Some photos to go with Oldey Daze

This is me. In what I wore. Despite my best effort at worrying, no one else turned up in the same thing.



The couple. Hopefully they don't mind too much I put this here. Just to show what they wore.



Each wedding brings a different special gift for helping the bride and groom celebrate their day. One I was at was gold foil wrapped chocolates. This one was a glass. But not just an ordinary glass....

Ye Olden Dayes

Well, I think I have blathered on a couple of entries ago bout a wedding we had an invite to. A medieval themed wedding. It happened last weekend. And it was good.

It was small. And cozy. I like a small reception. And true, there were people there we didn't know. But about half of them were from work, so I couldn't plead Nigel NoFriends. Oh, now I think of it, I couldn't plead that anyway. I took the Elder. MOTH was supposed to go with me, but he had been sick and couldn't make it. So, the Elder sacrificed herself for a free meal and offered to go in his stead.

We dressed to the occasion. There were only a handful who didn't. And it looked good. The bride assured me that she had sewn her gown, the groom's outfit, the tabards the male relatives wore, and that the machine had broken two days ago. The rest of the outfits had to be finished by hand. Whew.

The ceremony was conducted by a celebrant who also dressed for the occasion. As a monk. Odd that. It was held in a small local hall, under a white wooden bower topped with flowers and ribbons. We traipsed across the way for the photos, and killed some time before returning to the hall for the feast.

And a feast it was. Salad, roast veges, roast chicken, beef and pork. With warm breadrolls and butter. And gravy. And for dessert - black forest cake, berry pavlova and vanilla icecream.

Potables - thank you Professor Lawson, I hadn't thought about that word before - were supplied in the form of canned softdrink, red and white wine and a keg of Coopers pale. Which, we found out, wouldn't work. But, specifically recalled from the pub, one of the GT knew his way round the rig, and soon fixed it. I made sure to have a glass. Just to celebrate the fact it was fixed.

After dinner, the way was cleared and the knights took their stance for the featured bout. These chaps obviously took their task seriously - they came complete with plate armour and chain mail. A kneeled greeting to the bride and groom, and into the serious stuff they went. We were a little worried about the walls and floor - they weren't mucking around. It was fascinating stuff to watch. I can see why they liked their tourneys.

But, the end of the night rolled around and my driver requested we return home. I still got to navigate though. The return was easier - I didn't get us lost. Mind, the lost on the way there was minor, and only meant that we had hit the deviation without realising it. And still made it in plenty of time.

Pictures will follow in due time - when I get myself back into this time period and get them uploaded to the computer. So I can upload them here....

Wacky Wednesday. I missed Heroes!

Been a wearying week. So far, today being only Friday. But most of it happened from Wednesday on.

I may, or I may not, have mentioned that we have a wedding to attend on the weekend. I am looking forward to it. Not every day you get to dress up in costume for a wedding. Added bonus is seeing the whole GT doing the same. I do confess that instead of purchasing a costume, I decided to buy myself a dress for the occasion. I am, as you do at these occasions, hoping that no one else turns up in the same outfit. Ok, so it's not strictly medieval, but is close to. I am also hoping that I don't put on any extra weight - fully on the cards - cause, honey, this thing is tight! More my body shape though I be thinking.

But I digress. After the purchase of the obligatory card to attach to the present, I opened my mouth and volunteered to 'pretty up' the inside. Which was blank. S'ok, I had 2 days to do it. Not a problem.

The Elder is very unhappily unemployed. She decided to step up the job search this week. Ok, you can't really step down from doing nothing. So, although she doesn't seem to be unemployed for long periods, she doesn't have an awful lot of experience with cover letters and selection criteria. This week we are supposed to sit down and go through them. Monday, nope, didn't happen. Tuesday she went home before I got home. So, halfway through the week, still not done.

Wednesday night comes along. I aim to start going through things with her, then clear the desk and start looking at the illumination project. Not a worry. After dinner, we start the letter.

I take a break and head for the kitchen to raid the cupboard. Did I mention that MOTH has been unwell? The coughing continues. And I'm head down in the pantry moaning over the Teen's shoulder about it. I walk around the corner, into ........ what?

The Elder is holding MOTH's hand, tugging. Trying to get him sat up. He is red in the face and doesn't appear to be able to catch his breath. She's shocked and almost crying. What the heck happened? The upshot is, we decide to call the ambulance and get him off to the hospital.

The ambos arrive. Wonderful people. Calm, unflappable. By this time, MOTH has regained some form of normalcy. But he's almost convinced himself that he's not sick. And while watching all they are doing, I notice that Heroes has started. Typical. My only spot of telly, and I'm going to miss it. It's now about 20:37. And we follow the ambulance to the hospital.

Hospitals are such boring, boring places. And full of sick people. This one was quite upmarket - it had 1 telly, and a coffee vending machine. But they are still boring. And they aren't named a 'waiting area' for nothing.

Finally, at 02:15 or so, he is finally discharged from outpatients. I am sooo happy to be going home.

I did miss most of Heroes though, didn't get to finish the letter, and not even a start on the illumination project. I do manage, though, to give MOTH a bit of a ribbing that last time I had a big project, he pulled a trip to the hospital stunt. He grins. And tells me he's sorry, but I don't believe him. I give him a kiss and tuck him up in bed, it's 02:45 and I hope he's ok.

Thursday rolls around way too soon, and I'm up again at 06:21. I decide to go to work late, and work a little on the illumination project. Off to work and I'll have to finish the card tonight. And so I did. Finish the card. At 23:30.

Sigh, it's been a wearying week.

Camera hogs. Or left on the cutting room floor

Wow, it's been a while since I last bothered to write here. Should rectify that. Like, immediately.

The title says it all. Or it would have. If it were accurate. But it did seem accurate at the time.

The Elder's bf has a bit of a hobby. Though he would probably be a little narked that I call it a hobby. He 'dances' in a popping and locking crew. Called Shift 1. And they are pretty good too. Or so I'm told. And she tells me. Often.


So she tells me, They're going to be on tv! On the Shak. On Monday! Tape it (or else). So I sat through the program and taped it. Nearly missed it, but thank goodness for the 11th hour. And there it was. Supposedly a segment with Picasso. A very brief flash of colour for about 3 seconds, she wearing the yellow jacket. And that was it. Whaa? We've been gyped. I felt outraged. What a rip off! They've been left on the cutting room floor!

Course, then I found out that it wasn't Monday after all. It was Tuesday. So, again with the 11th hour and set the tape and off we go. But this time, yay! The proper segment. And I have to admit, they did look good......

The Elder got home. We watched it together. She was happy. We all were happy. Then MOTH taped over it........ 2 hours later ......... Love that sentimental soppiness.

End of fun. And back to normal....

Sigh. I've reached the end of my holidays.
And all is back to normal on Monday.
I'm soooo looking forward to that. Not.

And what have I managed to accomplish these holidays? Not a lot. Spoiled MOTH by doing the washing. ....... yep, that's about it.

Oh. I did manage to see a movie. Yes. I did. I managed to go see 300. I loved it. But I like movies like that. I have heard mixed comments. Reviewers seemed to like it. But a lot of viewers didn't.

You have to remember though, it IS based on a graphic novel. Any resemblance to historical fact could be accidental. The cgi is fantastic. The fight scenes are beautifully choreographed. Suspend disbelief and you might enjoy it.

Saturday is half over, and again I doubt I have managed to accomplish much.
Except the washing. Again.
I have a dvd to watch. MI 3.
But I can't be bothered setting up the player.
I have a sketch book awaiting my pitiful ministrations, but I can't get motivated to get into that either.
I had been playing Primal, but got to a point where I could go no further. I decided to ditch the lot and start again. Hit a snag here too. A tree I need to push refuses to be pushed. And now, the controller has given up and gone on holiday.
I'm reading Wendy Harmer's 2nd novel. Love and Punishment. About a breakup and revenge. I'm enjoying it, but for me, I'm taking it slowly.
I haven't long finished volumes 1 and 2 of Basilisk: The Kouga Ninja Scrolls. I was saving them. I wasn't going to touch them yet. But I succumbed. The only problem with Manga. They're over so quickly. Much like a good dessert really........

I actually managed to sit through a game of league last night. And enjoyed it too. Now I usually hate sport in all it's many forms. Oh, except I'm willing to concede that there are some of the winter olympics I like. And no, figure skating is not necessarily one of them. More like ice hockey...... But I digress. I really enjoyed the game. Mind, the fact that the team I was barracking for won might have helped........

Timelords. Or getting my head around time zones...

Well, I've made it through Easter and out the other side. But I seem to have lost a day. If not, why does my Google calendar tell me it's Wednesday 11 April?

Ok, so. Here we are GMT +1o. Which suits me fine. And Google calendar tells me so too. But so many different time zones. And not just internationally. As I might have mentioned in a previous whinge, I organise staff travel. And most of that is international. Just as well I have World Time bookmarked! If you need to call anyone, heaven forbid, then you have to check the time first. China - 2 hours behind. New Zealand - 2 hours ahead. USA - all over the place.

And it doesn't get any better within Australia. Some states have daylight saving. Which, thank heaven has finished for the season. Things are back to normal. But some states don't have daylight saving. If I need to phone interstate, I have to pause. Not good, because any delay means I have to sort myself out all over again. So, is daylight saving finished yet? If not, the rest of the Easter Seaboard is 1 hour ahead. The middle of the country is now 1/2 hour ahead, and as for the rest of the country, I can never remember where they are at anyway.

But to add to the fun, the Powers That Be want to introduce daylight saving in part of the state. How would that work? It's short circuiting my little brain enough as it is.

They've tried, several times now, to get daylight saving introduced. Without success. But they'll keep pushing till everyone gets sick of it, and votes yes at the next referendum. And then I'll have another time consideration to contend with.......... Lucky me.

Monday. Or limping along to the weekend.

Can't believe it's April already!!

Sometime last month, I wrote that I had reached the anniversary of my ankle bust up. And I have been doing well. And I had. But since making that note, I am noticing small things that aren't, well, quite right.

Cramps. I have been getting a lot of cramps in my calf muscle and my foot. Feels kinda strange to be doing a stretch and finding your toes just want something different. And refuse to return to normal positioning.

Pins and needles. That feel like your foot is just about to fall asleep. Only intermittent though. I am just waiting for the numb feeling that goes with it. The one that changes your gait completely and leaves your foot flopping about like a fish on a river bank.

Pain when you try to cross your ankles. Well, that one has made sure that I sit in a more ladylike position. No more manly crossing my right ankle over my left knee. Which makes for some interesting angles when you are trying to balance a book. On your knees while sitting in the couch and colouring in. (All right, I'll admit to that childish passtime.)

Pain. When moving after having been sitting at the desk for a while. It takes a while to get the joint somewhat functional again.

And today. It's swollen. Red. Hot to the touch. Which can't be a good sign really. But I have no other experience of broken bones to compare it to. Can I expect things like this to happen every so often?

And all so soon after my 12 month mark. Perhaps my warranty has expired?

Blah and flu

I notice it's been a little while since I last wrote. That's because I am busy. Too busy being boring.

Feeling off colour today. Blah and headachey. Hoping I'm not coming down with something. I'm taking holidays soon and I don't want to spend them sick. It's only a week, and I have great plans for that week. Like, staying home and doing nothing. But I would rather be doing nothing healthily than doing nothing sickly.

They offer free flu injections at work. I don't usually take them up on it. I don't usually get the flu. But you watch, this time I will....

Thank Heaven for Sunday

Sunday. And I sit here, trying to recover. My weekends are never usually packed with much of anything at all. But it all happened for me yesterday.

Thursday night I made an appointment with, hopefully, my new hairdresser. I have been living here for 4 years now. Which means having to find a new 'dresser. No small task for a girl. Especially one who is fussy about what sort of job they may do. I have my hair layered. Long layers. And they are too easy to mess with. I had a 'dresser tell me once that my hair would never accept layers. And proceeded to demonstrate by pulling parts of it up to show that they wouldn't blend. I didn't bother telling the hopeless woman I have had layers in my hair since time immemorial.

But I digress. Hair appointment. Saturday morning. Friday evening, a call from a friend. Please come over for a bbq tomorrow lunch. We've won a meat tray. Ok, no problem, I'll just squeeze that in.

So Saturday. Hair appointment in the morning. Off to the other side of the city for bbq lunch. Home for a quick nanna nap, then out to the restraurant for dinner. Home from that and duck across the road to the neighbour's house to join her birthday party. An invitiation to which we received shortly after the dinner was organised.

The dinner, btw, was subperb. The restaurant is attached to the Morrisons in the Gabba, the steakhouse is Fiasco's. There were about 9 of us at table. Service was fast, the meal was excellent. I don't think a single person had a complaint. I had the king prawns, in a cream sauce on jasmine rice. Perfect.

So. Sunday. Time for a rest. If today was this busy, I think I would be needing to go to work for a holiday.......

Is it home time yet?

So Friday is nearly over. And I can't say I will be upset to see the end of this week. It has been rather stressful, with all wanting stuff yesterday. Even if I only got it today. However, one of them did appreciate my efforts. Perhaps she picked up on the vibe that I wasn't exactly impressed that I had to ring someone to ask a question. Again. I got a chocolate bar out of it.

They're in their meeting today. Hopefully it has all come together. But I guess perhaps it has as I have not yet got a call to sort things out. But having just mentioned it......

I am sitting here, munching on a cake. Some one has donated a cake to the cause. A homemade butter cake. That looks like a watermelon. Bright green, bright pink and chocolate chips. Long live the sugar high.

So we are in the middle of organising a conference for May. And we are examining our options for schwag. Love that stuff. For those not in the know, it's the free stuff given out or swiped from the vendors. Last year, mine included a polo shirt. One of the things we are looking at are flashing ice cubes. In the shape of footballs. It didn't take one of the GT long to pretend they were eyes, and run around holding them up and letting them flash........

I refer back to the comment re sugar high. I seem to have combined the cake with coffee - not in the same cup of course - and have no sugar high. Coffee makes me sleepy. Or should I say, that drinking strong instant coffee gives me no caffeine boost. At all. I can drink a cup of coffee and still go to bed and sleep. Perhaps the fact that I drink it white might be the problem.

I actually have a quite a social life this weekend. This afternoon I am supposed to be going for drinks after work. But having drunk the coffee, I am ready right now for a nanna nap. If I don't improve before the end of work, I don't think I will be capable of going. My social calendar is usually very empty. This time though, I have 2 things that overlap on the same day. Now how did that happen? But though I would like to attend both, I can only manage to be in one place at once. What am I saying? Aren't I supposed to be a mother??? So, the farewell dinner for one of the GT's wins. I'm hoping that the neighbours will still be partying when I come home from the restaurant. Won't have to miss either then.

Bodies. Or where to hide?

Whew. The afternoon wears on, and after this morning, I thought I would take the time to relax a little.

------
Have just discovered what a pain the lack of public transport where I live is. I have to find a way to get the Teen home from school. And it's an hour walk.....

------
In the middle of all this relaxing, I am reminded of watching MOTH bend over to pick something off the kitchen floor. Now he's not getting any younger, or thinner, but I am certain neither he, the Teen nor I had any inkling of a disaster narrowly avoided. He bent over. And being built a bit like the Roly Poly man, he almost did a Humpty Dumpty on the kitchen floor. Well, a small grunt, a couple of steps, and almost head first into the open fridge. The Teen and I were in helpless hysterics.

But I am reminded of various tumbles, trips and near misses.
Falling down in the shower and taking the shower curtain with him. Sister 1 standing anxiously outside the bathroom door, not sure whether to rush in and offer assistance.
Bending over to retrieve a ball he had been throwing at me. Misjudging the distance of the wall behind and bouncing behind off the wall.
Trailing fingers down the wall of the front steps. In the rain. Wearing a motorcycle helmet. Fingermarks take a sudden downward trend and he never hit his head once. Incidentally, the fingermark was still there when we moved out some years later.
Running up the street chasing a kite which escaped. Falling flat on his stomach. And bouncing.

So, what do we do when our body begins to change and we are no longer accustomed to the shape of it? The size and the volume we now take up? I lost track of the number of times I sideswiped doors when I was pregnant. And finding that I can no longer slide between the chair and the bench like I used to. Leaning over the sink and getting the front of my shirt wet because I am resting on the edge of the bench.

I would desperately love to resize myself. But then I think of the hard work it takes. ....... nah. Think I will just have to learn how to avoid face plants in the kitchen .....

Happy Anniversary to me

And today, on strict instructions from my friend, I am wearing flats.....

Today is worth celebrating. I think. Today is worth worrying about. Today is...... the 12 month mark in recovery. From a broken ankle. Yes, today is something of an anniversary.

On 14 March 2006, on my way home from work, I lost my balance. And broke my right ankle. Doing something stupid. Like, getting off a bus. While sober. And while wearing platform shoes. But no one will stop me wearing those things. I've been doing it for years, and shall continue to do so.

But I digress. It was an old bus. One I call a clunker. Which should have been put off the road years ago. Lacking noticeably in stature, I am forced to make a choice - a long step down to the road, or a long step out to the footpath. I chose, as usual, the latter. Time has a funny way of taking .... well, its time ..... in situations like those. I even had enough time to tell myself - as if I hadn't already figured that part out - I was going to fall over. Really, how stupid do I think I am? Well, I guess the ankle tells that tale......

And I heard it break as I went over. How creepy is hearing your own body begin to malfunction? Not pleasant. My first concern was that no one would help me and I would have to try figure out a way to get help. There had recently been in the news a story of another woman in another suburb who, in a much more serious condition than I, had lain on the footpath for hours before someone stopped to help her.

Mind, I couldn't have chosen a better place to do it. If I had planned it in advance that is. Right outside the podiatrist's rooms. Yay for me. Aren't I clever???

At any rate, during the course of my recuperation, I found out just how much we rely on being whole and intact. Not having had to live with an injury of this type before, I was stunned to discover that I couldn't do basic things - like get into and out of the shower without help, prepare and carry my own meals/drinks and lots of other basic things.

Crutches are bloody hard work. I hated the things. 8 weeks in plaster, counting the backslab I had to wear for the first couple of weeks after surgery. 9 to 10 weeks on crutches, and I threw those away as soon as I could put weight on my ankle again. If I am ever stupid enough to do this again, it's wheelchair all the way.

And rehab! (Hey, I've been in rehab. I'm trendy!) 3 months of intensive physio including pilates mat classes and gym, each twice a week. I did manage to talk her out of giving me pool work though. Hate pools.

But I think I have done well. Considering I have 2 screws on the inside of my ankle, complimented by a plate with 7 or more pins on the outside. 8 months after the injury I was back wearing my platforms. Although I do make concessions, and these days I wear flats a lot more frequently. I actually had to buy a pair for while I was on crutches - I had none.

... and no, I don't set off the alarm at the airport ...

Living with a Teenage Drama Queen

Ok, I give up. I'm living with a Drama Queen. Well, I always knew that, but last night it was driven home. In a big way.

The Teen arrived home from work. Sometimes she's chipper. Sometimes not. Last night, definitely not. In fact, she came through the door. Crying hard. And early. OMG! What happened?! Visions of lost job swirling through my head. But no, that would have made her happy.

Straight round to the kitchen, crying and yelling. Dancing about, ordering and yelling. Which gets my back up quick smart. When she finally calmed a little, but still crying, I found out the reason why. She was suffering hot water scalding. Both hands, wrists and forearms.

The worst part is the tale she tells from the employer. Who told her to run her hands under the cold tap. And did nothing else. Fair enough, MOTH was there to pick her up. The least would have been a suggestion for him to take her to the hospital and let them know what was happening. I didn't ask his side of the story so for all I know, it could have been suggested. There seemed to be some disagreement 'tween MOTH and the Teen about what an ambulance could have offered and the ambo station being dark.

At any rate, she commenced with the hopping up and down, panic and demands. Still crying of course. Now, having done similar myself, I know how much it can hurt. Mind, she could have won an Oscar for all the wailing and gnashing of teeth. Eventually I had to ask her what her last slave died from.

Eventually things calmed back down though and she said "mum, I've never experienced pain like it". Nor should she. She's only 14 .....

Ah, the perils of living with a Teenage Drama Queen.......

The loss of modern tech....

OMG!

On the way to work this morning I realised I was running late. Heck I don't care - I don't like getting to work early. But I have a friend I travel on the train with. Who gets on at a station earlier than mine. Who spreads herself all over the seat, and saves it for me. Aint that special? So, if I'm late, I'll just send a text and let her know. Not a problem.

Until I realised - my phone is still on the kitchen counter attached to the charger!! >.< D'ho!!

Which led me to thinking, how difficult could it be not having my mobile for the day? Can I live without it? Well, I guess I will have to, but its 0924 and I miss it already. Ok, I haven't had to use it. It's a security thing. Just to have it there. I'm good. I'm strong. I can do without it. ..... Until I have to let MOTH know I'm on the way home so he can pick me up. And my music. I'll have to ride the bus/train with no music. How the heck am I going to manage that????

But on the lighter side. I won't have anyone sending "Mu-um, can I...." "I want ....." "Where is .... "What time ....."

Ah, the peace and quiet. Yes, I think I can manage the day without my mobile ...

All is quiet here. On the western front....

Whew. Back to work. On Monday. For a holiday. To recover from the weekend. Never thought I would say that......

Father and sibling 3 arrived for the weekend. Last Thursday. A day earlier than I was expecting. But obviously I had my timing wrong. Nothing unusual about that. She was down for a surgical procedure, scheduled for Friday morning. I had that wrong too. Expecting it for Saturday.

She had to be at the hospital for 0630. With a travel time of about 3/4 of an hour to get there. Needless to say, things were a bit hectic that morning. They got away later than MOTH was expecting. But. I had to catch the bus. Haven't done that for a while. Catch the bus to the station that is, not catch a bus as a whole. I am now a seasoned public transport user. But, at any rate, they made it. Just. MOTH was still waiting for them at 1245.......

Saturday morning, the Elder had to fly north. And of course, she couldn't get to the airport herself. Mummy, please come with me?? So, $22 later for the train fare out to the airport, I saw her off. And halfway there, she realised that she didn't have her travel tablets. Sigh. $15 later and there went any saving I thought I may have made. Talking her into paying for my fare. Cause I was broke.

It was also my mother's birthday, and I didn't have a gift. What to get, what to get? Da-ad, what can I get mum for her birthday. A good book he says. Greaaatttt....... Found something after a time, with fingers crossed that she didn't already have it. There, she can have a gift and a text. That's enough from me.

Sunday, the Teen needed to get shoes. And the family were due to leave. Ok, Teen, you can come with me. Be seen in public with your mother and the old people. She did. Without too much complaint. But she was due to start work at 1400. The olds were leaving at 1100. Bit of a tight squeeze. Allowing for about 1 hour to get home by the time you count train and the drive. But she found a pair. Not the ones she originally wanted, but these would substitute. Gotta be a name brand, can't be Dunlop volleys. No sir! But we grabbed the shoes and made it back home with enough time for her to get ready and go to work. Whew.

Sunday. The Elder also sent a message to let me know that I was in trouble. I didn't phone mum for her birthday. Darn! I had to phone her after all. I love the old dear to bits. But man, I hate telephones. I am happy to use the mobile to text, but don't ask me to talk on it! Can't stand answering the phone at work either. If the phone didn't ring, I would be happy. Happier still if these people would just email me instead. I can ignore that much better......

At any rate, I phoned her. She promised to write. Some time in the next 2 years. Luv her ...

For some reason, I crashed at 1500 Sunday afternoon.......

Whoa! Missed a spot

On the way to work the other day, while in the car with MOTH, he changed the radio station. As driver, this is his privilege. That's the rule. In our car. Driver get choice, since they are the ones supposedly in charge of the vehicle. Saved a lot of arguements with the kids too.

Nowdays, the Teen just helps herself whenever he leaves the car and is foolish enough to leave her in it. Unsupervised.....

But, I digress. I realised that I had left a song off my top ten list. How could I do this?! Now I know I have many more than 10, and figuring out the top of those is a herculean task in itself for one like me, but I totally forgot about......
Keep on Movin' by Five. Ok, so I know I forgot because it's no longer, and hasn't been for many years, tres cool. But the melody is bouncy and the lyrics encouraging. And I like it.....

And that's all that counts.......

I'm tired and emotional .... no, wait .... maybe I'm not ....

Well, you know it's bad when you find yourself dancing to an add on tv. And dancing in your chair at that.

Still watching an add. An add for the local station. The one that I'm watching. Strangely enough. It's the station promo where all sorts of so-called celebrities put a comment about the station. Seriously. But there are some yummy people on that one. Ackles. Ackles I tell you. The Teen insists on another. One whose name I can't even spell. Padalecki. There. I did it.....

Caught tonight's episode of Supernatural. Whew. That was a creepy one. Ok, so the theme is mild horror. But the first appearance of the spook threw me. Actually gave me the creeps. And that isn't necessarily easy.

And only one episode of X-Files gave me the spooks too. That was Toombs. Or however it's spelled. That show really appealed to my inner geek. Before it began to loose the plot over that conspiracy nonsense.

Getting even more tired now. I suppose I should go crash. It's 10.41 or so. That's pm. And I have the rest of the week to get through. Oh, and I must be fully rested for Thursday night.

So, is it Thursday yet???

Motherhood: Or the joy of virtual children

Well, the Teen was wiped this morning. Absolutely bombed. Motherhood. Aint it a blast.

She has chosen, for one of her electives at school a subject that is somewhat similar to the Home Economics and Mothercare subjects I had when at school. You know the type of thing. Except although this one deals with nutrition and diet, I don't think she actually cooks anything. That, my friends, is the province of Hospitality....

So, at any rate, as part of their assessment, they bring home a baby for the night. Not a real one. A virtual one. Just as well. I'm past that baby stage stuff, and if it were real, I'd hate to think of the consequences! But, this is designed to get the kids to think carefully about being a parent. Before they are really ready. This baby looks like a doll. One of those Baby Born things. They have to bring it home in a car. In a baby capsule. There is a boy. There is a girl. But, baby doesn't wet, and you don't have to feed it. You have to be careful to give the head appropriate support. But it does CRY. Randomly. Any time. Day or night. Ack! MOTH was not impressed at the thought.

But, cry it did. It was crying when I got home from work. I don't know when it started, but it kept going, despite Teen's best efforts for about 15 minutes. She has a key 'chained' to her wrist she must use when it cries. Insert key, turn key. Crying stops. Or not. The computer inside records crying and response times etc.

So, she tells me this morning that she has failed this assessment. Apparently kids who aren't allowed to have the baby have another form of assessment. She wants to do this one. She has failed. Failed! Baby - she named it Helena - cried for half hour at 1.30am ...... She removed the batteries.

If only it really were that easy........

The joy of Friday. Or a lament that it's only Tues...

What a depressing thought. Today feels like it's Friday (yay). Instead it turns out to be Tuesday.


I did, however, manage to get with the girls for a lunch. Long overdue I might add. They are always good for a laugh. And remind me that it' s good to be a member of the sistahood. Oh, and by the way woman, where is my address list for those shops? You promised!!

My books finally arrived from Amazon. I am soooo happy. Now I have something different to do this weekend. If I can muster the enthusiasm. I noted, while trying out some Manga stuff, that all my calligraphy nibs seem to have left home. Just packed up and moved out. Which is a major inconvenience. These were given to someone who gave them to MOTH so they didn't cost me anything. And, now, I have found out that to replace just one nib is going to cost as much as $5. Sigh. I don't seem to do anything by halves.

And I still haven't found those comics that I lost. Or rather put somewhere safe........

It's O-week here at campus. For the - luckily - uninitiated, that's Orientation Week. It's the party week before the students take over the campus for the semester. And the buses. So there goes the neighbourhood, and you can't move unless you are dodging the rampant youth of the nation. So far, being only Tuesday and all, apart from one noticeably noisy episode, they seem to be rather well behaved. I recall one year seeing them roam wild in all sorts of weird get up. In groups. With different costumes for each group. Rather like an anthropological study of tribes. But tomorrow is Wednesday. Super-weak Market Day. When you rub shoulders with the students in the name of getting your hands on a freebie. Nothing like it......

It's raining men. Or water. Which is better.

At about 2am this morning, while trying to run a scan (WHAT!! What do you mean "experiencing problems" and have to close??? You CAN'T dothistome!!!) during a night that held the promise of another restless one, it rained. So brief that I blinked and thought I'd been dreaming. But it made me think of how the weather makes me feel. But now, several hours later in the cold, uncompromising light of day, I am not sure that I shall be as articulate as I was last night, when the probablity was high that I could have been capable of running off at the mouth. Mentally.

I love the sound of rain at night. It makes me want to snuggle up in bed. Hmmmm warm, snug, safe. During the day, provided I don't actually have to venture out in the stuff, I like to curl up in bed with a good book.

I hate summer and the humidity. It gives me headaches, makes me lethargic and highly combustible. It's good to avoid me during summer.

Winter. It slows me down, makes me torpid. Wish I could hibernate. Gives me headaches. I'm prone to depression. I think I spend most of my time saying Huh? I don' get it?

But spring and autumn. Ah..... A beautiful clear day. An almost cloudless sky. The breeze lifts my hair and the spirits soar. Those days I could climb Everest. Breathe deep, chest expands. I feel light as air. Nothing pulls me down, all is right with the world and I love you all.

The power of a summer storm. In the evening. Before the rain starts to fall in earnest and I must flee indoors. The wind lifts me and carries me away, sweeping all before me. I lean into the wind, smell the impending rain, watch the ligtning split the sky and wish I were able to morph into something sleek, silent and powerful. Gliding through the silken cover of the darkness, face to the wind. Sliding past pools of light cast carelessly from the windows of the fools indoors who cannot feel the power of the night..........

St Valentines Day. Or not.

As you may have guessed, today is St Valentines Day. Not that I ever bother to observe it beyond thinking, sometimes several days before, A box of chocolates would be nice. But then, a box of chocolates are welcome anytime. A friend had to remind me what day it was. Today, I went off to work and didn't wish MOTH a happy val's day. Hope he knows I meant it anyway.

Didn't feel like doing much for lunch today. You know, you've reached the end of the fortnight, the cupboard is getting bare so you go for something basic, easy and downright non-nutritional. So, today's menu is an apple, melting moments biscuits and a jam sandwich. Just like Old Poss.

Which brought to mind a program I used to enjoy as a teen. Ok, so it was geared for kids, but I liked it just the same. Hosted by x-Sky Hooks frontman, Shirley. And a bloke in a walloping great kangaroo suit, called Norm. No, the suit was called Norm. We had no idea who was inside it. And featuring an odd assortment of animal puppet sidekicks. Including Old Poss. A possum who loved jam sandwiches. Shirl taught me to appreciate Aussie Rules. And, of course, I followed Hawthorn. Not to any great depth, but hey! They were the top team back then. I loved his down to earth attitude - "I don't care if she's the queen. She'll still have some of these about" (toilet rolls) for instance. But of course, my favourite was Claude the Crow. A big black bird with a whole lot of mean. Sigh, miss you Shirl.......

Music that makes me go Hmm, Yeah!

Well, it's 5am on a Monday. Sad, isn't it. But while trying to escape MOTH's rather musical rendition of sleeping, I started thinking about My Top Ten Feel Good Songs. And came up with the list. Now I think about it, these are rather more songs that elicit some feeling. Rather than *nods* yeah, I like that.....

10. The Unforgiven - Metallica (There's just something about it)
9. Paco Doesn't Love Me - The Spazzys (Even the band name is bouncy)
8. Almost Unreal - Roxette (Probably not cool, but what the heck. This is my list)
7. I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance
6. House of Wolves - My Chemical Romance
5. Wonderful Life - Black (The original of course. How can a song about depression and loneliness be set to a dance beat???)
4. Hung Up - Madonna
3. My Girl - The Temptations
2. Happy Talk - Captain Sensible
1. You're Beautiful - Little Birdy

..........

In which I admire, desire and otherwise covet.....

Ah, a chance to rest. To put the feet up. Figuratively speaking of course. Today. Yes, today. The annual Motor Show. An absolute wonder of gleaming metal and horsepower, shot through with a healthy dose of testosterone.......




Or not! MOTH can't tell me though if it does 40 kph or 30 kms, or 30 kph for 40 kms.......






A girl could feel special - have now walked the red carpet!




Feel the lotus. Live the lotus. Drive the Lotus!

Wonder what I could do with Proton???

No, wait! The Formula 1 might get me to work....

Ahhhh, no this is the one.

Don't imagine I would have it long though. The boys in blue might be chasing me for a donation.

Cars. Wonderful invention. Don't know what I'd do without one. Wear out a couple pairs of shoes. Trying to get to this show. Every year. Course, I only do it for the MOTH......

A blah day, where I get to moan. And think about slinkies.

Been a bit of a while since I last graced these pages with a bland mixture of social comment and whinging. And, as I sit at my desk and ponder the non-excitement of my life while the body vacuums up the caffeine it has just ingested, will today be any different?

Whew. Second session at Pilates mat class since early December. I am beginning to remember muscles I never knew I had. Especially as I am asked to move them in ways I am sure nature never intended. My nature, anyway. Ok, so I did notice, before 'summer break' that I was actually developing biceps. Which is a bit of a miracle. For me. I don't think I even had those when I was a kid. Now, if I can just get the same thing happening for those 'canteen lady' arms I am forced to work with.....

Ah. Slinkies. I remember the hours, well minutes, of fun I had with those as a kid. Pushing them down the back stairs. Watching them fall through the steps. Into the dirt. Because they never seemed to make it to the next stair. Back when slinkies were actually metal. Not this cheapo plastic stuff they pass off as slinkies these days. And trying to sort out the tangles. They always managed to get into some sort of rubic's puzzle which could never be sorted. After days of trying. And finally crying "Da-ad!" So. Here's to slinkies --

"Some people are like Slinkies. Not really good for anything but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs."

-- Don't know who said that. But I like it........

A tribute to the Older Woman. At last!

Ok, so it's not new. But being over 30 and headed for a birthday, I thought I would give myself an ego boost, mega-trip or what ever. Just because I can. And I want to. So there. And just for spice - it is the variety of life y'know - I've added my thoughts. Because I can. And I want to. So there.

This was written by Andy Rooney from CBS 60 Minutes. So they say. It's done it's fair share of the email rounds.

Andy Rooney says......:

As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think. If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting. (Heck yes)

A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 30 care what you might think about her or what she's doing. (True)

Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.. Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated. (Ok, but jumping in puddles doesn't necessarily class as 'dignified')

A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. (Or other women with her man?)

Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her. (Honey, no man is worth the destruction of a good friendship)

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know. (We've been there?)

A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women. (Nor I, I confess)

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart. (I and my wrinkles thank you)

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her. (Yes, usually every 28 days)

Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress. (Poor waitress. How embarrassment)

Ladies, I apologize for all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free". Here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage, why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage!!!

TG for POETS Day

Well, it's Friday. And I can't wait to get out of here. Fair enough to say I am at work. Doing worky things. Or at least I was. Very slack worky things though. Organising for a conference, so I just have to take time to view a vid of a proposed speaker. Have to make sure he makes the grade. And check out some samples of collateral. Got to make sure they are up to standard too. Ah, sometimes I love this job. Since I have been flat out, busily inspecting this stuff, I think it's time to pull up a chair, put up the feet and ruminate about what I can possibly put in my blog today. I'm learning to type with the keyboard on my lap...

I read another blog which lurks around the blogger site. As in read, present tense. Regularly. Religiously even. It gives me something to look forward to in the morning. When they contribute that is. Which is most days. It always makes me smile, but today one paragraph was so funny, I cacked out loud. Which elicited a quick check to make sure that no one was lurking in the immediate vicinity. Wondering who let the chooks loose. But no, I was quite alone and therefore safe.

But, back to the title, it's Friday. And I can't wait to get out of here. Because, as you may have guessed, tomorrow is Saturday. And I am still currently Teen-less. It has, oddly enough, been a very quiet week. MOTH has been at a loose end. No one to argue with. Not as much washing. As for the social front, well, as stated previously, compared to my life, Eleanor Rigby's was a mad, mad whirl. But I do have an invitation this weekend. Themed. Wigs and silly hats. Can't we just make do with rapier wit and sparkling conversation???

Diet and Exercise are dirty words.....

Agh, I swore. I had better wash my mouth out with chocolate.....

Decided to take a little time out for myself this morning. I always get a smile - the back of the door has a little advert for a counselling service on campus. To talk about a difficult relationship with food. Heck yes! It's stalking me! It won't leave me alone! It's everywhere I look! And darn, I can't live without it! Is that difficult?

I have succumbed. To the food yes. She says, wiping the grease from her fingers after tucking into the chips. Or crisps if you prefer. But I have been thinking about seriously trying to lose weight. Thinking. Difficult concept for me. The Dr last year told me to consider a low GI diet. I'm still considering.......

Tennis anyone? Or how to have a good time at the match...

Looking at the news last night, I thought they were talking about soccer. You know. The 'hooligans'. The ones who seem to think a match just isn't a match without a good no holds barred riot and more blood letting than a gathering of emo's. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was tennis. At the Australian Open. And not just any bunch of no-hopers, but Serbs and Croats. Now I know they don't exactly like each other, but WTF? It's Australia. We don't give a toss about their little feud. Certainly not at one of our more prestigious sporting events. And if these people were supposed to be Australian residents, then shame, shame, shame. Uh, oh. Beginning to sound like a certain tv/radio show host who has long since fallen from grace ... or an old age pensioner .... ....

And while I am ranting - and trying to avoid work to boot - what about that cowardly animal who attacked and robbed that wheelchair bound woman? In her home? WTF was that all about?

PS ... To Sir, With Love

Whoops. Have just realised that the name I picked for one of my characters is female and is of german extraction. Considering this was for a male, that could be tricky. Might have to modify it with an apostrophe or something...... I liked the sound of it.

So, skinny or rich?

One of the local stations has a phone in. Every morning. Usually while I am on the way to work. Considerate of them, isn't it. I am not sure what kicked it off this morning, but the eventual topic was if you could choose, which would it be. Skinny, or rich. For me, this would be a no-brainer, but it seemed that some of the girls thought otherwise. Ooohhhh, part of me says I want to be skinny, and part of me says I want to be rich. I don't know what the out come was, I arrived before it ended. The fellas on the 'panel' thought Rich. How could there be any other choice? And for me, I'm right there with 'em.

I mean, I'm not young any more. I've had a couple of kids. Things are no longer where they used to be. And I figure, they aren't likely to ever get back that way in a hurry. Unless I kill myself at the gym to lose a little, and nature sure as heck isn't going to stand by and let me get away with that. So, if I'm rich, I can buy a gym membership and a fitness guru to totally ignore. I would much rather pay attention to my hairdresser, my stylist and my wardrobe mistress. Oh, and the dentist and the beauty consultant. Tell you, they would have to earn their money. But if you're rich, you can get away with a lot. Skinny chick couldn't afford that. And I could spend the rest of my life looking like a million dollars. And rich. Did I mention rich?

Where did that weekend go?

Wow, can't believe the weekend is nearly over all ready. Well, actually I can. Things just seem to be going faster each year. Here we are, nearly half way through January. 2007. I had better not blink or 2008 will be here.

I wrote earlier that the Teen was going to be starting a new job. Or did I? I thought I had, and if not, too bad. Old Timers does that kind of thing to a person. I was beginning to think that they would never give her a start. It seems that the outgoing manager hired on, and the incoming manager did too. And neither bothered to tell the other. She was finally contacted yesterday though and told she starts tomorrow. I think she's nervous.....

That does kind of put a bit of a dent in her plans. She was going to be doing the swap thing staying at a friend's place for a week. Mind, I think by the end of this week they were a bit sick of each other. Suspected that might happen, but you can't tell them..... Which means, basically, that the second Teen is now back to her usual abode and things are beginning to return to normal here. Or as normal as they get.

Been checking out that brushing up on drawing skills I set myself. Lucky that wasn't a new year resolution. I wanted a book that would give me some basics. Sure, the web works, but printing out the info isn't easy. Hmmm. Didn't think it would be that difficult to find a book! Unless I order it on line. Long live the web!

Don't you hate it when you put something away in a safe place? You know the type. A safe place where you won't lose it and it won't get damaged. Old Timers has come to visit again, and now I can't find it. Actually, it's more a 'them'. How do you lose a collection of comics? Ok, so as a collection it's pretty motley, but it's still mine. And I still like to read them. Wonder where the heck they are??? Knowing the way things work for me, I'll find them again ..... in about 6 months time when I have lost something else ....

Memo to me....

Well, another day. Nothing exciting happening on the SOL horizon. Things have been quiet with MOTH and the 2 Teens. Although he did phone me at work to specifically tell me that he had managed to escape the house without them. Isn't that sweet. He loves to keep me up to date.

The Elder is home today, so I imagine that when I get home, MOTH will regale me with tales of woe, and the Teen will also do the same - because she can't get access to the computer....

Memo to me ... brush up on my cartooning skills. I have 2 characters, Winter and Dagmar. Do I try to draw them in the style of the graphic novels, or go for a manga look? I know what they should look like, but I think manga could mean that Dagmar begins to look a little too much like Tuxedo Mask for comfort.......

Just another day in Paradise... ah, if only

I have a sensitive mouse. Yes, it gets hurt very easily. I move the mouse, the pointer moves. Sounds pretty basic. But try getting the mouse too close to the keyboard and that's another matter. It clicks. Yes, a touch of the corner of the keyboard on the mouse button and next thing I know, I am somewhere I never expected to be....

Well, summer is here. Finally. Not that I am happy about that. The weather had been particularly mild, remembering of course that Christmas in Oz falls in summer. If I bother to take notice, seems that everywhere is having strange weather. Somewhere down south had snow. In summer. Global warming. Go figure.

Going to be a fun week in the house this week. I have a second Teen in the house for a week. One of the Teen's besties. At least for now. We'll see when they get to spend even more time together, jostling for position in the bathroom and priority in the phone queue. Although, each of them does have a mobile of their own. And sharing a room for a week when they normally have their own space. Heck, this could be like Big Brother. But more interesting.

And a merry 2007 to you too......

Wow, 2007.

....AAAGGGGHHHH!.... Totally auspicious beginning to 2007. Stupid computer froze, and now I have to try rewrite this tome ... ... ...

Well, I survived Christmas. It is over, gone, past. The tree is still standing and the deckkies are still on the windows. The food is gone and the leftovers tossed. All I have to do now is get myself motivated to organise a cleanup detail to get rid of the rest of the evidence.

New Year happened just as I predicted. Heck yes, I'm good. I went to bed at a decent human hour - ok, so I crashed at 9.30pm. New Year is just another day - only to be woken by the rowdies down the way at 11.59pm. Counting in the new year, yay for them. Yelling, blowing some horn thing. Yelling some more. Brilliant. And when I woke again at 2.25am, they were still at it. I was thinking that someone really needed to have that horn thing shoved where the sun don't shine. And then off to sleep again. Nope, not much keeps me awake. Discussing it with MOTH this morning, he suggested surprise that I hadn't commented that somone with the horn should have been walking funny ... I think we have been spending too much time together ...

I did manage to get together some christmas music for my enjoyment at work on Christmas Eve. However, there was only 1 of the GT in the immediate vicinity to overhear, and since he was the one requested I play it over and ramp the volume, I didn't really end up annoying anyone. And he had the audacity to giggle at the song I included specifically for him. Bit of a let down.... but I still enjoyed the music in our normally sound sterile work atmosphere.

As for Ms A-nonny-mouse, it's not a matter of where my taste went. You should know me well enough by now. It was more a question of what I could find for my own little anti-christmas. =]

But now we are into the new year, and I am just waiting for the Easter Crass Commercialism stuff to begin. At least the payoff is chocolate.......

The Last Bastion of Manliness and Merry Xmas to Me....

But not necessarily in that order.....

Ok, so I give up. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. As someone famous once said. Well, I guess they did. Someone got that expression from somewhere. The presents are wrapped and under the tree, which btw, is the first thing you see when you enter the house. Ok, so it would be if I could get MOTH and the Teen to use the front door. But, as I was saying, they are under the tree. Brightly coloured and hidden in plain sight. It's done this way to give the Teen one less reason to go riffling through my cupboards. It means though that we have to put up with the constant "are we there yet?" questions from both Teen and the Elder. The scarey part is it's beginning to rub off on me. Yes, I am losing my curmedgeon-like Bah Humbuginess and beginning to hear the lure of the wrapping and the gifts. Calling, whispering, beckoning, shifting, moving ....... "come on now, you know you want to. There's a good kiddie, quickly now, take a peek, no one is looking and I won't tell. Come on now .... just a little bit closer ...... that's right ...... ha! Gotcher!" I buckled. I succumbed. ..... I peeked ..... Well, just one. A voucher. I opened the envelope and looked. A mental 'naughty, naughty, naughty' at myself and returned it to the envelope. But like a junkie or something, I returned to the scene of the crime and completed the job. I looked at the amount. And put it back under the tree. Later in the week I had the opportunity to indulge in regret and guilt.... hmmm would you believe a tiny amount of regret? ... when I realised that this was the second gift mother bought me after she told me what the first was. After she thought she had given me something I wouldn't like. ... Sorry mum ...

Did I mention something in the title about manliness? Yes. Yes I did. Well apparently a "men's business club" here has voted against granting women full membership. That's right. We can join as associate members, but can't join in our own right. This, I read, is the fourth vote-down in the last 2 years. Seems to be an issue that splits the members themselves, and of course we have the requisite number of whining women who want to become members. Well, ever wondered why they call them members? You gotta have one to be one. But since women can still swan around the dining rooms and still be seen by all the right people - this place requires a $1100 joining fee - I really can't see what the problem is. So you can't sit on the committee. Whoop-de-doo. If you have the ear of one of the members, you can still brow beat him into submission. I really think this could just be a case of wanting something just because we can't have it...... And let's face it, if there is a place where you can shepherd him off for exclusive baby sitting to play with his manly men men friends while you go max his card, then long live the all male bastion I say!

Why can't I find that music? An ode to online downloads

Ok, so I am after a particular song. Nothing special, but perhaps it might be a little obscure. Possibly. My Chemical Romance. All I Want for Christmas Is You. Nothing too difficult, right? Wrong.

It's getting on to Christmas. I thought I might try curb the Bah! Humbug! gag reflex by composing my own CD of lovely little Christmas songs. To play at work. Just for myself. And anyone else unfortunate enough to be in the immediate vicinity. Wonderful things, like the above work, contributions by Elmo & Patsy and Weird Al.

But after about 3 or more days of Googling, Yahooing, Asking and begging, Christmas songs are thin on the ground. And try finding a download site that doesn't charge the earth, or a free one that doesn't file share. I thought I might have been on to a winner - Sony Music Store - but no! I live outside the US. The Teen had a favourite, but has been unable to renew her credit. Most unhappy and disgruntled has she been. Time to duck for cover.

So in an effort to find something, I have been forced to create myself a profile on myspace. Yup. Finally succumbed. Maybe there is something on music there. Yeah, right. Like when The Gods Must Be Crazy sees a rise in popularity and resurrects it's status from cult to mainstream....

For holidays that are waaaay too short

Just reading back over that plather that serves for a journal, I notice that it's been a while since I last posted. I could ask where the time has gone, but it could have just passed me by while I have been lurking on the dark side of the moon.

I have been on holidays and for a week at least of that, there has been no access to a computer. None. If it were possible, there may have been a trace of the DDT's for a while there.

Not that I'm a net-a-holic or such, but when you have no choice, things begin to get grim. I had to resort to rummaging through bookshelves for something to entertain myself with. It would have been nice to reacquaint myself with some of my favourites, but that would have involved waay too much effort. They are buried at the back of the shelves behind the romances and I was supposed to be on holiday after all.

The first week was spent doing as little as possible. Didn't want to make those days go too quickly. And it worked. The first week dragged. But then, the Elder requested that I 'help' her visit my folks. Who happen to live about an 8 hour drive away. Spending a week in that house always has appeal, but boy doesn't that wear off quick when you actually get there. Cats, bird and people rule what little space is to be had. And ... no computer.

Still, I managed to last the week, overdosed on the Teen's current obsession - My Chemical Romance, fought with the niece and nephew, ignored the siblings, got tasted by the birds, and bled by the cat. But best of all ... ... ... I managed to dutifully annoy my mother AND miss the Christmas rush when the rest of the relatives arrive ... ...

To the celebration of Firsts.....

Been a while since I last blogged it seems. I am getting somewhat slack. And for a person as verbose as I, that's no small thing. Mayhap the year is drawing to a close and I am running out of my yearly word quota..... A first on it's own.

I was keeping a journal at home as well. Just a small one. To chronicle my first brush with a broken bone. Assuming I live the expected age span, I have made it through about half my life without ever having done anything energetic enough to break anything. And eventually, there was nothing energetic about the event, just a fall after getting off a bus, but boy, did I make a public spectacle of myself. Dunno if that was a first though.... However, I digress, the Teen asked me to make another entry last night. First one since August.

But today is a momentous one. The Teen is about to have her first ....... job interview! Ah, so grown up. And I feel so old. But because I am working - wotta drag - I can't be there to hold her hand like my mother did for me (Mu-um!) Actually that could be a good thing - I don't recall answering many of the questions, mum did it all for me. Mind, a healthy dose of the 'who-you-knows' went into that one.

But good luck Teen. You'll be fine. Just remember that if this one doesn't work out, there is always something better around the corner.

My environment......

Woot! A new camera. A photo study of where I live and work. My environment........

To which I say Bah Humbug! And give thanks to the muppets...

Well, I notice that it's now November, I have barely recovered from Easter, and the Christmas dekkies have made an appearance in the shops. Now I don't know if it's just me, but they seem to come, suddenly popping out from behind the Halloween toys and sweets and announcing loudly in glittering colours of green, red and gold, that hey! extract that digit 'cause there are only 'blah' shopping days left until the Teen gets to rip the paper off, curl her nose up because it's not the latest Louis Vuitton accessory and toss it in the corner sometime between opening and New Year's Day.

Not that I'm cynical or anything. I mean, I just love standing around in the heat with the rest of the family, watching the tempers fray, listening to the nieces and nephews fight over possession of each other's gifts, and tuck into handfuls of wilted lettuce and melted chocolate. Not in the same bowl, of course. And since they are teetotallers, not even a decent beer to help wash it down.

Seems to me that once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away I did enjoy the Christmas spirit. But I was young and foolish then, and I didn't have to do much beyond trimming the tree and tearing the paper off the presents. Heck, I didn't even have to clean up the leftover wrapping. Dad used to put the Santa hat on, we'd all sit around and wait with baited breath while he - very slowly I might add - handed out each individual gift. Oddly enough, it's still a Family Tradition and the Teen and the Elder still enjoy it. Now I spend my time wrestling the tree out of the box and attempting to assemble it, worrying that we have enough food in the house, preparing food and clean up the paper leftovers. Put my gifts to one side so I can make the anticipation last, cause after they have laid themselves bare to my gaze, it's just another day. Oh, and after New Year, wrestle the tree back into the box and clean up the bits of tinsel that have fallen off the decorations.

But maybe this year will be different. Just the 3 of us. Hang on, maybe 4. I'll get my hands on Tim Burton's A Nightmare Before Christmas, and A Muppet Christmas Carol. Hang lights on the window and forget the tree. Let them eat chocolate for the day! And no opening presents until after lunch! Heck eat lunch all day! (See statement re chocolate) Stock in some alcohol. Run a repeat of the muppet movie and blast myself icy with the airconditioning - which I have this year.

Yes! Roll on Christmas......

The Woman

She walks down the road, carefully lifting and placing one foot in front of the other. Long blonde hair, once luxurious now streaked with silver and tarnish. Her lipstick is a vivid red slash against the paleness of her face. Sunglasses, square and dark obscure her eyes. The corner of a brown jacket slaps against her thigh in the wind. She leans forward as she moves, pushing against an unseen foe.

I sit, safe from the bite of the wind, in the car and watch as she moves past. Where is she going? What marvels, sorrows and joys have passed through her life? What tales could she tell if I were to ask?

Perhaps she is alone, a once loved husband lost through the mists of time. A love so grand, that once lost, could never be replaced? Is this a slow, lonely journey to the supermarket to purchase those small portions that speak of a solitary life?

How fondly does she look back on the special moments of her life - her first dance, her first kiss, the blush of a bride on that magical day?

Children of her own, and grandchildren. A house filled with love and joyous laughter. Treats must be bought, a dinner planned.

Man’s modern marvels, to celebrate our inventiveness – radio, television, a man on the moon.

Ah, what tales could she tell if I were to ask?

To recalcitrant plumbing ... and maybe other things

Third start - think I should give up. Was thinking about sink traps the other day. What the heck are they good for anyway? Thank heaven for Google. I found out. The water stops the nasty gas breaking into your home through the pipes. Hmm reminds me of some very spooky episodes of X Files. What I haven't figured out is why the trapped water smells so much. MOTH has to keep putting cleaner through the pipes to stop the smell. Something I have only noticed in the low set houses I have lived in. The ones built with a cement slab for foundations. How come it does that? Google hasn't answered that one.....

TGIF and the learning of obfuscation.......

It's finally the end of another week. And it hasn't come too soon really. Time has flown, I've accomplished nothing and missed my walk. Alright, so it's only the morning gone, but still. It's the principal of the thing.

Ever noticed how you think you're alone. The opportunity arises to indulge in a little bad behaviour, then suddenly you aren't as alone as you think. It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.... ok, so it was a work colleague. Went to ask him a question, but was warned off. Trouser cough. He'd just decided he was fine, and I walked around the corner. Whew. Mind, I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, so didn't have the chance to succumb to the effects of the gas. Or maybe it was laughing gas......

Obfuscate: to confuse, bewilder, stupify. To make so unclear as to be difficult to understand.

Been having a running battle with an outside agency about exactly what paperwork she needs to process a reimbursement of travel expenses. She and one of the GT have been debating for a while. The GT candidate - hereby referred to as J - has been having a running arguement about tickets v boarding passes. Although they seem to be talking about the same thing. Who knows. They don't. In the World According to J, she would be told that the Uni is ISO(blah) certified and we need to store the original here for an x amount of time and so we need the orignals here and we can't send the originals over there because we need them for audit purposes too you know and haven't you asked for the originals of the things we sent you and now you want the tickets because the originals of what we sent you you decided weren't what you wanted and we sent them to you yesterday before we got the email and now we have to send them again and so we sent you an email to let you know that we are sending to you originals of what you were supposed to be asking for and confusing us about and .......... I think you get the idea .........

Where I talk about nothing much and waste time...

Arrived at work today and wondered why I was here. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the breeze is blowing and...... hold on. Why am I rambling?

Actually, it is a beautiful day and I am stuck inside, at my desk, while I wait for the troops to gather for a meeting. Ok, today the troops number the massive total of 4, but it's still enough to go ahead. Maybe if I grab the chocolate and dive under the desk they won't notice I'm missing? If surviving on a couple choc bars worked for that Scott fella, then I reckon I can last the whole year on the block I've got. Ha! Ha ha. Now there's a thought......

Went out briefly for a walk this morning. It breaks the monotony of the sit at desk stuff. Too many students though. Doesn't matter if my place of employment is situated on a University campus - it would still be a much better place without them. Saw a bride and groom being snapped against a building. Sandstone background and columns. Nice. Briefly distracted on the way back to the office by the sound of drums and sticks. Turned out to be an Islander dance troup so had to watch. Don't want to get back to work too early.

Nearly meeting time. Back to the chocolate methinks.......

In which I learn about Hallowe'en and other stuff

It's Friday afternoon. I'm hanging out for the end of the day which really can't arrive soon enough. Another inmate in the asylum lets out an hysterical giggle after reading one of those mortuary jokes. You know the ones, so old and lame they're technically dead. Turns out it's a 'horror' joke. About a week or so too early for Halloween. So my x-Canadian friend assures me that Halloween has a lead up. But as someone who doesn't do Halloween, what's it all about? Apparently it's all about All Hallow's Eve and witches going out to catch children. That's why they dress up as ghouls and ghosts. To foil the witches. There you go. That's what it's all about.

In an effort to appear busy, I'm knee deep in the latest news items on the abc site. A robber who held up a service station while brandishing a sword was nicked when he went back to the place he'd just held up. He forgot to take his haul with him. You can tell it's Friday. Armed robbery, brain optional.

Of course, that's to discract myself from plots and schemes of world domination. In my world, it would all run smoothly. Because I want it to. Waiting for someone to deliver a promised thingo from another time zone is kinda wearing. Especially if it doesn't turn up. But during that distraction, MOTH phones buzzing with excitement. There is a bushfire across the road. A big one, they've brought in the choppers that carry water. Well, actually it's across the road, down the way, around the corner and across the highway. But that's all semantics when it's close. And the only thing you have to keep you occupied is Neighbourhood Watch. And watching those neighbours.....

For manual madness......

Well, it's 2.26pm on Wednesday. In an effort to keep myself awake - work will just not do it - I decided to check the news breaks. Found a wonderful story about a young woman who attempted a carjacking, but was foiled because the car was a manual! Hmmm. Why would you bother attempting a carjacking if you can't drive both manual and auto? Didn't Forrest say that life's like a box of chocolates? You never know what you're going to get. Same could be said for carjacking it seems.

- So I'm sitting here at my desk, looking out the window watching the beautiful sunny afternoon slip away. Reminds me of my public service days. Why don't public servants look out the window in the morning? Because then they would have nothing to do in the afternoon.

- Still going with the steps challenge thing. But I am beginning to wonder why I bother. One of the teams is waaayyy out in front. Uber-competitive. Last week they set themselves a target. Break the 1,000,000 step mark. They did it too. But I have a life. Couldn't possibly do something like that. Reeks of exercise. Oo, now there's a dirty word. Time to rinse my mouth out with chocolate.

Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?

....... Now what was I doing?

bicycles, buses and other unassociated random stuff

As a regular user of public transport my day usually begins with a mad dash round the house to make sure I am ready before the supersonic dash down the highway to the station. Fighting the other wallies in the same situation for a stopping space in the drop off zone before everyone takes off at the same time, making the sprint for the exit to beat the traffic.

Just a regular, normal day.

Once I leave the train and grab a passing bus, I can zone till it's time to pretend enthusiasm for the day and head to the office. No zoning today - I think our driver had the Indy on his mind. Racing down the straights, weaving through the traffic. Bouncing off the kerb. I sit in the back row and doesn't that knock your bones about. Pulling into a stop and banging the back corner of the bus against the power pole on takeoff. Kissing the back of the seat before me because a taxi in front had the hide to stop. A cyclist, head down bum up, racing for all his worth, like a hare with a fox on its tail while the bus did its level best to run him down. Or pass, whatever. By the time I got to work the adrenaline rush was over and I was ready to go home.

And on the subject of bicyles, lately I notice that I seem to be stalked by the things. Creeping about in my peripheral vision. Through the pedestrian walkway in front of my work building. In the subway tunnel at the station. I never know whether to go left or right and just feel like sticking a stick through their spokes. Blighters. I hate the things. Fell off one once and never felt the same way about them.

Course you know I was cheering for the bus...

Incoherent ramblings which mean nothing much....

Here it is, Friday lunch time, and my Get Up n Go has got up and left. And had a party on the way out I suspect. Love Friday. It's my unofficial start to the weekend. Time to start winding down. Think most of my Friday is spent trying to avoid starting anything that remotely resembles work.

Not that there is anything much to look forward to. Except a healthy dose of 'me' time. That is, time when I vege on the couch with my nose stuck in a book. Love those books. Doing nothing and ignoring the MOTH (Man of the House) and the Teen. Pretending they don't exist and there is no such thing as cooking dinner, housework or any of those things that modern civilization throws in to keep us in a constant state of misery. Like Reality TV.

Even the telly viewing sucks. But maybe I should withdraw that until I have actually checked the tv guide. Ok, so there is usually nothing to watch. Sometimes I torture myself and watch the Johanna Griggs Show. A homestyle wotsit DIY type things. What do they call them? Oh yes, lifestyle shows. It's really called something else, but this woman shows up on all the segments. Saturday is the day. I love Monk. I can do with a healthy dose of quirk. It does require that you suspend disbelief and pretend there really is a plot. But it means I don't have to think, just laugh. Occasionally. And I need that.....

Maybe I will start a new book. I only have 9 books on the shelf, on the lounge, on the floor that I have either not yet started or not yet completed. It's good for the brain to have more than one book on the go at once. Keeping track of the plots and characters without losing the thread is a heady exercise that is sure to keep dementia at bay. At least I am hoping so. The signs are not looking good.......

Whoops here we go again

Just been surfing and noticed, in an out of the way place, a little Vote Now tag. For Australian Idol. Should a judge be sacked for making a comment that offended people with disabilities. Uh oh, here we go with the PC stuff again.

So, a judge on a no-account-who-the-heck-cares-it's-a-waste-of-air-time-reality-show makes a comment about something that the contestant is wearing. It would seem, from the bits that the Teen has inflicted on our household, that standard format is for a judge who deliberately sets out to cause controversy. Well, congrats Kyle, you have managed to do that with every ep. As they say, any press is good press and if it boosts the ratings all the better.

But, look out, we've offended a minority group - again. Gotta watch that. Ok, so I don't necessarily fit into that group myself, but I do have my blonde moments - careful! - and my mouth runs away without my brain sometimes, but what the heck. How boring would it be if everyone toed the line all the time. Think I'd like to check out of a world like that real pronto - I just wouldn't fit in....

A Whitlam's nest

So, an ex-pollie's wife expresses an opinion about the current PM's wife. Big deal.

Some of us, when we reach a particular age or stage - usually when we wake up to the fact that we can't please anyone most of the time and only what Number 1 thinks is important - quite freely express our opinions about people, objects, circumstances, the state of the world.....

Let her tell how she feels. Get it published in a book. Better still, get a blog. Long live the curmudgeon!

Getting old

So another one of those annoying emails arrived at my inbox yesterday. You know the ones - pass this on, you've just been hugged, you know you're getting old when..... Usually I delete them and pretend they never existed - still waiting for karma give me a good solid boot for that - and move on.

I have seen this one before, but I really do like it. It reminds me how stupidly paranoid and PC we are becoming. For me, PC is something that sits on my desk and has no other connotation. F'rinstance the mail makes a statement along the lines of mum defrosting the meat on the kitchen sink, taking sandwiches to school, wrapped in wax paper and put in a brown paper bag - you could always tell the rich kids, theirs was wrapped in rainbow coloured paper - not a coldpack, and no recollection of anyone getting ecoli. Yes! AND we used to swap lunches if you didn't like what your mum had packed that day. Did that many a time.

We said prayers and sung the National Anthem, were force fed free milk at morning tea - ugh, hated that bit cause sometimes the milk was warm - oh, and didn't like having to wash out the bottles in an aluminium garbage can - and getting detention was uber uncool. (There, Teen, I said it!)

We played in the vacant lot, doing stupid things on a pile of gravel left by a construction company and when we got hurt we went to mum for a bandaid, a hug and a 'get back out there'. Now, it's off to the dr, a course of antibiotics and mum phones the solicitor to sue the pants off the company for leaving the gravel there.

You were too scared to play up at your mate's place. You'd get your butt smacked there, and a double dose of trouble when you got home! If your mate hurt themselves doing something stupid, they'd get a swat from their mum for being a yobbo. These days she could own your house.

Ah, fond memories of growing up with a sense of freedom denied in today's world. They were the good old days. Blimmin' heck! I'm beginning to sound like my grandmother........ !

Wedding with a difference

I was fortunate enough to attend a friend's wedding on the weekend. A very cozy affair.

An operatic recital with vows thrown in for good measure. Poetry readings, an extract from a novel - Captain Corelli's Mandolin - an oboe soloist, baritone and soprano singers. All magic to the ears.

But the grand lady of the event was the pipe organ. Certainly a beautiful instrument, allowed to flex her chords both as an introduction to the ceremony and during a solo performance or two.

A wedding with a format not usually encountered, but knowing the groom I shouldn't have been surprised. Well done everyone. Loved every minute of it.

Stepping it up

I am currently competing - well, maybe that's too strong a word - participating in a 'World Walking Challenge'. Run by a section of Human Movement Studies at one of our local Universities. Pretty much a subversive plot to get us off our butts and onto our feet.

Nevertheless, our team name is based on Star Trek. What can you expect, we work in IT. A co-conspiritor from another team asked which one I was. "Enterprise."
"Really? Why on earth did you pick that one?"
"Umm, because I'm an enterprising person?"
He ignored that and complained Enterprise was the worst of the lot.
"When [E] came back from a Star Trek convention, he said he had been talking to [Deanna Troi] and asked if she minded that the Enterprise series was cancelled part way through."
We listened with interest.
"Not really was the reply. Why? Because it was crap..."

How can you argue with an assessment like that from one of the stars? (Actually I picked it because I liked the name...)

Travel trauma

You know, part of - actually a very large part of - my duties at work means organising overseas travel for my work colleagues. A task I love dearly ... not!

I've come to the conclusion that my GM is not meant to travel this month. In spite of what he may think.

First port of call, Bangkok. Military coup put paid to those plans. Then, Hungary. Budapest to be precise. Whoa, riots.

You'd think he's listen to what the fates are trying to say wouldn't you?

Pearls of Wisdom

Yep, pearls of wisdom from the Teen.....

"You know," she sighed "life was much easier when we were young and boys had germs."

Raised eyebrow from Mother. "Hmmm you still have to be careful, boys still give you germs. It's called pregnancy."

"Hey, are you saying I'm a germ?"

"You? Nope, you're just a parasite. Parasites live off you for the rest of your life."

Gasp!

"No, they don't! They only live off you till you die........."

Countdown!

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, COUNTDOWN!

Ah, that brings back fond memories of growing up. The most popular teenage show that featured live acts from Australian bands, gossip and vid clips. We all watched it. You were square if you didn't.

Last night I had the chance to attend the Countdown Spectacular, the second show staged in Brisbane, in what was basically a reunion of some of the most popular acts of the time. It was brilliant!! Acts like JPY, Leo Sayer (ok, a pom, but loved enough to be considered an honourary Aussie), James Reyne, Cheetah, Chantoozies. Wow. And a special reunion from Sherbet. By the end of the first set, I was hoarse from cheering and yelling right along with all the old favourites.

Rumour has it that maybe a second concert could be in the pipeline.

One drawback - catching the train! How stuipid is it that the last train leaves before the end of the concert??? Luckily, they held the train so people could catch it back to the city. From there, I had to catch a taxi back to the car which had been left at the local railway station on our way in. Kind of defeats the purpose, really.

Knickers in a twist

I noticed a story on one of our 'tabloid tv' programs that masquerades as a current affairs program. I have been out of circulation for a while with regard to purchasing little girl's undies, not since the Teen reached double figures.

I know little girls like to dress up, but really. Padded bras? G-strings? Well, hang on ... now that I recall the segment, I think they only showed a string bikini. In sizes as small as 6. Lace, sequins, ribbons. It's all there. Now that's scarey. Where do we draw the line here? Why would you want your 6 year old to be wearing this stuff?

For me, if a girl starts wearing the lace and the knicks at age 6, what's she got to look forward to as a rite of passage? Being given my first bra for high school was a sign of 'coming of age', much the same as the (really) old fashioned concept of a boy receiving his first pair of long trousers.

These days, kids already grow up too fast. Time to back off and let them be kids.

September 11

September 11 has become a huge moment in time for all the wrong reasons. What about some of the other great things to happen on this day......

... Explorer Henry Hudson sailed into New York Harbour and discovered Manhattan Island and the Hudson River
... The seige of Sovastopol ended when French, British and Piedmontese troops captured the main naval base of the Russion Black fleet in the Crimean War
... The Carol Burnett Show premiered on CBS
... Little House on the Prairie made its debut on television (well, that could be great, depending on your point of view... ...)
... John Lee Hooker received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame
... Last Israeli troops leave Gaza (well, that didn't exactly last long, did it?)

(info courtesy of On-This-Day.com)

Bad week to be a celeb

And now we have lost Peter Brock. In the immortal - ha! - words of one of my siblings, it sure is turning out to be a bad week to be a celebrity.

One of the GT tells me that the Australian icons are dying off, so he is likely to be next. Yeah, right....

But have you noticed that these things seem to come in threes? I wonder who we will lose next?

UnAustralian comments.....

Well I see that age hasn't mellowed Germaine Greer any. She's just as vociferously vitriolic as ever. Her latest take is that Steve Irwin was a tormentor of animals and many Australians found him embarassing. She also found the British press describing the mass floral tributes and public outpouring of grief as 'a Princess Diana moment' extremely embarassing.

You know, I have to stand up and say YES! I am one of those Aussies who found his public persona extremely embarassing. I have also admitted this to more than one American I have come across who professed a huge 'love' of this man. For me, South Park summed it up beautifully one episode with Cartman's parody of an Aussie croc hunter.

However, that doesn't mean that Germaine's comments were timely or appropriate. C'mon Germaine, you can't say that Australia might not have found you embarrassing once upon a time.

Australian values?

Seems to be a lot of political rhetoric lately about immigrants and muslims. Muslim leaders should denounce terrorism (haven't the pollies been listening?). Integrate into Australian society and take up 'Australian Values'. But no one seems to be game enough to define these values. Well, come on people! It's not that hard.

It's pride in our country. Pride in our flag (how come burning our flag is NOT a crime???). Mateship. Giving your fellow Aussie 'a fair go' (ok, we'll forget about the Rum Rebellion and the Eureka Stockade for a moment! :O) ).

I do agree, however, that yes you should learn to speak english. You can be at a definite disadvantage if you don't learn the local language, regardless of where you live. It's the minimum I would expect of myself.

Whatever strife is happening at 'home' - leave it there. If you come here for a new start, that's exactly what you should be doing.

I really believe that living with these 'values' is not too much to ask. Australia is a beautiful place, I love living here. It's a shame to feel that our politicians and influential leaders can't seem to get to grips that they are fighting on the same side. But then, free speech is supposed to be another of our great values......

Steve Irwin is dead???

Well, you can just never tell can you!!! Boring Monday, and pow! This happens.

Yes, breaking news is that Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin has died in a diving accident. What a shock! Although I didn't necessarily like his television work, his work with the Australia Zoo and other wildlife projects was worth while. Thinking of your wife and kids Steve.......

I hate Mondays

Well, here it is, gone 2pm on Monday and I feel like crap. Monday is never a good day anyway, being too close to the start of the week and all. One of the GT's suggested this morning that we could always go for a beer. Heck, works for me, except the pub wasn't open. Second option was going for a coffee while we wait for the pub to open. Even better.

Once upon a time (long long ago) I used to like Mondays, Tuesdays were great, Wednesday was getting better and so on till Friday. Yahoo! Time to go out! Then I had the weekend to recover. These days, as I get older, it becomes more of a struggle to get the enthusiasm for just about anything going. Except Friday. But that's a whole different reason. Now, Mondays are crap, Tuesday I couldn't give a stuff, Wednesday is getting better, middle of the week and all that, and so on till Friday. Yahoo! Time to go home to spend the next 3 days on the couch.

Ah, I love getting older. All the priveleges that being a YA (young adult) never offered. Now I can take what I want without feeling guilty. Do it all in my own time. Wear what I like and not care what anyone else says.

As they say: Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.

Nothing to look at here......

A family pet with an obvious identity crisis.


Holy heck. The Teen is going out to youth group. She tells me the theme is "Spring Break". What 'emo' has to do with spring is well and truly beyond me, but hey, I am only one of those called 'Mother'. I'm not supposed to be able to figure that stuff out. As the Teen says "it's so strange, it just might work".......