Doh!

Last night as I put S to bed he mentioned something about sperm and wanted to know how much sperm a man had.

Well, this really took me by surprise as I have not as yet broached that area of sex education as I knew when the time came I would be compelled to mention about orgasms and ejaculation - neither of which I really think he needs to be aware of at aged ten. That subject can be raised in the schoolyard.

So I said something really lame like "Oh, yeah sperm. Um, well a man can have millions of them all wiggling around - they come out at the end of sex". Then I blabbed a bit about IVF etc.

I then asked why he wanted to know.

To which he said:

"Oh, I was watching The Simpsons and Bart asked Homer what sperm was and Homer said they were tadpoles and then he started dreaming about them and all the sperm had Homer heads and kept bumping into each other and saying "Doh" and they were having a good time"

I said, yeah, that is about right.

Glad I got that sticky subject out the way.....

Doh!

Ciao
LC

Moody Mums and Surly Sons

When I was pregnant I remember thinking that I hoped my child would be nice looking (for their sake) and not at all like me (also for their sake). I wanted this new baby to have the calm and focused mind of my husband for I struggled with my own thought processes and did not want my child to experience the same difficulties I did.

For as a child and a young adult I was moody. Long deep and dark moods that excluded and included everyone around me. I wrote the most heavy and depressive poetry that reflected the "great suffering" that flowed through my "troubled" mind. When a foul mood would descend upon me I was able to come out with the most unkind comments which were delivered right to the most sensitive part of the unwitting recipient. Now that I am older I understand that being part of a very difficult upbringing within an extremely volatile family situation made things harder for me as I grew up. On top of all that, I was "hormonally challenged" and that is putting it mildly. So a lot of it was not always in my initial control.

I am sure I got away with being a first class bitch for many years because I was quite pretty but I remember one day, after a particularly stressful week of pmt (which involved me cutting my hair short in a violent rage and throwing a kettle of boiling water at a boyfriend as he ran off) I had a moment of clarity when I thought to myself that if I did not get control of this I am going to be old and friendless and sad. I am going to be a shit parent and a totally out of control woman. If I was not careful I would end up being like my father and that was enough to spur me on. So, I just spent years rethinking how I approached things and kept putting myself in other peoples shoes or learnt to count to ten before reacting etc etc. It was not at all easy, but what is?

I had my son at aged 33 after IVF and not long after was on medication for PND which was expected due to family history etc. I can honestly say that in the ten years that S has been in my life, I do not believe he has ever viewed me having one of those horrible, horrible moods. I have been grumpy, yelled etc, but never, ever been moody or hostile. Not just because I don't go down that road but also because it would be the worst example to set him. Don't think I don't feel like being a shit - I just don't act it out. I have it pretty much sorted and treat those around me with the utmost care and respect.

Well, what a fucking waste of time all that has been because S is MOODY. Yes, he has inherited the dark and poisonous mood gene (which my father also had). When he is in that mood he really searches for the most unkind thing that he can say to me and, whilst we were on holiday recently, he actually managed to make me cry with his nastiness - okay, it was that time of the month so I may have been a bit more sensitive that usual but.....

When he was not in the throes of a mood I had to sit down and explain to him some tactics to adopt to see him through those feelings because sometimes they are not always rational. I suggested that when he feels that way, to perhaps tell us so we know what is happening. Along with that I had to explain what the consequences could be if he did not learn to handle the feelings (no friends, poor relationships with people etc)

I also had to explain to K that it was best not to get angry when S was caught in the grip of that gloom and doom as it really does inflame the situation and will be like that for a few years until S can get a better understanding of the movement of his thoughts. Better to accept and ignore it and not feed it for a bad mood is like a hungry fire. It may not be the best tactic for ever, but until he learns to deal with them, it is maybe a good start.

So anyway, the other night, out of the blue as I was putting S to bed he just was overcome with this intensely bad mood and told me to go away. He hid his head under the bed covers and said it was best if I left, he was in a mood and wanted to just let it pass and not talk about it. I guess it was his first step into acknowledging what was happening and did not want it to escalate. He went to sleep with his head under the covers and was fine the next morning and had enough thought to say he was sorry for not giving me a kiss goodnight. Oh what a journey is ahead for him.

You cannot be selective with what comes down the genetic line can you?

Ciao

LC

Toothbrushes

One of the things I hate hearing when I am about to go supermarket shopping is "we need new toothbrushes".

How can brushing teeth have become so complicated?

It is bad enough I have to go food shopping without having to contend with yet another decision to make. Food shopping is not one of my favorite activities

So I stand in front of the toothbrush section and stare at the wide variety of oral care available. Tongue scrapers, gum massagers, colour notifiers which tell you when to replace the brush (is that a marketing ploy or what?), brushes that reach far back and around into places which never see the light of day, brushes with undulating surfaces, brushes with batteries in them, brushes with short head, long heads, hard, med and soft heads. Brushes with ergonomic handles and rubber pads on them to ensure a good grip.

Then there is the plethora of mouth washes, plaque identifiers, whitening solutions and different flavoured mouth washes in all sorts of colours. Toothpastes - well, you can imagine.

It is all well and good for a person who is able to make a decision on the spot, but for someone like me who spends an awful lot of time thinking about what it must be like to be an ant amongst thousands and still maintain individuality, standing there rooted to the spot is just another stressful moment in my day.

In the end, after much consideration, I choose very carefully the most suitable toothbrush only to find that the stupid ergonomic handle does not fit into the little hole in the toothbrush holder in my bathroom and therefore has to sit on the vanity somewhere and make bit sticky deposits of toothpaste blob everywhere.

Ciao
LC

Bayko

I collect this. I have loads of it.

Sometimes I take it out and build it.

Sometimes I take it out to look at it and feel good.

http://www.melright.com/bayko/index.htm

I have loved Bayko for years.

If I had room I would have a trainset and make a small town with Bayko and just live there - if you get what I mean.

I also love Lego.

It is sometimes lonely being a 43 year old female who loves Bayko and Lego.

Ciao

LC

Exercise and Diet Discipline

Three ugly words in any one's vocabulary aren't they.

But those three words are hugely intertwined in my life.

I never eat crap food. And when I say never, well, I am telling the truth. While other people indulge in chocolates, cakes, chips and take away I am eating sushi, bircher muesli and amaranth. I bake cakes and cookies which are delicious but don't eat them unless to have a cursory taste. Initially I had to take this stance as so much food was making me unwell and I have never gone back to poor eating habits. I live my food life through others as if I ate what I cooked I would be sick. When I make a chocolate cake I enjoy watching someone else eat it. People feel sorry for me when they notice I am eating soup whilst they are downing a big juicy steak.

It is quite normal for me to prepare three different meals each night to suit what everyone in the house prefers. K never eats seafood, lamb, chicken or very meaty things. He is almost vegetarian. S loves pasta. Hates meat with bones, lamb or chicken. Hates vegetables but I manage to find a way of hiding them.

When I think how I came from a Danish family that ate anything and everything and lots of it I do wonder at how austere my diet has become. No longer do I miss the food I used to love. Buttery Danish pastries, crispy based pizzas topped with ham and cheese, chocolate (tho' I can eat very dark bitter chocolate in small amounts), creamy pasta dishes, spicy salami, oil soaked black olives, sun dried tomatoes, feta cheese and the odd creme brulee . I remember the taste and texture but my body no longer is orgasmic at the thought of my tongue coming into contact with the flavours of those dishes.

Now, I relish vegan, low fat pizza that the local pizza shop makes, spicy chili and tomato soup, freshly baked multi-grain bread with a thin layer of Vegemite across it, freshly chopped seasonal fruit with plain no-fat yogurt, tossed salad with herbs and spices to enhance the crisp flavour and, as a treat, a freshly baked bagel with a thin layer of creamed honey. Mmmmmmm.

As for exercise. Well, I just do it. Jog, walk, run, weights, sit ups, squats, boxercise and anything else that keeps my mind settled. A normal week is Monday - 6km walk, Tuesday - Gym, Wed - outdoor circuit - Thurs - boxercise - Frid - rest - Sat and Sun - 6km walk each day or bike ride. I can run easily for 5 kms but don't run 10 km because it gets boring and I have a temperamental leg that grumbles with too much running. When I do jog, the first 1km out is shitful and then when that rush of endorphins comes in (and it truly does) I am in the groove and just coast listening to the music on my ipod.

Now, I am not telling you all this to brag. But this is all how I keep settled and steady as human being. I actually do not like exercise but do it regardless because the benefits outweigh the dislike. Considering three years ago I could not run 100 feet without dry retching I have to say that even I am impressed with my fitness level. Having been once very unfit and now fitter than someone aged twenty years younger is kind of a good feeling. Sometimes I am obsessed but think it is better to be addicted to good health than hamburgers or alcohol.

All my life I wanted to be a disciplined person and when I worked out how to do it, it made life so easy in a hard kind of way.

Anway, that is my self congratulating post of the day. When I read it back, it does make me feel better about myself as I am inclined to melancholy and self criticism.

Ciao
LC

Notebook Magazine Gripe # 2

Once again I bought Notebook Magazine.

Must be a glutton for punishment. Actually I just wanted to reaffirm my thoughts on this magazine and intend to every month.

Anyway, I was reading some article about some fabulous furniture fashion fix when my eye was drawn towards an advertisement for an Asus UI laptop and how fabulous it is especially since it uses a blah blah Intel Centrino Duo processor. I was suitably impressed with the twaddle about it all. Until I got to the tiny last paragraph which said:

Now, this Notebook magazine is geared towards women. Every page drips with suggestions on how to have your house, your clothing, your cooking and your skincare. Yet, I cannot help but notice how this laptop is just so fantastic that the business executive would find it HIS best travelling companion, satisfy HIS requirement for high quality style and empower HIM with all the full abilities of a wireless capable notebook PC.

Um, er, in this day and age, don't you think that advertising would acknowledge that women also use computers for more than the odd email. In fact, some may even have a lap top.

I think some misogynist may have done the proof reading here.

Ciao
LC

Imposter Syndrome?

One day people are going to find out I am an imposter of sorts. At least I think I must be as sometimes I do things I don't want to do because I have to. I am sure half the mother's in the world are of the same mindset.

I do what I do because that is part of life. Work, wife, motherhood, friendships. But, there are many times when I would prefer to be alone. Which is not a reflection at all on the people I share my life with. Because they are good and I do love them both. But I prefer the silence of my own company. Like a child playing with toys alone. I am sure K knows what I am like in that sense and, out of kindness and some sort of respective understanding, he chooses not to mention it. He often says it must be awful living inside my head. But it actually is all I know so that is okay.

Frequently in my head I am in a completely different world. My mouth opens and lets the appropriate words come out that will satisfy the person who is asking the questions. Somehow I remember it all, but mostly I just live in a space in my head in which I think about things that please me.

I am not quite sure how I actually managed to get where I am and have the life I have because when I really dissect the years it is all a big blur.

There are times when K will talk about something that we did years ago and I find I am unable to recall it without treating it as a story I made up in my head. I think that is just the way I process memories. I have to make them make sense in a way I understand.

It is a though I live a story about a life that someone made up. But I reside in my head which is the only place I can try to find peace with my thoughts.

It took me years to teach myself to stop thinking all the time. Took me years to accept who I am and the things I do or don't do. Years to stop reacting to the light of the day, the silence of night, the movement of people around me and the noise they made and how they invaded my personal space. I have to constantly maintain some type of vigilance to ensure that all my thoughts don't tumble out from their hiding place and end up in my day to day thinking.

Unfortunately today they did tumble out and it is very noisy in there.

A long walk and loud music is on the cards for tonight.

Ciao

LC

Weddings and Presents

This Sunday I K and I are going to a family wedding (on his side). Initially I was annoyed that it was at 11.00 am on Sunday therefore taking from me an entire day. I then have to sit around listening to blah blah blah. Sit at a table with people I don't know and make polite conversation which is not one of my strengths. But I am accepting now that I do have to go and at least I get to frock up.

Now, of course we have to give a wedding present. We have been given a choice of either giving money to them in the "wishing well" or going to a department store where they have a gift registry.

I want to say how much I hate both of those options. I don't want them to know how much money I spent on them and the thought of putting cash in an envelope is just shallow. It is not even traditional like pinning money on a bride's dress in some cultures is. I don't want them to know what they are getting and I refuse to take either option up. It takes away the thought process for me of buying a gift. It shows to me a level of greed that I find offensive. The last wedding we went to had a coffee machine and a vacuum cleaner on their bridal registry - get real. Couples can use the excuse that they don't want to get another toaster etc. But those days are gone. There are so many beautiful things out there to give someone that the chance of doubling up is very small.

So I am going down the the shop that I like and choosing a gift that I think is lovely and if they don't like it they can give it to someone at Christmas or shove it in a cupboard and forget about it.

Bad enough I have to give up a Sunday without being told where to shop.

Ciao
LC

Must Do Number Six in Australia

No visit to Australia can go without a trip to Sydney. Or more specifically a trip to the Sydney Harbour Bridge. This iconic coathanger shaped bridge welcomes everyone to the beautiful harbour that is Sydney. In the past few years it has become possible to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge. This is not to be missed. It is so much fun and so much to see from the top. Here is a picture of me on the top of the bridge and in the background is the Sydney Opera House, another beautiful icon. Photo is about three or four years ago.

Ferries take passengers from one side of the harbour to the other. Tooronga Zoo is built on a hill and, whilst small, is a great place to include in a visit. Sydney Luna Park was recently refurbished and offers and mix of the old and new with rides and bright lights to entertain child or adult. Oxford Street, famous for shopping and people watching is the gay capital of Sydney whilst Kings Cross is still as seedy as it was fifty years ago.

Housing is Sydney is extremely expensive but some of the properties in Mosman house many rich and famous in gorgeous houses. Just near the harbour is The Rocks which is an area that is where convicts first settled. There are still some very early houses to see which show how Sydney was when first settled. But, just for the harbour area alone, Sydney is a good for a quick stop over.

However, as gorgeous as Sydney is, the one thing that would stop me actually living there is the funnel web spider. It has a nasty bite and does tend to hide in your laundry, shoes and out in the garden so you have to be mindful when doing things around the place. I am spider phobic and just could not live in the same space as one of those arachnids.

Ciao

LC

Mothering Techniques

With all the books about how to be a good mother it is easy to get confused and lose confidence. In the end I adopted my own style combined with the stuff my mum handed down to me.

1. I let S hang around in his pyjamas all weekend if we are not going out anywhere
2. I don't always make S have a bath/shower each day unless he smells or looks like he might smell
3. S still comes into our bed at night when he has a nightmare - he used to end up in our bed nearly every night - now only twice a week.
4. When S was a baby I picked him up every single time he cried and then let him fall asleep in my arms which explains why number 3 is happening.
5. Last week S had chocolate for dinner two nights in a row - once because K did not give him dinner, neglected to tell me and then I gave him chocolate in complete ignorance. Second night I made him lasagne which he did not like, followed by pasta which was tasted yucky so I just gave him and Aero bar - so, so what a bad thing is that.
6. I answer all questions that S has no matter how uncomfortable I feel about it e.g What is a prostitute, do they do it to have babies, how do you not have babies, what does love feel like, what is a first kiss like and other sorts of questions.
7. I let him watch television for more than two hours, sometimes ALL DAY!
8. I let him play on the computer far too much
9. I never let him leave the house without breakfast no matter what.
10. When it somes to food I don't make him eat vegetables but he likes fruit. But to offset that I am super strict about crap food in the house. No chips, white bread, sugary cereals, muesli bars, packet cookies or cakes etc etc.
11. I never make him eat all his food on his plate. And still let him have dessert regardless.
12. Until recently, I would not allow myself to be more than half an hour drive away from him - unless he was on a school camp etc at which time I spent three days in tears. All this I hide from him to a large degree to ensure I do not smother him. Such a hard thing to do. Although a while ago I asked him if I loved him too much and he said no, of course not.

He says I shout too much, I am scarey and bossy. But he says he will never be too old to kiss or cuddle me in front of his friends.

I asked him yesterday what was the best piece of advice his parents had given him.

His answer was "Don't go onto bad websites as they will put pictures in your head that don't need to be there and will spoil beautiful things for you". So he never does - actually he can't as we have Net Alert but still he remembered what I said and never tries.

Of course, he is only ten so a bit easier to handle - I wonder, I wonder what he will be like three years from now.

Ciao
LC

Flowers

These poppies are Flanders Poppies are my all time favorite flower. About twelve years ago I emptied a packet of the seeds in my front garden and ever since then they have flowered, died back and self seeded back into the garden. They have even appeared in my neighbours garden. The earth needs to be disturbed to encourage them to spring up all over the place. They are well known in the poem Flander Fields by John McCrae which describes the poppies that appeared in profusion in Flanders which is where thousands of young men died during WWI. There is always a feeling of melancholy associated with them.

I think they are lovely.

Ciao

LC

Sunday Sneak

I did something a bit dishonest today. But before I confess to the crime, I should mention what preceded it as it may vindicate me.

Woke up late with a big fat headache because S put the ducted heating on 26c to ensure that the entire house would be stuffy by the time I woke up.

After getting dressed I decide to go out and tackle the very weedy front yard and end up mowing the lawn, sweeping the driveway and front footpath. By this stage I have totally lost interest in gardening as my headache has been aggravated by me eating bread that I buy for S and K and not my bread (food allergy/intolerance thingy).

K goes off to play jazz at the Hotel as he does every second Sunday which means S and I go off and have some lunch at this great big lovely garden centre. When I get there I pull up beside a really, really crappy and old red car which a very old woman has parked in a rather crooked way. I know it is owned by and old woman as she was about to open the boot of the car to load her stuff in. I say to S that I am not parking near her as I have a bad feeling about her and her car and then drive forward so that when I do eventually leave I can drive straight out as opposed to have to reverse out which is fine. The red car is still parked behind the car on my immediate right so I am safe from her.

After S has lunch and I read a newspaper we pick up lots of stuff for the garden and make our way out to the car to load up the stuff having a chit chat at the same time. After I have pushed the empty trolley back to the car I notice that some fucking cow has scraped their car along my front right hand side bumper. And the paint is RED and I am betting that it was that stupid car that I avoided parking next to because it is the same sort of orange red colour that was popular 20 years ago and I just know that SHE did it. The car she had been parked behind had gone and then allowed her to just drive out from her space and smudge my car on the way.

Somehow I get home without swearing (have to set a good example here for S) and then unload the car and once again inspect the damage and start to feel a bit better about it all as I think it will polish out. S says the lady should have stopped and left her name and I explained that she was older and maybe did not realise what she did and perhaps did not have insurance and that not all people are honest etc etc. In the back of my mind I am thinking that had I done the same would I have stopped? I definitely would if S was with me as I have to do the right thing as a grown up if I want him to be half decent.

Now, where was I going with all this? The dishonest thing.

Well, I had to go supermarket shopping at about 5.00pm and off I went to the land of boring with my not so perfect car and the rain all around and my headache still banging away. I had to buy some tomatoes. Now, you just don't get red tomatoes any more. You get field tomatoes, hydroponic tomatoes,vine tomatoes, grape tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, fucking romano tomatoes and some purple things that I cannot remember the name of. Well, I like the vine tomatoes as they taste the best and they also happen to be the most expensive. They have the little green stalk left on them so that the cashier is able to tell which tomato it is to ensure that they pick the correct price code. And this leads to my dishonesty - I picked all the green stalks off so that it looked like I had bought the field tomatoes which were $3.50 per kg cheaper.

I have never done such a thing and I kind of got the notion to pick the green bits off as I walked around finishing off the shopping. Although, I have eaten and apple and some grapes whilst shopping. It is just so boring there and I get hungry.

So, that is it.

Ciao
LC

Um Er Okay

A while ago someone said to me that they think they would make a great life coach.


"Oh really, and why is that?" I replied.


To which they (truly seriously) replied: "Well, I think I would be very good at telling people what to do with their lives".

I am not quite sure that she grasped the role of a life coach.

I think she had it mixed with being a mother.

Ciao
LC

Saturday Hair Day

Today I went to my most favorite place - the hairdressers. Every four weeks sees me sitting in that chair, drinking strong coffee and getting ready to read trashy mags. Catch up on all the personal gossip from my darling hairdresser and just relax for two to three hours.



Yep, two to three hours. Colour, foils and a fantabulous blow wave that makes my hair look like a movie star. When I step out the door and the sun is shining my hair swings like those in a shampoo advert. The sun shines upon my crowning glory like a halo. I get home and S and K say they love my hair. Glossy, chocolate brown and looking long and delicious. Eat your heart out Angelina Jolie!!! um er well, maybe not quite that. But you understand what I am saying. My hair looks HOT.



Then, two days later I have to wash it. I use super WOW salon hair shampoo. I have a hot shot professional hairdryer. I have the best hair product range in town. Before and after smoothing oil, spray for trapping that colour in and to protect it from the "elements", gorgeous smelling hair spray etc. and more etc. I have all products for all occassions. Some people are shoe whores whilst I am a hair product whore. I spend at least twenty minutes blow drying my hair. Do you think I can achieve that unbelievably gorgeous look that my hairdresser gives me? No way, never.


I can get a tousled kind of "not bad for an aging sex kitten look" which I really don't want it looks more like something I should wear out to a Disco (or whatever they are called these days). I can get the "okay when inside but totally frizzy and gross once outside in the elements look" which, as you can imagine will never be okay. Sometimes I just think "fuck it" and just let it dry naturally - not a good move and guaranteed to totally and entirely ruin my day.

Oh well, one day I won't give a shit and will cut it all off.

In the meantime I shall just keep working toward hair heaven.

Ciao
LC

Drawing

Recently I have decided to pick up where I left off years ago and do some drawing. There is something rather soothing about making a picture out of thoughts in your head. No-one has to like it either because the actual action of drawing is for my benefit.

The main thing is to make the time to do it even if it means other things get left undone.

Have decided that the reason above is a good enough one to not do the ironing!

Ciao

LC

Stupid Party Things

I went to one of those stupid party things that people have at their house. It was on Monday night and it was an Intimo Lingerie party.

I hate those fucking party things because I end up spending more than I want to and once again that old black knicker magic worked it's charm and out came the credit card.

So, one of the items was this white wrap top that you can tie in 150 different ways - the theory is that one top becomes lots and saves you money etc. Yeah, right. Last time I did that was with some black shawl thing that always ended up looking like I was wearing a fishing net.

Anyway, the stuff arrived today so I am going to wear it every day for the next three weeks because I can tie it 18 different ways and no-one will know that it is not the same top.

Yeah right.

The black knickers were nice though. One can never have enough undies I say. And, since the last lot I bought were from the supermarket (sad but true), I figure I have earnt them.

Won't be wearing those for the next three weeks though - they aren't quite as versatile as the super dooper white tie top.

Ciao

LC

My Father

My dad does not talk to me (or my siblings) and has not for about 6 years. He was never an easy person and did give all of us a very, very difficult time through the childhood years. But that was past and I dropped that bag years ago - essentially it was just too hard to carry around and also pointless.

I have come to terms with all the feeling of rejection and sadness about the whole thing as there is no other choice. Any attempt at reconciliation has been met with fairly aggressive hostility and, to tell you the truth, I just do not have the mettle to deal with it these days. I can only juggle so much emotion at the one time before I drop my bundle.

But my son now asks about my father more and more. I suppose this is natural curiosity. His relationship with K is good and full of such love that it must seem strange that I no longer have any contact with my own father. Especially since the decision to not speak to me was so unexpected that I wonder if I shall ever have closure on it. Things between my dad and I were fantastic and then, suddenly, they were not.

I try to have a balance of explaining difficulties people have with life and why they do things without putting my own issues in the picture. I also tell him that he is more than welcome to contact my dad and I know that he would welcome S completely (just not the mother of S - me). This was proven to me when one day I went into my dad's bakery with S and I was totally ignored whilst S was given full and complete attention.

Really, sometimes I just cannot think of what to say as, to tell you the truth, deep down I think my dad is a complete shit and does not deserve to ever have a relationship with my beautiful son. But, I do not want to convey that hostility over to S. That would not be showing forgiveness and understanding on any level.

Ho hum indeed.

Thanks dad.

Ciao
LC

Australian Must See # Five

Whilst this little faded gem would not make it in the Lonely Planet travel series, it certainly makes it in mine.

The Big Pineapple.

Australia has a lot of "big" things, Big Cow, Big Pie, Big Crayfish etc. But one of the first and most iconic is The Big Pineapple. I came here when I was about ten years old and last weekend K and I took S to visit the dated tourist fruity paradise.

First opened in 1971, it has become one of the most visited little park along the Sunshine Coast in Queensland. And trust me, there are quite a few trashy parks to drop into up in the sunny state.

There is a 16 metre high fibreglass pinapple that you can climb up to the top of and peer out over the little fields of prickly pinapples, watch the former sugar cane train carry tourists around the park and view the small farm not so far away. Within the walls of the plastic Carmen Miranda headpiece are little model buildings outlining the life and times of your average pineapple. There is an air of times past in this little hut of tropicana. The smell of a dusty floor mixes with the odour of warmed fibreglass as you climb the wooden steps to the next level of information before finally popping out at the crown of this marvel of human desire to take a food product to a new level.

There is a very large dining area which caters for bus loads of tourists stopping by on their journey. From the long food counters they sell the usual array of pies, sausage rolls and chips. Not a salad sandwich or sushi pack in sight. Also on offer is the most delicious range of giant sundae icecreams. All scrumptious flavours of sweet and soft icecream adorned with any tropical fruit you may desire. The enitire concoction topped with chocolate sauce and crushed peanuts. (None of which we had but did admire).

This place would not be complete without the souvenier shop oozing with every conceivable trinket you may wish to take home and keep as a reminder of the day. Badges, postcards, pens, pencils, cups, t-shirts, hats, bags, t-towels, mobiles with hanging wooden pineapples, jams, chutneys, lollies with pineapple centres, jewellery of all sorts - you name it, it is here and almost everything is adorned with a picture of a pineapple. I love the shape of a pineapple. No other fruit says "tropical" like a pineapple.

The toilets were frozen in time with the colours of the very early 1980's featuring strongly. The smell of the cleaning products used reminded me of hospitals I have been in with the powerful disinfected smell. So clean and so tired - it was so nostalgic I was surprised at how fascinated it made me.

Outside the complex there are so many different exotic fruit trees to see and a small train takes you on the journey which not only passes these trees but also a heritage listed rain forest. You can hop off the train half way through the trip and visit a small wildlife park and feed some kangaroos. The park adjoins a small farm with sheep, goats, calves, a donkey and even a couple of dingos that stare all day at the deer in an adjoining paddock. The children can feed the animals, pat them and enjoy them totally and without restraint. There are baby mice and chicks which are bred to be fed to the caged owls. Sounds a bit creepy, but if that is what they eat, so be it. This little farm has one of those gorgeous American type of barns.

If you have time, you can also catch the Macadamia Nut ride and get a tour of the farm where the macadamia nuts are grown and harvested.

Perhaps this park just does not make it in the travel books as it now has an air of the past about it. Not so slick now, lots of people pass it by for the biggger and more exciting places with rides, more food outlets, noise and action. But here, in this place the three of us enjoyed the peacefulness of it. The sense of time stopped, the relaxed atmosphere, the refusal of the dining room to be fashionably healthy and the fact that nothing has changed in more than thirty years. S said it was his favorite place. I also learnt how to choose the freshest pinapple at the supermarket!

Sometimes bigger is not always better. Sometimes new is not better than old. You see, it is easy to forget that the things we loved to visit as a child still have the same newness about them to our own children. Everything new becomes old, but only to those who have seen it before.

Ciao
LC

My Desk after My Holiday

Came back to work with batteries reasonably recharged. When I arrived I was astonished at just how much paper was piled up on my desk. It took me two hours to bring my space back to a workable situation.

So, keeping in mind that I only had three working days off, it is a concern of mine as to what will happen when I have three weeks off next year when I go to the UK......

Tonight I shall be going home and organising my week ahead which I cannot help but notice includes more washing followed by more ironing. I have a client I do work for on the some weekends and they have three children. Whenever I go there the washing machine is always on the go and there are baskets with clean clothing ready to be sorted. Piles of folded clothing at the foot of the stairs ready for the children to take up with them and put away. They have an industrial size machine which they bought after they found that the eco friendly front loader took about 1.5 hours per load and only held the smallest amount of clothing per wash. So really, I have nothing to complain about as such. However, I iron everything which is making a rod for my own back, but I realised long ago that being overwhelmed with ironing was preferable to having unironed t-towels and creases in my singlets or t-shirts.

I really should be working. And so that is now what I will do!

Ciao
LC

Holiday

Have come home an unpacked suitcases.

It rained. Actually, it bucketed down for 3 days. Non stop. Plane was diverted on the way there (due to bad weather) and it took 7 hours to arrive at our destination rather than 2.5 hours. This included a long bus ride.

My hair was very, very big and frizzy in the humid and rainy atmosphere.

Got my period and was highly sensitive, which was made worse by having frizzy hair - don't ask why, but it did. S and I argued and he made me cry!!! Twice!!!

K says he now lives with two me's - one being a ten year old male version.

But, when the sun came out and shone down from the blue sky, all was well and the holiday ended on a cheerful note.

No matter what, there is always something wonderful about coming home.

Have uploaded a rather serious photo of me - but the beach was gorgeous. Miles of it, windblown and wild with white sand.

Off to bed now - so tired. More to write about - as despite all the rain, we did have a nice time.

Ciao

LC

Holiday Headspace

Wednesday morning we are off for a short holiday where the sun will hopefully shine a little bit more than it is here.

I am always in a state of anxiety when I initially think of taking holidays. When you work for a small business you do tend to be a bigger cog in the wheel than you would be if you worked for a big corporation. I know this to be a fact as I have done the corporate career crap thing and never want to be there again. The sort of anxiety that goes with that lifestyle is wondering whether or not you will have a job to go back to when you go on holiday or will your marriage survive the 70 hours a week you are working (getting paid for 38 only). These days I work 30 hours a week and have more money - go figure.

Today I went to work and my head was in holiday mode. I just picked up all the nasty things I had been avoiding and did them. In no time at all I had reduced the pile of paper to almost negligible. It was rather interesting to see how one can really do well when there is a holiday looming ahead. I had care factor zero happening.

I expect this holiday to be a bit better than the last three I had. One on a cruise ship about 4 years ago. My idea of HELL. Seasick every day. Rained almost non stop and the one day it was sunny I got very sunburned. Ate too much food and, unbelievable as this sounds, I only had one crap in ten days. I kid you not. Now, considering that each meal was of a huge nature I can only say that the rest of the food ended up on my ARSE and have photos to prove that. On the second day of the cruise my words to K were - "don't ever, ever ask me to go on a cruise again". Every now and then he and S express a desire to cruise and I say "sure thing guys, enjoy yourselves".

Trip after that was to Tasmania. At the time I was ill with an unknown stomach problem that escalated over the next 10 months resulting in the most astonishing weight loss and astonishing medical bills (weight loss was okay - medical bills were not). So I spent a lot of time with my head down the toilet and being unable to eat very much other than an apple or bread. Apart from that, Tasmania was very, very beautiful even if rather boring after one week - shops shut at 12 on Saturday and no Sunday shopping which is fine but just hard to get used to in a week if you run out of something.

Our trip to the fun parks last year was just like being at home. I did breakfast, made lunches for each day trip, and organised dinner most nights for ten days. It was hot and my hair was frizzy each day I got sunburned despite sunscreen being slapped on before I left the resort. And I did washing. K was in charge of entertaining S and his cousin so that was fair I think. Sill, not my idea of holiday time for me. But S enjoyed the whole thing and that is what those fun park holidays are usually about.

This holiday is a mummy holiday. I am not cooking anything. We are out every meal. We are off to the Australian Zoo which is the home of Steve Irwin (when he was around of course). I remember going there as a child when it was a small reptile park run by his father. So a bit of a nostalgic trip for me. Just taking it easy for a few days, recharge batteries and then back to work Monday morning.

Cannot wait.

Ciao
LC

Music and My Car

When I jump in my car the first thing I do is turn on the music. Loud and the louder the better. It fills my head and then finds its place in my body and pumps me up for the day. My taste in music probably sits in the 70's and 80's as that is when I was a young girl and highly emotional and therefore the music had a fairly significant impact on me. Songs trigger deep emotions and there are some songs I do not listen to when feeling melancholy or vulnerable.

Often I listen to the same song over and over and over like it is a mantra. I have to be careful not to get too excited about the music when I am driving as the last time I did I ended up with a speeding ticket and that was not very pleasant.

At the moment I am listening to the best of Bruce Springsteen and will probably listen to the CD all week before changing it to another one. Last week was Crowded House - the week before was Fergie.

Whenever K or S get in the car they turn the music down straight away having experienced the blast of whatever song was last playing as the ignition is turned on. Recently, out of consideration to them both, I have made the effort to turn the volume down as I drive into our driveway.

Today I was driving along and noticed, once again, that the speaker in the driver's door was vibrating in the most annoying way. It had been vibrating for the past two weeks. That raised my anxiety levels as the car is only three months old. I spent the next ten minutes thinking I was going to take the car to the dealership, they would have to open the door skin to fix the speaker. Then I was thinking that it was pathetic that I have a new car and the speaker has a loud rattly buzz in it. Anxiety levels start to make me shitty.

Then I just happened to take a cd case that was sitting in the driver's side pocket and put it into the glove box and, all of a sudden, the vibrating stopped.

Anxiety levels replaced by private embarrassment. Two whole weeks I put up with that vibration - two weeks.

Is that a girl thing?

Ciao
LC

Sunday Ho Hum

Woke up this morning with the realisation the the PMT monster was replaced by the "ate something with a nasty additive in it" monster and spent the morning with a vomit inducing headache. But that did not stop me from going shopping to return some things which is neither here nor there. However, at the shops I was wondering around waiting for the headache and nausea to subside to enable me to get back in the car and drive home and I went into a shop selling an assortment of underwear and bras etc. As I was browsing the sales assistant came up to me to ask if I needed help (as they do).

Well, I turned to respond and it was all I could do not to laugh out aloud for this young girl had gone very much out of her way to look like Paris Hilton. she had the hairstyle, the eye makeup, the face colour and lipstick. She was wearing a Paris Hilton smock/bag dress thing and flat ballet shoes. Why on earth would you go out of your way to look like that? Of all the stylish celebrities out there, why look like that. It is a most unfortunate look. It has the same tragic tone to it as Posh Beckham's underfed appearance.

I must have looked a bit taken aback when I looked at her and mumbled something about just browsing and then spent another couple of minutes sneaking a few looks at her in fascination.

Speaking of fascination, I have been watching with great disgust and also ghoulish fascination that terrible show called "America's Next Top Model". What a shameful lot of twaddle that is. Awful, just awful to see girls being humiliated all for the promise of a career based on how one looks. I can't stop watching it though. I justify my voyeurism with the adage that everyone on television deserves what they get - that is what the small print is about.

Women's Liberation - ????

Ciao
LC

PMT

PMT - Pre Menstrual Tension

FAT

Two pairs of pants don't quite fit - and I am not so sure they shrunk in the wash.

Everyone ANNOYS me.

FAT

BLOATED

GRUMPY

"F" word featuring heavily in my psyche. Keeps wanting to escape from my mouth loudly but have to set an example and not release it to the world.

Cannot believe a day can start so pleasantly and then a monster crawled in my head. Am going to bed early to get away from myself.

fuck

Ciao

LC

Spring has Sprung

Today is the first day of September and it is Spring which means the warmer days are on their way. I awoke and the sky was blue and I felt that joyful feeling that defies whatever crap may be ahead - not that there was any ahead. S was still asleep and K had gone up to the shops to get the Saturday newspaper. I love weekends just for the fact that I don't have to rush around.

S and I went to The Farmer's Market where he ate a buffalo sausage in a roll and I had my obligatory super strong coffee to give me a kick start. I love Farmer's Markets as the food is great, the atmosphere is peaceful and happy and my money goes straight to the person who grew or made the food - sometimes both. There is a stall there run by two rather young and handsome French men who sell organic and pesticide free sultanas, muscatels, dried apricots and lovely small black currants. They give out samples in tiny paper cups and tell anyone who is happy to listen all the processes that their food goes through before it arrives at the market. I always buy something there as the taste and texture is so different to what comes out of a supermarket. Food should always be of this standard everywhere. When I think of what is on the shelf at supermarkets it seems so wrong. Although the cost is more for some things, the quality is so high and the flavour so intense that you do not need to consume as much to be satisfied. Food that is grown with thought and care is always so much more satisfying.

There is a great coffee cart there that pumps out cup after cup of the most aromatic and flavoursome coffee and the wait is worth it. They grow their coffee in Byron Bay, roast it and bring it down to Melbourne. Nothing beats a cup of coffee made by a professional and passionate Barista. Mmmmm, I can still smell it. S walks around sampling all the food and tends to linger a bit at the chocolate truffle stall, sampling many times the tasty treats.

These Markets are held in different places each Saturday so, with careful planning, I can get there quite often and top up the pantry with healthy and tasty fruit and vegetables (which always last longer than supermarket groceries). Sometimes it is nice to just take time out and not rush.

Ciao

LC

Fourth Australian Must Do

Go to the beach. In Australia are miles and miles of the most divine beaches. In fact, that must be one of the most popular things to do in Summer. Going to the beach to surf, to fish, to sunbake, to play beach volley ball, to people watch, to read and relax and to enjoy. This picture is my local beach. The beach huts are owned by residents of Brighton but can also be purchased separately for large amounts of money. They are very iconic and at one stage they were being pulled down or left to fade way and disappear with the ravages of salt air and neglect. Now they are treasured. They can only be used as bathing boxes and not to live in. People paint them in the loveliest colours.

In Queensland is a place called Bribie Island and the sand squeaks when you walk on it. As a child I found that very amusing to run around and make the sand squeak with my bare feet.

You can lose yourself at the beach. Be a child again. Listen to the water. Lie in the warm sun and catch snippets of people's conversations as you drift in and out of sleepy land. Just remember to put loads of sunscreen on. In Australia is the highest rate of melanoma cancer in the world.

This is my memory of the beach now and always.

Linda and her Surroundings: The Perpetuity of the Beach

For others it is about holidays, first love, childhood, zinc cream, sandy feet, icecream, seagulls and all the things that find a place in the most peaceful place within us.

I could not live too far from the sandy shores. Whenever we can, S and I will go to the beach and sit for a few hours and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes K comes along but is not so inclined to sit outside when it is too hot.

I love the beach.

Ciao

LC

Today

Today I left work early just for the heck of it. Well, not just that. My boss mentioned he was going out for lunch and that I would be lonely in the office on my own. Not that I minded but, to tell you the truth, I really wanted to go. So I did.

My car found its way to the big shop called DFO which is Direct Factory Outlets where there are lots of stores selling their wares at discounted prices. Which really means they will only make 100% profit on everything as opposed to 400%.

Well, I finally found a suitcase. I like to bond with things that I buy. Have a moment of connection, a thrill when my eyes meet its - um - form? I just know when something is for me. I feel it in my stomach. And that is how I felt when I saw the suitcase. In fact, the previous day I had quickly stopped by and seen it and ignored that initial attraction. Perhaps I was tired or something although not too tired to buy a pair of jeans and four tops (on special!!!). But last night in bed, before my eyes closed and I snuggled down into the bed linen the image of the camel coloured case with all its little zippy and pockety things drifted into my head and went with me into dream land.

So, today I drove straight to DFO and then made my way to the luggage store and there it was - the suitcase in the window, opened up and exposing all its little nooks and crannies to me. I knew it was waiting for me to inspect it. And inspect it I did. Opened every pocket that could be opened, unzipped and zipped all the zips, wheeled it around, read the label and got a bit excited at the 15 year warranty and the 50% off price. "I'll take it" I told the girl. She then got a new and untouched one for me (yeah, like I am not buying something that other people have fiddled with thank you) from out the back and I left there with my new case being wheeled behind me. It even came with its own combination lock. And the camel (NOT beige) colour will match all of my clothes which is important.

I hope it is big enough....because I surely know how to fill a suitcase when on holiday!

Ciao

LC

Leg Magic

I bought one.

On Ebay.

One third of the cost that was advertised on television.

Normally I would not confess to such a crime but since I am a person who actually uses such silly things I don't mind.

I used it.

It hurts and makes me look silly whilst partaking in the activity. The movement of using it is not quite as fluid as is suggested on daytime television (which I normally don't watch but was home one day and saw it blah blah yeah yeah)

All in the pursuit of lean and strong legs and pert buttocks. So, so sad indeed. Being over forty and pert are not two things that really go together.

And it folds away and fits under the bed! That was a selling point. It has to fit under the bed.

Excuse me whilst I put it away - under the bed.

Ciao

LC

Meat Pie, Footy and Beer - 3 very Aussie Experiences

In response to the encouraging Meme from http://grahamettridge.blogspot.com/m/ to list ten Australian experiences and, over the next week or two intend to think of what I consider to be ten very culturally Australian "things".

Now for me, this is not as easy as it seems as I am a first generation Australian. My parents are from Denmark and I was brought up as such. In the 1960's you just cannot imagine what an outsider that made my family. The term Wog and Refuge was used often. The food I had a school was stinky and weird, my mum dressed me long pants which was outrageous and, this is the worst, she forgot to tell me that in Australia the "F" word was not okay so I did get into trouble for saying it in prep more than once. It was difficult to fit in but we all just did what we did.

Since it is the season, I have to say the the biggest Aussie attraction is Footy. Or should I say, Australian Rules Football. It starts in March and involves kicking an oval shaped ball around and giant field trying to get a goal between two posts. Lots of jumper stretching (aka tackling) and jumping up high to catch the ball (know as a mark). Sixteen football teams play against each other until two teams fight it out in a Grand Final Match one September Saturday at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) which is almost revered here. People are generally one eyed supporters and talk about it ALL the time. Personally I hate footy and the very male and blokey culture that seems to go with it. The football players are well know for recreational drug use (which they always deny until really found out) and treating women very poorly (sex objects etc). On the day of the Grand Final the shops are empty, the roads are silent and many stores CLOSE in the afternoon. If you walk down the street you hear the sound of the football match drifting out from televisions in houses that you pass. The smell of BBQ's fills the air as people gather together to watch "the game".

If you go to the footy you can bet you will be either painted in your teams colours or dressed or, unfortunately for those who watch, both painted and dressed. Lots of words like "On Ya" and "Yeah" and "Go the Hawks" or "Go the Saints" are heard screeched out from the crowd. The food which is in plentiful supply at great cost is mostly the "Aussie Meat Pie" and the drink of the day is a "beer" and lots of it to ensure that the worst type of behaviour will be on display by the end of the match. People have been known to be so into the game that they will have a pee in the stands rather than miss one precious moment of the game. The meat pie has to be able to be eaten with one hand to enable the other hand to be free for holding a can of beer.

The following Monday will involve lots of detailed talking about the how the teams fared over the weekend and many "experts" will blab incessantly about it around the office kitchen. Then the latter half of the week is spent trying to predict which teams will win on the weekend which brings me to Footy Tipping. This is when loads of people in an office environment try to correctly guess as many wins as they can over the football season. The prize being something like a slab of beer or a meat tray. Interestingly enough, for someone who does not like football, I am second best at footy tipping this year out of 18 people.

Hey, don't get me wrong, footy is good fun in one way and to go to at least one match is something to try. But, you either love it or hate it and those that love it hate those that hate it - if you get my drift. But there is nothing more Australian than a meat pie, a cold beer and a game of footy.

On Ya!

Ciao

LC

Friday 31st August

Today S walked to school on his own for the first time. I walked him to the busy road and crossed with him and then said good bye and watched his lone form walk up the road towards his school.

He had asked me a few times if he could walk on his own and I had said no. I wasn't ready. Then yesterday he asked me again and suggested I could walk him over the busy road if I was worried. I still said no. Then afterwards I thought about it, talked about and wondered if perhaps I was not being fair. So I rang him back and said okay, he could do it.

After dropping him off I walked back home, got in my car and just did a little drive by to check he was on track. There he was, bag on his back, walking along almost to school. I tooted the horn and waved. He waved back and as I drove off I could see him looking away and watching the world around him. I was forgotten for that moment and he was in a place of his own where a mother really does not belong.

Growing up is hard for parents. Children move on, feel the need to break away and to take new steps. As a mother I suppose at times I struggle with it but his need for freedom far outweighs my need to keep him close.

I wonder if he will feel the need to make his bed, do his own washing and take out the rubbish bin soon.

Ciao
LC

Music Lesson

Today I took S to have his piano lesson. He hates piano because he would rather play Runescape online or watch television. I am not negotiable about piano for a couple of reasons. Firstly, he is naturally musical and piano comes easy to him. Secondly, I think all children need to do one thing they hate on a regular basis to condition them to the life of being an adult. Perhaps I will rephrase that. We all have to learn to do the hard work to get the good results. Computer games and television shows are very quick with providing a child (and adult) with a quick fix and not much effort has to go into partaking in them - although some may say computer games are challenging. I need S to see that if he puts in the effort, the personal reward is very satisfying. He has stopped whinging about piano after I told him to get over it.

So, today I am sitting in that room where he goes to have lessons, watching the dust drift through the bright sunshine streaming through the windows and I bend down to fiddle with my shoelace and notice, out of the corner of my eye, a little white origami swan sitting beside the leg of the couch I am perched upon. It is only about 3/4 of an inch high. I pick it up and look at the effort that has done into making it and decide to keep it, which was naughty, but I figured it was going to be swept up by the piano teacher later on.

It made me realise that another parent had sat in that same spot and was possibly as bored as I was.

It is now sitting on my desk at home.

Ciao

LC

Happy Dog

Here is a picture of Jesse our resident dog at work. She is getting old now (for a Bull Mastiff) - about 7.5 years and terribly friendly which can be a problem as she weighs in at about 70kgs so an enthusiatic dog wiggle can knock you over. And it is best to steer clear of her after she has had a drink of water - major slag event. You have no idea how long a string of saliva can get when hanging off a very droopy dog face. Plus they hang in multiples - so disgustingly funny but we do clean her up out of kindness.

I love her saggy face and the fact that she howls when I come into work (not just me actually but I can pretend she loves me). She has weeties for breakfast and sometimes the residue sits on her big, black nose all day - I want to be that unconcerned one day. Oh, I might be when I get older but it won't be so cute then.

One thing though, I am so glad I do not have to do poo patrol after her - she aint that cute.

Ciao

LC

Guilt Twaddle

I am inclined to feel guilty about anything and everything.

Having a shower longer than 4 minutes in these days of water restrictions - guilty

If I throw something that could be recycled into the general rubbish bin - guilty

Toss some food out because it is not eaten - "what a dreadful waste: guilty.

Take a holiday - feel guilty.

Eat something sweet - double guilt.

Miss more than two days exercise - super guilt.

Send S to school with a non home made biscuit or cake in his lunchbox - bad mother guilt.

Have the ducted heating on 21c - eco vandal guilt.

Only breast fed for 6 weeks - bad, bad mother "took me ten years to get over the shame of it" guilt especially when all the mother's in my group were Earth Mother's who breastfed for three years.

Had a C-section when I had a baby because I had a choice and was scared - lazy and bad mother guilt.

Only had one child (no matter the medical reasons and the fact I have him is a miracle indeed) - did not try hard enough guilt and now your child will be lonely guilt (like, children with siblings are never lonely as adults)

Broke stupid Telly Tubby PC CD in half because it had a scratch on it (and I hated the sound of it after hearing it 300 times) - bad mother "how could you" and "I have never gotten over it mum" guilt - 7 years later

Tipping a glass of water over S when he really, really pissed me off - bitch mum guilt but I still think he deserved it.

Spend the whole day to myself doing what I want (shopping for clothes, books etc) - secret pleasure guilty which isn't really that bad.

Sitting here doing this when I know I have to tackle the stupid laundry crap - hmmm, nope, can't seem to conjure up much guilt about that one.

Ciao

LC

Holiday's and Luggage

Every time I go on a holiday of sorts I feel compelled to buy some sort of luggage. It may be a new wet pack or a new make up bag or even a new suitcase. Next week we are going for four days to Noosa and I really do need a new suitcase, the old one having disemboweled itself on the last holiday due to being over packed. Plus S needs a new suitcase as his is a little bit babyish now he is older. So that means I need to make a decision on two cases.

So I go to the shop that sells every conceivable type of bag you can imagine and I can feel a level of anxiety arising that happens whenever I shop for anything. Do I go for the hard case, the soft duffle type case on wheels, the kind of in between soft and hard, do I need matching cabin bag, should I get the pink because I love pink or the black because it is practical and the pink might look twee and am I too old to look twee? Do I get a make up case to match? Is the case big enough or should I get one too big so I can fill it when I go back home? Is that handle strong enough to pull it along? Should I buy locks to go with it? How much should I spend? Should I buy top of the range which has a 15 year warranty but then means I feel guilty every time I want to buy another bag? Or buy cheap but okay quality and then feel like an eco vandal when it dies and I chuck it out? So I hang around the shop for about 45 minutes feeling each case, then taking it for a wheel around, the opening all the zips, then looking inside them, then thinking that I may be able to get it cheaper somewhere else, then seeing what matches, then getting the feeling that I should buy things in three for some reason or four to even things up (wet pack, make up, cabin bag, suitcase) and then I start to feel so overwhelmed I have to leave the shop and have a coffee and then go home.

Then I feel shallow for even worrying about my luggage because on a scale of 1 to 10 it of things worth getting anxious about it really should not rate at all.

Hmmmm, maybe I can buy something up there?

Need a cup of tea.

Ciao

LC

Laundry Twaddle

Apparantly when planes come in to land they may go round and round in a landing pattern until there is room for them. A safety thing.

My washing has a landing pattern.

It sits on the floor during the week because the washbasket in the bedroom is full.

That basket is full because due to the fact I have not been able to empty the wash basket in the laundry.

I have been unable to empty that basket as the washing machine seems to have a constant load in it waiting to be emptied.

However, I am unable to empty the machine due to the fact the clothes horse is loaded up (making my dining room look like a chinese laundry) and still has wet/damp articles of clothing hanging on it. Unfortunately I have been unable to hang anything outside since K restrung the clothes line and now if I hang anything on it heavier than a shirt it hangs down to the ground...which would mean clothes getting dirty again, which means more washing etc etc. The spring loaded mechanism has broken in the clothes line which means I have to go and spend more money for a new clothes line.

But even when what is hanging on the clothes horse dries it hangs there longer because the ironing basket is full and there is a limit to how high I can pile it before it tips over. So I do some ironing and then unload the clothes horse, then load it up with more washing and so on and so forth.

Great.

Ciao

LC

Fart Twaddle

In our house farting is allowed. Well, allowed implies that a discussion entailed prior to the event. So, let me say that farting is a fact of life and it is just one of those things. Either you do or you don't.

But, S has created this "thing" that has to happen when someone farts. One has to say "Safety" then "Badger (then whistle), three times no pokes". If one does not say that then the other person says "Doorknob" and proceeds to punch the farter until the "Code Words" are said.

It is most annoying. And I don't know why I feel compelled to write about it. But, seeing the words in front of me makes me realise how hideously STUPID it is.

Ho hum indeed.

Ciao

LC

Friday Twaddle

When I look at other people's blogs/writings I get enormous pleasure out of even the most mundane blabs.

In a world of hyper professionalism in journalism it is nice to read the spontaneous musings of a person who just leads what appears to be a normal life. It proves that way beyond all the hype of Idol, Big Brother, Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here and other similar low grade shows, there are people who really just are not interested in their 15 minutes of fame. There are people who just want to write and chat and communicate in a world that sometimes appears to be very contrived.

For someone who may be shy or perhaps not a great networker, the internet is a great place to express yourself. In looking for like minded people who perhaps who share interests that are out of the "normal" box, the internet provides so much satisfaction. Coming across people who have a talent for writing or something with an artistic slant always makes blogging just so much more than a whole lot of online diaries begging to be read. Blogs are a great way for people with heads full of stuff to unload and allow more thoughts to come rushing through.

In the Saturday newspaper I read there is a section where well known authors write about their observations on life and relationships. Now sometimes they are good, but sometimes, when people become very popular they are occassionally inclined to become a bit too good - if you know what I mean. Too slick, too professional, too predictable. Sort of like having the same old movie star appear in movie after movie (Nicole Kidman!!!) and you hanker for something natural and fresh. Something unspoilt before popularity takes hold. Someone who is still within themselves and unafraid to make a mistake.

So, that is why I like reading blogs - there is always something fresh to be exposed to (good or bad).

I suppose I should do something - not sure what but I will think of it soon.

Ciao

LC

Linda Growing Up

Baking

I really must make a few small comments about baking cakes.

Firstly, it is most annoying to plan on making something with chocolate chips in it only to discover that S and K have, out of desperation, eaten two 250gm bags of cooking chocolate.

Also, when I bake cup cakes two things happen. The first being that in two days S and K will eat 20 of them. The second is that S thinks it is fine to leave the paper cup thingy lying around so I get this happening.

Might make an upside down apple tea cake tonight. At least there are only crumbs left around the place.

Also have to hide the choc chips in a better place.

Ciao

LC

Two Little Things of Mine

This is a picture of two of my many favorite things - if you can have many favorites that is.

One is a little fabric covered box with a whole lot of small buttons in it. I bought this when I was ten at a school fair/fete. I remember the excitement of finding it and counted out the buttons when I got home. It has been with me 33 years now and I noticed that when I bought the box I wrote down that there were 33 buttons in it. Originally the box would have held collar studs so I imagine it has been around a while - can't say I have actually ever seen a collar stud myself.

The second item is a tiny Noah's Ark set up. These teeny pieces are made of pewter and hand painted. I bought them in 1994 in England at Covent Garden on a sunny day. The shop was small and full of these little hand made things which were terribly pricey but oh so delicious. It is quite heavy despite the small size.

Both the items are sitting on a VCR box so you can get an idea of the size.

They are both so personal to me and represent a time when I was conciously happy and not just exisiting in a space somewhere.

Ciao

LC