Freaky Fingers

My son has freaky fingers. They are double jointed.

It affects how he holds a pen or pencil.

Or how he plays his clarinet.

When he curls his fingers you can feel they are articulated and go click, click, click.

He has to work out how to play the clarinet without his fingers locking up.

It's a bit of a challenge but he is happy to perservere to get his own style.

He cracks his knuckles which helps to loosen them a bit.

Strange.

Ciao

LC

Saturday, Studio, Son

On Friday my son had to dress in the style of Medieval. I made up this peasant/serf outfit which did the job very well.

At 7.30 in the morning he suddenly said that he needed 300 grams of ham to take to school. We figured there must be some sort of medieval banquet planned and that he had been asked to bring ham. So my husband bought it and it went to school with my son.

In the evening I asked how he went and he said it was all good. He then told me that a lot of the ham was eaten which surprised him. When I asked why that would surprise him he told me that everyone had brought things like chips and lollies.

"So, why on earth did you bring ham?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just had to bring something for a party and the only thing that came to mind was ham," he told me.

"Ham? 300 grams of ham? Your friends must have thought that was a bit odd," I said.

"Yeah, they wanted to know why I brought ham and I did not really have an answer," he replied.

So the ham sat in a plastic bag on the table amongst all the cakes, lollies and chips like an outsider. Not sure just how popular it was. But it was a talking point.

My new studio was started last week. I took some photos of the progress.

It's great when someone else is doing it all.

It is very exciting for me. Yesterday we went and chose the light for the room. Initially I had a thought that something funky would be great but I decided to go for the most practical one.

The sides have since been painted black.

You can see the old studio. That will become a bike shed for all our bikes. Which will make room in the garage for other stuff.

Yesterday morning I went to the hairdressers.

Going to the hairdressers is one of my favorite activities. Catch up with my hairdresser who is a great friend, read trashy mags and then leave the place looking better than I did when I arrived.

After the hairdressers I always walk down the street and check out all the shops. I have a few favorites I look into. Have lunch somewhere nice. Stop for a coffee in one of the small coffee shops. Look at the book shop and see what is new. It's a particularly nice day for me.

However, something was different yesterday. Two of the clothes shops that had been there for ever had sadly closed. The book shop I frequent was open for the last day and all but empty of books. The health food cafe I like to have lunch in was completely full so I went into a Jewish bakery and bought some cakes to take home instead and gave the lunch a miss.

It kind of made me sad to see these changes and it took a few hours for my mood to pick up again. I understand change is inevitable but I don't have to like it.

So I went home and ate a huge, sugary and delicious meringue which made me feel marginally better.

Then K and I went down to Acland Street and had coffee. I ate a chocolate rum ball. Then a Florentine. I thoroughly enjoyed both.

Sometimes it is just okay to use food as a mood lifter.

So, that was part of my weekend.

Ciao

LC

Smokin'

I have, over the years, spoken to my son about drug use.

Having a sister who spent ten years of her life smoking dope morning, noon and night gave me a bit of an insight as to why people end up using drugs.

Anyway, I never say that drugs are bad. If he tries them and they make him feel good then he will think I am full of rubbish.

So I say to him that drugs feel great when you take them but there are consequences and I then tell him some of those consequences. For example, I showed him some photos on people who take meth. Or I remind him of how my younger sister lived for years because she had a drug habit to support. There can be long term health problems as well.

It is just not that straightforward anyway.

But as a parent you can bet that the question will one day come up as to whether or not you have used drugs. One day my son asked if I had and I told him about one little dope smoking episode in my life.

It was years ago. Maybe 1981. I had a boyfriend called Andrew who was a bit of a private school prat but a nice sort. One day we caught up with two of his friends and went for a drive into the city. We shared a couple of joints around in the confines of the small car as we made our way in.

By the time we got to the Botanical gardens it would be fair to say that we were all really in a happy place. We walked around for a while before laying on the smooth green grass to rest and look up at the blue sky.

It was in Summer. The late afternoon air was warm and at an arena not far from us George Benson was performing at a concert. His beautiful music drifted through the still air, hung amongst the leafy branches of the trees and then into my head. I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling. The world was, at that moment, exceptionally beautiful.

I can still recall my heightened senses as though it were yesterday.

Of course, everything has to come to an end and that includes being stoned. Within two hours of that wonderful experience I felt like someone had driven an axe down the centre of my head and left me a giant headache. We went to a Greek restaurant where I ate a garlicky kebab and drank come soft drink.

The next morning I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth thanks to the greasy kebab. The headache was still there along with the memory of that nice afternoon at the gardens.

It's not really an off putting story is it? I mean, I could have said all sorts of dire things. Or lied and said I have never smoked dope in my life. But what is the point of that. He asked me, I told him.

He laughed when he heard the story.

And then I added that the day would have been just a great without smoking a joint in the car. I might not have remembered it quite as clearly maybe? Not sure.

I just say to my son that whatever choices he makes, they are his choices and he has to live with the consequences. My love for him will never lessen no matter what he does. My worry for him would increase. But my love would be as steady and strong no matter what.

I do have to add the warning that having a family with a history of mental health problems may put him at a greater risk of bigger issues if he adds drug use to the formula.

In telling him that story I suppose I just wanted him to know that sometimes parents do things that they realise they don't really want their own children to do.

And that the choices parents make are the ones that they and their children live with in the end.

Something about learning by others mistakes comes to mind.

Who knows.

Just trying to be an okay parent.

Ciao
LC

Cooking Shows

I hate cooking shows. Every television station has at least one, if not ten, on them each week.

Then there are cooking segments on morning shows.

That's because I hate cooking. The basic meat and three veg is about the only thing that holds my interest. And I don't eat it. I just dish it up to be eaten by K and S.

I can cook if I really, really have to. Soups, stews, pasta sauces and the like. Then freeze as much as I can so that I do not have to endure the utter boredom of cooking them for a couple of weeks.

Baking is okay. Generally I don't need more than half a dozen ingredients and it is pretty easy to whip up a cake.

But chop vegetables, saute anything or contemplate a recipe that requires more than six ingredients will ensure my utter disinterest pretty quickly.

I hate how cooking has become this big wanky gourmet thing. Outdoor BBQ areas that are geared up like and indoor kitchen really intrigue me. I put them on par with movie rooms. I don't think they are social things. I think they stop people going out.

In fact, in Melbourne there have been restaurants doing a roaring trade cooking BASIC foods like casserole, meat and three veg and bread and butter pudding because people are sick of anything with "jus" in the recipe and just want boring again.

It's just all a big wankity wank.

If I want to catch up with six people for dinner I would rather eat out at some cheap Italian restaurant and that is it. Let someone else cook and clean.

However, I will watch Nigella Lawson do her cooking thing because I don't think it matters what she dishes up, it would be eaten.

She looks great.

Ciao
LC

Friday 17th June

I had the day off work today.

I had vaguely planned it in my head during the week and when I woke up this morning I made up my mind that a well earned sleep in was more favorable than going to work.

So I did just that. Slept in and stayed away from work. But it was okay because I got a lot done during the week so there was nothing urgent outstanding. I have just checked my work email and had only two very dull emails sitting there so I was not missed.

This morning a large delivery of timber arrived at my place. The materials for my new studio are now sitting in the driveway waiting to be utilised on Monday. Now I feel excited. It took a while and I actually was getting a bit cross about how long it was taking because I actually need the space not just to do my art in, but also to put things in that are clogging up the garage.

I am going to take loads of photos of it being built because it is very different to my first little studio. Larger in size and more modern in appearance. A better work space for me.

In the afternoon I suggested to my husband and son that we go to the National Gallery of Victoria for the new exhibition that is opening tomorrow. As a member of the gallery I was one of the lucky ones to see it one day earlier which meant less crowds.

The exhibition was Vienna: Art and Design. It was fabulous. I walked around with the audio guide while K and S walked around talking about different things.

In the exhibition were a few beautiful Gustav Klimt paintings and drawings. He really is my all time favorite artists and it was great to see his work in the flesh so to speak. There were also many Egon Schiele works and his beautiful melancholy style was very moving.

When I said to my son he was coming with he had a bit of a moan about it all and asked why he had to go when he hates art galleries. I just said that it was okay to not like them but it was not okay to not be exposed to them and the last thing I wanted was an culturally ignorant son.

My husband said that S talked non stop through the whole exhibition about everything. He made comments on painting styles, furniture design and made comparisons between what he saw at the Guggenheim in New York and what he saw today. He preferred the style of what he viewed here. So he took a lot in.

At the end of it all we had a late lunch and S said to me 'well, what did I get out of that hmmm?" and I replied that he had something put into his head that would be with him always. It was an experience and only added to his mind as opposed to taking from his knowledge. I know he enjoyed it but he liked to deny it. And my husband thought it was great. It was nice to have them both sharing the experience with me.

Came home and on television I saw that the cast from I Dream Of Jeannie were in Australia for some reason and they were being interviewed. In front of them on a table was one of those lovely I Dream Of Jeannie bottles. I have always wanted one. Actually, I have always wanted to live in one. But I have found a place that sells the bottles and I will buy a couple and decorate them. Just for the fun of it.

Yesterday I went to my doctor's to get results from blood tests that were done last week. It all came back fine except my iron levels are low so that explained my horrible tiredness.

During the consultation he noted that my cholesterol levels had gone up slightly. They were now at 4.4 which is still low however it is much higher than I used to be. Years ago I was 1.9 and too low and added dairy back into my diet. Two years ago I was up to 3.4 and that was fine. As I don't eat meat, hardly any dairy and almost no junk food apart from chocolate I was kind of pissed off that my levels had increased as my diet is good.

You see, I have always been a bit smug about my low cholesterol and my low blood pressure. Yes, smug is the word because my husband has high cholesterol and, until previously, high blood pressure and I do not. Even if he ate a vegan diet his cholesterol will be higher than mine because his body makes more cholesterol than mine naturally. So he has to take medication for that. As for his high blood pressure, his significant exercise regime has changed that problem.

Needless to say, I was gobsmacked to see my levels rise so much and asked the doctor why this had happened.

"Oh, just part of getting older?' he told me.

WTF? Yet another crappity crap part of the aging process. My cholesterol levels are rising naturally with the aging process. He reassured me that my lipids would never be an issue because my good cholesterol is rising as well. It's a very natural and healthy level for my age.

Since then I have been totally gutted. I can no longer give that smug "my cholesterol is lower than yours" smile to my husband. Although, the low blood pressure is a never changing thing.

But seriously, here I am doing all the right things. Eating very well, exercising a lot, don't drink, don't smoke and watch my weight and still the aging process is doing its stuff on the sly. Ha! I am going to get that cholesterol down and go back to a vegan diet (no animal products at all). It is not that hard. I have done it beforehand so know what to do. Although, it does make one a social pariah. And I am soy intolerant so that makes it a bit tougher.

Now I am on the internet looking for recipes for vegan cakes and biscuits to make as a treat.

But there is one thing I won't give up.

Chocolate.

Yep, not given that up ever.

I have had dairy free chocolate and it is not nice.

Ciao
LC

Work Whine

I don't often blog from work because I am too busy and it just is not good work ethic.

But today I am because I am in a bit of a shitty mood and am having a fifteen minute work skive. My boss and I had a discussion about something and the tone of the conversation left me feeling out of sorts. It is too difficult to explain why but you know how someone can say something and the other person can take it to heart when really they just don't need to? Well, that was our conversation today. Now I have to go through the range of negative emotions to get out the other side so I am allowing myself to vent.

You know, I have a great job. Get paid well. But sometimes I am just so sick of it. Same, same and more same.

I have to admit that I am bored with work. And shitty with that boredom.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Shitty.

Shitty.

Shitty.

Does that make me ungrateful?

Okay, then I am that too.

Ungrateful.

Ungrateful.

Ungrateful.

Actually, I am tired. Tired to the core and that makes me irrational.

Tired.

Tired.

Tired.

Irrational.

Irrational.

Irrational.

I want to go home. I could go home. Right now. I could clean up my desk and say I have to go and that would be okay.

But that is today and tomorrow I will be back to normal.

In the meantime I shall just be;

Bored.

Shitty.

Ungrateful.

Tired.

Irrational.

And tell everyone about it.

Anyway, the office is empty now so I can just do what I like instead of doing what I should.

I just might do that too.

Nyah, nyah, nyah.

Ciao

LC

My Father and My Son

For those who may not know, I have not spoken to my father for around ten years.

Actually, he has not spoken to me for around ten years.

It's complicated and I cannot say my father is the nicest guy around.

Anyway, my son came home today with the strangest story.

His maths teacher said to S that he had had a cup of coffee with his grandfather on the weekend and what a nice guy he was. He also added that his grandfather was very proud of his grandson. Grandson being my S of course.

My son had to think who he was talking about at first since his other grandfather had recently passed way.

Then he recalled morfar (my dad), his other grandfather.

"Oh, really? I have not seen him for ten years," he told his maths teacher.

Which made me think about how it was kind of sad that my son had no relationship with my dad. For although my dad was really a most frightening person as a father, as a grandfather he was pretty good. Well, except perhaps the time he went to hit me and my little apple cheeked son stepped in between to defend me.

But apart from that, I never feel I have the right to stop my son having a relationship with my dad. And despite the way my father was to me (and the whole family) I am kind of thinking about being peaceful with it all (after fairly intense therapy).

In fact, the other day I was driving past my dad's bakery and thought it would be nice to see him and then I recalled the words of my therapist;

"Linda, if every time you went to pat a dog and it bit you and made you cry why would you keep going back to pat it?"

Meaning, of course, that the few times I have spoken to my father over the past ten years he has managed to set me back emotionally so far that it takes absolute weeks to get over and even then I am not really ever over it.

So, I don't want to reconnect with him but do think that it is important for my son to know the other side of my father. Because he does have a great side and I like to focus on that aspect to his personality. Possibly because I am a lot like my dad in some ways and to deny that is to deny myself really.

Anyway, I said to my husband that it was okay if he dropped by the bakery with S and said hello to my dad.

I think he is worried that to go there may open the possibility that my father will drop in here or something and I am not really up to that. In fact, just the thought of it made me feel dizzy with anxiety and sick in the stomach.

But I doubt he will turn up at my front door. Too much time has passed for that I think.

He'll probably do something like offer my son a part time job at the bakery.

He always was into using family members to work at his business. It made for cheap labour.

Actually, that is not really funny.

Fortunately the bakery is too far away for that to happen.

Phew!!

Ciao
LC

Invisible

Today when I went to the shops today I was invisible.

I wore no make up.

And my yoga pants.

Yep, I schlepped it to the shopping centre.

I did have my hair blow dried though. Cannot be lower my standards too much.

It meant I could itch my eyes and rub my face without worrying about smudging my make up.

Sometimes it is nice to do that. And I don't do it often.

Today after exercise I was talking to another girl about my tattoo. She said "Isn't the pain of a tattoo great?" and I agreed. It is kind of satisfying on a level that is very cerebral. I would have them all over my back but it would not go down well at home. Besides, I like my back as it is.

Anyway, digressing here. She was telling me that she had her lip colour tattooed every three months because she actually has no lips. I looked closer and could see she had some significant scar tissue underneath the pink colour of the tattoo.

I asked her what happened.

When she was seven two boys (aged four and seven) tipped methylated spirits on her and set her alight. She was very, very badly burned all over. She added that it was that incident that was the reason why she was in therapy all the time.

Generally, she has all of her body covered (arms and legs) but sometimes she wears three quarter running skins and you can see the dreadful scarring on her lower leg. When I first saw the damage a few months ago I wondered if she self harmed because we had previously spoken about her eating disorders and how she manages them. But the scarring was too vast for that.

So today she was also talking about how she was trying to find some good running skins to give her legs more compression. However she was finding it hard to get ones that did not show up all her thick scar tissue underneath. Plus some of them that gave good compression showed up the lack of muscle she has due to the damage from the burn. The lack of muscle also adds to the constant problems she has with her piriformis muscle.

"You know how it is? You just don't want people to see your lumpy skin underneath the material do you?" she said.

Well, I just could not say "yeah, I hate it when people might see my cellulite underneath the fabric of my yoga pants" could I. I mean, really, there is no comparison between my cellulite problem and her scar damage problem is there?

Later on in the afternoon when I was at the shops being invisible I thought I might try on a pair of pants at one store. In the dressing room I caught the reflection of my semi naked body and went "hmmmmmm, fluro lights show everything" and felt a bit blah.

But I also thought how it must be for the girl at exercise class with the scar tissue over her body. And how it must have been going through her teenage years in compression garments. And having to have the tight scar tissue cut to release the pressure from the tightness as she grew up and tall and the skin could not stretch with her.

And how surgeons operated on her mouth and made lips for her but she has to still have them tattooed to get colour.

And how her self esteem suffered terribly and of how brave she was.

And of how fast she runs in class and of how open and friendly she is as a person and how she suffers a lot privately.

And I thought of how she weighs all her food and won't touch food that she has not prepared because she is fearful of germs. And of how that helps her in a way that she cannot explain but she knows I get it.

And of how my cellulite is perfectly normal and okay and I can fix it if I really, really gave a shit about it.

Sometimes you just know when to complain and when not to.

Because I really do not have anything to complain about.

I bought the clothes.

And I enjoyed being invisible today.

Ciao
LC

Finally, A Post!

I don't know where the week has gone but it certainly went fast.

We had a three day weekend here. Monday being a public holiday as it was the Queen's Birthday.

The weather was perfect. Blue skies and crispy air. Perfect weather for gardening. Pity I did none. Instead I took advantage of the sales that are on and went shopping. Amongst other things, the main thing I bought was a new camera. A biggun. And took a few random shots. Only on auto - I need to relearn how to use the DSLR and take some more interesting photos.

Not that there was much interesting to take a shot of in the front yard. But I took a few anyway. It was Sunday morning and all hazy.

On the Sunday we went for a long drive down to a place that we have been to many times. Tyabb Packing House. And has been our favorite place for a family drive. Until now. On Sunday it was crowded. Far too many people. Had to wait ages to get a table to have a cup of tea. They only have two women's toilets in the place which is ridiculous. Plus, in the toilet there was no hook on the back of the door to hang my handbag. What a juggling act. Sheesh, no way was my bag going on that floor.

Took a few shots of my very teenage son.

I like the way this camera is so clear and sharp. The colours are captured perfectly.

K had the scones and jam.

I ask myself why S does not smile. He hates his smile is the explanation he has given me and I recall I hated my smile too at that age. And my chubby cheeks as well as my thick lips. It all worked out as I got older.

Lots of books to buy. But I just love the look of them.

I think the look of books on shelving is beautiful. So many words to consider beyond to covers.

In this part of the place they sell movie posters.

And other movie paraphernalia. I came eye to eye with the beautiful Betty Boop but she had nothing much to say but 'boop boopy doop". So I took a photo of her ageless beauty. She would not look me in the eye. Coy gal.

At this place anything old has a value. Personally I don't see the dollar value of most of the items. Basically, most of it is crappity crap. But the display of everything is done so well that the prospective customer wants what they see. Once home the tat is like a souvenir bought in some far off holiday destination. It looks out of place totally and loses its appeal.

But I do see the appeal of an old paint spattered wooden ladder.

I love the dolls heads in this bowl.

Creepy close up.

Today I did a nice, hard exercise class. Bit of tidying up. I had to go back to the shops to exchange some things. It took so long to exchange the items and I was one of those annoying customers that people queue behind wondering what on earth is going on.

I have more to write about but might finish this post off for now and make myself a cup of tea.

This is just a catch up blab post.

And I have certainly blabbed.

Ciao

LC

Sunday Eve

I had an okay weekend. It was a mix of blah and a nice.

However, I was mean to my brother on Friday night (which he did not deserve) and that kind of upset me all weekend. I am never, ever mean to him. Really, never. Fortunately, as I type this things are resolved and he has forgiven me for my hormonal outburst. In fact, he said there is nothing to forgive - shit happens and I am his sister and he loves me.

Which leads me to my current problem. Well, maybe problem is not the word because it is just life. My hormones which have been the bane and hell of my life have recently reared their ugly heads. Over the past couple of years I was feeling pretty cruisy hormonally, at least compared to they way I have been over the years. But now, with the possibility of menopause creeping along near me, things seem to be changing. I cannot tell that well because having had a hysterectomy I don't have the end of my period to inform me. (is that okay to use the word period? how about menses instead?).

However, I do have fatigue, poor sleep patterns, night sweats, confusion and other things. Then again, that could be something else so I am getting a blood test this week to rule out or rule in something like low iron. Could be just mood swings. Dunno.

Anyway, I have been going to a Chinese doctor and getting acupuncture and herbs. Some people think that alternative medicine is a crock of shite but I think it has value. If it makes me feel better then that is a good thing. If it makes no difference then I will try something else. My own GP is a big believer in Western and Chinese medicine working together.

Yesterday I went to her feeling fragile, anxious, agitated, worn out, headachey and sporting a sore neck. She gave me acupuncture and put a herbal patch on the place where my neck was aching. Within an hour of having the acupuncture I had no headache and the pain in my neck was subsiding. And very relaxed. The anxiety was at a manageable level and my agitation was less troubling.

The down side is that the herbal plaster patch smelt totally disgusting. I spent the next 24 hours carrying around me a foul odour. But it worked a dream and that is what counts.

Yesterday K and I went for a walk down Chapel Street which is a busy shopping area not far from us. We had lunch at a groovy cafe that played good music. I was pretty tired but hungry by that time of the afternoon. K took a fuzzy photo of me with the Hipstomatic app on my phone (aka phone battery muncher) and although it is over bright it makes me look YOUNGER. So I am uploading it.
We went next door into a place called Chapel Street Bazaar which has been around for ever and a day. It sells second hand goods. You can tell which generation is dying off by looking at what is for sale. I love the chaos of each stall. The stall below are my favorite.

It has lots of things to look at. I would have bought some of the items but I have nowhere to put them yet. The new studio has to be built and then I can put some bits and pieces in there.

In the photo below, on the left, is a box full of milk bottles. When I was little we had milk delivered to our house by the milkman with his horse and cart. Each bottle was sealed with a foil cap and the birds would peck at it in the early morning.

Now the milk bottles sell for $18 each. I will buy some later on, if they are still there.

Then I took a photo these numbers which of course are the year of my birth. There was a pile of the numbers six and three which was funny.

So that was Saturday. It was nice weather with blue sky and sunshine.

This morning I woke up late because I had been awake for a couple of hours in the middle of the night. My head was thick and my general mindset was a rotten combination of tired and teary.

It took ages to get moving. I really had to force myself to get out of bed but I know the rules when feeling like this. Don't feed the mood. Get out of bed. Have the shower. Get dressed. Do my hair and make up. Doing those things puts my head back into a place that works for me.

Did clothes washing. Read the newspaper. Made myself breakfast. Just did my best to relax.

K and I went out to have coffee. We did ask S to come with but he is at that age where he relishes some time to himself at home. He actually said to us on Friday that this weekend he did not want to go out of the house at all. We said okay.

So we went out, had a coffee, bought bread and stuff and dropped in to see K's sister on the way home. I don't see her much because she does not like to get out of the house and suffers dreadfully from depression. It's rotten having to deal with that sort of problem day in and day out for her.

When I got home I made my son something to eat and then went food shopping.

I made dinner.

Rang my brother. We talked for a while. He was very understanding. I think my mum and sister had a word with him to go easy on me. He can be a bit bombastic sometimes and say the wrong thing. Although, at the moment I am a bit of a rotten egg and fragile to any perceived criticism.

I feel a bit drained. But I got stuff done which was good.

Have also made a decision to go back to visit the therapist.

I think I need some housekeeping for my head.

It's feeling a bit overcrowded in there again.

Ciao

LC

Coney Island

While we were staying in Brooklyn we took a train trip to Coney Island.

There is actually a bit of a connection between Coney Island in Brooklyn and Australia. We have a Coney Island in Sydney and Luna Park in Melbourne.

The train trip took a while, with numerous stops along the way. Each place we stopped at gave us a view of the different types of buildings and homes.

The park itself was not open but there was a hot dog shop open which I believe to be quite well known. Nathan's Famous Franfurters. K and S naturally had to go in and indulge. The both agreed the flavour was delicious. I personally think that the term "food" does not apply to the stuff myself.....

The day was so beautiful. Sunshine and warm air. Blue sky with scattered clouds. The water was still and the sand stretched out so far. I think it was one of those wonderful days where we could enjoy the place without crowds.

The boardwalk was fantastic to walk along.

I loved the beach side seediness of the building behind me.

We did not go to the aquarium itself because we have been to a few aquariums over the years and not much changes in each one. You know, fish, crabs and other crabs and fish. But the entrance was appealing.

Look at the lovely sand and water behind me. Had it been a hot day I imagine it would be filled with people sunbaking and swimming. So we were lucky to have it so empty.

At every beach side there has to be the icecream van.

Random photo with a glimpse of the roller coaster. How I wish it had been open because I love roller coasters. You are never to old to get on one and scream.

I love this photo. The light sticking its head up like an ostrich looking around. The background of cars, buildings and the train station. All so near the beach. This mix of seaside and city.

So that was our time at Coney Island.

Ciao

LC

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