Health Food And Going Grey

I went to the hairdressers today.

It has been six weeks since I last went. Normally I have gone every four weeks but as I am embarking on going lighter (say maybe all grey or pale blonde) with my hair I am stretching out the visits to allow for more regrowth.

Going grey is not for the faint hearted I can tell you. There have been a few days when I have looked at the grey and just groaned to myself. The next visit is in seven weeks and I am sure to have some seriously bad hair days coming up then.

But if I want to have hair like this:

The divine Emmy Lou Harris who does it so well, or, like this woman somewhere in Spain (how lovely is that hair) - I am just going to have to suffer the trauma of looking at the grey coming through.

Someone said to me that once I go grey I won't have to go to the hairdressers any more. Ah, well, if I want to go the glamorous grey, I will still be going to the hairdressers every six weeks or so.

After the hairdressers I went to have some lunch.

Ages ago I did this post about health food and must have forgotten about how disgusting health food is because I went again to the SAME shop and had lunch.

I ordered pumpkin salad, green tea and some sweet and healthy nut ball thinking how healthy I was being.

As a rule I LOVE pumpkin. It is my favorite vegetable. But this dish, all mixed in with coconut and green stuff, well, a bit too healthy for me.

There is a certain sensation that happens when I am eating this type of food. The first few mouthfuls are fine and then suddenly the gag reflex comes into effect. It is not the taste as much as the healthiness of it. Maybe the texture. I cannot explain it but at a certain point I just know that another mouthful will induce a vomit.

As for that nut, seedy, coconut sickly sweet thing on the plate that I bought instead of the vegan carob chocolate brownie, well, let me say that the $3.50 I paid for it was bit stiff. It was pretty horrible, but I ate it anyway despite it looking very unappetizing.

When I came home I opened the tin of lollies that we filled in anticipation of Halloween coming up and scoffed a few unhealthy, sugary treats.

Mmmmmm, didn't they hit the spot.

I fell so much healthier now.

Ciao

LC

Skirt

Last week I finished sewing my skirt.

I modified it quite a bit from the pattern. Added the pocket and put a border on the hem.

All in all I was pleased. Today was so warm it was great to wear it.


Now I am going to make another one.

Aline skirts are so easy.

I even managed to put the zip in all by myself.

Ciao
LC

Big Sister

My sister in law has discovered a way to get her husband (my brother) to do things is to say to him;

I'll tell Linda!

Apparently I am more able to convince him to do things than her.

Today she rang me and asked if I could do a big sister thing for her.

She had made an appointment for him to go to the doctor's and get a referral for the sleep clinic.

He snores and probably has sleep apnoea.

He refused point blank to go when she told him about the appointment. They argued about it when I was there on Sunday doing bookwork.

So, she rings me today and asks if I could ring him up and tell him to go.

"Well, I will try but I doubt he is going to listen to me," I said (thinking she was really over estimating my big sister power).

I called him up, chatted away and brought up the appointment issue.

"Nope, not interested, forget it, got better things to do," he said.

"Okay, fair enough. But you know, J loves you and is just concerned about your health. It is not a big thing is it? I can see that you could not be bothered, but it is going to give her peace of mind I guess. Besides, if it shows your snoring is no big deal you can say "I told you so" for a long, long time," I said and reminded him that I also cared for him and his health.

We changed the subject and talked about other stuff.

Then, as we ended the phone call he said he would go the the "stupid" doctor's.

I was astonished.

Now my sister in law is going to think I have the almighty power.

I will get phone calls like;

Can you get him to hang out the washing?

Tell him to clean the toilet.

Get him to clean the kitchen!

Er, no good.

I cannot even get myself to do that sort of stuff.

Ciao
LC

Sometimes

Sometimes I am not very lovable.

Or maybe I just feel I am not.

When I get angry I think I am a bad, mean and ungrateful shit.

But I don't actually act unlovable, I just feel it.

Then feel guilty for having mean spirited thoughts.

When in reality, I am probably just having an off day or perhaps other people are.

Which is fine.

And does not mean I have failed somewhere along the line.

I am going to be right now.

Before my brain sighs loudly.

Ciao
LC

Doomed

After reading this article in the Daily Mail today I realise that there is no hope for me morally or otherwise.

So, the fact I actually read the Daily Mail online suggests just how totally amoral I am.

I have a confession to make. Not that you actually need to hear it, but I am going to put it on record anyway.

I had to break the no farting rule in my car.

You see, that is all well and good if you are only in the car for around ten minutes, but a long drive can be, you know, a bit restrictive.

Naturally I have not actually informed my son and husband of the broken rule as the last thing I want is for THEM to fart in my car.

However, this morning as I opened the door of my car I realised that if I am going to fart in the car at night after exercise class I do run the risk of being caught out if someone other than me opens it the next morning.

If you know what I mean.

Oink

Ciao
LC

Blow Fly

In warmer weather we get more flies here.

They hang around your face if you are outside without insect repellent. If the door opens only slightly they will dart in and annoy the crap out of you.

We have the little boring old black fly that just hangs out everywhere. You just have to keep the bench tops clean and free of food or you can bet one will be on your sandwich very quickly. Once inside they will hover around lights, your face and other random places. Picnics and BBQ's are bad news in summer.

Once, when I went to Alice Springs, I ate some by accident. I thought the pikelet had sultanas in it but alas, it was just some black flies that had found their way into my mouth as I opened it to insert the food. Oh, I can still recall biting them thinking it was a juicy sultana. When I realised what it was I spat everything out in front of strange people.

You would not believe, but in the middle of nowhere - and I mean nowhere - you can get out of a car and hundreds of flies will zoom down upon you. Which results in some serious hand waving. This activity is known as the Great Australian Salute.

But, worse than the little black fly is the big, fat, brown blow fly.

Apart from the size of the horrible thing (about one centimetre) is the NOISE of it and the fact it lays maggots the moment it dies.

They buzz, buzz and buzz. A horrible drone. The sound of a lazy summer's day.

Or, the sound of a hot night in your bedroom if you left the window open and don't have fly wire (my house). Then you have the mosquito and the blow fly keeping you awake.

Now and then they have some sort of psycho attack and buzz madly around and bang off the window and your head if it is in the way of their flying.

In my office we get so many of them. Four or five a day turn up and hang out near my corner. Crawl on the window and the buzz like a crazy kook fly. They are disgusting.

If you spray them they go berserk. Their death throes are long and drawn out. They end up dead somewhere on the window sill or floor.

My mother used fly paper. Don't do it. It is disgusting on a hot day as they slide down the sticky surface and collect at the bottom of it all.

Sometimes I like to use a ruler to hit a blowfly across the room and maybe near someone's desk.

However, if you upset the fly, it then does the crazy buzzing thing and you end up wishing you had just left it alone.

Last week I whacked one with a clear plastic envelope thing. A big hard whack against the window where it then disemboweled itself on the thing I was holding. Needless to say I almost vomited.

Unfortunately, despite global warming and the demise of many forms of insect life, the blow fly appears to be made of the same stuff as cockroaches.

More of them.

The sound of summer.

Bzzzzzzzz.

Ciao
LC

Note To Waist

Stop getting thicker.

Stop getting jiggly.

Stop making my jeans feel all wrong.

Stop doing that thing when I sit down. You know, where you kind of make yourself known by just, I don't know, blobbing around or something.

Even though I eat carefully, exercise thoughtfully and do all good things that middle aged women are meant to do to avoid weight gain you just keep hanging around like an unwanted smell.

In fact, worse than hanging around, you hang on. Hang on like a man trying not to fall out of an open aeroplane door without a parachute. Desperately.

Not only that, I want to ask you "what are you eating when I am not eating?" because I know that based on my BMI and my BMR and my calorie intake versus energy output you should not even be there. I have done the figures you sneak. I know the facts!

Yes, yes, give me the old oestrogen is running out and therefore the body increases fat content to hang on the to bits of oestrogen still around. But, quite frankly, I am happy to head into middle age sans oestrogen if it means I have a flat stomach.

Really, truly, I do not need to embrace peri menopause with a thick waist. It's not healthy to stay with me so why not do me a favour and go away.

Of course, it did not help that I saw a video of me from 2007 and you were not there quite as much.

You were in hiding or something.

Go away and hide again.

Ciao
LC

Photos

Here is a photo of the mantle clock I bought on Ebay. It has the most beautiful ticking sound.

I am reminded of a friend's place I used to stay at when I was very little. They had a ticking mantle clock in the dining room and I could hear it when I woke up in the night. It chimed every fifteen minutes (which perhaps explains why I woke up in the middle of the night). But it was very comforting to listen to.

Last night, however, I had to turn off the chime and shut the door to the room as my son could hear it and complained. When we got up we turned the chimes back on. He looked into the interior of it, fascinated by the simple mechanics of it.

Here is the little desk I bought.

The drawers have little ink stains inside them. Each drawer has hand made dovetail joins at the front and back. Very finely done which shows the skill and pride of the person who made it. All the fittings are original. I wish I knew more about it.

I have not actually put anything into the drawers and cupboards yet. The last thing I want is for it to become a dumping spot.

This is me on my day bed. Although not that comfortable to actually sit on, it is great for lounging across to read or watch television. We had to compromise on having a spare bed if needed without actually having a bedroom set up.

Looking at the photo I realise the mirror is not clean. Actually, I cannot recall the last time I bothered to clean it. Perhaps if I leave it to be hazy it will be like a filter over a camera and make me look younger!

I just want to say how much I hate taking a photo of myself. I took a few, then a few more, then deleted each one and finally said "oh, this will do". I am not exactly sure what constitutes a good photo - but in my mind any photo of me will never be good enough. I think I speak for everyone when I say that. It is like listening to your own voice. Just cringeworthy.

This afternoon I am in here on and off through the day whilst my son and his friend play Xbox and watch silly dvd's. I think they are eating things they should not (biscuits etc.) but I am not going to get in a bother about it today.

I have already been for a walk up the street to do the weekly grocery shopping - dragging behind me my shopping trolley. It was a bit overcast and the wind was fresh. I felt invigorated by it all, even walking up the hill and pulling all the groceries behind me.

I feel a bit better today. Which is a relief for me.

I felt very encouraged by everyone's comments on my blog the other day. Sometimes objective words from those who care but don't live in your pocket, make a difference.

Now off to have a cup of tea.

Then some reading.

Ciao
LC

Today Was Saturday

I woke up this morning feeling at ease. My nights sleep was quite good thanks to a sleeping tablet. As much as I hate to take one, it does help greatly to get a solid and deep sleep.

Decided that as I had a swimming lesson in the middle of the day I would not wash my hair or put on make up. There is a sense of freedom about not having to do those two activities now and then.

My son had to have a hair cut as he looked like a womble. There are some things my son hates doing. Putting on shoes on the weekend because he hates tying shoelaces. Having a shower. Getting his hair cut. By the time he agrees to getting one he really looks like a goof. He wants to grow it long but refuses to use hair product and ends up looking like a giant three year old with bad bed hair.

This morning he woke up with a face like fizz. Mopey, complaining and mournful. He sat in the barber's chair with not a hint of a smile on his face as the woman cut his hair. It was almost embarrassing. We had breakfast in a little cafe and he cheered up a bit. Nothing like food to fill a little boy with some joy. Especially if there is a chocolate milk shake involved.

Later on my poor husband had to go on yet another journey with me to pick up something I had bought on Ebay. A small mantle clock and a captain's desk from the same place. The man who owned them was moving to Bali to live and was selling his wares.

The house was in a down suburb. When we got there it was open for inspection and only the real estate agent was there. He let us in and we looked around the rooms whilst we waited for the daughter to arrive. The house smelt of smoke and all the walls were yellow from smoke stain.

It was sad really. Shabby and filthy kitchen, tired bathroom with two worn towels hanging on pegs. His bedroom was messy, clothes strewn across the floor and spilling out of a wardrobe. The bed was untidly made and because it had no bedhead there was the mark of someones head on the wall behind. He must have sat in bed reading and smoking.

In the bedroom was the desk. It had been lovingly restored and was of a beautiful, glossy cedar. It had been made in the early 1900's and built specificially to fit in the confines of a ships cabin. He must have treasured it and as I looked at it I wondered how he could let it go.

As I wandered around I looked at his small collection of belongings. A small bookshelf with an assortment of woodworking books and adventure novels. There was a framed black and white photo of him sitting on the filthy mantlepiece. Draped over the photo frame was a tie with a coat of arms embroidered on it. I wondered what it meant. A couple of packs of cards with semi naked women on them was stacked nearby. I wondered what he was doing moving to another country. Selling all his wordly goods, his house and going to live so far away.

It was strange. The whole place was surreal. There was the filth of the house, a tired lounge suite, yellowed curtains pulled shut, grimy carpet and messy rooms. And then there were a few particularly lovely things that he obviously cared for enough to look after.

I wondered about this man and what he was like. How he showed a sense of tenderness towards the beauty of a few bits and pieces and yet could sit in a house so dirty. Even the garden outside was overgrown and very, very scruffy. There was a sense of contradiction about it all. Or maybe I was reading something into the whole thing that was not there. Who knows.

On the way home we had to open the windows of the car as the smell of cigarette smoke had permeated the surface of the mantle clock and desk. The clock was on my lap and with the warm sunshine coming through the windscreen and onto the wood of the clock, the smell was vile. It may take a few days to settle.

So, now I have this little desk with a vague history in my possesion. It was cheaper than buying a flat pack desk from Ikea and so much more lasting and beautiful. The mantle clock is in the same room, ticking away quietly and chiming every fifteen minutes. Of course, the chime is going to be turned off at night.

When I got home I sent an email to his daughter and asked her to let him know that the desk and clock were going to a good home and would be greatly treasured. I though he may want to know.

That was my day.

I enjoyed it.

Ciao
LC

Being Anxious SUCKS

For a while now, even prior to the recent surgery, I have been mildly out of sorts.

It has escalated due to the chronic lack of sleep that has plagued me for longer than ideal. I had been to the doctors about two months ago to get full blood tests to work out why I was so fatigued.

The last two or three weeks have been particularly difficult as I have had severe anxiety which, as many people would know, is hard work to live with.

Thinking about it, I have been struggling a bit with the hovering sensation of depression for almost a year. Since having the hysterectomy actually.

Having had more than one experience of major depression, there is no way I want to go down that track and am very mindful of doing the right thing to avoid it.

It sniffs around like a dog waiting to bite and most of the time I can push through it. However, the one thing that can tip me over is a long period of poor sleep. If I sleep well, I can avoid having to go on anti depressants.

Anyway, this week I had to go to the doctors to talk about a plan of action as I can tell you I was in a pretty rotten frame of mind.

We worked out a plan of going on sleeping tablets to get the sleep pattern back on track.

If the depression was being triggered by bad sleep, then getting into a good sleep routine again would help a great deal to getting me back into a positive frame of mind.

However, if the poor sleep pattern was being triggered by the depression then I would have to go on anti depressants again as no amount of good sleep will help.

After two weeks I will go back to him for a review.

So I have had two nights with better sleep and feel a bit better, but still have chronic anxiety which is just a dreary pest.

Even if I get the anxiety down to a mild level, it takes something very small to flare it up again.

Then, today I get a phone call from my husband whilst I was at work that made my anxiety levels shoot through the roof.

A couple of years ago I did this post about an ex. Not just about him, but a place I lived in.

Well, this guy lives nearby and today knocked on my front door. My husband was home and answered it. This man wanted to know if I was alright. Then ranted on about all sorts of things. All of which are too disjointed to go into detail about. But it was ALL very weird.

The conversation went on for about five minutes before he just walked off.

My husband was pissed off. He rang me to tell me, not because he was jealous or anything, but he was concerned for me. I was concerned for me. Now I feel my personal space has been invaded because "Mr Creepy" came into my home space and I think that is not good.

He last knocked on my door almost ten years ago. Hopefully another ten years will pass before he does it again.

So, tomorrow my husband is getting a camera out at the front door because he does not want my son or me to open it if "Mr Creepy" is there. You can never tell what goes on in the minds of some people. I feel a bit unsafe actually and that is one feeling I don't like at all as it is out of my control.

If that wasn't bad enough, at about 8pm I get a phone call on my mobile from the Tax Office to ask some questions about work items.

What the FUCK!

I was very polite, told them what they wanted to know and then hung up.

Then spent the next half an hour deep breathing my anxiety attack away.

My husband said to try see the funny side of it all.

I am still looking.

Cannot see no "ha ha's" come to mind yet.

Sigh.

Ciao
LC

Keeping Warm

I have not had much interesting to add to blog world lately. Apart from some silly twaddle now and then.

I was on Ebay tonight looking for something to buy (or cheer me up) and came up with a fabulous article of clothing to wear when overseas in Wintry January.

I think the yellow version is on limited supply so I may not get one as blue is not my colour and the green is a bit drab. Are they not funny little outfits? Nice and warm and you can sleep in it at the close of each day.

In fact, you could wear it all the time.

I think they would pack down easily into a suitcase and weigh next to nothing.

Ciao
LC

Groovy Dance

If there was ever a tune I would love to dance to, in public and wearing the right outfit it would be the theme to I Dream Of Jeannie.



Every time I hear it I want to get up and dance to it. A silly, bottom wiggling dance at that. Sometimes I do it and sometimes I don't.

You should try it.

Ciao
LC

Ask Any Question

I am not sure if you have noticed, but when you search for something on Google it will come up with a long list of suggestions that will finish off your query.

So, if I want to know how many beans in a cup of coffee, I only have to type in the words "how many beans" and a long list of suggestions for me to choose from will be below those three words. I can then either choose on of those questions or continue to finish my own version of it.

This shows me a two things.

Firstly, I am not the only person who has asked this same question. This proves that I am like everyone else. Totally unoriginal. Although, I did decide to type in "how many calories in tinea" and nobody had asked that one before.

And, whilst there is no suggestion that comes up with I type in "how many calories in poo" there was one coming up for "how many calories in urine".

Secondly, there are some really, really strange questions out there that are being asked.

My son will type in a few words just to see what results he can get from those few words.

He typed in "Can you poo" and up came a long list of previously asked questions one of which included "can you poop out of your mouth".

This mindless activity of searching for silly questions has us both laughing for ages.

I ask you, who on earth is asking some of these questions and why are there so many results available for those very questions.

Seriously, I might type in some strange things but nothing, nothing would ever match some of the results that come up.

Although, there was a good one that came up that made me laugh.

It was "how big should an engagement ring be".

I wonder who would ask that? The prospective husband wanting to make sure he gets it right. Or the prospective wife wanting to make sure she is not marrying a tight wad.

Ciao
LC

Shopping Again

Last week at work was a particularly crappity crap one. No one reason. Just one of them dreary weeks.

But I broke up the dreariness by spending money. I know that sounds awfully shallow and weak, but it helped. Some people eat a piece of pie when they are having a bad time, but I like to treat myself. It does not happen too often and I don't have to spend much so I figure it is okay.

What did I buy?

I bought a trolley thingy called a Hook And Go.

Here is a photo of it loaded up today. The accompanying leg belongs to my husband as he had to pull it up the steps.
I like to walk up to the street to do the shopping but I am limited in what I can carry back.

Over the years I have looked at various ways to carry my shopping. I am not so keen on the usual market trolleys, jeeps and similar modes of carrying for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, the handles are always far too short and I have to stoop when I pull them behind me. Secondly, I do not like the thought that I have to load all the food on top of each itself then have to get home and unpack the semi squished contents.

So, after lots of searching the Internet I came up with this device.

Today I used it for the first time. Walked the almost 2kms down to the shops and loaded up the bags. I did almost a weeks shopping and then walked home dragging the goodies behind me. It was great exercise and very satisfying for me.

When I got home I just unloaded everything so easily. Next time I go to a Farmer's Market I will take it and just unload the bags into the car when I go home. The trolley itself folds up and goes into the car. It has a similar folding design as a golf cart.

So, there you go. That was my treat for the week.

Oh, and some make up online. But that does not qualify as a treat.

Make up is part of my maintenance regime.

Ciao
LC

Smooth Sales

I was inspired to do this post after reading Topiary Cow's experience when shopping at the mall.

When I go to the big shopping centres I do my very best to avoid being accosted by a sales person positioned right in the middle of the main walkway selling some sort of beauty product.

Usually it will be young women touting the virtues of changing my entire make up range over to minerals. Which, incidentally, I did. At great cost by the way.

But in the past eighteen months or so, these beauty stalls are run by handsome young men.

Usually of foreign descent and incredibly good looking and charming, they oil their way across the polished stone floors and manage to charm the dollars out of ones purse with promises of youthful skin and smooth hands.

In fact, one was so clever that when I tried to use the excuse that my son would be bored and I had to go, he entertained my son with some very fine card tricks. He worked it out, get to the woman via the child.

It has reached a point where I pretend to be talking on my mobile phone, complete with a frown on my face, in the vain hope that they will be scared off by my grumpy face. To no avail. Sure enough, as I enter their radius out they come, smiling and welcoming me with outstretched hands.

However, I finally have had enough.

Firstly, I walked past the very stall from which I purchased the very expensive minerals make up from and one of the girls started speaking to me. Allowing her to do her sales spiel for a while I decided to put an end to it nicely.

"So, do you think my make up would improve if I bought this range?" I asked her.

"Oh, yes. Your skin would be so much more smooth and youthful," she insisted.

"Well, that is interesting since it just happens to be your brand of make up that I am wearing right now as we speak," I replied.

Silence.

More silence followed by a shifting of eyes and then a drift back to the stall before I walked off.

Was that mean?

Then, last week, my walk was interrupted by one of them handsome men at the skin care stall. I let him go on and on about the eye cream, the anti wrinkle cream and also the primer which he guaranteed would make my skin look smooth and bright. Which is a crock of shit because I bought it last time and it did nothing of the sort.

He went on a bit longer and then paused smilingly, waiting for some positive reaction from me.

I looked him straight in the face and said;

"No thanks, I think I look absolutely great just the way I am"

He laughed.

Nothing else he could do really was there?

I have been thinking of other responses I could come up with next time.

"Are you saying I look old?"

"What are you saying? That I am ugly?"

Do you know, if every woman woke up tomorrow morning and said to herself "Hey, I look great without make up" that would be the end of the beauty industry.

What a thought.

However, those words will never come out of my mouth.

I would hate to be responsible for job losses.

Ciao
LC

Cup Chat

Last year I did a post about my 17th wedding anniversary in which I mentioned a story about a set of cups we had.

Below is a paragraph from the post;

When we were first married we had a set of six blue and white striped mugs (Cornish Ware). Over the years five have been demolished by me in various temper tantrums. The fifth one was broken years and years ago. We made a joke that when cup number six breaks we have to get a divorce. Cup number six has a cracked handle which looks a bit fragile. I have found where to get six more mugs just in case.

Unfortunately that last mug broke into pieces not long ago and we made a joke about organising a divorce. But I could not get the same style of mug anymore as they had sold from the place I had seen them.

Anyway, today I went to the shops to find my husband a birthday present as I was a bit upset I had not been able to give him one yesterday.

Lo' and behold, there were the same Cornish Blue mugs for sale that we had had for years.

So of course I bought two of them. I would have bought six, but they were $29.95 each.

I got home and gave them to my husband who unwrapped them and said.....

"Oh, wow, great........now I am stuck with you for another ten years"

Tomorrow I am going to buy another FIFTY of the mugs.

He will really feel the years roll on then.

Ciao
LC

Award Time

Presious over at Tru Thots has given me an award for comments I have left on her blog from time to time. In fact, the description given is that I am tactful with the truth. My motto is to do ones best to deliver truth in the nicest possible way.

I love that Presious is always working towards making life better for those around her and also rising above some significant difficulties - not the least being a single parent to four children.

It is blogs from people like Presious and others that make me realise how people face difficult situations in the best possible light. And, better than that, just how many lovely people there are in the world (pity so far away).

Being grateful and thankful for what we have but still allowing a genuine moan about it now and then.

I am going to pass this award onto Karen who leaves great comments on my blog. I can almost imagine what it would be like to have a face to face conversation with her over. Unfortunately she lives in Melbourne, Florida and I live in Melbourne, Australia.

That's why blogging is great.

Puts me in contact with people I think I would really love to know in person.

Ciao
LC

A Birthday

Today was my husband's birthday.

He turned fifty six.

I asked him what it was like being 56 and he said it was like being 46, just older. People think we are the same age, which kind of shits me but pleases him no end.

For the first time ever, I had not bought him a birthday present. Not intentionally, but forces were against my plans to buy him the boxed set of The Beatles that has just been released. When I got to the music shop late yesterday the girl said that the first shipment was sold, the second and third shipment was on it's way but also sold.

She asked me if I wanted to pre-order and I said that in a few months the boxed set would be on the shelves in large quantities and I could wait until then.

So, no birthday present but we walked up the street for lunch. My son whined all the way about the heat (20 Celsius). He then whined about his sausage roll as it was not that nice. But he kept eating it, whining in between bites. He whined that I wanted to have a little walk through the local trash and treasure market.

Eventually he ran out of things to whine about and started to enjoy himself. Possibly because we were almost home.

On the way home we passed a block of council owned units that were being fenced off for demolition. There is a new development going up and there was a guy putting up temporary fencing in preparation.

I crossed over the road and spoke to him about all the established plants that were there and asked if I could take some. They were going to be thrown out and I could not stand the thought of those lovely plants being destroyed. The guy was more than happy to let me take what I could in the fifteen minutes left he was going to be there.

The three of us headed back home and K and I came back with the car and a spade. Poor, poor husband had to dig up a few geraniums and a giant rose bush which we wedged in the back of my car. He then had to dig the holes in which to plant the bushes. And, he then had to vacuum out the interior of my car as I am still not allowed to do such strenuous activities.

What a birthday present!

Anyway, when I got home my son and husband had great delight in telling me how the guy was so chatty and friendly to me as I spoke to him. How he had puffed out his chest and pulled back his shoulders and a big happy smile.

"What are you on about?" I said, completely bemused by what they meant.

"Linda, if I had have gone up to him asking the same thing, you can bet he would not have been as happy to see me as he was to see you. In fact, he would have said no had I asked him for plants," my husband said. My son was laughing about it.

"Don't be silly, all guys are like that," I dismissed.

Later on, when my brother and his wife were visiting, K brought up the whole scenario again. My brother was very amused.

"Oh, I just realised something. As we were leaving the guy said he would be happy to get the workers to put aside some plants for me. I almost gave him my phone number but then got distracted. Do you think he was being polite or something else?" I queried.

My husband and brother fell about laughing.

"Oh, you are so naive Linda," my brother told me.

Well, there you go.

I am learning....

Ciao
LC

Saturday Sunshine

Saturday was a lovely day. Warm sunshine. Blue sky

I decided to spend a little bit of time in the front yard and attempt clean up the weedy garden beds. It was a slow process as the weeds were unwilling to leave the earth. I am also still mindful of not being too rigorous with my physical activities.

When I went out to the front yard I heard something I have not heard for a long time. Loud music drifting from a house not far from us.

These days people don't seem to play music that loudly. Well, not near us anyway.

This guy was out in his driveway washing his big, shiny toy - a motorcycle. The music he was playing was straight from the 1970's. Music I have not heard for ages. Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Tammy Wynette and other country and western singers.

The music drifted through the air. It was a pleasure to listen to despite the fact I normally would not listen to this genre of music as a rule. It was as though my mother had found a box of Readers Digest record collection and was playing all of them.

I dug away in the garden, loosened the roots of the weeds and pulled them out as I listened to Johnny Cash walk the line.

Picked a few leaves from the rosemary bush and smelt the aroma as Willie Nelson told me about all the girls he loved before.

Sat in the warm sunshine, back against the vegetable garden and listed to Charlie Rich talking about getting behind closed doors.

Tammy Wynette told me to stand by my man.

Roger Miller was the king of the road with a trailers for sale or rent.

Made small inroads into the neglected garden and big inroads into a sleepy afternoon.

Eventually the warm sunshine, music and smell of the earth did their job and addled my brain.

I went inside and had a cup of tea, my brain in a lovely afternoon fog.

The music stopped as the neighbour took his bike for a ride. Off to enjoy the day.

Without even trying, he had added to my day.

Ciao
LC

The Doll

I was looking on Ebay tonight and came across this doll for sale.

Is that a spooky doll or what?

Would you give it to your little girl to play with?

Ciao
LC

Parking And Traffic Woes

Even though Australia is a big country, most of it is inhabitable. This means that the majority of the population lives along the edges of the country and even then, only a small percentage of those edges can support a population.

I know that I made a mention of just how big it is here in this post.

Because you cannot put a cap on population that easily, the government is always working out ways to squeeze in the ever growing crowds coming in.

One way is to build new suburbs. Soulless and sad places set out in flat, windy and brown vats of land. There is never any decent public transport or appropriate infrastructure in hand with the building and then more roads have to be built to support the increase in car use as everyone is working miles away from where they live.

The houses are cheaply built, often constructed on former rubbish tip sites and ten years down the track there are problems. Recently we had a problem with one of those suburbs when noxious gases started to arise from the ground and people had to move out of their homes while things were fixed. Although, how to fix the problem is another story in itself.

Another way to increase housing availability is to allow people to sell off space in their backyard (paying off their mortgage) and then a builder will construct a house of sorts, taking up every inch of available land possible, and sell it off at great profit.

This has happened in our street a fair bit. At the beginning of these sorts of ventures you could only have a single storey house out the back. Now there are a few double storey places. Just around the corner from us a house was pulled down and three double storey units have been put on the same site, no backyards to speak of.

The big problem now has become parking in our street and those streets around us. There is all day parking on one side, and two hour parking on the other. People who use the train station are usually the ones who will park on the all day side.

Our street is long and if you are at one end of it and see a car at the other end, thus starts the driving forward, moving across to let the other one pass. Sometimes there may be a few cars at each end. If there were parking on one side only you could both drive. Yesterday, I was in a street just near our house and I had to wait for TWO big tankers to make their slow ponderous way from one end of the street to the other. It took for ever and I was really annoyed.

The little side streets I used to nip down to get from home to the shops are so busy and crowded I have to go a longer way to get to where I want to go. Even riding my bike is not always an option because it is unsafe.

The other trend near us is to build three storey homes in the main retail section. The lower level is for retail shops and the upper level is for accommodation. It is happening everywhere and there are times I feel hemmed in when I walk down the street. There is usually enough parking for one car but most of the apartments have two cars they need to park and then one parks out in the street.

My local shopping centre used to be a quiet place. Now it is a main road for cars cutting across from one suburb to another and is so congested you would avoid it at all costs. So much building has been going on that the sweetness of the suburb has kind of gone. Ten years ago nobody knew the suburb I lived in. Not like that now.

This is not a whine or anything. I just feel that things are a bit overcrowded and commercial and environmentally thoughtless.

The argument is that we need lots of people to pay taxes to pay for the infrastructure. I can see part of that argument. But I wonder about the whole validity of what exactly the whole infrastructure is all about.

If they built more railways then we would have less cars. If they built more bike paths then people would ride to work and to the shops which would mean healthier people. If they forced car companies to produce smaller cars we would have less pollution. If they had strict criteria on what crap was allowed to be in food we would have less health problems.

I could go on and on about it, but it is pointless.

Sometimes I think that the bullies at school just grew up and went into politics and continue to impose their thoughtless ideas upon the silent majority.

Needless to say, the traffic was bad today.

That is my gripe for the day.

Ciao
LC

Cake Hog

The other day my son said to me that all my cakes taste the same.

"What, all of them?" I asked.

"Yep, the upside down apple cake, the banana cake, the maderia cake, the hummingbird cake. They taste the same. Home made," he replied.

"Well I cannot help that since I do make them at home. What do you want instead?" I asked.

"I dunno. Chocolate cake with chocolate bits in it and icing on top. Or chocolate chip cookies. They are great. Just like eating crunchy chocolate," he came up with.

"What about fruit cake?" I suggeste.

"No, too healthy. Nothing with fruit. Just chocolate," he told me.

All this was said as he stuffed a giant piece of home made Hummingbird cake in his gob.

Dropping crumbs all over the floor like the proverbial oinkster.

Getting rid of my boring home made cake as fast as he could.

Piggy.

Ciao
LC

Get Down And Boogie

My husband often has music gigs at old people's homes. Or at an RSL (Returned Services League). The musicians play standards. Music from the 1940's usually. Music that most of the residents grew up with.

If they are not too frail, they will get up and dance. With someone.

Unlike today where people kind of gyrate on their own. I am afraid that I am of the gyrating generation.

I am not of the generation that actually touched another person whilst dancing, unless it involved a bit of a grope or something.

That does not mean that I would not be capable of dancing with another, but I don't. This is because my husband cannot dance and it would not be appropriate for me to dance cheek to cheek with another man unless he were gay or something.

Now, keeping in mind that the music my husband plays at the old folks home is music from their youth, I do wonder what music is going to be played when I hit the twilight homes.

Or, more fascinating. what music will be played when my son moves into the land of silver hair.

And, will he get up and dance to rap? Will the songs be as cutting edge with their rude words and suggestive comments? Will the gals shake their booty?

Really, thinking about the words to the music of now and then, what scenario pops into your head?

Paper Moon sung by the mellow voice of Ella Fitzgerald.

I never feel a thing is real
When I'm away from you
Out of your embrace
The world's a temporary parking place

Mmm, mm, mm, mm
A bubble for a minute
Mmm, mm, mm, mm
You smile, the bubble has a rainbow in it

Say, its only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me

Yes, it's only a canvas sky
Hanging over a muslin tree
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me

Without your love
It's a honky-tonk parade
Without your love
It's a melody played in a penny arcade

It's a Barnum and Bailey world
Just as phony as it can be
But it wouldn't be make-believe
If you believed in me

Compared to.....

Candy Shop - sung by 50 Cent.

Yeah...Uh huh
So seductive

I'll take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollipop
Go 'head girl, don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot
I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot

Now, I am not putting the whole song of Candy Shop on here because it will take up space and you can figure what the gist of the song is all about.

I just cannot picture in my head what music old people are going to be getting down and grooving with in my son's twilight years. Because people like to listen to the music they grew up with generally. Don't they? I mean, it is not like he is suddenly going to want to embrace Louis Armstrong or Ella Fitzgerald just because he turns seventy.

It just seems so weird.

Ciao
LC

Spring Musings

We are into the second month of Spring. My garden is full of green happenings, both weeds and other plants. Each time I step out the front door I say to myself that I must do some gardening. I have a lot of must do's.

In my front yard I have a raised, boxed in vegetable garden. Well, not that there are any vegetables in it right now, but there have been on and off over the past couple of years. At the moment it is a chaos of nasturtium and self seeding poppies. Rising bravely above this chaos are a couple of single stem apple trees, a miniature nectarine tree and a mandarin tree.

My husband would dearly love to see the garden bed removed and some sort of lawn put back there. There have been times when I am tempted, especially during the Winter months. Then Spring arrives and makes even the worst garden look inviting. I change my mind then.

I cannot say that vegetable gardening is a particularly money saving activity but it is nice to have home grown vegetables. But I am inclined to go to the local Farmer's Market and get just as tasty produce.

Friends of ours call our front yard a granny garden. Messy, flowery and a little weedy. Always something coming and going. Perhaps this year I may plant loads of flowers in the vegetable garden. Flowers are very pleasing to look at even when untidy.

Not far from us is a small, cream brick home on a corner block. The people who live there are a most unusual family.

The wife has severe allergies. To everything. Perfume, washing powder, fumes, cleaning products. Although I have not met her, I am friendly with a former neighbour of hers who gave me the run down on things.

The house has no curtains. No blinds even. It is set very close to the street so you cannot help but see in when you walk past. Besides, I love to look in windows when the opportunity arises. The mess in the house is fantastic. Not just mess, but piles and piles of stuff. Books, washing, ironing, magazines and all sorts of things just piled all over the place.

They hang their washing out to dry on a clothes horse on the nature strip. Sometimes they will pop their baby in a high chair just out the front door and feed her there. Or play with her on the nature strip outside the front fence, under the shade of the tree.

The front yard has been turned into a vegetable garden. They have chickens and a couple of rabbits. There are fruit trees and a grape vine trellised to various sections of chicken wire fixed to the low front fence. The pathway up to the front door is partially blocked by boxes in which herbs and seedlings are growing. It is so messy and chaotic. A compost bin is always overflowing with organic matter.

Although they have a backyard, it is small and hidden by a large fence so I have no idea what is going on in there. Probably more vegetables. I am not sure I would care to live next door to them as I wonder if a few rats may not enjoy being around their place.

Even though the house is a little bit of an eyesore, I find it rather sweet that they are trying to embrace a self sustaining life style. They are always friendly and busy with what they are doing. They live a quiet life and that is a nice thing.

Sometimes I get sick of houses being perfect. At work we build homes for people that are so perfect, so finished, so low maintenance that I wonder what on earth those people do. Don't they have any interests? There is so much order in their homes that it reminds me of Stepford Wives. Stepford Homes. The gardens are maintenance free and subsequently resemble the local council gardens. All neat, tidy and drought friendly.

A home that we recently completed has every single gadget you could imagine. Rain sensing louvres that shut automatically when they get wet. Lights that automatically turn on and off as you enter and exit a room. Remote controlled blinds. Even an auto flushing toilet. No thinking involved and even less movement.

They also have an electronic panel that allows programming for everything in the house. Heating, cooling, lighting etc.. Twice the owner has madly pushed the buttons so often that she has disengaged the infloor heating and had to have things reprogrammed.

I am a bit fearful of life becoming too easy. If I didn't have things to constantly do, boring and not boring, I would be concerned that I would become redundant in my own home. I want to open the blinds each morning. Get up, walk to the window and physically do the action. Not sit in bed and push a button.

I want to be a bit annoyed about the weeds. I want to feel there is something to do each day. Even annoying laundry. Dreary dunny cleaning. Sweep a messy floor. Pull hair out of plug hole in shower. Clean the filter in the dishwasher. Annoying as it is, boring as it is, I would rather have those things to do than have it all done for me.

Of course, I may not always do those annoying things when they "should" be done.

And I may complain about it when I am doing them.

But at least it is a constant happening.

Reminding me that I am still capable of all tasks other than button pushing.

Ciao
LC

One Of Those Days

Funny isn't it? You can be going along okay and then suddenly a shitful day arrives on your pillow when you wake up.

That was me today. Woke up from a very unpleasant sleep. The bed was too hot and the sleep very restless, very sweaty and my dreams were vivid and confusing.

When I awoke in the morning I had overslept and felt totally unrefreshed. My son woke me up when he called out from the lounge room "Muuuuuummmm, breakfast". I stumbled out of bed and made toast for both of us. I felt like a puff ball, face had pillow creases in it.

Neither the process of having a shower or a coffee helped at all. Oh, how I love make up on these sorts of days.

My husband, once home from his morning bike ride, was talking to me about the pending overseas trip and I could feel myself getting irrational about some parts of the discussion. He asked if I was alright and I shook my head so he changed the subject to something he knew I could manage.

My son had to come with me for food shopping. On Saturdays my husband visits his father in the nursing home and during that time my son and I do other things, today it was food shopping.

As I got in the car I said to my son that I felt fragile.

"I feel angry and teary, so just be careful what you say as I may be a bit upset", I told him.

"Oh, I know that feeling mum. I always have it. Hormones or something. That is why I like to play Xbox or read or go on the computer", he replied.

"Well, yes, distractions are good I suppose when you feel like this", I said.

He then told me that the best thing was not to think about the feeling or it would just grow and grow. I tried to follow his advice, but the feeling just followed my thoughts.

We decided to have lunch first. Whilst my son's lunch was fine, mine was not. I think I was not hungry, the vegetable soup was made with a beef stock and I could not stomach it. The final straw was the dreary cup of coffee that they made. I did not have it in me to complain as I could imagine it would come out all wrong if I did. Besides, it was not that they had made bad food, I just did not like it, nothing would have pleased me today.

"Not only do I feel teary and angry but I feel fat and fugly. I don't want to be here and I have no idea what I want to do either," I said half to myself.

"Do you feel better now you said that mum?" my son was laughing. I joined him.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me have a whinge," I said.

"That's okay. You will feel better soon. The feeling will pass," my son informed me.

We finished our shopping. My son was so helpful. I know he really did not want to come with but he made an effort to put aside those feelings of teenage resentment. He pushed the trolley around for me, lifted the bags into it and then loaded them into the car.

He was right. The mood passed. My brother dropped around for a cup of coffee and my mind sorted itself out.

After he left I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and then a humming bird cake.

I felt as though I had been productive. I even went into the studio for a while.

It has been a long week and I think I just hit the wall. Hospital, recovery, work, lack of exercise and poor sleep are always triggers for a fragile state of mind.

Thankfully I feel much better now that the evening is coming on. Daylight savings starts tomorrow so we will get and extra hour of daylight.

Tomorrow I shall wake up and a new day is there for me to enjoy.

Something to be very thankful for.

Ciao
LC

World Post Day

On October 9 it is World Post Day.

Now, if there is one thing that never fails to impress me, it is the life of a letter.

Despite the fact I am notoriously bad at posting letters from work, I have no problems sending off a post card or letter to someone.

I love that you can put a stamp on a letter or card, pop it into a letter box where it will be put into a sack, taken to some other place where it will be put into another sack and then maybe into another van, then on a bike or onto a plane.

I think there may be a conveyor belt trip there somewhere.

No matter how it happens, but it then turns up where it needs to (most of the time).

In anticipation of this special day I would like celebrate by sending a postcard to anyone who wants one.

You can email me your address via my profile. I promise not to pass on your personal details to anyone else.

Only onto the back of the postcard.

Ciao
LC

Cake Blog

CAKE WRECKS

I love this website.

The photos are so funny.

Let alone the spelling mistakes on some of those cakes.

Ciao
LC

The Jungle

My younger brother is a member of Rotary. He was introduced to it by my boss. The two of them have been friends since teenage years and do a lot of things together.

Earlier this year my brother was part of a Rotary team who went over to Papua New Guinea as volunteers to install water tanks in a number of villages.

It was an eye opener for him. The heat especially. Everyone on the team got sun stroke at one point. One of the people who went with decided to cook everyone dinner using local ingredients and as a result of that everyone had the most awful stomach upsets.

The rest of the time they ate Spam sandwiches and bananas.

My brother was surprised by the rawness of the jungle over there. And that most people of all ages carried a machete with them. There were insects that were disturbing and he was constantly being shown what not to touch.

His feeling was that no matter what you did over there, the jungle was waiting to pull you back into it's dark, hot and damp interior. As though it would not let you go, made your limbs unwilling to fight the humid surroundings.

The work took around two weeks and when he got back he was about eight kilograms lighter and very pleased to be back home.

Well, I have the feeling I am experiencing the lure of sloth jungle this week.

I have not done any exercise since Monday of last week. Next Monday I will be going back to my exercise regime and am looking forward to it.

However, I can feel the jungle of laziness wanting to pull me into it's slothful interior. My limbs are heavy and inert.

The trouble with doing regular exercise is that when you do have a break you are reminded of how utterly delicious it is to do nothing.

A couple of brisk walks are on the cards for the weekend.

Once I do that I will also be reminded of how even more utterly delicious it is to do exercise.

When you are finished that is.

Ciao
LC

Clogs, Socks and Cheese

I try really hard to be fashionable about town!

Every so often I buy a couple of items of clothing that will ensure that I look like I have some idea of what is happening in the world of fashion. Although, crop tops, skinny jeans and other items never found their way into my minuscule clothing collection.

Actually, the reality is, now and then I am forced to replace some over washed piece of clothing in my wardrobe and when I get to the clothes shops I have a choice of thirty five versions of the same type of top.

But I can never get my head around buying shoes that are anything but comfortable. No matter what is in fashion.

Today I went to work with my red clogs. They are so comfortable. During the day I take them off and wiggle my toes. When I get home I can just kick them off and do some more toe wiggling.

See those socks? They are a knee length cashmere mix. Soft and warm. All my socks are knee length. I feel I get good value for money. True. I do. I buy knee length socks because they are the same price as shorter ones.

Changing subject.

Last night I held book club at my house so I had to go down to the street to buy something tasty to serve up. Usually there is wine and cheese, some chocolate etc.

So, off I went to a little delicatessen that I know sells all the things I need. They have a cheese fridge that can be seen into from the front pavement. It is full of beautiful cheeses from all over the world. They sit on shelves like wax covered stones, all sizes from small hand made goats cheese that you can hold in your hand to enormous waxed rinds that take two men to lift. Just beautiful.

As I do not eat cheese I no longer have any idea of what is happening in the world of cheese so I asked the girl to pick a number of suitable cheeses for me. Interesting, creamy and full of flavour was all I asked.

I bought a few other things and the price was a bit high but I figured that was more because I don't deli shop very much these days so would not be used to paying a lot for cheeses.

Once home I unwrapped the assortment of cheeses and put them on the plate. During this process I idly looked at the price on one of them. Some creamy, blue veined cheese hand made in the hills of Upperthecomebackwest or something.

The price was $95 per kilogram. The little foil wrapped wedge with it's soft rind had cost me about $20. I mean, it really was small because cheese is dense so small is often weighty. You could have gobbled this wedge in one sitting.

I thought, hmmmm, that is a bit pricey but it must be worth it.

Since I don't even eat it, I was a bit cheesed off (no pun intended) that I would not even benefit from the creamy flavour.

My husband had a taste and said it was vile. But he thinks processed cream cheese in a jar is exotic, so his opinion was not listened to. My son took one look at it and walked away.

Anyway, I served up the cheese platter without making a joke about the ever rising cost of cheese.

But then one said "Oh, Linda, this is the most amazing cheese I have ever eaten".

"Ah, well, I am glad to hear that because there is a little story behind that wedge," I replied.

After I let them know the price of it, the other cheese denying, die hard diet mongers there helped themselves to the rest, especially when I told them that it would be thrown in the bin otherwise.

They all agreed it was the most gorgeous cheese they had eaten.

Now I am worried about the next book club I have at my house.

There may be expectations!

Ciao
LC