Gardening Effort

After the flush of Spring our front yard looked lovely. All lush and green, weeds, plants and trees blending in beautifully. I was almost fooled into thinking it would stay that way.

Sadly, a few scorching hot days showed the true state of my neglected yard. All brown and messy. Many plants past their use by date and weeds firmly ensconced in the garden beds.

Recently I had visited a couple of friends and their gardens were looking lovely. Not that I want to keep up with the Jones's but, for me, a front yard needs to look inviting and not like what my father would call a "divorce garden" that meaning that the couple in the house no longer cared what the state of the house was as they were about to divorce!

So, on Saturday I made the decision to clean it up. Pull out some weeds and do a general clean up. Dedicate myself to a couple of hours of hard work.

My husband had a music job and was out from early morning until late afternoon.

"I am doing some gardening", I said to him as he left.

"Great, the wheelie bin is empty which works out well", he replied.

Well, you know how it is when you get in the groove.

I pulled out a few weeds and thought to myself that it was pointless trying to just tidy and I decided to dismantle the never used vegetable garden, pull out every weed in sight, pull out every straggly plant and prune any rogue branches.

When my husband came home at 5.00 pm on Saturday he was greeted with a pile of rubbish bigger than he imagined I would create.

It took me a total of ten hours over the weekend. Little bit of sunburn, sore muscles and a great sleep later each night.

Lucky for me I was able to organise someone at work to pick up the trailer load of rubbish this week sometime. Then I will get drought friendly plants to fill out the now empty garden beds.

So satisfying.

Ciao
LC

End Of The Week Whine

It has been a busy week this week. Lots of number crunching.

Today I woke up and on my face were some new, red, nasty sore pimples.

Is there a name for a few? I know we have a gaggle of geese, a parliament of owls and a swarm of bees.

What about a pod of pimples? Or a pack of pimples. Or something.

Whatever you call it, it was on my face today. I think, no, I know I have PMT. The pimples herald the arrival of the hormonal activity without getting an actual period, which is kind of strange.

Anyway, I have nothing to report of any interest today. Unless, of course, reporting on the state of my skin is of particular interest. It is to me because I have had to look at it all day, running my fingers across unwelcome spots, one of which has landed right above my top lip.

Then I proceed to fiddle around and scratch at things and by the end of the day I have ended up with an even worse state of skin than when I woke up this morning.

Oh, well, now since I am complaining about my face, let me whinge about my neck which I hurt at exercise class last night. You know the sort of neck pain that makes people ask if you have a neck pain? Where you look as though you think someone is following you, head turned slightly to the right and tipped down. One of those ones.

Plus, the weather has been humid which has made my hair frizzy. And since I have embarked on that long and arduous journey of growing out my grey hair, I now have over an inch of unsightly extra frizzy hair on top of my head today. Which makes me feel like a sad old cow.

What else was there to complain about? Oh, yes, I have had a very snotty cold this week which resulted in me using over four hundred tissues to blow my nose. FOUR HUNDRED. Can you believe it? Plus I have not counted the times I had to use toilet tissue at home because I used up all of the normal tissues.

The cold has now become sinusitis. With that goes a headache that just kind of hangs around.

One more thing. A sore throat.

No, no, there is one more thing after that. My nose is red and sore after blowing it so many times.

So let me go through all that.

1. Pimply face (sore ones at that)
2. PMT
3. Neck pain
4. Frizzy hair
5. Grey hair on show
6. Sinus headache
7. Sore throat
8. Red nose

Ah, yes, I feel much better now I have something to complain about.

Ciao

LC

Dirty Ditties

I have always had a great interest in silly limericks and dirty ditties.

In fact, any silly poems or puerile songs have managed to linger in my head years after I first come upon them.

When my husband and I first met, he was fascinated how I could reel off series of stupid poetry as well as make them them up randomly. Long verses that would ensure lots of laughing. I stopped doing it years ago, possibly part of the aging process. However, now and then I get bursts of inspiration. More so now my son is getting to the age of wonderful silliness.

Limericks are my favorite. Sensible ones are fine but if they are crude or very stupid you can bet I will be laughing uncontrollably.

For a dirty ditty to work, it has to be a bit crude without being obscene. There is a fine balance. Too rude makes you feel it has crossed a line. Smutty is fine. Combine that with humour and you have something very amusing on hand. The word "bawdy" comes to mind.

Sadly, I sometimes spend my time reading dirty ditties on the Internet and have laughed myself silly. In fact, tonight I came across a poem that was so childishly gross that I laughed until my make up ran. Tempted as I am to put it on the blog it would only confirm your suspicions that I am sometimes a complete moron.

I did email it to my husband for him to read tomorrow morning. I am sure he will say something like "must you always destroy that feminine mystique?".

Once my husband came across a book that belonged to his parents. It was full of dirty ditties from war time. I read them all out loud and was unable to get through a page without laughing. They were fantastic. I do wonder where the book is? I could do with some senseless giggling.

Today I picked up my son from school and he asked me if I knew what limericks were. He reeled off a couple that he made up and then I told him a few (keeping it clean).

We made up some more and, sure enough, the standard dropped.

I mean, it was unavoidable when a limerick starts with "there once was a girl from China".

This evening we were making up more of them. Not all of them were naughty, just plain old silly ones.

My husband brought up one that started something like "there once was a man from Nantucket" which left my son giggling away as he went to bed.

How wonderful learning something new and funny.

Once again I am reminded of the fantastic power of words.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Shopping

I went shopping on Sunday.

Thinking it might be a clever idea to get my meagre Christmas shopping done in one hit, I made my foolish way to Chadstone Shopping Centre.

I must be insane.

Chadstone now has the ubiquitous title of being the biggest shopping centre in the Southern Hemisphere.

I had enough sense to arrive there at 10:00 am in the morning as it allowed me to get one of the last five carparks not out in the pouring rain.

Once I walked in I knew I had made a mistake. Everything has changed. So much building has been going on that the familiar shops had moved including the one I really wanted to go to. In fact, that one was not open due to the fact that it was having a huge opening today.

I actually needed a map to get around.

The place was so busy and noisy that I had a vague headache after about ten minutes. I then meandered aimlessly around.

Drifted into Toys R Us. Drifted out.

Drifted into Laura Ashley. Drifted out.

Drifted into Border's Books. Drifted out.

Then I drifted into a new area that opened up only last week that features high end shops such as Tiffanys, Gucci, Louis Vitton, Chanel, Ralph Lauren and Miu Miu. You know, places where other people shop!

Around these shops was so much security that I wondered if an important person was going to arrive. Alas, no, only a huge display of importantly expensive handbags to see. People were queueing up to enter these shops to get a chance of seeing an overpriced, designer label handbag in the flesh and not hanging off the arm of a celebrity in a trashy mag.

Although, on the first day of Chanel opening the store last week, twenty signature handbags sold at a small cost of $4,500 each. A silver quilted looking thing that you can get matching ballet flats with.

Am I missing something here?

I love well made goods and I admire beautiful design, but there was something unsavoury about it all. Or perhaps I am cynical. People like to buy beautiful things and if those things also manage to make a statement about their income and lifestyle, then is that so wrong?

To me there was not much individuality about what was on offer. It was pure marketing.

I love handbags. I love Radley handbags. I adore Spencer and Rutherford (don't have one though). They all have a unique and creative edge to them. Maybe they do have a "label statement" attached to them. But you know, for the money you spend on one of their handbags, you get a more individual look.

I suppose we all make statements with everything we buy. More so with things we deliberately choose not to buy. If I had $4,500 free to buy a handbag you can bet I would not be getting Chanel.

But I am digressing here with the post.

I could go on and on about what constitutes style and value.

Another thing I noticed in a Chadstone was the large amount of casual couches scattered around the walkways. Inviting people to sit and have coffee and tea as though in their own lounge room.

Is it just me or does the prospect of sitting around in a huge shopping centre to enable you to experience the ambiance of piped Christmas music, large crowds, screaming kids and bright lights sound like your idea of Hell?

It was all too much. After buying a couple of things I made my way back to the car and headed home. I lasted all of one hour and twenty minutes.

Once home, I ordered a whole swag of things online.

So much easier.

Of course, I will go back again as my memory will colour the event in a positive manner.

But you can bet I will get there and ask myself why, why and why?

Ciao
LC

High School

On Friday we received the book, uniform and school fees for our son's high school next year.

I freaked.

I asked him if I could give him school books and uniform as a Christmas present.

He declined.

Despite being a public school, there are costs involved when they first start.

New uniform. Sports uniform. School books. School bag. School fees to cover what the government does not. It won't end here, with school camps and other excursions happening throughout the year.

Thankfully they do not have a computer lap top policy which means my son won't have to buy one. Instead the school charges a fee to each student which ensures enough computers for all of the children who attend.

The school is run like a private school with a strict uniform policy. Ties, shirts tucked in, black or grey socks, school issue trousers. If the student does not comply there is a risk of getting expelled.

Because the school is one of the top five public high schools they can afford to be strict. If you do not live in the zone you don't get into the school. When you enroll the student you have to supply copies of rates notices, gas and electricity accounts and a map that shows that your house in the zone.

Thankfully the school has a big music and arts department as well as being very academic. My son will be happy there. Not all children fit in and I know of a couple of families who have one or two of their children enrolled there whilst another goes to a different school.

Right now my son is one of the big boys at primary school and next year he will be one of the babies again. They have a buddy system at high school to help them fit into the new regime.

There is a much more streamlined transition from primary school to high school these days compared to when I was a student.

At my son's school they have talks about hormones, homework and dealing with emotional ups and downs. They talk to students about how to cope with the workload of homework in high school and offer suggestions on how to organise their time.

They talk about life balance.

They talk about responsibilities, decision making and consequences.

They talk about things that many parents just don't talk about.

At my son's school we have a big mix of different cultures and often the parents of these children are not as open about emotional issues as other cultures perhaps. Life is about more than academia and when students from other countries come over and live amongst a very westernised society it is crucial to address the emotional needs.

It is not that I don't think being successful at school is important, I just feel that teaching children strong coping skills will make success a greater possibility. It will also help lessen the prospect of burn out which happens a lot these days.

I was talking to my son about the amount of homework to expect next year.

"I know. We have already had people from the high school come over and talk to us about it. You need to organise school, work and rest so that you get enough of it all", he told me.

Oh, yeah, tell me about it.

I am still working on the whole work, life balance thing.

I wonder if the school could give me some tips.

Or, maybe my son can.

Ciao
LC

Today Is SATURDAY

Yes, another Saturday and how I love that they roll in on a regular basis.

I have spent the morning cleaning up and just doing general household things. Isn't that what Saturdays are for?

There are different cleans around the house. You can get away with the general tidy and quick vacuum and then down the track all the indepth and nasty cleaning needs doing. The other week it was the bathroom for me. But today it was the kitchen. Or more specifically, the dishwasher.

Why is it ME that cleans the filter and then down the sides and under the door and all that. I hate it. It makes me want to puke because it reminds me, once again, how totally disgusting food waste is, even on a small scale.

In fact, human beings, in general, are borderline repulsive if they do not keep on top of it all on a fairly regular basis.

For example, when I clean the shower I just am constantly thinking how totally gross the human body is once you get down to the nitty gritty of it. Hair, skin follicles, body ablutions and pore clogging. I could go on and on about what a big germ factory it is. It just does not warrant thinking about.

Unfortunately it happens to be one of those things I do have a habit of dwelling on.

When we go out to eat I have to remind myself not to think about how many people licked the spoon before me or how many people sat on the seat before I did. I know that is a little bit compulsive obsessive but it just drifts into my head like an unwanted rat.

I can accept my dirt, so to speak. And also the grub from those in the house. I mean, you just have to don't you? Otherwise you would find cohabitation quite unbearable.

Recently I bought some of those little tooth brush covers that fix to the wall with suction caps. The idea being that the head of the toothbrush sits in it (leaving the body to hang down) and it keeps the bugs off it. I have this thing about flies crawling on my toothbrush when I am not home. And it is not hygienic to keep the toothbrush in a dark cupboard as that encourages germ activity. I know it is completely kooky of me but I do have that thing in my head.

Anyway, my husband initially thought the idea was great until he found a little earwig curled up with his toothbrush in the holder. He threw the whole lot out. I can hardly blame him. Recently we (and other homes) have had a few more earwigs appear in the house so I suppose they will turn up in strange places.

I once read a story in the newspaper about a family that went on holiday. Whilst they were away their house was robbed. A couple of months after the event the father had some old film in camera that needed developing (before the days of digital). A few of the photos were of the apparent robbers - but not of their faces. They had taken the family toothbrushes and stuck each one up their bottoms and taken a photo of them for the home owners to find later on.

Which, of course, meant that the family had been using the toothbrushes up until the photos were developed. It really freaked me out. I mean, that is just hideous. If anything like that happened to me I would have trouble getting over it.

My husband thinks the story is a furphy but ever since I read it I have always used brand new and unwrapped toothbrushes after I get home from holiday.

You just never know what goes on when you are not around.

Or, maybe we do know too much of what goes on when we are absent.

Honestly, I do often wonder if ignorance is a tiny bit blissful.

Ciao
LC

Work Talk

I have been busy at work and getting busier.

On Fridays when I get to work I have a rule where I do not answer the phone at all. When my boss heard about this rule he embraced it. Then, during the week when the phone rang he would say "can we apply the Friday rule?".

The main thing I do on Friday is clean up and prepare my desk for the following week. It gets messy easily and not just because I am not a neat nick. The fact is, I only have a certain amount of hours in the week to get things done.

When I sit at my computer this is my view. Just beyond that hedge and over the road is a golf course and there are always people on it, rain, hail or shine.

We will be in this office for maybe another year or so as we are shortly building new offices and factories behind us. Then I will be up on the second floor and will be able to see over to the golf course and the trees.
Never in my life have I been able to keep a tidy drawer at work (or at home for that matter). To tell you the truth I could not care less if the drawer is tidy or not as long as I can find a pen, pencil, ruler, calculator and stapler.

Each night I have to hide the pens as my boss is a pen thief.

Part of my job is having to fill in onerous paperwork that various Government bodies insist on sending to me on a regular basis. These surveys are compulsory and we would get fined if they were not filled in. Some of them take ages to do as I have to collate a lot of financial information together.

This is all in between the other stuff I do on a day to day basis.

Survey of Capital Expenditure. Does that title not bring great joy to your heart? Would you pick a book off the shelf if it had that title? This one is only about six pages long whereas the equally exciting "Business Characteristics Survey" would be about forty pages worth of mind numbing information to supply.

Unfortunately it is not a job that I can handball as nobody knows how to fill it in.

We often do cost plus jobs for people. This means that I record all expenditure onto a heavily formulated spreadsheet and then add a margin to it. All invoices relating to the job are recorded and copies made for the client and our customer file. All employee work hours are recorded and copies of time sheets provided.

Every supplier invoice that comes into the office goes through a detailed process to make sure we have not missed any costs that need to be passed onto the client.

1. Supplier invoice entered onto the Quickbooks file - gets initialled by me.

2. Invoice then entered onto client spreadsheet - gets initialled by me.

3 Invoice then copied to supply to client - gets initialled by me.

4. Invoice then checked by Boss Barney - gets his initial.

Then we can file it ready for payment. It sounds very fiddly I suppose. And considering that we get at least $200K of invoices into the office on a monthly basis you can bet that we have a lot of paperwork to deal with. Although we know all about import and export files and merging etc., the fact is, nothing keeps you as in touch with what is going on as doing some things manually. My boss is very busy but still likes to see what is being spent on each job.

I have so much work on my plate that I need to see those initials to know things have been done. My boss's wife who kindly does all my filing needs to know that certain things have been done and are ready to file. Everything that goes into filing has the initials OTF on them (okay to file).

I may be messy, but I know, quite confidently, that things have not been missed. It is better to be totally immaculate at the start of the process to reduce the possibility of making a big mistake down the track. Also, everyone in the office knows where to find things, even after they have been archived for five years. Being consistent with record keeping and making sure people are informed about the system makes finding any sort of documention very, very satisfying for the seeker.

We have another builder who works in the same area (but different office). Their office always looks as though nobody ever goes in there. Everything is in its place and there is never a mess in there. We are intrigued by their tidiness. We also share a large factory with them. Their side is perfectly organised whereas our side goes through stages of very messy to very tidy.

It is intriguing to see how the dynamics of an office can vary so much and still be successful. There is not formula that suits everybody.

Currently I am streamlining things in the office so that if something were to happen to me then my boss's wife would know the process enough to get another person. When I go overseas she will be able to do enough to ensure that things do not get out of control during those few weeks. Next year she is coming back to work four days a week and that will be great.

You would wonder how we could be so busy in during an economic downturn, but we now have enough work on to keep us going for eighteen months which is great as we employ twenty two people and keeping them working is very satisfying.

At work I have had incredibly stressful times as far as finances go and there have been times where I would wake up and just not want to come in but these days I am fairly bullet proof. I just figured I had to change my approach a bit more.

Early this year we really had a tough time and it took all my money juggling skills to get bills paid but now we are pretty much okay. But I never, ever rest on my laurels because I know that things can change at the drop of a hat so I always keep that thought in mind.

Now that I have spoken about my work, perhaps it may be prudent to do some.

Ciao

LC

Outside

Tonight I had exercise class.

It was power yoga with lots of holding of poses. This class always gives me far too many opportunities to watch what it going on around me.

Where I exercise is out in a big oval where kids play, people walk their dogs and middle aged men and women exercise like nutters. I often think that children must have a strong belief that grown ups do very, very stupid things.

The oval itself is quite big. It would take me about two minutes to jog around it. Surrounding the oval are a series of larger parks with play and exercise equipment and adjacent to it is a very large fenced of sports oval which is part of a local cricket and football club.

There is a barbecue nearby and during summer we are often exercising to the smell of cooking lamb chops.

Tonight the air had the sounds of a holiday atmosphere. Children playing. Seagulls were around. Dogs barking. It was all very distracting. I was daydreaming whilst holding a warrior pose. When I did the downward dog pose I did think how incredibly stupid we all looked. But, collective stupid is perfectly fine in my mind. Like a tribal get together.

During the class we were randomly charged by dogs running around us, tongues hanging out and ears back as they ran. Sometimes a dog may knock the drink bottles over or jump up on us and then bolt before we can say anything. Being off lead must give a dog a great sense of freedom. Their owners call out for them, but most of the dogs just keep on running.

When we finished I walked back to the car and briefly watched a group of older men playing lawn bowls. All dressed in white, hats on, smart shoes and serious faces as they crouched down to contemplate the release of the heavy black bowl. Having once played lawn bowls, I completely understood the frown on the faces of the men.

Got home to a quiet house. Both my husband and son had to stay home today because they were ill with a very nasty cold. They went to bed early and I think I may follow because tomorrow is a big day at work.

Time for the sleeping pose.

I can hold that one for hours!

Ciao
LC

Sunday

On Sunday it was my mother's birthday.

She turned 69.

She said to me that it was a stupid age. Neither here nor there. Just an old kind of age but not particularly special.

Although my mother suffered from depression terribly when she was younger, she never actually acknowledged it as such.

She always said it was because things were difficult, or that she felt sorry for herself or that she was not very good at coping. But she never actually used the word depression.

Things were not easy for her when we we growing up. She lost a baby through cot death. Tried to commit suicide when I was six. Lived within a household of fear and domestic violence. A story often told in millions of households around the world. Like all other mothers, she just got on with things.

I did a couple of posts about episodes about my mother that stuck in my mind. This one "Under the Lemon Tree" and this one "Words On Paper".

Recently she was diagnosed with depression and went on anti depressants. We talked about it at the time and I think she realised exactly what it was like to have chronic depression and then go on medication and feel it lift.

She agreed that even in today's modern world and wordy, wordy media talk about depression, it really still does have a stigma and unless you have been there and gotten out over the other side, it is really difficult to appreciate how very much out of control you feel.

When I had post natal depression with my son, I know that some people felt I was weak for not pulling through it as a grown up should. Those close to me were supportive but I recall my brother saying to me that I should never tell anyone I had depression or they might see me as having something wrong with me.

I said to my brother that I did have something wrong. I had depression and I was never, ever going to be embarrassed by it and if people could not deal with it then that was there problem, not mine. Not that I ever actually spoke about it. Generally I kept it to myself unless it came up in conversation.

My mother said she felt so much better now she was on medication and really wished that she had done something about it sooner. She did not know that she had anxiety, it was just a feeling that she had with her for years. Nor did she know that the low level and chronic anger she felt for not reason was a symptom of untreated depression. As was her confusion. Her frustration.

I used to say to her that she seemed depressed to which she would reply that she wasn't sad so it was not depression. It is hard to explain depression to another who is not aware.

I am happy that she is feeling good about things at this stage of her life.

Next year she turns seventy and we will all go up to see her and celebrate. I have not seen her for about three or four years. I guess that is what happens when people choose to move from family.

Well, my mum still seems like the young woman who cut out felt figurines for me to play with in bed. Told me stories. Made clothes for my dolls. Chased after me with a wooden spoon to smack me when I was naughty.

Cooked awful dinners - a lot. Made lovely porridge. Smooth for me and lumpy for my older sister. Loaded us with vitamins long before it was the done thing. Spoke up about the rubbish food at the school tuck shop, only to be told to sit down and shut up.

Who felt alone so much that I cannot think about it without feeling pain somewhere deep within.

She was the one who would give my father the two fingered salute behind his back when he was on a rage rant. Loving when she needed to be and angry when required. She took his anger and did her best to protect us from it.

I realise that as a child you are completely oblivious to the person that is the parent. They are just beings in your life that you love as much as a child can love.

Whenever I think of that woman, that loving mother of mine I am eternally grateful that all her goodness outshone all the hard stuff that went on in our lives. It always reminds me that if you have enough good in your life it is like a life jacket that continues to support you as you get older.

I can say that a lot of my parenting skills come from her.

She is getting old.

Which means I am too.

The same as we were when young, trapped in an aging body.

I wish she lived close by.

Ciao
LC

Tatties

I have a little weakness.

I love buying fruit and vegetables straight from the farmer.

I am even happy to pay more for the stuff if I know the the money is going to go straight to the guy that grew the stuff rather than fill up the coffers of a supermarket chain.

Trouble is, sometimes you have to buy more than you can actually eat. I don't know how this happens and maybe it is a marketing ploy but it is an issue right now in my house.

Or should I say in the back seat of my car.

A number of months ago I bought 15kg's of brushed potatoes from a lady who comes by our place selling organically grown potatoes every couple of months.

They were supplied in a hessian sack which I dragged home rather enthusiastically. My husband asked me where exactly I was going to put them and just how were we going to actually eat them all.

Well, must I always think of the logistics of vegetables that I buy?

I don't eat potatoes much. My son only likes them mashed. I mean, it is hard work to get through one kilogram of tatties in our house, let alone fifteen kilograms of the things.

Anyway, I ended up giving half to my brother. Then slowly ate through a couple of kilograms before forgetting all about the rest in the hessian sack that had been now conveniently pushed behind the bread machine.

After a while I actually forgot I had any of those potatoes left and bought some more at the supermarket.

It was not until a rather unpleasant pong drifted out from the pantry each time anyone opened the door that the stinky old potatoes were found. All of the ones left were growing roots and I tipped the load out onto the compost bin swearing never to fall for that old bulk buying trick again.

Until last Thursday that is.

Yes, the tattie lady came around again and, yes, I bought 5kgs of new potatoes. My boss bought fifteen kgs of big ones.

I did not mention anything about them until Friday afternoon as I went to put something in the fridge.

"Oh, I bought some more potatoes," I muttered as I bent down.

"What? What for? We have a load in the pantry," my dear husband said.

"Oh, well, the lady came around. I am supporting the farmer's you know," I defended myself.

"Are you serious? Supporting the compost bin more like it," husband says.

We had some more dialogue about my potato buying habits.

Later on I opened the pantry door to see where I would put the potatoes when I deigned to take them out of the car.

Unfortunately I had forgotten about the 3kgs I had bought on special just a week ago so there was no room at all for any more. I have no idea where on earth I am going to put this new batch. Let alone when we will eat them.

I did look up loads of recipes with potatoes in them. But there is lots of peeling involved.

I think my brother might need some more.

That is, of course, if I actually take them out from the back seat of my car.

I do hope that the potato lady stays away for a few months.

Or at least I do wish she could grow something else.

Like strawberries.

Or mangoes.

Sigh.

LC

Sunshine On Saturday

It is now about 10.00 am on Saturday morning and I have made the decision to give swimming lessons a miss today.

I woke up early, about 6.00 am. Sat in bed with the lap top and then felt so very tired. The sort of tired that takes a couple of hours to go. Vague headache with it. So, I am wagging swimming.

My son got out of bed, got dressed and asked to play Xbox.

"No way. You have not had a shower and you need one", I told him.

We discussed the pros and cons of showers. Me - being clean is vital to good skin health etc. Him - too hard, takes too long, why bother.

Anyway, he gets in the shower and then takes ages to get out!

Just before he got in I asked him if he had clean underwear on. I mean, why I should have to ask him just beggars belief. But the fact is, I am way behind in the laundry area and all the clean underwear is in a big basket so I KNOW there is nothing clean in his wardrobe.

"Have you got clean underwear on?" I ask.

"Yeah", he replies.

"Clean from the cupboard?" I say.

"Well, no. Clean from the floor", he admits.

"Clean from the floor? How can that be?" I ask.

"They have been on the floor for four days, so they would be clean now", he tells me.

"Ah, self cleaning", my husband says after listening to the dialogue.

So, the secret to clean clothes is to leave them lying on the floor after taking them off.

Oh, if only I had known. I would have never bothered picking anything up for the past 40 plus years.

Now time for me to have a shower!

My underwear, however, is not from off the floor.

I do have some standards.

Ciao
LC

Friday Thinking

I have had a great week this week. 

 

Work has been productive.  The weather has been lovely and hot.  My mind has been restful.  Exercise has been enjoyable.

 

Weeks like this charge my batteries more than a holiday.  The combination of life, work, health and dealing with day to day stress successfully means I am doing something right.  I feel satisfied.

 

On Wednesday night we went out for dinner at a place called Lentil As Anything.  This is a restaurant run by volunteers and the idea is that you pay what you think the meal is worth.  It is all vegetarian so I made sure that my son was fed before we left.  His idea of vegetarian is a bowl of mashed potato. 

 

My son has not been to this place before so there was a lot of people watching going on with him.  It is full of all different nationalities milling around.  African, Indian and Asian.  The food culture in foreign cultures is so much more than a barbecue and a beer.  It is an entire network of family and social connections.  It reminds me of when I was young and sitting at the food laden table for a smorgasbord Sunday lunch. 

 

The place was hot.  It is not far from the river so there is a fair bit of bushland around. We sat inside.  My son was all sweaty and hot but, interestingly enough, did not complain. 

 

There were some people playing African music.  Lots of children lining up for the food.  A couple of young teenagers serving coffee and teas behind the counter.  Music playing and lots of talking.

 

Most of people who eat here are not mainstream.  Alternative sorts who just don't fit into the "average Joe" kind of mould.  I think that is why I like it.  I feel more at home at this place than I do in a local pub.  I love the atmosphere.  Welcoming.  Everyone working there is a volunteer so they like being there.  They feel as though they are part of something more than just a workplace.  It shows in the way they approach the customers.

 

The food they served on Wednesday was African.  Lovely and spicy.  Normally I don't eat big portions of food at home or work.  But here, I ate two big plates of a most delicious and aromatic mix of different foods. I spent the rest of the evening at home lying around like a stuffed pillow.  But, unlike pigging out on bad food, I did not feel ill, bloated or guilty.  I just felt deliciously full.  

 

I asked my son if he wanted to go again and he said he would but not to expect him to eat that stuff.  But you know, I think that one day he will surprise himself and try things.  Especially when he goes out with his peers as all of his friends are either Japanese, Indian, Chinese.  I expect that when he gets a girlfriend she will not be a regular Australian gal so he may well be more likely to allow himself to try new foods.

 

I know I could not stand spicy food until I was almost forty.  But I would eat things like ox tongue and herrings.  The herrings I still eat now and then but there is no point having a jar of them in the fridge as I might only want to eat them twice a year.  

 

We have yet another hot day today and more expected for the weekend.  In less than a week my garden has gone from lush and green to dry and faded looking.  I think we have an early Summer and it will be a long one.  Interesting that I will be spending four weeks of it in Wintry overseas.

 

Now, for the next six weeks or so I will be thinking of Christmas, my son's graduation, getting books and uniform for high school next year, getting things organised for overseas, making sure everything is in order at work before I head off and all the other things that go with this crazy time of year.

 

Last night we got a phone call from a friend who lives in Cairns.  We last saw him when we got married, almost nineteen years ago. He and his wife were both witness and only people at our post office wedding.   They are both coming down to Melbourne and we will catch up with them.

 

It seems like yesterday that we last saw them.

 

In fact, it is almost a lifetime ago.

 

Time is very surreal.

 

Ciao

LC

Unwanted Attention

For years I used to do the books for my boss's father.

I now no longer do them and I feel the need to offload the whole creepy saga about my dealings with his father. I am inspired by Topiary Cow's post about being on the receiving end of unwanted male attention.

When I first started working for my boss it was only for a few hours each week. At the same time his mother worked with us.

My boss's mother is fantastic. Intelligent, interesting and wonderfully sociable human being. Very close to her two adult children, looks after her huge network of friends in the best possible way, never forgets a birthday and organises the most amazing get togethers at Christmas. She was sometimes a bit controlling but there is always good with bad. All in all, I just thought she was terrific.

She no longer works with us as the workload changed and required her to be more computer literate and office savvy and she decided, at the age of almost sixty, she had other things she could focus on. That was about three or so years ago.

During the early years with my boss, his father asked if I could do his bookwork and I said that would be fine. It was only a few hours every three months.

His father ran a practice from home that was to do with treating sports injuries and similar things. I don't want to spell out his exact occupation in case he Googles the word and lands on my blog. But it begins with O and ends with H and, if you want to you can read what it is here.

He had the most irritating way of invading my body space. Either by being touchy feely and leaning over me at the computer whenever I asked a question or resting his hand on my shoulder each time he passed. At first I thought he was just that kind of guy. You know, some people are just more tactile than others.

Once, when at a function being held at my boss's house, I was a bit tipsy (ah what a memory) and the father said to my husband "well, if you can't handle her when you get home I will be glad to take her" to which my husband replied "no thanks, I know she would not like that and neither would I". He wanted to say more, but weighed up the situation and decided it was best to keep the response brief.

Then it started getting worse, everytime he saw me he would squeeze my bottom or try to give me a kiss. And this was in front of either his son or wife as well as when alone. I would tell him to lay off and so would they. It was really uncomfortable.

Now, normally I would tell someone to leave me alone in a fairly aggressive way. But, when you are dealing with someone who is part of your work and social network you have to step very, very carefully to prevent offending or upsetting people. I spoke to my boss about it and he apologised profusely. He even used to tell his father to leave me alone.

One time I went out to the theatre with the family as part of a fund raising event. My husband had to stay home and look after our boy. Anyway, before the show started we were all milling around in the bar area. There were about twenty in the group. At one point I went to the bar to get an orange juice and whilst I was standing there, my boss's father came up behind me and pressed his groin area into my buttocks and asked me what I was having.

I just had to react strongly in that case and told him to fuck off in a very clear manner. He was affronted.

After that, I really dreaded going to do the books. In the early days he would offer to treat me for back pain and that was fine until one day he made a rather salacious comment about my legs and also told me that he noticed I had a crooked front tooth and that if I got it fixed I would be perfect. After that I refused point blank to let him give me free treatment as the thought of him touching me was too stressful to think about - even if it was for free!

Then, about two years ago he and his wife decided to do a long drive around Australia and incorporate some locum work in the trip. They were going to be gone for a whole year and so I would not do his books.

On the few days prior to the trip I did his books with great relief as in the back of my mind I knew it would be ages before having to be there again.

Then, just as I was about to leave he said something really very odd to me.

"Do you know that P(wife) thought that you and I were having an affair", he said in a casual kind of voice.

I was so shocked it took me a couple of long seconds before I answered.

"Well, I do hope you set her straight. I really value her friendship and would be very upset if she thought such a thing of me", I told him.

"Oh, of course, yes, yes. She is fine now", he replied rather jovially.

On the way home I rang my husband. He was annoyed but said that the father was casting a net and seeing if I was interested.

A few days later I told my boss about it.

"I am so sorry Linda. I don't know what to say. But, thinking about it, there was a time not long ago where he had a thing about you and it pissed mum off and she and he argued about it", my boss explained.

It was a bad situation. The whole thing. Incidentally I have only glossed over the entire series of events as I could fill a book on some of the episodes that cropped up. I ended up having to be really hostile to him whenever I went to do work there as I was always on edge. There were times when I would put my hand up and say "don't stand any nearer to me, you are invading my personal space and I hate it".

It put me in a most awkward position. And I was offended that my boss's mother even thought that of me.

Not only that, his father is a complete wanker and an old fart. Honestly, it would be an act of charity if I even thought of doing the deed with him in mind.

When they came back from their trip I had a phone call from him to do the books again.

"I am so sorry, but you will have to get someone else. I am far too busy with work", I informed him. It was a very satisfying moment and I had told my boss of my decision prior to the phone call. He completely understood.

Now when I see the parents, the father is perfectly well behaved.

He was even kind enough to tell me that I had put on weight.

Tosser.

Ciao
LC

Chivalry

Today when I got to work I had to open up everything.

As I was unlocking the padlocked gate a guy came up to speak to me about something he had organised with my boss. It involved a shipping container being delivered and having to be unloaded and he had to wait around until it appeared.

I unlocked the office, turned off the alarm and did all the things that needed doing, one of which included unloading groceries from my car.

At that stage, this nice man offered to help but by then I had finished.

Now, my car is filthy at the moment and I had it parked in the baking hot sun. I am a bit embarrassed actually as it looks very, very dirty and I feel that is a reflection on me, being the driver and all.

After I had been in the office for about half an hour, the guy comes in and asks me if I could get a small bucket of water and a cloth for him as he would like to clean the bird droppings (of which there are a few) from off my car.

"They will leave damage on the paintwork", he informed me.

"Really, that is very kind of you, but you don't have to. In fact, when I bought my car I paid $1500 extra for paint protection in anticipation of my laziness", I said.

But he insisted and I gave him the water and cloth and he cleaned everything off my car.

In return I directed him into the kitchen where he later made himself lunch.

Later on I told my husband about how the nice man cleaned birdy doo from my car.

"It must be just great being a female. I mean, I can tell you now, if it had have been my car there is no way known he would have offered to clean bird crap off it", my husband said.

Ah, yep, it sure is great now and then.

Ciao
LC

900 Posts

This is post number nine hundred.

Fancy that. So much twaddle going on.

Today was a lovely day.

Went into the studio and looked out the door at the lovely blue sky and trees that were whispering when the breeze went through the leaves.
Fiddled around with some funny things I am doing with my son's primary school photos before I put them into a frame.

Almost finished off a painting that has been sitting here for ages. Until today it was just a painting of the sun. It's okay but will end up in a box somewhere soon. But for now, I am happy that I did something with it.

First thing this morning I went for a walk in the hot sun, down the hot streets and enjoyed the silence.

A nice day was had.

How about you?

What did you do?

Ciao

LC

Welcome To Hot Days

I love hot days.

I don't want every day to be hot, so living in a hot country would not be my ideal, but I love getting a hot day in between the not so hot days.

The almost noiseless air on a hot day appeals to me. The heat seems to dull the sound of things while at the same time leaving the sound to hang in the air.

The sound of insects in the evening have the same effect on me as a song from my youth. I hear the cicadas or crickets and am reminded of being small and playing outside in the evening warmth. It makes me feel nostalgic.

Today I went for another swimming lesson. All went well until we had to float on our back and do a frog kick. I did not get it, and I was tired and had twice sniffed water up my nose which bothered me. On top of it all, one of my ears blocked and I also forgot my swimming cap and had my hair plastered to my face every time I put my head out of the water.

On the way home I drove with the windows of the car open and the air conditioner on. I love the hot and cold air mixing together. My Ipod was plugged in and I played one song over a few times. It was Black Eyed Peas with Sergio Mendes singing Mas Que Nada. It was loud and as I turned into the driveway at home my husband later on said to me "was that you coming down the street playing loud music, I thought it was a teenager".

By the time I got home, my wet hair had all but dried into a wonderful big frizz and smelt of chlorine.

Once I had made myself presentable I decided to beat the heat and get some grocery shopping done. Unfortunately the entire local population had decided to do the same thing and I had to park ages away from the store. This meant that I had to then push the wayward trolley back to the car in the stinking heat.

Hot weather to me is for sitting around in, under the shade of a tree in a deck chair. Admiring the blue sky and perhaps reading a book. Drinking a nice cold drink. It is not for pushing a trolley full of food through a sun scorched car park, unloading it and then climbing into a very hot car.

My husband and son hate hot weather. The complain about it. The cooler in the house goes on as soon as the hint of warm wind finds it's way into the rooms. I would not turn it on unless the house were unbearably hot.

I thought it would be nice to go out for a long bike ride and a picnic tomorrow but neither of them would like it because it will be so hot. I could go on my own but, being a bit of a loner, sometimes if I do too much on my own I enjoy it a bit more than I care to confess.

Instead I think I may go for a long walk in the morning, listen to music as I go and enjoy the solitude. Maybe stop off at the local trash and treasure market and see if there is anything to buy. Have a coffee at a nearby cafe.

It doesn't matter what I end up doing, as long as I get to enjoy the warm sunshine as it starts to rise high in the sky and leave a bite on bare skin.

It is like infusing the soul with something quite inexplicable.

And very, very nice.

Ciao
LC

Turned A Corner

About two weeks ago I did this post that had a bit of a moan about some problems I was having.

After that post I implemented a swag of strategies to help me avoid a trip to the Land Of Sad Faces and I can say that I feel I have turned the corner.

It was a big effort. I actually wrote down a list of what I needed to do to put some structure into it.

Writing down things helps me greatly for it is too noisy in my head to filter out the good from the bad. I suppose it is how I am wired.

The two main factors for me in scrabbling out of the hole I had slipped into were exercise and sleep. If these two activities can be kept on track it allows me to manage the ups and downs well enough to stay at ease.

Early nights were the first thing. I hate early nights. By that I mean into bed before 10.30 pm. I don't like to lie in bed waiting for sleep which can be up to an hour and a half. But I made the effort to be in between the covers by 10.00 pm.

The sleeping tablets the doctor prescribed to me were great for a few of the nights, but I figured I had to retrain my brain rather than depending on medication. Sleeping tablets have a reputation for being a bit addictive.

I increased my exercise regime as much as I could without wearing myself out. Not running, but walking more.

I made a list of all the things I wanted to do but had not. Just small things. Then ticked them off as I forced myself to do them.


I have a theory about my mind. It wants to go down a path of old thinking patterns and will naturally slip back there when my life is not in balance physically and mentally. So I have to make it focus on other things. Whether that be mowing the lawn, pulling out weeds or reading books. By keeping my mind focused it seems to get back on track.

I was so close to going back on medication for depression but for me there are aspects to them that I dislike. They flatline my mind to the point where I feel like I am inside a glass jar looking out but not connecting. I would rather struggle day by day than have that sensation of disengagement with my surroundings.

There were a couple of times when I picked up my mobile phone during the day and said to my husband "I am really struggling here" and he said it was okay and we talked about it. I never do that as a rule so he knew I was working hard at it and I owe him a big thank you for just being there.

I also want to say a big thank you for everyone who left an encouraging comment for me on my post. It does make a difference. Despite the silly things I post on my blog, I am not a particularly open person when it comes to articulating what turmoil I may be going through at a given time. I may talk about it later when I have worked it all out, but not at the time. If I say to my husband, or anyone for that matter, that I have a problem you can bet I have been trying to work through it for a long time leading up to the confession.

Sometimes just acknowledging is part of the getting through it.

So this week I felt happy more often. That small thrill of joy that fills my chest when I look at the blue sky or hear music.

The anxiety is still around but not so constant. The bouts of feeling emotionally inert are not as prevalent.

With that in mind I think I can confidentially say I am back on a kind of steady path, steady enough to feel more settled and able to cope with day to day things.

And, my handbag is tidy.

Which is strangely important to me.

So, there you go.

A good thing.

Ciao
LC

Days Off

I recently had five days off work.

Friday was taken off to go to the hairdressers. Then along came the weekend and because we had a public holiday on the Tuesday it was a given that everyone would take the Monday off and allow a long weekend.

The public holiday was in celebration of the Melbourne Cup - a horse race, of all things.

Australia is a country of long weekends.

It is the first time in ages that I have had five lovely days off in a row and I enjoyed every second of them. Well, except for those last couple of hours right at the end when you realise the work is coming up the next day.

I cleaned the house, a heavy duty clean which involved having to pull an accumulation of hair out from the plug hole in the shower.

I have to say, it is all well and good to use "mung bean" and "eco friendly" bathroom cleaners but if you had a look at what the inside of the drain looked like after months of shampoo and hair going down there you would not hesitate to tip heavy duty bleach down there once a week. Stinky, slimy and foul. No amount of baking soda and lemon juice is going to keep that bug free.

Moved furniture as I vacuumed. Dusted high and low. Brushed away some cobwebs.

Did some gardening. Pulled weeds out from the soft, warm and damp earth. Dug over the soil in preparation for some planting. We had heavy rain one night followed by a warm day which make gardening easier because the soil is lets the weeds go a bit more willingly.

Went to the shopping centre and meandered around for a couple of hours then came home.

I made time to do some things in the studio.

I even emptied out my handbag. This is a job I normally do weekly but as I have been in a rather inert frame of mind I had let it go for at least three months. It was jam packed with rubbish, receipts, tissues, pens, notebooks and change rattling around the bottom.

The huge excitement of the weekend was the end of the road for my trusty hair dryer. As I turned it on it belched smoke at me. I had to go and buy a lovely new one. Along with some very luscious shampoo.

All I can say is that it was lucky it did not expire today, on a work day or I would have had to have had six days off!

Even though having Tuesday off to celebrate a horse race is perfectly acceptable.

Taking another day off because there was no hairdryer in the house would not pass muster.

Ciao
LC

Girls Only?

Tonight I went to exercise class.

There were six girls and the personal trainer. We were sitting on the fit balls getting ready for the class when the personal trainer suddenly had something very important to say.

"Oh, oh, Linda, I was reading the paper on the weekend and I came across an article that reminded me of you", she told me.

"Really? I am intrigued", I said.

"Well, there I was reading away and I saw a small article about a car that you can get in Japan. The interior is designed to absorb all smells and bad odours from inside of the car. I thought of you straight away", she went on.

There was a round of hysterical laughter from the girls.

"Gee, thanks for thinking of me. I have to say though, you would not want to buy that car second hand now would you", I responded.

"Especially if you were the previous owner", one of the girls added in and more silly laughter followed (mine included).

I am not sure whether to be offended or not.

I went home and relayed the episode to my husband.

His response was not one of shared amusement.

"Are you telling me that you tell people you farted in your car? Do you talk like that if a guy is in the class?" he asked me in a semi shocked way.

"Well, yeah. Is that bad? It's not like I actually do the deed in front of anyone. I just happened to admit I did it in the car once or twice. It was a JOKE okay," I answered (feeling like I may have behaved in a rather unladylike manner).

"No, no, well, I am just surprised that you would talk like that in front of a guy," he said.

"I have no shame," I answered back.

Just as well he does not read my blog.

The online confessional.

Read by people who have never actually met me.

And not just gals.

Ciao
LC

Halloween

Yesterday I decorated the house a little bit for Halloween. My son really wanted to do it and I said okay.

Now, in Australia Halloween is not a big thing but every year a few more children want to get involved in the fun of it.

However, there is a horrible attitude towards it from so many people. When my son went trick or treating last year he had a lot of people say to him that they don't believe in that "American Crap". What a mean spirited lot people are.

But we made sure S knew the history behind it all before he went out and about as we anticipated this reaction. Every time someone gave him the old "we don't subscribe to this American thing" or asked him if he knew what Halloween was all about, he gave them the historical low down on it and made them think twice.


Halloween is Celtic. My husband, in his childhood in Scotland, used to go out "guising". He dressed up and went from house to house, sang a song and got a treat. It was fun. You did not need a lot of money to do it and you still don't these days. You just need some imagination to join in the fun.


Unlike Christmas, which is an emotional minefield, costly and a reminder of how things used to be, Halloween is just good, old fashioned fun and we should recognise that and enjoy it.

To me, Halloween is the one time kids and teenagers can be just that. Kids and teenagers. They can dress up, have fun, scare each other, get treats and let themselves be full of great silliness.

Why are people here so negative about it? Some of the children who visited us said that some houses they went to told them to get away and that Halloween was not part of the Australian way.

Well, duh!

How ignorant. Considering that Australia was populated in the early years by Irish and English then would it not be true to say that Halloween is, in fact, a bigger part of their culture if they had a good long think about it's roots?

And considering a fair slice of the Irish and English ended up on the shores of America, does it not make sense for them to also embrace the whole tradition? And if they choose to do it in a fantastic way, then all the better. Australians should lighten up.

Although we only did a little thing with decorating the front of the house, it was great to do it and the half a dozen groups that came and knocked on our front door were really, really appreciative of it.

So, I want to say thanks to the American way of doing Halloween. I want to say thank you for making it a HUGE thing and hopefully it will become a big event here in the next few years.

Because if I can do something that makes kids feel happy and welcome and part of something then I am going to do that.

I cannot wait until next year. Our house is going to be the SPOOKIEST in town.

Plus I am going to bake Halloween treats - especially as I have a tonne of lollies left over and have had to hide them from my son and husband to avoid an overdose of sugar.

So, Happy Halloween, or whatever it is you say at this time of year.

Ciao
LC