December 30th 2011

It's my birthday today. 

Number Forty Eight. 

So Happy Birthday To Me.

We went out for breakfast with my brother and his clan.  The place we ate at was a lovely cafe in a swishy suburb.  Lots of delicious choices to ponder.  I had a big vegetarian breakfast and it came with home made baked beans which I love.  My brother gave me his baked beans and then K offered up his but even I have my limits on how much food I can fit in my stomach.   Obviously not a popular item and perhaps not the best thing for me to eat with my track record of farting.  Haha. 

Anyway, one of the little gifts I got was this thing below.  Some bull dog clips with words embellished on them.  

As my sister in law handed them over to me she said "We thought of you the moment we saw it".  

Hmmmmm, now, what does that say about my reputation?   

I have a similar set at work in red and when I brought them into work Bossman's wife said "Oh, that is so you Linda".  

I really need to raise my standards.

The breakfast was enough to keep me going until about 5.30 pm when I came into the house and had a snack.

I have spent the day in the studio just pottering around making a giant mess and not having the success I like to have.  But that is just how things go.  I was distracted quite a bit by bits and pieces I kept coming across.  Which is a nice diversion.

Having this week off has been a wonderful thing because I can just move at my own pace.  Go to bed when I feel like it and sleep in until I feel like getting up.  This time of year is a regular slouch for me.  I have to remember to do things like the washing or to eat.  Or to eat properly should I say and not to eat chocolate and Christmas biscuits.

Yesterday I went to work for a few hours to pay the end of month bills.  You would not think that paying bills could take so long would you but it did.  I was sensible enough to bring milk with me so that I could make coffee when I got into work.  It was great being there alone and just listening to music and not have the phone ring once.

Although the tradesmen are coming back on the 3rd of January, I will still be taking it very easy until the following week.  I need to recharge my batteries completely before getting back to work.  It's a very busy year this year, in fact, so busy that we are taking on another person in the office to help.  We are all a bit nervous because getting someone to fit in is going to be a challenge.  But we are all good to work with and the women who is coming on board seems very nice.  Unlike the last one I had who grew dope in her garage and sold it (and got charged)  and smoked a bong every night while at the same time telling her own daughter not to.

Plus she used to eat ALL the biscuits in the place and drink at least ten cups of coffee a day.  When I went on holiday once I came back to the work load from hell.  All she had done was put everything in a pile alphabetically and not do anything with it.  She really was difficult.  I know I blogged a few times about her but I don't think I did her justice.

She ended up moving miles away and getting into dog breeding.  It all worked out in the end.

On another subject completely and a silly one at that, I must make note of a conversation that transpired between myself and on of the Oxfam team members.

The other night K and I went for a walk.  Not a doodly walk.  I don't do doodly walks.  It was a hard walk.  Not that that bit of information is important, I just want you to know that I don't dawdle when I walk.  It's something of which I am very proud.  My husband has to take 1.5 steps to my single stride.  Of course, he can run faster than me but I can out walk him any day.

So we are on this walk and we meet up with this Oxfam friend and her husband and we got talking about my shopping experience at Chadstone and all the young gals who looked like Kim Kardashian.  This friend has three daughters, two of whom are 15 year old twins.

Then the conversation went like this:

R:  God, if you hate Kim Kardasian don't come to my house.  My two girls want to be like her.  You should see them.

Me: Really?  Do your girls wear those denim shorty shorts and skimpy tops no matter the weather?

R: Fuck yes.  Dresses up to here (indicating point just below bum cheeks) and they show off their long legs.  Makes me sick to the stomach.  You really cannot tell them.

Me: I would never have worn such a thing at that age.  Aren't they worried about the attention they might get?

R: No, they like the attention they get.  It's pretty tame.  They don't go out very far wearing that stuff.

Me: I just did not have the confidence to wear that sort of clothing.  It's not slutty, it's just skimpy.  I just never felt confident to wear skimpy things very often.

R: Me neither.  It's just not right.

Then some silence.

Me: I'm jealous.

R: Yeah, me too.  Jealous as hell.

Me: Yeah, I am about that jealous too.

Then we parted ways.  Two middle aged women feeling very middle aged.

Ciao
LC

Sunshine On Tuesday

It's Tuesday.

Normally I would be at work on a Tuesday.  Doing the wages.  Going through paperwork.  Working out where the money is coming from and what invoices are due to be sent out.

I'd come into the office.  Drop my bag in the third drawer.  Put my phone on the desk, near the key pad, on the left hand side.  Sit down and move the computer mouse to wake up the big Mac.  Bring my pens out from their hiding place.  Go through emails.  Chat to whoever is in the office.

I'd make a coffee.  Then get to work.

Right now, however, I am sitting at the table on the back verandah.  It's that nice quiet time of year that I love.  The aftermath of the Christmas frenzy.  I can hear the train in the background making its way to the station not far from our house.  The neighbour drags their wheelie bin from the front nature strip and its wheels rattle loudly on the paved driveway.

The weather is warm.  That beautiful warmth that lets you sit outside without getting too hot.  Its windy and the trees are moving around and making my favourite sound of leaves rustling.

We have noisy birds near us.  Their screeching interrupts the peacefulness of the day but I don't mind them because they are birds and just doing their bird thing.

I feel I should do something productive.  In the morning I managed a few half hearted domestic duties.  Washed the dishes, folded some washing and went up to the street to get a loaf of bread.  That was after getting out of bed at around 10.00 am.

But now, now I just want to relax.  Close my eyes and listen to the warm wind and the creak of the hard plastic verandah roof above my head as it expands and contracts under the sun.

I wonder what the grass would be like to lie on. It's been raining so I still think it might be wet under the green blanket.   Were I not feeling so lazy I would put a towel down on the damp grass and lie in the sunshine.  But it seems too hard right now.

There's so much to do.  So much I want to do.  Go in the studio.  Make my bed.  Go for a walk.  Buy something from the art shop.  Read a book.

But it's so seductive just sitting out here at the table just listening to the warmth of the day drift by.

Later.

I'll do all those things later.

Right now I will just close my eyes and feel all the delights of a summery day make its way through me.

Ciao
LC

Boxing Day Twaddle

Well, Christmas is over.

Just like that.  Until next year.

Yesterday we did a couple of Christmas visits in the morning and then came home and plonked around the house.  My son and I watched the Director's cut of Blade Runner and I loved every bit of it.  He enjoyed it and said it was not bad for a twenty year old movie.  I went for a walk in the afternoon only to get drenched in a sudden storm and had to be picked as I stood shivering under a tree while thunder and lightening went on all around me.  And, yes, I do know one should not stand under a tree in a thunder storm.  But I also know that I could have been struck by lightening had I been walking out in the street.

So my exercise effort was thwarted by rain.

Today I have to confess that I went to the Boxing Day sales at Chadstone (aka HELL).   K dropped me off nearby because the chance of finding a parking spot would have been nil.

What can I say, it was unbelievable. Crowded and noisy.  I don't know why I went.  It must be for the experience or something.

I did have a gift voucher given to me by my son for Christmas and wanted to go to the shop to redeem it.  The shop is called Peter Alexander and sells pyjamas and pyjama related accessories.  I had bought things from the shop years ago and loved what they had.   So I went in there, or should I say I squeezed in there and starting going through the stuff on offer.

I noticed a few things.  Firstly, I was the oldest person in the shop.  Secondly, baby doll pyjamas are in vogue.  Thirdly, the wearing of cutesy undies that say the word "bite me" across the bum are a popular item.  As are 1950's style undies with frills all over them.  Either I had gotten older and my tastes had changed or, oh wait, there is no "or".  I have gotten older and my taste in pi's has changed.

Really, my taste has not changed but the quality of bed wear has.  And the target market has changed.  I don't want neck to knees in flannel but I would like nice fitting quality bed wear made with fabrics that have interesting designs on them.  Not cheap material made by underpaid labour in poor countries and then sold for a huge profit in a shop in Chadstone.   The stuff looked and felt cheap but the price did not reflect that.  

I did find a few cutesy things to buy and made my way out and back into the crowds.  Lots of Kim Kardashian look alikes were teetering along on hooved shoes, three abreast and chattering away.

As I went into a few shops I noticed something that intrigued me.  Lots of young couples shopping together.  Not just shopping together but both showing a nauseating interest in the act of shopping.  Young men deep in dialogue with their girlfriends about make up, underwear and clothing.  Seriously deep in dialogue in a deep and meaningful way.  I would freak if K really gave a flying fuck about my shopping choices.

When I got home from there I raided the pantry to find food to eat because I hardly ate when shopping because it was so crowded.  It was full of bits and pieces from a couple of Christmas hampers that I had been given.  I have to say something about the stuff that is packed in hampers.  It's shit.  Obscure and disgusting crap.  I think I had to throw out half of it.  Are Christmas hampers the place to dump unsellable food or experimental concoctions?

What's on for tomorrow?

Nothing.

A sleep in.

A schlepping around.

Nice.

Ciao
LC

Christmas Eve

Today was Christmas for me.   I love Christmas.  I love everything about it.  Even the things I hate about it. 

However, I don't like the lack of parking when I need to go to the shops but I do love the hustle and bustle of it.  I am fascinated by the need for giant amounts of food that people feel compelled to buy.  And to eat.  When I went to the supermarket yesterday I could see that people had their supermarket trolleys loaded for impending doom followed by the prospect of pestilence and starvation.  

Me included.  There are a couple of things I buy excess off at Christmas and they are raspberries and strawberries.  I am not sure why because, when I really think about it, I don't like them all that much.  I think I like the look of them.  I do like them in a Summer Pudding but since I have never made one I cannot even use that as an excuse for spending money on them.   Actually, I don't think I really like Summer Pudding that much because it has white bread around it and that gets all soggy with the juice from the berries.  But it looks very pretty.  

Anyway, that's just babble.  Yesterday I had to go down the street and stock up on the items that one has to for Christmas.  I bought a turkey buffet thing from some boutique butcher.  They stuff it and roll it and wrap it in the stretchy net thing to hold it together (I had to ring them today to ask if I had to leave it on when it was cooking).  The butcher's was packed with people buying meat, sausages, more meat and meaty meat.  Then I went past the place that sells seafood and it was packed with people buying fish, fish, prawns, oysters, fishy smelly things and then more of it.  Loads of it.  

I got home and wedged everything in the fridge which is currently sitting out on the back verandah while the kitchen is being renovated.   I thought I had too much food but figure it is better to have a bit much than not enough.  

My sister in law rang me and asked what I wanted her to bring.  I told her nothing and then reiterated that I meant nothing.  No chips to nibble, no pretzels, no nuts, no chocolate.  Don't bring anything because it is not needed.  All that snacking and nibbling before dinner is just enough to make a person vomit.  How much food can one put in their stomach on one given day?

This morning I was meant to do an exercise class to make up for the one I reneged on on Thursday night. I woke up early with a vague headache and decided that doing a fitness test at 7.45 am was not a good way to start the day when I had to cook in the afternoon.  So I got out of bed and started to cook the rice for the Danish Ris a la mande.  The stove is outside and the photo is of me in my pi's stirring the pot.   

I have a problem with rice.  I can never get my head around the whole expansion thing.   So I put the whole bag of rice in the pot and added three litres of milk and stirred away.  It took about half an hour or so to make and when it was done I put it in the fridge to cool down.  I would be adding cream and almond meal to it later in the afternoon.

Well, you know what happens to rice when left in just a bit of liquid.  It does that absorption thing.  When I took the pot out of the fridge later this afternoon it had become this solid block of rice.  I added some cream to it and broke the handle of the wooden spoon while stirring it.  Then K took over and the same thing happened.

The only way to mix it properly with the cream was to use my hands.  So I washed them and then sunk them into the now sticky mess.  But K had to add more cream.  Then more.  Then milk.  We then tipped the expanding gloop into a huge mixing bowl I have and I continued to mix it.  It took almost a litre of milk and the same of cream to get the rice back to a nice creamy state.  It was quite funny.

But you know, it was really nice digging my hands in the creamy rice.

Outside the weather was stinking hot and I had to do the cooking out on the back verandah.  Sweaty and hot.  I had the turkey thing and some roast eye fillet.  Loads of potatoes and pumpkin.  Did the token vegetable thing just for colour.  I had thought about doing a salad but figured it was a waste since I am the only one who eats it.

So, I stood out there and did the dinner, made gravy and the sauce for the dessert.   Twice the tea towels nearly caught on fire.  When I took the turkey thing out of the oven and had a taste I realised that they had stuffed it with some sausage kind of stuffing which really made me dry retch.  But everyone else liked it. Apparently that is the traditional thing for stuffing turkey.

We decided to eat inside which meant sitting on the couch and arm chairs because I don't have a table inside anymore.  It was far too hot outside.   It was like having a picnic without the bugs and flies.

After my brother and his family left (which seemed to take for ever) K and I cleaned up.  You know, I have to say that washing dishes in a laundry trough is about as close to roughing it as I want to get.

I sent my brother home with all the left over Ris a la mande because he just loves it.  I do too but one small bowl is enough for me.  It's so rich.  Besides, I saw how it was mixed..........

Now it is 11.00 pm at night. S is at his computer playing a new game.  K has gone to bed with a case of "belly fullitis" and I am just happily sitting down at my computer doing my blog and pfaffing around on Facebook.

In the afternoon I went next door to see my neighbour whose husband had died three months ago.  I was there for an hour chatting away.  Well, she did a lot of chatting and talked about what had transpired since her husband died.   Honestly, he was a man on a mission for an early demise.  First heart attack at 42.  Smoked even though he had all of the health problems that would get worse with smoking.  Type 2 diabetes, high cholesterol, a stent in his heart.  You know the sort.

He had the worst cough for 18 months prior to being diagnosed with lung cancer and refused to mention it to his doctor.  When it finally got diagnosed he went off his tree at his wife because she wanted him to tell the doctor he was still smoking.  He said he couldn't because he had told his doctor for the past six years that he had not smoked at all.

So his wife is made from good Yugoslavian stock and grief is a process that makes one stronger.  Her children have found it harder to deal with.  She is of the generation that has seen friends and family die and those left over talk about it with the knowledge and understanding that goes with it all.  They always go into fantastic detail of the discovery of each illness and the subsequent consequences of it.

As I left she gave me a lovely hamper of food and later on brought over a little box of her home made Christmas biscuits.  Last time I had those her husband had brought them over and I ate them all day long.  I was glad that she still baked them this year and had managed to continue that tradition.

I think I must go to bed now.  Tomorrow we have a couple of Christmas visits to do and then home.  I can tell you I will be going for a long walk because I feel like a roly poly pudding.  I shall have to ration the neighbours biscuits.  They are very nice.

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and even if you don't celebrate Christmas I hope you have a Merry Non Christmas which is almost the same but completely different.

You know what I mean.

Keep safe and peaceful amongst it all.

Ciao
LC

Slack Rambling Post

SLACK!

That's me today.

Not really slack.  Just slipping into the Christmas mood and relaxing a bit.

I am at work and doing a blog.  It's been a while since I did that - I think.

I have the concentration span of a pea today.  Yesterday I used up all my care factor and now it has disappeared.  I think it is because I am waiting for a big cheque to clear in the bank at work which then allows me to pay the things that need paying before Christmas.

Or I am just slack.

Have fiddled with FB.  My son is at home and put a post on his wall that said;

Alright.


Inbox me a question and I will answer honestly.


Doing it for the entire day because I'm bored.

So I sent him a question which was "is it better to be an anarchist or a minarchist? Which works best in a modern society?"  I know that is really two questions but it is kind of one question broken into two sentences.  I think I could have worded it into one question.

He replied with "Minarchist.  You don't get into as much trouble, and it's much less dangerous than being an anarchist".

Does that mean he is a consequences kind of person?  

He is pretty funny these days.  On Monday he picked up his report in school and brought it home.  Although his behaviour is excellent in class I am afraid he did not do as well as I know he could have.  The usual "could try harder" line came up.

My husband and I discussed it and he and I have different views on it all.  

My parenting style is fairly free and, rightly or wrongly, I think S will find his niche when he is ready.  He is only 14.5 years old and it is easy to forget that because he looks and sounds much older.  

K is concerned that S is a lazy sloth and does not engage enough with school activities, has to be hounded to have a shower, yelled at to get out of bed, bullied into doing any homework, reminded all the time to practice his clarinet and is addicted to the computer and Xbox.  He is concerned that when he gets out in the working world he will not do well.

I think differently and wonder if I am deluded in my thinking.  In my mind S is a normal teenager and is not hard wired yet which means his brain is so different to that of a dull adult.  He is obsessive about things when they appeal,  he does whatever I ask him (hang out washing, empty dishwasher,  make his bed, pick up his washing) and he talks to both K and I so openly about anything. He  He has good emotional mindset and is very good at expressing his feelings if he feels the need.  I think the way his mind works will ensure he will navigate his way through life pretty well.

I guess the next few years will show if our parenting was okay or not.

When you have a child you realise that whatever ideas you had about parenting are very quickly dispelled.  Although for me, it may have been a bit different.   From the age of five until I left home at 19 I had to look after kids. My brother, my sister, my nieces, my nephew.   From nappy changing to feeding and beyond, I spent years with a child to look after and I often wonder if that gave me different outlook on being a parent as opposed to someone who had some sort of nurturing idealistic view of motherhood.  I did not resent it at all, I just had a very realistic idea of the impact that children have on a  persons life.

Hence the reason I have only one child....

Anyway, there is a point in time where a parent sees themselves in their own child.  My son is very similar to me.  In fact, sometimes I feel very sorry for my husband having both S and I to contend with. That is not to say that there is anything wrong with either S or myself, but there is a particular personality at work that can be irritating.  My son refers to it as the "M------N" gene at work (using my maiden name).  It makes me wonder if it is in the genes or is it a direct influence from me?

The other thing you realise is that a child comes to an age where you cannot just force them to do things they don't want to.  I can't say to my son "I want you to do better at school next year" and expect him to just do better for me. He has to have the "want" within himself.   I have to hope that whatever groundwork has been put down over the past is going to work.

Oh, gosh, I just bored myself.  Time to stop.

What's this post all about?

Work avoidance?  Yes, that is it.

Seriously, it is all about the meaning of life.

And with that in mind I sent my son another question to answer.

"What is the meaning of life?"

His response?

"Ponies"

Ha ha ha.

That's my little Brony.

Ciao
LC

The Woman In Orange

Recently I bought myself a morph suit.  

You may ask yourself why and I probably won't be able to explain it exactly except to say that I have wanted for ever since I first saw one a few years ago.  

It arrived in the mail a couple of weeks ago and of course I put it on with GREAT amusement.  I even posted a photo of myself on FB wearing it.  It drew a lot of comments, all very funny ones. 

I don't think amusement is a good enough word but it is the best I can come up with.

When I first bought it I asked if K and S would wear one each if I bought them one.  In different colours of course.  Maybe a blue and a green.  It would be very funny to just sit around the house in morph suits and have cups of tea.

Needless to say, they both answered with a resounding and non negotiable "NO".

At work they thought it was kinky.  I had to explain that a lycra, full bodied, bright orange morph suit is not kinky.  It is not even sexy.  It is FUNNY guys.  Do they not know the difference between kinky and FUNNY?  

They also thought I was weird.  

Anyway, I put it on and it made me laugh a great deal.

It made my husband laugh even more.

Even my son laughed.

Which was good.

Laughing is good.

But, what was kind of strange is they both thought my actions of buying the morph suit, wearing the morph suit and having a photo taking next to the pantry in the morph suit was completely normal behaviour for me. 

Hmmmm, is that a good thing?

Ciao

LC

Sunday 18th December

The Christmas tree went up this week.  Two weeks later than usual and in a different part of the house, but it is up and that is what counts.  The place is still unfinished but the tree still looks nice and twinkly.

For the first time ever, S did not have to step up onto a stool to put the star on top of the tree.  Even I have to step on a stool but he is now over two inches taller than me and closer to the top.  Besides, it's always going to be his job to put the finishing touch on the tree.

As we were decorating it S would pick up a decoration and say "I remember this".  It was a different feel for him.  He used the word "nostalgic" in his description.  If he starts using that word to describe his feelings now (at age 14) I cannot imagine how nostalgic he will feel at my age.

Christmas is only a week away and I don't feel particularly rushed this year.  In fact, I feel scarily kind of calm.  On Friday I left work early to go the the shops for some Christmas shopping.  I have a love/hate relationship with the shops at Christmas.  When I walk into the store I feel all excited looking at all the Christmassy things.  Then, after an hour or so, I start to feel overloaded after looking at all the Christmas Crap.

The shopping centre is so huge that is takes me for ever to get to one end and then the same amount of time to get back to where I started.  And it seems that I always have to get something at one or both of those ends.

During the course of the shopping journey I had to go to the toy section of one of the stores.  Oh, what a mindless pile of SHIT resides on the shelves of all toy sections.  Apart from Lego, it would be reasonable to say that most toys will spend their lives in a cupboard.  I cannot even say they will have short lives because when they have outlived their appeal they will end up in landfill for the next 1000 years.  I am so glad that my son has long passed those toy hungry years and is now just a PC and Xbox loving geek.

Anyway, I meandered around looking at the shelves before drifting out of the place and finding myself in another shop that sells games, computers, DVDs, music and the like.  I picked up a few games for my son and then bought him the uncut version of the SciFi movie Blade Runner.  One of my all time favourites.

But I have to confess that I did not really buy it for him, I bought it for me but will give it to him because I believe it is important for him to see this exciting movie in a semi educational sense.  It's a classic!  All history is important, even SciFi movie history.

After I sorted his stuff home, the lure of the shopping centre had completely died and I left.  So I still have to get a few things next week.  Which is kind of off putting because next week is going to be so busy I will be kicking myself I did not make the effort to endure the place on Friday and finish everything off that I needed to.

I have also been doing a bit of online shopping and have come to the conclusion that it is a bit tempting.  The pleasure at having a few parcels arrive every couple of days makes it easy to do it again.

On Saturday I had a fund raising breakfast with the exercise group and cooked bacon and eggs.  I hate cooking outdoors on a hot day even if it is early in the morning.  By the time I got home I had a headache and no energy.  I slouched around on the couch and now and then got up to either eat or put on a load of washing.  Then, when I felt really energetic I hung the washing out.  It was terribly unexciting.

Finally, I felt so disgusted with my lazy self I went for a 5km walk in late afternoon heat.  Nothing like exercise to clear ones head.  At least I felt like I had earnt the right to laze around and watch television.

This morning, however, I made up for any laziness and caught up with the girls from the Oxfam team and we did some training.  We drove to the hills and walked up the Kokoda steps (about 800 of them) and down again.  Then up a very steep hill and down again.  All up I think we spent two hours burning our butts and legs with the effort.   It made up for any slackness from the day before.

Since then I have been watching some television and am now in the studio tinkering.  Outside the wind is so noisy.  I love that sound.  It is so soothing.

I am also working on a painting I started last week and changing it to suit.

It is such a nice place in this pod.

The whole world is out the door and I am in here in my own space.

It's nice.

Ciao
LC

11th December, 2011

Last night it rained so heavily that it woke me up.  Loud thunder claps rattled the windows.  I drifted in and out of sleep before waking up feeling alert at around 5.30 am in the morning.

I lay in bed with all sorts of notions about getting up and starting the day early.  I could go for a 10km walk.  Get up and do the laundry.  Do something in the studio.  Just start the day early.  But I resisted the urge because I know that doing that would result in me laying around all afternoon dog tired.

So I closed my eyes and lay in that half sleep, half awake stage until I fell into a deep sleep at around 7.30 am and woke up at 10.00 am.

Right now I am in the studio and outside it is fresh and the wind is constant.  If I close my eyes it sounds like the beach.  It is so silent out here, in the studio behind the garage.  The room is so well insulated that outside noises are muted and surreal.  I have blinds now that block out a lot of light and during the time I am not in here I pull them down to protect what is in here.  K put up shade cloth over the skylight to keep the harsh summer sun from pouring onto the bench top.  At the end of daylight savings it will come off.

The weeping Dutch Elm outside the window is like a green hulking shape.  It seems to have doubled in size with all the rain we have had and underneath the canopy is like a little sanctuary.  Some of the drooping branches hang down onto the clothesline and steel hanging space but I don't really want to cut them yet.  They look so lush and free.  I feel that by cutting it I am cutting off its arms or something.

I am just pottering around in here.  Hanging up some pictures I have.  I put up a shadow box on the wall to display my favourite little pointless things.  But one shadow box is not enough and I will have to buy two more.  It does not get dusty in here, not like in the house so I don't mind putting bits and pieces up.

Yesterday K raised the bench top to waist height because it is easier to work and I can store some things underneath if I need to and somehow I think that it won't be long before I do that.

Where is S?  He is on his computer talking to friends whilst playing some online games.  The other day K asked him why he never had friends over these days and S said that he talks online to his friends all the time and that most of them never leave the house.  He says he sees his friends at school all day and does not want to see them all weekend as well.  He wants his own space and wants to be able to be alone when he feels like it.   Although, yesterday he went to the movies with one of his friends.  S organised it all, got me to get the tickets online and his friend's father picked took both of them to and from the movies.

I know that a lot of people just hate that relationships are conducted in that weird online way but I actually don't have a problem with it.  The online world connects a lot of people who might not fit into mainstream, predictable society.   I guess, like most things, it just has to be managed properly.  I would have loved computers to have been around when I was a kid.

K is out in the garage working on one of his cars.  He recently had one repainted and is now putting the windows back in.  I know it has been a fiddly job but one is going to give one of those satisfying results at the end of a long learning curve.

I am just starting a painting so that is going to take up some lovely time for a few hours.

It's a nice Sunday.

Ciao
LC

What?

Today I had the following conversation with my husband.

K: I spoke to my sister today and she was telling me why your farts smell so bad.

Me: Are you serious? (really thinking WTF!)

K: Yes, apparently it is a bacteria that makes the farts actually smell really bad and it is aggravated by stress.

Me: Obviously I have been under stress for all of my almost 48 years.

K: Well, you can take antibiotics for it.

Me: No, I think you can just smell my farts to gauge what mood I am in or what stress I am under.  Besides, I rather enjoy the impact my stinky farts have on everyone else.

K: Yes, of course.

Me: By the way, why on earth are you discussing the smell of my farts with your sister?

K: I wasn't, she rang me to specifically tell me that.

L: Are you serious?  (again thinking WTF! and also thinking that at some time my farts have been discussed between K and his sister which also makes me think WTF!).

Later on I went to put something in the fridge and noticed a box of antibiotics.  As K had been on antibiotics for something (not stinky farts) I asked if he was still on them.  He replied that they were for me from his sister in case I needed them for my farts.

I am not sure what my reply was.  Perhaps something along the lines of "are you for real".  I may have thrown in the F word.

And that is not "F" for fart.

Ciao
LC

4th December, 2011

A long and busy week it has been for me and now it is Sunday and I am in my favourite position - sitting down with the delicious Mac on my Lap.  Wouldn't that make a good song?  Put the Mac on my lap and I'll give a little clap.  You could look at that differently if the Mac were a person.

Anyhow, this week was a jam packed one with work and exercise obligations.  Yesterday I helped out at a stall at the Swedish Christmas Bazaar and did not get home until almost 6pm.  It was so busy that I had to park my car about 1.5 km's away for the bazaar.  Once again I wondered at the ways in which people are prepared to spend money on all sorts of tat.  Honestly, I am sure most of it qualifies for landfill. 

I had a relatively early night because I was up this morning at 6.00 am to do the first training walk for the Oxfam charity thing.  It was just a 20km thing and it was a doddle.  We had a new team member because one (the man one) had to drop out due to family commitments.  So four women over the age of forty doing it this time.  I named the team Walking Working Wonderwomen.  I think I may hyphenate the last word.  It looks wrong.  Or maybe just have two words.  

Our 20km walk took 3.5 hours and we did stop for a coffee at the half way mark and the finish.  I was a bit tired when I got home and did not get as much done as I had planned to.  My legs were fine but I am looking forward to going to bed tonight.  

The kitchen joinery went in last Saturday and things are looking different.  Stone benches will hopefully be in by Christmas.  Painters coming on the 12th December and the floor will be polished after Christmas as we have to be out of the house for a couple of days while it is being done. 

I am very happy with the new kitchen.  Actually that is an understatement, I love it.  It's just so slick and everything does what everything should do and it will just look great when it is finished. 

I have gone off blogging a bit these days.  I am doing different things and life is busy.  Plus I have a blogging block and just don't have the interest I used to.  It's a sad thing in a way because it has always given me a great deal of pleasure to just blog random things.  Part of me thinks I just post the "same shit, different day" kind of thing and wonder why?  Does that mean my life is boring?  Or am I just happy doing pretty much the same thing in my life.  Maybe I could write about something else.  Maybe my blogging days are drawing to a close and I am ready to move onto a new creative activity.

Another part of me thinks that there is something about therapy that has sucked the creativity out of me.  Or redirected it.  Or put it on hold.  Therapy is great in many respects but it does streamline my thoughts in a way I am not all together happy with sometimes. They need to be rearranged to my liking again.  I wonder if there is some sort of process I have to go through to get back the urge to write on a regular basis.  You know, talk about my shit until I die of boredom and then write about it.

Then there was that upheaval around the house this year which been a bit of a demotivating thing.  And I have had a drawn out depressed episode which is not particularly exciting.  Maybe I have just lost my writing mojo.  Maybe when I get a break over Christmas I will recharge the brain batteries and that will help.  I know that I am just waiting for a free day to start a new painting for the kitchen.  A decorative painting to add colour to the modernity of the kitchen.

I am still going to therapy.  Once a fortnight.  It is a positive process mostly.  I am actually going into the session with specific issues I want to tackle.  Issues that I had not put to rest properly.  They had been buried and we all know that if you bury something alive it will come back to haunt you.  Although, I am not sure how much therapy one can do before getting sick of talking about oneself.  Honestly, it must be mind numbingly boring for a therapist to listen to people's crap. I did say that to my therapist and he replied with a very suitable answer which implied he did not get bored at all which was very nice of him.

I have this thought about therapy and it reminds me of a service that you can have in some countries where you pay for a friend.  It's true.  You pay $50 an hour to have a person pretend to be your friend for an hour.  No, it is not prostitution - although they are not friends but they charge a lot more than $50 per hour.  Actually, I think they charge the same as a therapist so you could weigh up which one offers the most benefits or value for money.   I should not think like that about therapy because I know that it serves a very important service to people (me being one of those people) and I would not wish to devalue the value of my therapist.

Now it is close to Christmas and the year is going to tick over to another.  That is one constant in life.  Time moving on no matter where anyone is at.  I have not thought much about sending out Christmas cards and thought it might be a nice thing to send out New Year cards instead.  By the time I get around to doing a Christmas card it will be New Year anyway.  For the first time ever the Christmas tree has not yet been put up.  The house is still a bit chaotic.  It may be another two weeks before it goes up and that is okay as long as it goes up for Christmas.

Don't even ask about Christmas shopping.

To tell you the truth, I just want to see the back of this year and get on with a new one.

I am going to finish this post with a conversation that my son and I have had.  Although,  perhaps it would be exaggerating to call it a conversation.

Me (walking into office where son is sitting at computer): "Oh my God, you stink.  Go and have a shower".

Son (without looking at me):  "So don't come in the office if I smell".

Me: "What, you want me to restrict access to rooms in my own home because my son stink?"

Son: "Yep".

Son has shower next day.  Variation of conversation takes place over and over on different days.  Son only showers when directed too.  I have been told this is a normal thing and I have to confess that I also was a stinky teenager until about the age of fourteen when I got a part time job and being clean was a necessary evil.  If it were not for the fact that being smelly was socially unacceptable I think I would kind of enjoy not having to have a shower every day.  I am also of the belief that the real reason people go camping is so that they can avoid having to wash because that is the ONLY reason that I would want to go camping.    

It is great having a teenager in the house.  They are interesting creatures full of incredible ideas that are so far removed from the brain space of an adult that is is hard to imagine that most adults were teenagers.  Oh, actually, thinking about some adults I have met I might take back that thought.  I might word it differently.   Teenagers are full of wildly imaginative and random thoughts and not many carry the energy of those thoughts into adulthood.

I have spent over an hour trying to finish this post off without falling off the blog perch with boredom.

But here I am, at the end and thinking I might sign off and go to bed.

Nothing like a blog post to send one to sleep.

Ciao
LC