Cleaning

I cleaned my bathroom today.

It took a long time.

You wouldn't think that a room that is 6ft x 6ft would take as long to clean as it did. But it did. It must have been almost two hours worth.

That's because I have not cleaned it properly for an awfully long time.

I dunno. The house getting flooded. The Oxfam walk. The holiday. The work move. Therapy. They all sucked the life out of me somehow.

And I just did not give a shite if I drowned in litter of dust mites and other fluffy dusty things.

But now I do care. Because over the past week I have been noticing what a grubby house I have. We have only been doing cleaning that prevents illness and that is not quite the same.

It certainly helped that last night I had the first good night's sleep in what seems like forever. I woke up feeling alert and energised. And I have not even got the new mattress yet. But I did have acupuncture on Friday and took lots of Chinese herbs. Not sure if that is what did it, and I don't care, because whatever it was I slept well.

The thing is, I find it a bit disappointing that after a great night's sleep I really wanted to clean my bathroom.

Surely I could have come up with something a bit more inspiring that a toilet and shower scrub.

Sigh.

Ciao
LC

Why?

Why does my son suddenly need to do the following things after we tell him to go to bed:

1. Have a dump
2. Find he is starving and must eat
3. Realise he has homework that has to be in to school next morning
4. Feel the need to talk about "important" things
5. Take fifteen minutes to brush his teeth
6. Go deaf

Not all at once but often a combination of the above items.

Just wondering.

Ciao
LC

My Latest App

I go through stages where I like to download IPhone Apps and play around with them until I tire of whatever they offer and get a new one.

I have previously bought a couple of stupid apps and now tend to look up ones that are only featured in some newspaper article.

My most groovy and recent app is called Hipstamatic. It takes photos that remind me of my childhood. Faded and dated and very flattering.

Below are a few that I took today. I love them.

This photo below could have been taken thirty years ago. Okay, so the cars are a bit modern. But the feel of it is very nostalgic.

I took this one as I crossed the road.

Some bikes parked outside the gallery.

Now the one below could definitely be from the 1970's with that shaggy hair do.

I have photos of the gallery from the time I was a teenager and they look like this.

Isn't it ironic that for all our modernity we often try to recreate our past.

Ciao

LC

Saturday City Visit

Today we went out for an afternoon city visit.

We walked past the art gallery and I took a photo of some funky wire animal sculptures. I love their bright colours against the grey of the building.
My husband and son discussed something about nothing. It was grey and the air was cool and fresh. The city was very busy as it was the 150th birthday of the National Victorian Gallery.

We made our way to a shopping centre for no reason other than I wanted to look at the new multi million dollar refurbishment of what is a Melbourne institution. It smelt lovely. All perfumed and warm. I think something happens to my brain when I walk into this sort of space. I want to look at things. The opposite feeling happens to my husband and son. They want to get out.

We thought we might go to the food section of the department store but the food was so ordinary and hideously priced that we decided to go to a place called The Pancake Parlour.

I think I was about 14 or 15 years old when I first went to this place. They have a few outlets. It has not changed since then and nor has the menu. Of course, the prices have but the taste is that same.

My husband had a Jamaican Banana pancakes. I remember eating those as well when I was younger. They tasted the same!

I had a Jewish Blintz which was so rich that I felt ill for a while afterwards. However, that is not to say it did not taste delicious. It was just very rich for me.

Surprise, surprise. My son had a sundae. He ate half of it (along with a chocolate thick shake) and my husband finished off the rest.

My son and I then took some photos.

We went walking around looking at stuff.

I love this view of the cakes in the window of the Hopetoun Tea Rooms. I have never eaten here but the decor looks lovely. I stopped being a cake muncher years ago but still appreciate the deliciousness of the way they look.

A set of steps down to a place called Basement Discs which has been around for ever.

The mural on the wall is a medley of painted record covers from the 1970's. Are there any there that you recognise?

My son standing beside a funny sign.

Me standing in Degraves Street which is a funky cafe space in Melbourne.

Another photo. I have never really like having my photo taken but as I am getting older it is getting worse. I just go "oh, I look so old" and then my son kindly explains that the camera picks up all the dark spots (creases) and makes me look older.

Sigh.

A final shot outside the gallery just before we made our way home.

So, that was a lovely Saturday.

Sometimes you have to get out and away from the house.

And not just out in the back yard to hang out the washing or do the garden.

Or out to go food shopping.

Just OUT.

Ciao

LC

Tweety Food

A while ago I was at a client's house doing some bookwork. As I left he told me about this raffle that he won at some gymnasium.

The whole prize pool was all about health. A gym membership, some one on one personal training sessions, gift vouchers at various health food places and thirty x 1kg bags of this stuff called Kauai Puku which is a healthy seedy thingy.

He gave me two bags to take home.

Below is a photo of what it looks like close up.

When I opened the bag I thought that whoever was selling this stuff had worked out a new way to market bird seed. Add some sultanas and raisins to the mix to make it palatable, tell everyone it is the ultimate detox and charge about $25.00 per bag.

The first time I ate it I neglected to read the dosage that was ideal and tipped a load of it on my cereal. It certainly got things moving. I kept eating a bit each day until I got sick of it and just left the opened packet in the fridge and an unopened pack in the pantry and forgot about them both.
Then about a week ago I noticed that you can now get the same product in the form of a bar. Kind of like a muesli bar. I thought that I might be able to make the remaining stuff into bars by adding something like egg whites and honey and baking them. Then I could take one to work each day and not waste the stuff.

This morning I mentioned that very idea to my husband.

"Can you tell me when you will actually do this," he asked.

"I don't know. I am just thinking about it," I replied.

He was half laughing about it. Especially when I said I would spend a morning making them and then throw them in the bin because somehow I doubted I would actually eat them. I said I might just chuck it onto the front lawn for the birds (who could detox).

Then my husband suggested that I might just put the whole lot together with some sort of binding ingredient and hang it in the tree for the birds.

"No, no, really, I think I might make the bars. They might be nice," I said.

"I don't really like seedy bars," said my husband and then realised how funny that sounded.

"When you are young you go to seedy bars and when you are old you eat seedy bars," I duly noted.

"When you are young you go to seedy bars to pick up the birds. When you are old you use seedy bars to feed the birds," my husband mused.

I am still thinking about making the seedy bars.

But wonder if going to a seedy bar might be a better detox. If I remember correctly, I do recall doing something akin to a detox the morning after going to a seedy bar.

And it was possibly a bit more enjoyable.

Tweet.

Ciao
LC

Work Space

Just before I went overseas we moved our office from a dingy old building our front to a new one out behind us that we built over the past few months.

Below is the old office. My old and stinky desk space. This was the day after I moved my stuff.

Below is my new office space.

Okay, the desk is a wee bit untidy in the photo but I came into work, dumped my stuff on it and took a photo. At the end of each day I tidy it.

Behind me is our garden space that lets light in from the outside. The windows open in warmer weather to let the fresh air in from the open roof space. In time we will add more plants and even turtles for the pond.

This is our work kitchen.

We also have a small space with a television and dvd player. In the actual office we have a television being put up shortly.

A nice work environment makes for happy and productive staff. I am thankful that my boss and his wife are strong believers in staff being happy and work effective.

And in this office I have no dead blow flies on my desk.

No mice running around and leaving their calling card all over my desk.

No possums in the roof above my head.

No big spiders hanging around.

It's nice.

Ciao

LC

Tradition

After we finished our exciting mattress shopping day, we headed home.

We were just around the corner from home when we drove past a community centre from which loud and festive music was playing from the car park of the place.

Not just that, but there was a crowd of people around watching what was going on. The music was foreign and there were people dancing around a bonfire.

I asked my husband to stop because I wanted to go back and see what was happening. He did so and we walked back to where it was happening.

We have a large Jewish community near where we live and a lot of them are Orthodox. We see them often walking the streets on the Sabbath, their strange and interesting way of dress a fascination to me always.

So, around this bonfire were a lot of young and old Jewish Orthodox men dancing and celebrating a religious event that I think is called Lag Ba'omer. They were dressed in their black suits with snow white shirts and danced around the bonfire with hands joined.

I know a lot of people just cannot handle seeing others in religious dress and would like to just live in a secular society, but I thought that the sight of this almost ancient celebration amongst the modernity of the world was beautiful.

The small children with their ringlets, the young and old men with long beards, strange hats and prayer belts. It was something I would have liked to capture on camera but felt it to be intruding upon their celebration.

As we walked back to the car I said to my husband something along the lines of "it must be great to be part of that level of religious belief". Not so much for the religious part of it but for the community part. The sense of belonging or something.

Anyway, it was just a strange end to the day.

Coming home from shopping in places that are the epitome of consumerism and then seeing such a old tradition being embraced just around the corner from where I live.

It was kind of nice.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Shopping

My husband and I had to do the most utilitarian type of shopping.

We went mattress shopping.

Talk about a boring prospect. I hate shopping for big ticket items. Especially one as boring as a mattress. I find it stressful and utterly dreary. Walking around a big place and having to think about it all. I want to just point at a picture and say "That one, I want that" and have it turn up. But when you are buying a mattress you really have to try before you buy.

We actually needed a mattress for S as well. His mattress would be at least ten years old. Ours is ten years old as well but it was not a planned purchase at the time. We bought a new (antique) bed and had to suddenly go down from a queen size to a double size and I had to rush out and buy a smaller mattress. Double bed mattresses are not that common so I just grabbed whatever I could get.

Anyhow, I had a notion it was time to make a change especially since I have been waking up with a sore back every morning and tossing and turning all through the night.

So out we went to a few shops. Lay on a few mattresses and realised how crappy our mattress was. Hard and mean to lie on each night. We bought a big, luscious mattress with a plumpy pillow top and wonderful springs. It was also reduced hugely so I came just under my budget. We also bought one for S which was of the same deliciousness.

We have to wait for a week to get them. It may or may not fix my back problem but at least I will enjoy laying up it each night.

After I paid for it all (painful experience that was) and got my head around the fact I had made the decision after agonising for weeks and weeks, I then thought it might be time to get new pillows. My latex one is just not comfortable.

So we went over to the pillow section of the store and I spent fifteen minutes squeezing pillows before deciding that it was going to have to wait. I just cannot make too many decisions in one day.

While we were looking for mattresses we passed a giant store that specialises in kitchen appliances including stoves, ovens and fridges. We went in to have a look as that is another purchase we will be making soon.

I never knew that I could get excited about a kitchen sink.

And how ugly and boring modern ovens are.

As pleased as I was to get that sort shopping done and I no longer have to think about it, I still cannot help but feel that it was a waste of a precious Sunday.

Oh, I did do one little purchase last night.

I bought a phone app that measures your sleep pattern and then sets the alarm so that you wake up during light sleep (close to your chosen alarm time).

It has charts that show when you were in deep or light sleep or when you wake up during the night. My sleep pattern shows what I already know. I wake up all through the night, toss and turn and rarely get a deep sleep.

My sleep is so poor at the moment that I wake up every morning feeling rotten and do not wake up properly until about mid morning. I am fatigued all day and that fatigue is having such an impact on my frame of mind.

I now plan my work load around the brain fog that I have in the morning. I do the easy stuff when I get to work and tackle the complicated things after lunch. It used to be the other way around.

So I am crossing my fingers that a new mattress will help a little towards a better sleep.

Because I am a bit of a precious cow when I am sleep deprived.

Moooooo

Ciao
LC

Sprung

This morning my son came into me and said he was sick. He had on his sick face. The sort of pouty, frowny face that is meant to mean "sickness is inside me". As he informed me of his sickness, he also shuffled and pressed his hands to his stomach.

"I'm sick," he says to me, using his croaky sick voice that comes out when he wants me to know he is sick.

"What homework have you not done," I ask him.

"I've done it all Mum. I am really sick," he says.

"Sorry, unless you have a fever, a vomit or you are crapping through the eye of a needle, you are going to school. You know the rules," I said to him in the voice that means business.

It seems a bit mean of me but he does have a bit of a habit of feeling sick when he has not done something he should have. Also, I feel it is important to learn to "suck it up" sometimes and just get to work or school even if feeling a bit out of sorts. He can always come home but nine times out of ten he forgets he is sick and just gets on with the day.

So today he went to school and at 1.30pm my husband got a phone call to pick him up as he was sick.

Sick? You know, the thing is with a teenager is that have to learn the hard way that there are consequences for actions. And that parents were once children and know lots of kiddie tricks because they tried them out themselves.

My son got caught out with lie tonight.

Not a big one, but big enough to get him banned from playing Xbox on the weekend.

Just as I was heading out for a boxing class my husband got a phone call from my son's German teacher. FFS! We have never had a phone call from a teacher. Not ever.

What had happened is that my son had neglected to hand in some homework over two weeks ago. Actually, he says he gave it to a "teacher" (name unknown) and asked her to give it to his German teacher and she didn't. Ahem. Is that right?

The teacher had put a note into my son's homework book today for us to see. I opened the book and there was no sticker on the page. That was because the page had been torn out by aforementioned son.

I looked at him, he looked at me. K looked at him and he looked back at K. His face had the expression of being suddenly aware of the truth of things. He sighed.

"Okay, okay. I tore it out because I knew you would both shout at me and you always shout at me.....," said the "me child".

"You really are in the bad books aren't you? Just 'fess up and get it out into the air," I told him.

"You don't need to lie to us about that. I mean, how much trouble can you get into with us. We are only going to help you," said my husband.

He insisted he had done the homework and it was on the U drive at school. My husband said that was okay and that S could email it to me tomorrow at lunch time when he had access to the computer. At the same time he could email it to his German teacher.

Just before he went to bed I said to him that if he has not done the work it would be best to tell us now and just get things sorted. However he insisted he had done it and I would get it tomorrow. Hopefully he will email it to me.

So he is in for a tough weekend.

No Xbox.

Limited computer.

The Farmer's Market with his parents.

Maybe I will throw in a bike ride to really punish him.

How he shall suffer.

I might make him empty the dishwasher and pair socks.

Clean the toilet.

Eat vegetables.

Hehe.

Ciao
LC

Moon Thoughts

Today I left work at about 5.30 pm. I like to leave earlier but sometimes it does not happen that way. I didn't start work until just after 9.30 in the morning so I guess the day just felt longer.

When I looked out the office window at that time of night it seemed as though it was dark outside and I felt as though the night was going to fall all around me before I got home. But the windows are tinted I felt relieved when I opened the door to leave and saw that there was still a hint of lightness in the air.

I left while it was just dusk and the air was as chilly as it was when I arrived in the morning. Any warmth that had been around during the day was well and truly gone. It took about five minutes for my car to warm up enough to put the fan on. But my legs were cold and it took such a long time to feel comfortable.

My car headlights had to go on and I joined the twinkly line of traffic that was heading the same way as me.

At one point I was waiting to turn into the highway and I noticed that the moon was huge in the sky. Creamy yellow and so organic hanging up in the bluey darkness like a mournful face looking down at the line of traffic. As my car moved forward a little the position of the moon seemed to change and it perched like a giant balloon on top of the huge shopping mall roof. There it sat for a few moments like a bright light amongst all the other building lights that were around. It was surreal.

But I moved ahead, turned the corner and the moon became a vision in my rear window and eventually I could no longer see it.

As I drove along I played my music. Every time I got to one song I decided it was not what I wanted to listen to and hit the next button. Next, next, next. I felt agitated or something. Bright lights of white and red reflecting on cars that were in front and next to me. Music not hitting the spot.

I noticed that when a song started playing I did not feel that familiar mood come on. You know the mood or emotion that a song brings up when you hear it. Like a little bit of nostalgia coming through. But tonight I realised that every song was just a song. Nothing else but a tune with some words. I wondered why my attachment to the songs was not happening and I realised that it was because, right then, sitting in the car and driving home I was right in the "now" moment.

I was just in my car. The music was just music. The traffic was just moving along mindlessly. Car yards were on my right all brightly lit and the backs of houses were on my left with their half lit facades staring bleakly out at the falling darkness. It was a strange feeling. As though I was suspended in a nowhere place.

I changed from my Ipod over to the radio. The Alice Cooper show was on the radio and a song came on that felt nice and I listened to that and it took my mind somewhere other than in the traffic. I think I might have been on auto pilot as I drove the rest of the way home. Music is wonderful how it does that. You know, takes you somewhere else.

The song was Madonna's "Like a Prayer" which I loved when it came out many years ago.

The rest of the way home was taken up with thinking about the music and the moon face that was hanging up high in the sky.

When I got home I could not see the moon anymore.

Later on I sent S out to see if he could take a photo of it but it had disappeared behind some clouds.

Now I am inside a warm house and listening to the news on television. I don't have to go out an exercise and have changed into my yoga pants so that I can totally relax and enjoy the peace of the evening.

Although, I just noticed that the last of the Monte Carlo biscuits I baked on Sunday have been eaten so I might be doing some cooking tonight.

But that is a nice thing to do as well.

Ciao
LC

End Of Week Twaddle

I am going to have to think of more creative title's for my posts other than "end of week" or "blah blah blah" or "Sunday again" or "Thursday again".

Still, the title does say what it is I guess.

Now that my house is carpeted, warm and back to normal I feel the same. Well, not carpeted I suppose. Although, I have not waxed my legs for four weeks so maybe I am. Which brings me to a thought I have been having about hair removal.

I am sick of shaving my legs or getting them waxed. I hate the fact I have to let it all grow just to get it waxed off. I have two weeks of reasonably hair free legs and bikini line and then it's all down hill from there. The other thing is, well, I am now at the age where I just don't really like getting my legs waxed by someone who is half my age. Besides, it hurts have my hair pulled out and I don't like pain.

Now I know you can buy these "light pulsing, hair removing" whatever things at department stores and do it yourself, but there is no way I am doing my bikini line at home. Or my legs. Or anything (but my chin) at home. I cannot be bothered and how on earth I would be able to get to the back of my upper legs to see things properly baffles me.

And, no, I would never get my husband to assist. There are certain areas of personal upkeep that will forever remain a mystery to K and that is one of them.

So I have been researching on the internet for the most effective and painless way to have hair removed from places I feel it does not belong.

Along with effective and painless comes price. It's not cheap but I have worked out that if I get a half leg and bikini line wax every four to six weeks then over a year I spend about the same as I would spend on getting it done permanently.

Why is hair so unwanted on legs? And underarms? And bikini lines? On women? I don't know and I am not going to go natural to see if it feels liberating. Been there, done that and it ain't.

Smooth is the way.

The photo at the start of the post is from our holiday in the US. It was in a place called Muir Woods. They had the nicest cafe there and the food was so fresh and the staff were so friendly and helpful.

Oh, I just noticed in that photo a scraggy bit of grey hair was hanging out of my hat. Let that be a warning to self what happens when you let yourself go. Or that is how NOT to "do grey hair".

Plus, that is what you get when you use hotel hairdryers!

A bad hair day every day.

Ciao


LC

Grimaldi's Pizza Brooklyn

Just a few photos from the holiday.

We went to a little pizza place in Brooklyn that is quite well know.

Grimaldi's Pizzeria.

We had to wait for over an hour in a queue to get in. No bookings and cash only. It was worth it. Lovely pizza. Thin base and just like the one I had in Italy last year.

After we had the pizza we went for a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.

I really enjoyed myself. The weather was nice and the food was delicious.

Ciao

LC

SlutWalk

Don't be too alarmed by the heading of this post.

You would think that in 2011 that women could kind of be themselves just that little bit more wouldn't you?

There was a little thing that happened in Canada recently in which a representative of the Toronto Police gave the following advice;

Women should avoid dressing like sluts in order to avoid being victimised.....

Needless to say there has been quite a reaction to this comment. You can read about it in this article from The Guardian newspaper.

How about rather than all of us women having to dress in twin sets and smart slacks to avoid tempting certain types of men we make it clear that sexual assualt against anyone is wrong no matter what a clothing is being worn.

Honestly, for all our modernity we really are still a sexist and ancient society sometimes.

Ciao
LC

Books

Once a month I watch this show called "The Book Club".

It is essentially a group of writers getting together and reviewing a number of books.

Usually there is the host, two regular writers/critics and then two guests. It is one of my favorite shows and I will even watch the repeat on Sunday a number of weeks later.

I read books and I go to book club. But for the love of me I cannot review a book the way the people on the book club do.

On this show they use words I know very well but would not have sitting and waiting in my vacant brain space to be used in general conversation. They might be words I use when trying to pad out a report or something. I cannot even tell you the specific words because once they pop up they drop back into that black hole of vague knowledge that I have in my head.

When I go to book club and it is my turn to review a book I am possibly like a thirteen year old giving her opinion.

While one of the girls might describe each stage of character development throughout the book and then detail the plot, I would be struggling to come up with a descriptive word that has more than two syllables.

Generally, in my mind, the book is shite or it is not shite. Anything I say is subjective anyway. Plus, by the time it is my turn to do the book talk I might have had a glass of wine and be ready to fall asleep and just want to get past it as soon as I can.

I also like books that other people do not like. Popular Chick Lit just bores me to tears as does anything with a vampire in it. I like books that have characters that are not likable. Books that have endings that might make you feel bad or troubled.

So far, nearly every book that I liked in book club everyone else disliked and nearly every book that they liked I found so boring I had to speed read half way through. Oh, with the exception of the Stig Larsson trilogy. That was enjoyed by everyone.

Currently I am reading a book with 700 pages in it.

I have a couple of issues with books that have that many pages. They are often boring. And they usually have small writing which means I have to put my reading glasses on which is annoying (even if it makes reading easier). I usually get to the half way mark and start to flick randomly through the remainder before finally reading the last chapter. At book club all I have to say is "It was 700 pages long" and everyone knows that I can only give an opinion on the first half of it.

So the book I reading now is actually one that I bought for the book club. I knew it was going to be a bit tough to get through when, by page 14, I read the word "Dracula" and realised that I was going to really be pulling out all my "try hard" neurons to get through this. Right now I am up to page 59 and nothing is getting better. With a good book I would be flying through it with excitement and enthusiasm. I can only manage a couple of pages before deciding that sleep is indeed and more pleasing option.

Do I keep plugging away at it? It says on the front that it was a "Phenomenal Best Seller" so I am hoping for something to drag me in just a little bit more and motivate me to keep at it.

My attention span is pretty poor so I have to allow for that and try to be more patient.

Maybe it is just a shite book.

I think I might read the newspaper instead and give a review on that.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Post About Not Much

I like the weekend. Not because I am not going to work or anything. It's because I just feel that I get a mental rest from the week that has led me into the weekend. The weekend allows me to just get bits and pieces done and prepare myself for the week coming up.

Our house is settling down now that we have carpet in and the furniture is back where it should be. Things look a little more ordered. We are lucky as many neighbours still have major repairs to do after the flood damage.

My old studio is all in a mess since it was flooded and I never go in there. There is mould on the wall and the little room will dry out over time. As it is, the studio really is too small and another one is about to be built. We have room for it behind the garage.

I feel very creatively static right now. I don't do anything except plan in my head. I just don't have a place right now to feel right about getting stuck into things. Sometimes I feed the creative urge by looking at other people's things on the Internet. Or I just daydream about what I am going to do. Thank goodness for that wonderful skill I have carried with me from my childhood. The ability to completely block out the noisy world and think about what I am going to do.

Since going to therapy I must confess I am in a very calm frame of mind but feel I am having to work differently to bring out my creative urges. I feel as though they need specific attention as opposed to just tumbling around in my head all the time and causing havoc. I can see it and feel it but it feels less impulsive or perhaps less frustrated. It is not something I can describe properly.

If I were to say that prior to therapy my thoughts were like ten saucepans cooking on a stove and needing attention from me all the time to stop things spilling over, then you might understand. Now, I feel like I have managed to consolidate things to a couple of pans. The creative one is a big one that sits simmering on the back burner whilst the other two (work and home saucepans) just get attended to because they are needed to live life in a structured way.

So, the studio will be started soon. I have decided on the appearance and the materials being used. It will be very different to the old studio but definitely more purpose built.

Life is a bit different these days. Now that K is not doing music work or visiting his father in the nursing home anymore, we do a few more things together. Last night we went for a run which is much better than going on my own which I think I was just sick of. In the afternoon we went to a Farmer's Market and bought some yumny food. Right now he is cleaning up around the site where the studio will be built.

My husband said he realised how much he had missed out on because he was always playing music on weekends while S and I were out and about doing things. I said that the good aspect of that is that by me being able to spend so much time with S he and I had a really close mother and son relationship that some people never get. Now S is at the stage where he is more into his dad anyway so things have panned out in a good way.

You can't change things once they have passed and regrets are pointless. All that matters is the here and now really.

I think I am less inclined to be the "perfect person" these days. I don't see that I am a failure somehow because the house is not tidy, or all the washing and ironing is not done, or because I have not made a cake and had to buy one. You know, the perfect housewife syndrome. The syndrome that makes you think that you should be able to work full time, do all washing and ironing, all the food shopping, cooking and other stuff and that if you don't you are a bad person?

Well, I don't have that syndrome anymore. It makes life easier for me.

Now that the Oxfam walk is over and time is now my friend again, I am organising new little challenges and a couple of big ones. Apart from the studio being built I am also getting a new kitchen. After 24 years or so my kitchen needs to be updated. Well, perhaps the word "need" is not really accurate. I am now prepared to spend the money to get a new kitchen. It won't be bigger, it will be smaller and more space efficient and will allow room for a kitchen table which my brother will be making for me.

Since I could not design a kitchen in a pink fit, the wife of my Boss Barney will be helping out as she does interior design and knows all the right things to ask me when working out what I need. My desire to get orange cupboards with green bench tops won't be satisfied but the kitchen will be catering to need to stay away from bland. Sometimes you have to put some things in the hands of a person who knows better.

I am looking at some courses that I might do on the odd weekend. Things like Japanese painting comes to mind. There was a weekend course in Origami but I did wonder about that. It might make my folding of clothes very exciting.

So that is me today. Tomorrow might be a bit different and the day after, well, different again.

That is one thing I like.

A little bit of change now and then amongst the daily routine of life.

Ciao
LC

Where's Wally?

The photo below is from my holiday last year in the UK. The hat I bought in 2008 when in Scotland and I wear it all the time. It is my favorite beanie. It always comes on holiday with me. Plus I wear it on cold exercise nights until my head warms up and then it comes off.

It's my "Where's Wally" hat.

Can you see my WW hat in this photo?

What about in this photo.

Me and WW hat on a park bench.

Travelling the train.

Milling around in Time Square.

My son wore it just this once when we went to Ripley's Believe It Or Not.

Then I had my head chopped off and stuffed in a jar. My WW hat was kept on for scientific purposes.

I love my Where's Wally hat. It has no class. Just a stripey little head warmer.

I might wear it to bed tonight.

Ciao

LC

Another Day In New York

We stepped out mid morning to make our way over to Manhattan for some touristy action.

My son had finally adjusted to the different time zone.

We went to the Guggenheim which was great. I love the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and this is one of his iconic designs.

During the visit my son started up a very intense and drawn out discussion with me about what constituted good art and how did some paintings get to hang in the Guggenheim when they were clearly "shit". After fifteen minutes of a fairly elevated discussion I had to send him over to K to talk about it. There was no definitive answer.

We did the Planet Hollywood thing to have something to eat. Well, we tried to have something to eat. It was the most horrible food. I always question menus that have photos of the food.

Anyway, the food was shite. My son ordered what read like a milk shake but was too sickly sweet to drink. I had bruschetta but the tomatoes were sweet as was my juice. Just not our style of food. My husband went to the toilet (bathroom, restroom, comfort station) and came back with a perplexed look on his face. They had toilet attendants which was kind of freaky. The guy opened the door for him and when he had finished the same guy was standing there with a soap dispenser so that K could wash his hands. He then handed K a paper towel to dry up with.

K wondered if he should have tipped him for the service but I said that was just too weird for words.

Tipping is a strange concept for us. In Australia you don't tip unless you get really exceptional service and even then it is not expected. I think that is because our wages are higher than those in the US and people are not dependant on tipping to supplement their income. I guess that is why things are more expensive here.

But we tipped according to what was suggested by the owner of the guest house we were staying at.

I had my photo taken with some very lovely policemen in Times Square. It was kind of cute and funny because it reminded me of the movie Police Academy.

We had to do the Madame Tussauds visit again. It was different to the one in London but fun in its own way.

Elle Macpherson was taller and thinner than I could have imagined. Her thighs were as narrow as my calves.

No idea who this guy was, but he was pretty tall.

Then I came face to, er, um, crotch with The Hulk.

Went home on the Subway which I loved. Train travel is great. We had one day where we got on the train at peak hour and the crowd was unbelievable. Worse than in Rome and that was bad. It was so squashy I had to laugh. Talk about invading personal space.

We were back late afternoon and pretty tired. My son retired to his room where he watched television and dvd's into the evening. My husband and I talked to the other people who were staying at the guest house. It was a lively evening.

It seemed to take all day to do what seems like not much. But we did the open top bus trip as well which took us around all the different parts of New York and that took up a couple of hours.

It was interesting seeing things that we had heard of. I was fascinated how the schools where just on the street and not on big blocks with green land surrounding then.

Central Park was huge and I imagine it is like the lungs of the city.

Manhattan is the sort of place you should stay in for a few weeks and be an observer as opposed to a tourist. It needs that sort of attention.

It's a big and bright place.

With lots of people and we were three little ants running around feeling lost.

Ciao

LC