Hannah seems to have channelled a Home Boy persona. Her arms are crossed and she is glaring at the camera with all the 'tude she can muster. And it's quite a lot.

Paper Folding For Beginners

In response to an earlier post, 'Pretty', about the paper in an origami calender I bought, Mark Lawrence wondered if I was going to post any of the results of my new hobby. I assured him it was more than likely. I need no excuse to get my camera out and start blogging; getting a request to do just that merely encourages me.

January 1: A Nightingale

So, for Mark and his wife, who has also started origami recently, and their son, who helped with the important task of selecting an origami book for his mum, here is the first week of the 2007origami calendar sculptures as folded by me. (Of course, I hope everyone else likes them too!)

January 2: A Dog's Head

Already, I can see why wet orgami was developed. I did a bit of reading and discovered that wet origami allows for more sculpting of shapes, in addition to folding. I can feel my need for perfectionism creeping in, because I've decided that some of the shapes don't resemble what they're supposed to, to the extent that I would like.

But I'm certain that thought is against the ethos of origami, which must surely be about learning precise folding techniques first. And patience.

January 3: A Penguin

I got quite enthused when I saw there was a penguin to make. When my brother got married, one of the things I did with my family while we were in Melbourne was view the penguin parade on Philip Island. My niece called the fairy penguins, 'pengins', which made the whole experience even more delightful. This pengin is for Hannah.

January 4: A Sled

This sled can be for Lucy Pig Puppet, who admired the origami paper too. The weather is more appropriate for a sled where she is in the US, certainly more than in these subtropical climes where it's way to hot and humid. I didn't quite capture the soft lilac of the paper in the photo for this sculpture, unfortunately.

January 5 & 6: A Cupboard Base & A House

One of the things I've learnt about origami is that most of the sculptures start out with what's known as a base. There are a number of different kinds of bases. The cupboard base, shown under the house here (not very well), is formed by folding a square in half, opening it out, then folding the outer edges to the centre crease so you're left with a kind of cupboard. The house sculpture starts with this base.

Another base I've used to this point is the scarf base, which is just a square folded in half, along the diagonal line, to form a triangle, or a scarf shape. The calendar has a series of very helpful cards that detail these bases along with some other frequent folds. These guides help keep the instructions for each sculpture to a minimum.

January 7: A Bench

I like this bench as much as a photograph as I do as a piece of origami. I've always liked photographs with a shallow depth of field, but I tend to struggle to take very effective photos of this kind on my camera. I think I managed it much better in this instance than I have on other occasions. I guess I'll have plenty of opportunity to experiment further on this, because there will be more origami photos.

Consider yourself forewarned etc.

Starting With Dessert

I've got a couple of fairly serious posts in the works. I'm having my usual anxieties about how revealing they are, not just about the people I mention in them, but, you know whether or not they offer irrefutable evidence that I actually am a terrible, self-indulgent, narcissist. I'm not sure that this post will counter those last two charges, but I'm offering it as a kind of sweetner so that it might mitigate the first charge--a bit.

Over Christmas and the New Year, I spent time with family and friends, and these are some things that made me laugh:

1. My niece's parents, my sister, F, and my brother-in-law, J, are practising Christians. As such, they have sent Hannah to a Christian kindergarten where she learned what is known as the Superman Grace. She likes to get her mother to promise that she can lead grace at meal times on family occasions. I found a copy of it online:

SUPERMAN GRACE
(tune of Superman -- da, da-da, da da-da-da-da)

Thank you Lord, for giving us food
(actions: standing, then crouch [thank you Lord] and raise right arm overhead as you stand [for giving us food])
Thank you Lord, for giving us food
(actions: same as above only raise left arm this time)
For the food we eat
(actions: standing with both arms over head, sway to the left)
For the friends we meet
(actions: standing with both arms over head, sway to the right)
Thank you Lord, for giving us food!
(actions: standing, then crouch [thank you Lord] and raise both arms over head as you stand [for giving us food])

Hannah delivers it with such adorable enthusiasm and, of course, all the adults, whether Christian or not, are obliged to join in. I do the actions for Hannah, but tend not to sing, because I would feel like a hypocrite since I'm not of the God-fearing persuasion.

On New Year's Eve, however, I found myself telling some friends about it. I managed to remember the words and the actions--although I delivered them sitting down. The trouble with the Superman theme is that it's quite catchy. It can be difficult to get out of your head, and when you've had a few melon flavoured sparkling wines, you might start to think of other lyrics to the prayer. Maybe something like:

Thank you Lord, for giving us booze
Thank you Lord, for giving us booze

For sparkling wine
For Vodka Cruisers

Thank you Lord, for giving us booze!

Yes, it's true, I will be going to Hell.

2. My brother, S, and his wife, I., made a fairly last minute decision to visit Brisbane from Melbourne over Christmas. I love the way the two of them interact. There is such warmth and laughter and appreciation for one another between them. I really enjoy I.'s company and she is a bit of a puzzle fiend like myself. Between us we have accomplished the seemingly impossible task of converting S to Scrabble. He has always said he doesn't have much of a vocabulary. I don't really like that he puts himself down about it so much, and whenever he used a more complex word in his speech, which he does often enough, I joined in with I. to say he might want to use that word in Scrabble. Soon we had him jokingly admitting that it had been his excuse for not playing Scrabble with I., which was a good sign that he's beginning to believe he's not a dunce. (He's never been a dunce; he was subject to a lot of unhelpful and negative bullying around his academic achievement or lack thereof, which made him believe he was.)

Anyway, I. is also a fan of Sudoku, which I'd recently down-loaded to my phone. There's a whole spiel here about how I find it, and Scrabble, relaxing, because I can feel that both games seem to use another part of my brain than I usually use in my academic work. Anyway, I. liked this idea, and said to S that they'd have to download an electronic version of the game when they got home.

She said that she wanted to prevent the onset of Alzheimer's Disease, so she could continue to nag him well into their nineties.

3. The last moment of hilarity occurred in the wee hours of New Year's Day morning. I was playing The Margaret and David's At The Movies Boardgame (I know, I know. I am such a party animal) with friends. I had a serious case of the hiccups, which is always an unfortunate thing when you've had a few drinks. There is no way you can convince anyone you're not drunk, but rather that you breathed the wrong way when you were ingesting a rice cracker while talking and messed up the proper functioning of your diaphragm. No one wants to hear that boring, but perfectly physiollogically sound explanation amidst New Year's celebrations.

The hiccups had been going on for a while and the usual cures had been discussed and passed over, when one of my friends turned to me and said, 'Did you hear that George W. Bush will be serving another term?' I looked at her quizzically, all the while thinking, but isn't he midway through serving his second term? It isn't possible for him to serve a third is it? Another friend at the table had been going through the same thought process, when the friend who had made this bizarre claim, said 'Did that frighten you?'.

I don't know if you'll find that as funny in translation as I did, but the timing was perfect, as was the choosing of the threat of an additional four years of George W. at the helm of the world as something sufficiently frightening to scare the hiccups out of me. I swear I laughed for five minutes, paused for a breath, and then proceed to laugh for another five. I laughed 'til I truly hurt, long after the hiccups had disappeared.

Simple Pleasures

This is the first instalment in what is likely to be an ongoing but irregular series of posts about things that I like. There will be a lot of talk about television and food.

Mysterious Ball

The latest in the wooden puzzle series spilled its guts—which was the aim of the Mysterious Ball—after only forty minutes of concerted interrogation. I think what I like about my ability to solve these puzzles is that it reveals I’m quite good at spatial visualisation, for which I’ve always thought I had no aptitude. When it comes to determining how to get from A to B or recalling how to return to A from B, I’ve never really applied myself, relying on car drivers and public transport providers—although now that I think about it, walking everywhere does require some navigational skill in order to find the best shortcut (On the other hand, I have been known to forget which direction I’m going when I get to the end of supermarket aisles). The other thought that occurs to me here is with regard to Scrabble. I have a theory that it isn’t simply a matter of having an affinity for words that makes a winning Scrabble player—as so many who decline to play Scrabble with English postgraduates are convinced. It’s also about being able to visualise where the pieces you have on your letter holder will go on the board. At least that’s always been my reasoning for the closely pitted contests I’ve had with my brother-in-law, who, as well as being a fitter and turner by trade, has been known on several occasions to get the 50 point bonus. I think there’s something to it.

Spider Solitaire

In particular, I like the sound of the cards being dealt. I turn the computer speakers on especially to hear it while I play. Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick. Play it again, Sam! So I do until I go cross-eyed, determined to win so that the computer will exclaim its congratulations in a blaze of animated fireworks. All achievements should be rewarded in such a manner.

Teaching

Or, more specifically, being teased by students. This week we looked at star images, how they’re created and how they articulate, and circulate through, various discourses. One of the things I do is get the students to tell me everything they know about someone they’ve identified as a star, as distinct to a celebrity. After they noted that one only has to be a human being with functioning eye sight—perhaps not even that, I’m not sure the extent to which gossip magazines are adapted for the visually impaired—to know about Brad Pitt at the moment, I got to writing on the white board as much as I could capture of what they were telling me. One of the observations about Brad was that he was noted for being fashionable, with an ever-changing hair style. The exact words were ‘funky dude’. I wrote ‘funky/fashionable’. They insisted I add ‘dude’, so I did.


I’ve debated with myself over the years whether to write on the board at university level; it feels so high-school-ish, and I’m not a school teacher. I got some feedback in a teaching evaluation once that suggested I should write on the board, rather than sit down and just discuss things verbally. My first reaction was along the lines of ‘this is not the performing arts; learn to listen and take your own notes’. To some extent I still agree with this, but as a device to use during a brain storming session, so students don’t forget the examples that have been raised, scribbling on the board adds a visual element to reinforce what they’re hearing. It’s all about colour and movement. That doesn’t mean I’ll start wearing a yellow skivvy, but I might be tempted to yell ‘Wake up, Jeff’.


Carrot Salad

Yes. Just look at its carroty goodness. You know you’ll feel virtuous after a serve of this. When I first made it, I didn’t quite have all the ingredients. So I took the advice once given to me by the proprietor of an Indian grocers, which was cook with what you have. It’s been invaluable advice in helping me loosen up in the kitchen. I’ve always been a stickler for following recipes, and despite assurances from my chef brother that technique also makes a good cook, I’ve always felt that I lack imagination in preparing food. Anyway, on the maiden attempt at this salad, I didn’t have enough carrots, so I supplemented what I did have with finely sliced red capsicum. The recipe also called for an orange in the dressing. I used to eat a lot of oranges but, recently, I’d be surprised if I’ve eaten one in three months. Suffice to say, I didn’t have an orange either. I had plenty of lemons though, so I used those and then added some palm sugar to sweeten the taste. I also added some orange essential oil to take the place of the orange rind that was required. You may be able to tell from the picture that there are sesame seeds in the salad. When I was figuring out what to replace the absent ingredients with, I was trying to determine whether I would replace them with Asian ingredients or Middle Eastern ingredients. At first I went for Asian, because of the coriander and sesame already in the salad, which is when I decided upon the palm sugar. But then I noticed that the dressing asked for some more sesame seeds to be toasted and pounded in a mortar and pestle. While sesame seeds are an Asian ingredient, when you start to pound them to tahini, then you are definitely entering into a Middle Eastern use of them. Just thinking now, I guess the grated carrot and orange juice was probably another big give away that the recipe was heading West. I do think that you could create a more Asian inspired dressing for this salad, using lime and fish sauce, that would go equally well with the carrots and coriander.

Infernal Puzzle

A friend I did my honours year with contacted me recently. She works for the British Library now and wanted to ask me about zines in relation to an aspect of her job. I did my Master’s research on zines in Australia, so I was able to help her out. We had lost contact over the years; she went on to complete a PhD and, since I always go the long way around, I decided to do a Master’s and even managed to find some further detours along that circuitous route. That’s not to say her road has been exactly easy. In our email conversations, one of the things I learned was that someone had attempted to sue her for something she had written in her doctoral thesis. She didn’t go into detail, and that’s probably for the best, especially since I’m writing about it here. You do your best to ensure anonymity in a blog, but I’m sure, like those smudged and pixelated faces that appear on the news, if you know the person in question, then their identity is all too apparent. Clearly, for whatever reason, the threat was not acted upon, nevertheless it must have been a traumatic experience.

As I finalise my application and research proposal for the PhD I intend to do, L___’s experience is yet another occasion to reflect upon the motivating impulse to pursue an academic career. It’s not an easy route, even without being threatened with a law suit (or indeed a ‘blowhard asshole’, which is the worst thing I was ever called by a zine publisher.) It’s certainly one of those professions mentioned in Money that ‘require a great deal of time and money in graduate education, offer working conditions that only passion can excuse, and there may be such a long run for the roses that you forfeit prime working and child-bearing years just to achieve a salary that college peers were earning a decade earlier.’ I’m not worried about having children (I have an adorable niece) or a large salary (I’d rather have an ongoing income with holiday and sick pay), but I do have qualms about the investment of time. It isn’t enough to be good at teaching in universities; there are no rewards, in terms of career advancement, for the time spent preparing and presenting lectures and tutorials, and marking assignments with carefully worded feedback. If the students even recognise the amount of effort you put in, and decide not to tick all the lowest boxes on the teaching evaluation forms for their own amusement, then the university still expects you to secure the renewal of your employment contract by promoting them and attracting funding through the delivery of conference papers, successful grant applications and a prolific publication record.

Every time I mention to my doctor that I’m going to do a PhD, she says ‘Hmmm’, and last time she said quite pointedly that I’d have to work out how I was going to balance the various aspects of my life to ensure ongoing mental health. In view of the demands of academic life, the doctor’s advice is more cause to hesitate. Is there a fledgling academic who hasn’t been advised to abandon any semblance of a social life in the pursuit of their higher degree? (I think those who offer this advice should read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein again, and ponder the consequences of Victor Frankenstein’s pursuit of knowledge to the exclusion of all else.)

I suppose, while I’m apprehensive about beginning a PhD, I almost feel as though I don’t have a choice about this career path. For all the agony of academic life, I would rather be in pain than numb.

***

If anyone has wondered about the fate of the wooden puzzles after the Evil Star debacle, the next one in the series was the Infernal Pyramid, pictured here. As you can see it’s comprised of six pieces, which interlock to form the pyramid. This one proved to be more of a challenge, occupying me for a couple of hours as I half-watched television. The guidelines for this puzzle expressly warned against studying it too closely while you first dismantled it, thereby proving to be much better advice than offered previously.

I picked up the next puzzle today. This one is called the Mysterious Ball and the object of the puzzle is to dismantle it, rather than assemble or reassemble it. I’ve looked at it a bit, and I haven’t solved it yet. Stay tuned for updates!

Twinkle Twinkle Evil Star

I have recently begun collecting a publication that was advertised on television, Classic Puzzles and Brain Teasers. Normally I am not seduced by these kind of offers. You know the sort, the first issue is offered for the low, low price of $2.95, while subsequent issues require the taking out of a personal loan and a committment that stretches years beyond the initial impulse. This campaign coincided with the beginning of my recent period of under-employment, I was still struggling to be Zen with the abyss created by the shift from having to work seven days a week to keep my head above water to working only Monday evenings and Tuesdays. In the midst of second-guessing the vagaries of casual short- term employment contracts and wishing my Scrabble playing buddy hadn't moved to Melbourne three years ago, I was enticed by the advertisement's promise of quality wooden classic puzzles that would also double as very nice decorative items.

I searched the first issue down, finding it in the third newsagency I visited, since the first two had under-estimated the popularity of the series and sent their copies back to the distributor. I approached first puzzle, the Tower of Hanoi, with trepidation. What if I couldn't solve it? Would I be left with this strange wooden ornament whose presence would taunt me with my failure rather than, as I hoped, a monument to own cleverness? My anxiety was ill-founded and after a couple of hours, I had completed the puzzle, surprised at myself. What was even better was that doing the puzzle had had the desired effect of distracting me from my lack of employment.

I eagerly awaited the next puzzle, the Elastic Cube. It arrived as a completed cube, which I had to unravel to begin the puzzle. I worried that if I studied the way the cube was assembled too closely as I pulled it apart, it wouldn't present much of a challenge, so I closed my eyes and quickly pulled it apart. It took me two days of twiddling and fiddling, on and off,creating misshapen cubes with various cavities and appendages along the way, to reassemble the puzzle. At 4.50pm on a Friday two weeks ago, I completed the cube with a sense of great satisfaction.

Yesterday, I picked up the third issue of the series. The guy at my local newsagency, looked at the most recent puzzle, the Evil Star, and commented that it looked like an interesting one this time. I was modest, 'We'll see how I go', still not assuming I could solve it, in spite of my success with the other puzzles. When I got home, I had to go out again pretty much straight away, but couldn't resist opening up the Evil Star, just to have a quick look at it. I briefly read the rules of the puzzle--you had to assemble the puzzle in your hands and weren't able to use a flat surface--and took the advice that I should study the accompanying picture of the assembled puzzle. I thought , 'I'll just pull the puzzle apart and start to consider some options for putting it together'. It took more than I expected to pull the puzzle apart even though the magazine had said it would be easy. I attributed the puzzle's resistance to its newness. Then I began to figure out how to solve the puzzle and, in less time than it had taken to pull apart, it was back together! I was convinced I had done something wrong. I pulled it apart again. And put it back together, AGAIN! 'But, but, this is meant to be as difficult as the other two puzzles. Stupid, stupid Evil Star! Call yourself 'evil'? Hah! Lily-livered twinkle Star more like it!'

Back to underemployment.