Sunday 29th January Post

Having had four sunny days off you may think I did a load of wonderful things.   

But you know, I just schlepped it.  

On Thursday I did got for a walk from home to the beach.  Not a very long one.  About an hour.  It was stinking hot and even though it was around 4.30 I actually got a bit pink from the sun on a place I neglected to apply some sunscreen.   I had intended to walk back home but I thought it would be nice for K and S to come down and have something to eat.  

I took a few photos while waiting for them. 

 I love t-trees.  They are so gnarly and parched looking.  They even look like this in winter.

By the time K and S arrived the coffee shop had shut so we had to go and find somewhere else to eat.  We ended up at a trendy hamburger shop.  They don't make greasy burgers.  They make healthy ones.  And they cater for vegans.  They taste home made which is nice for a change. 

The thing is,  it was kind of weird sitting having a take away dinner when, the day beforehand, my uber Ilve stove had been installed in the kitchen.  However, I could not cook on it much because the range hood has not been connected.  And the range hood has not been connected because the ducting is very complicated. 

To tell you the truth, I am a bit scared of the oven.  It has a digital clock.  And programmable things.  I got K to light the oven because I was anxious.  I can light old ovens but not new ones.  Well, you know what I mean.  I did not want to make a mistake.  This was a mans job.  This new one has to have the door fully open to light the gas.  Then you have to leave it open for three minutes before shutting it.  Weird.  But I don't care.  It looks nice.

There is a rotisserie thingy in it.  There is no way I would use it because it means I would have to clean the oven.  Fuck that.  Oh, well, I will clean it when it needs a clean but I would not cook some fat splattering dinner in it.  That would be testing my care factor a bit much.  

So K lights the oven and I had to leave it on for an hour to burn the factory residue off the insides.  Tonight I am going to bake a cake or something.  It will be very different because it is fan forced and a fast oven compared to the 1960's one I have been using for a while. 

On the Friday I had to go and get my son's school books and he came with.  It was another stinking hot day outside and the place that sold the books was hot inside.  It was crowded and it was understaffed.  We got the books and then joined the queue,  After half an hour I rang K and asked him to come and pick up S because the queue was moving and a snails pace.  So he was picked up and I was left waiting.  It took over an hour to get to the register and get served.

The place had a portable evaporative cooler on and they did their best to make the wait less unpleasant for everyone.  There was water available and I made the mistake of drinking some and subsequently need to go to the toilet for ages.  A toilet trip was not an option.  I was not giving up that space.   By the time I got home I was hot, sweaty, dying to pee and had frizzy hair.  But at least I had the books.

After that K and I went to hire a fancy dress costume and drove to some inner city suburb that seemed to take forever to get to.  We are going to a 40th next Saturday and the theme is 1920's.  I hired the most fabulous costume and cannot wait to wear it.  I think it has been over ten years since I went to a fancy dress party.

My son has a new pet.  A blue tongue lizard.  It belonged to my sister in law (K's sister) but she found it hard to look after because she has not been that well.  He has it in his bedroom is a tank.  He loves it.  Introduced it to his toys.

It is very tame.  Does not do much.  Eats.  Sleeps and sticks it tongue out now and then.  But S is very keen on it and plays with it during the day.  I love lizards and snakes.  But a snake is out of the question.  K hates them as much as I hate spiders.

Today I woke up in one of those snitchy moods.  I was anxious (boo hoo) and just agitated.  Went off to the shops to buy a birthday present and got there before the heat of the day was too much.  All went well. Made a good choice and got home around lunch time.  Missed the crowds and the heat.

Later on I went into the studio and cleaned up.  I wanted to start on something but noticed that the paper I wanted to use had been wet and was now mouldy.  I think it happened last year when a lot of supplies in the old studio got wet during the flood.  So I decided to go to the local art shop and buy some more.  I had a gift voucher from my birthday.  K came with as he had cabin fever.  He loathes the hot weather and feels trapped when we have a few days of it.

So, we get to the store and the woman comes out the door and starts to take some display stuff in.  She looked most put out that we were coming in.  I asked her if she was open much longer and she said that they were open for another 25 minutes and that the sale that they had on would end then.  I said "oooookay" in that voice that suggests "gee, sorry for putting you out" because she spoke in a "what are you doing here I want to shut the door early" voice.  Not welcoming at all.

I picked a few things and went to the counter.  The girl there added it up and took of the sale discount.  There was a saving of $40.  When I handed her the voucher she said that the discount did not apply to vouchers.  I asked why not and the door bitch explained something about the money has already been allowed for and some other fucking stupid thing.  Mentioned that she had been through this so many times.  Well, not with me lovey is what I wanted to say.  Cow.  Instead I gave her one of my inscrutable looks that suggests I am saying one thing but thinking another.  I know the looks because my son gives them to me often.  It is one of those nice family traits we share.

I mean, a voucher is cash in my mind and why should I be penalised for wanting to use it during a sale.  I did not want to discuss it because I knew that my "patience 'o' metre" was very low and I would have been unbearably rude and I don't want that.  So I said "I see".

She then said I could use cash instead and save the voucher for another time.  Now, at that point my childish tantrum throwing self started to come out and I said that I would rather use the voucher thank you.  So the price went up again and I was left with a balance of $17.50 on the voucher.

As she handed me my bag of items I deliberately looked over her head at something out the window and did not say thank you.  Just took the bag, kept a conversation going with K and walked out the door.

Then I did this most childish thing.  I am a bit embarrassed to confess it but it was the most satisfying tantrum.  I took the voucher out and, within their view, casually tore it up and flicked it in the rubbish bin outside. It was a case of cutting off my nose to spite my face but it was worth the sacrifice of $17.50.

As I did it I remarked to K something like "well, I am not coming back here so why keep it".  Or words to that effect.

There was no logic to my actions but there was a great deal of puerile enjoyment.

There may have been a principle thing going in my head.  I don't know.  But it cost me money which is most unlike me.

Anyway, I had actually found a better art shop to go to.  Plus buying online is so much cheaper.

Damn, I wish I had told them that.

It's always afterwards you think of everything you could have said.

Then again, it is usually better to have said not much at all.

I still have a bag of nice things to play with though.  

And a great excuse to go online now to buy.

Ciao
LC

King Island

Sometimes, just for fun, I like reading about "dates from Hell".  For no reason other than to amuse myself.  I have not had many dates from Hell.  I think that there are good ones and not so good ones.  One of the girls in our Oxfam team is my age and on the dating scene and we do get a few stories which are pretty funny.  But not mean, just funny.

There is not doubt that the world of meeting another person has changed hugely.  Internet dating has become the norm.  Having several long term relationships is more common.   There's "friends with benefits" kind of relationships.  You know, having sex with someone who is okay for friendship until a better kind of someone comes along.   Casual hook ups.  Long term marriages end and middle aged people are thrown into the world of dating.  I imagine that to be a scary thing.

At least it is more common now to be divorced or single.  Years ago women in particular were coined as spinsters or somehow pitied because they had not got themselves a man to marry.  As though life meant nothing unless one had a man.

You know, I don't expect my son to marry.  Or not to marry.  I presume he will have a girlfriend one day but I never presume he will marry.  I never think I will be a grandparent.  It's not in my head.  Not even as a "one day" kind of thing.  If I had a daughter I would think the same.  I neither encourage nor discourage marriage.  There are no expectations in regards to that.  All I would like is for my son to navigate his way through life the best way possible.   Should he meet a person he thinks enough of to marry then that is good.  But it is not the be all and end all.

One thing is for sure, whoever he meets will have had a few relationships beforehand.  When I was growing up you thought your parents had no life prior to having children.  Your mother definitely had no boyfriends before she met your mother.  Or never talked about it.

My son knows that I went out with few guys before I met K.  A private school pratt was one.  Followed by a misogynist wanker.  There were a few non sexual prospects out there.  They would have liked sex but I did not fancy them at all.  The odd totally forgotten ones.

Anyway,  just before I met my future husband, I was asked out by a guy who had come into my parents business and spoken to me about something.  A few days later he rang back and asked me out.  I could not recall at all what he looked like and hesitated before he pestered me enough to say yes.

That weekend he turned up to pick me up.  I was 21 and I think he was about 45.  Not a healthy and fit 45 either.  Especially in the eyes of a peachy 21 year old.  He wore a cravat and had a black leather jacket on.  Blue jeans tucked into brown leather boots.  Pretty much bald.  To tell you the truth, in my then very young eyes he looked like an old fart.  To me these days he would look like the average middle aged man.

So we went out.  Somewhere forgettable.

He was a classic Baby Boomer.  Grew up in the glorious 1950's.  Travelled overseas for years living the life of dope smoking, guitar playing, flares wearing and sexually free time that it was.  He did two stints in Vietnam and then lived the life of a hippy.

Then, like everyone, he got old and decided to buy a place and settle down.  The thing was, although his outer shell was that of an old bloke, his inner shell was still that of a young man.  And that is fine because in myself I still retain my younger self.  It's me.  But I am realistic about my older self.  Were I to find myself in a position where I was going have to date again you can bet I would not be putting myself forward to men who were 21.  Whereas this guy whose head was still full of a vigour of his youth only wanted to go out with females my age because older women were, well, too old.

So, this man (I'll call him Rod)  and I go out now and then and no long after I meet K so there is no way that the relationship is going to go any further with Rod.  Two reasons.  I don't fancy him and he is too old for me.  But he does not see that he is too old for me as he feels so young and full of life.  

During out hanging out together (not to be mistaken with FWB's) we decide to make a trip to King Island.  Well, I decided to go and he just invited himself along and I was too polite to tell him to fuck off.

Four days were booked and off we went.  We stayed in a place with separated bed rooms which completely gutted him.  He was thinking that we were going to have a shag fest.  Hope springs eternal I suppose.  No matter I made it very clear before leaving.

After two nights he was so unpleasant to me and full of anger that I was forced to book a flight back early.  He did the same.  The trouble is that only one place goes to and from that place and we were the only two humans on board.  The rest of the place was chock full of live crayfish stuffed into sacks.  We sat in semi silence as the plane flew back over the Bass Strait,  the humming of the engine and the ticking sound of the crayfish the only noise.

When we got back to the airport my brother picked me up and I did not speak to Rod for ages.  Then one day he rang up to apologise and invited K and I over to his place for a BBQ.

He finally did meet an incredibly beautiful Turkish girl called Tina (I think that was her name).  She was 28 years old and so deliciously lovely but I did think their match a bit strange.  Her English was okay but they were so different.  They got engaged.  We went to a celebration of their engagement at his house.

Previous to this get together her mother had held a big family celebration for the engagement and there were lots of people and family.  Food and music.  All captured on video.  So Rod puts on the video for us to watch.

As we are watching a person comes into the view of the movie.  It's an older man, grey hair and a bit overweight.  My husband to be leant forward to get a closer look and asked - quite innocently - "Who is that old guy? Is that Tina's father?"

There was a rather horrible silence before someone said "No, it's Rod".

We then made some polite excuses and headed home.  It was as though someone uttered an hideous truth.

The engagement ended not long after.  Something about the age difference.

He rang me up about ten years ago to say hello.

I though of him recently when I saw some promotional thing about King Island.  That is a place I cannot think about without connecting it with him.

It's a very beautiful place to visit.  Small, interesting and different.

But not very romantic.

Ha ha.

Ciao
LC

Thursday Holiday

It is Thursday and I am not at work.

It is a public holiday.  Australia Day.  There will be lots of flag waiving down at local parks and beaches but I won't be one of them.

I also have tomorrow off.  Australia is known as the land of the long weekends due to the numerous public holidays we have that often fall just prior to the weekend.  Many people will be taking Friday off.  I would have gone into work but Bossman is a great believer in all staff having time off to spend with friends and family.

This morning I was meant to get up early and do a bootcamp exercise class with my husband down along the beach.  I woke up and decided not too.  Well, it was not as easy as that.  I lay in bed and thought about how much I hate doing hard exercise in the morning because it sucks the life out of me for the rest of the day.

I am not talking about going for a walk like I did last Sunday.  That is fine.  It is the "running along sand holding a big car tyre over your head" kind of exercise I hate.   It also tends to go with "running up lots of steps and then down those same steps and then run along the sand and then do loads of push ups and then mountain climbers and how about some squats" activities as well.  Then I get home dog tired and spend all afternoon resisting the urge to have a sleep only to fall asleep in the chair in front of the television later on.

So, once I got over the incredible guilt of not doing the class I went back to sleep until 9.00 am in the morning and now, at almost 3pm, I am not tired at all.  But I will be heading off for a 15km walk soon.  There is no way I could not do something.  No exercise means highly agitated Linda at Large.

This week has been a busy week in my house with the kitchen benches installed and also with the arrival of the stove.  Life is getting back to normal.  Not that I can complain that it has been difficult.  It has just been intrusive.

In fact, recently I have had an aversion to doing any serious complaining at all.  A while ago I made some whiney remark about something trivial and my son said "Oh, a First World Whinge" or something like that.  I felt a bit embarrassed, despite the fact that he meant it as a joke.  It reminds me of the first few times that I went to therapy and the therapist said something along the lines of not minimising my own problems.

He asked me if I felt that a soldier who fought in a war and came home with injuries was more entitled to complain that I would about my own internal naval gazing problems.  By the way, he did not say naval gazing problems but I am adding that because that is how I see my own shit.  And he also worded what I am relaying in a much more professional way. But I cannot recall the details because it was too professional for me remember but I have not forgotten the gist of it.

And I said that the soldier was entitled to complain more.  Maybe complain is not the right word.  Maybe I mean that he was entitled to express his difficulties more and to have these issues validated.

It is all about perspective isn't it?  I could whine about anything and everything but the reality is I have nothing really concrete to seriously vent about.  It is in my nature to just think that there are people who have such significant struggles in life that anything I may feel grievous about is petty.

Or if I vent I don't want to be seen as ungrateful.  I just want to have a bit of a whinge and that is it.

Anyway, the past few weeks have been very strange for me in a way.  For the first time in what seems like forever I have not been waking up with anxiety and having to carry it around all day.  I cannot think of a time when I have not had chronic anxiety.  Depression is crap but anxiety is just tops that for me. The physicality of it is hideous.

I have no doubt that the extra, extra exercise has contributed to this change, as has getting fairly solid sleep.  A break over Christmas was good.  Recharging batteries. Lots of hot sunshine.

Now you would think I would be happy about that wouldn't you?   Well, part of me isn't.

For me, anxiety has been a very good driver.  It had become a part of me and now it is gone and I miss it. I do.  I miss the horrible monster that it is.  I don't miss the physical aspect of it, that pressure in my chest and head and just that anxious state that is always there.  But I miss the challenge of combating it or using it do motivate me to do more things or to be a better person.  Although, I am doing more things I suppose and maybe that is why it has dissipated.

The busier I am and the more I exercise then the less anxious I feel.  So, what happens when I don't want to be busy or feel like a break from exercise?  Or the sun is not shining so hot in the sky and giving me strength?  Will it come back like a sneaky rat?

The anxiety has gone and the melancholy feeling has settled enough not to intrude on my thoughts each day.   My sleep is solid but I cannot say I feel refreshed.  I could sleep for ten hours and still roll out of bed like a zombie.  But the main thing is that, on the whole, my sleep is not being interrupted by me waking up all through the night.  That makes it easier for me to manage my physical and mental well being.

As the anxiety has taken a break,  I feel like my inner bitchiness has come out.  Now, I am not sure if I am bitchy or just assertive and that the conditioning of women is that when they are assertive they are made out to be difficult or bitchy.  

But, quite frankly, right now, I could not give a fuck.

I think I may just enjoy being anxiety free for as long as I can and if it means I may offend others,  be a bit snappy or just do whatever I want then that is okay with me.  I cannot think of the last time I feel free of anxiety of it for as long as this.

It gives me the chance to just relax.  Plus the chance to rebuild my personal confidence and work out some new goals to achieve.  When I am anxious and depressed I spend a fairly decent amount of time working at not allowing it to infect my life to the point where my work and home life are not functioning. It is all very tiring.

I'll try not to be anxious about the prospect of the anxiety coming back.

In the meantime, part of the process of keeping things calm is to go for that long walk.

So off I go.

Ciao
LC

Sunday Slog

I had another training walk today.  Last week was checkpoint 1 to checkpoint 2 of the Oxfam walk.  This week was checkpoint 2 to check point 3 and back.  A round trip of 32 km's.

Left my place at about 6.30 am on a clear and warm morning which was heading into an extremely hot day.  I checked the websites to see if any of the tracks were closed but, sadly, none were.

We went in my car because I have a GPS and none of us had a road map book.  Not that that would make a difference because none of us seem to be able to read maps very well.

The GPS kindly took us to a dead end.  It made me laugh because just as I left home I thought to myself how funny it was that people who use a GPS sometimes end up in dead ends or other stupid places.

However, we found our way to the place we needed to go which was Lysterfield Lake Park.  It is a very busy place for bike riders due to the fantastic bush tracks they can ride on.

We had kind of forgotten this as a checkpoint during the Oxfam walk last year.  But we absolutely forgot how long the walk was to the next checkpoint.  Also forgot how hilly it was.  Last year we were unable to train on many sections of the track (including this section) due to flood damage.  We were heading to Ferny Creek.

The weather was HOT.  It was at least 36 Celsius which I think translates to about 97 Fahrenheit.  Fortunately the morning was reasonably cool so we only had to contend with the misery of the hills that seemed never ended.  But that was still over three hours of it.

On the way back, however, it was fiercely hot and there were many areas of walking track that were devoid of shade.  It was extremely windy and that wind was northerly and mean.  The way back was also psychologically challenging because of the heat and the tracks just were so looooooong.

At one point we had all run out of energy despite eating a big lunch and plenty of lollies.  So we stopped off and bought bottles of sugary coke and that was so much better than any sports drink.  It fired us up for a good hour.  Then it was back to water and lollies.

By the time we got back to the starting point we were very tired and possibly a bit dehydrated from the heat and wind.  A sit down at the park cafe to have coffee revived us enough to get home.

Next week there is no training.  We all want a week off.

So, what did we think of it all as we walked along?  It was the single most unpleasant walk but the fact we did it was a good achievement.  There was some whining at different times.  The higher and harder the incline, the whinier we became.   Just prior to the half way mark I was hungry and needed a toilet trip and my whinging faded into silent grumpiness.  Once I attended to those two needs I was fine.

Despite frequent applications of sun screen we all got burnt.  It was windburn which is hard to avoid.  By the time we got back to the car we were soaked to the skin with sweat and covered with dust that stuck to our sunscreen layered arms.  One of the girls had a severe reaction to some plants that brushed against her legs.  She has serious allergies and carries and EpiPen around in case she has an anaphylactic shock from something.  We all know how, when and where to use it.   She also stepped on a snake lying across a path.  It moved almost as quick as her back into the bush.  It is snake season right now so it was no surprise really.

When I got home I was so grateful for the shower.  Also for the fact that K went out at stocked the freezer with nice things.  He also did a lot of painting in the house.

Two hours later I have recovered nicely.  Just tired and pleased with what we did today.

So, that is my Sunday.

Ciao
LC

Monday Stuff

I should try to be more imaginative with my headings shouldn't I?

But I am going to blather on about stuff and the word shall feature many times over.  And it is Monday.

So, there you go.

I had a busy kind of weekend.   But not action packed or anything.  I just did things that had to be done and it filled my weekend.

On Saturday I am not sure where the day went but a lot of it was spent tidying up the back room which has been cram packed with stuff that was emptied out from the kitchen and lounge area.

When we filled the room we did not put much thought into just how long it would be out of action for and  thus kept on dumping more stuff in it.  If there is one thing that makes my life stressful is a room that does not have a pleasant feel about it.  It can be untidy but it needs to have some sort of feel about it that is pleasant.

Over the past couple of weeks, every time I looked at the state of the room I felt even depressed in that "fuck, I have to do something about it" kind of way.  You know, that feeling that is going to require great effort to fix.  Great physical effort.

Sooner or later I was going to have to tidy that room up.

Saturday was it.  I picked my way through the books, kitchenware, pfaffity pfaff stuff and "things that had meaning but no longer do but I find it hard to get rid of it" stuff.   I managed to fit all the bits and pieces in neat boxes and wedge them under the piano.  Then some items were place on top.  The end result was a room that made sense.

It took ages.  It was dull.  I also tidied my bedroom (again) and my son's bedroom (again) and the front room (again).  Having a small house requires careful placement of things.  We always seem to have one wall short.  Do you know, my studio is now as full as it can be.  If I had another room I would find a way to fill that too.  The longer you live in one house, the harder it is to fit everything it.

I am trying to be organised so that if I peg it at least my things will be in order.  My husband thinks that is a bit morbid but I don't agree.  I like to think that, if nothing else, people can say that my things were in order.  I am sure they will say more but I like to strive for order right to the last second.

Of course, my handbag will never reach that state of Nirvana.

So, Saturday was a good day in a dull sort of way.  I wanted to go to the movies in the evening but my son said he did not want to because - wait for this - his hair looked bad......  Truly, that was his reason for staying home on a Saturday night.  But, hey, who am I to criticise him.  Because the next day when I went for a training walk I skipped breakfast so that I could blow dry my hair.

Yes, Sunday was a training walk.  Up at 6.30 am.  Normally I would never wash my hair before a training walk but I did buy this deliciously lovely shampoo that makes my hair extra smooth and I wanted to use it.  Is that sad or what?  However, it was really a waste of time because the walk was so hot that my hair was in a pony tail and stuck under a sweaty cap.  I had hat hair by the time I got back home.  But I had lovely hair as I left the house early in the morning.

We did a walk that was 20km return.  Up hill on the way there, downhill on the way back.  It was a bush track and we saw kangaroo and wallabies which was very nice.  Plus lizards.  Heard some frogs.  Saw a huge spider.  No snakes but they are there no doubt.

Up hill was awful.  And never ending.  Up, up and more up.  But we just do it.  Have a whinge, stop for a drink and then keep going.  At the halfway mark we came to a big park near a dam and there was a coffee shop.  The area we were walking in is busy with mountain bike riders and bush walkers so the coffee shop does a good trade.

Then, after two coffees and two toilet stops we headed back, downhill.  Down hill is hard in its own way.  You have to watch for slipping.  It is hard on the knees and thighs.  But we all exercise on a regular basis so it was okay.

We were home by 1.00pm.  I pretty much wrote the day off after that.  I was tired.  Lay on the bed reading and then slept for a couple of hours.  There is not much to do when the body wants to sleep.  Better to listen than try to fight it.

Today I am sore.  My muscles are sore.  I took extra magnesium and have started retaking some supplements I had left for a while.  I feel like they help.  The magnesium definitely makes a difference.  I need to rejig my diet a bit because my fatigue is quite a lot more than it should be.

Next Sunday we are doing a 32km return walk.  More hills and horrible ones at that.  This track is also part of the Oxfam walk but last year it had been washed out by the rain.  This year the ground is quite dry.

I am a bit anal about walking in the bush on hot days.  Bush fires freak me out.  Next Sunday is going to be 30 celcius so we will have to read up on the Parks advice on whether or not to walk the track.

We have not done much about fund raising but that is because we only have to raise $1000 this year instead of the almighty $5000 that we committed to last year.  I have a lot of friends who are waiting for me to send the details and they will donate.  We just do not feel the pressure to fund raise like we did last year.  This time we are focussing totally on the training and the fitness aspect of it.

Now, onto a completely different story.

At work today my boss and another supervisor were discussing the drug using habits of half of the tradesmen we have working for us.  Every weekend at least half of the guys would use all sorts of recreational drugs.  A wide range.  They also drink to excess.  It is pretty scary when you think of it.

I understand that the reasons that people use drugs is as wide ranging as the reasons that people over eat or drink to excess.  There is no one defining reason either.  More like a myriad of things.

Although I like to think I am non judgemental about drug users, deep down, I probably am in some cases.  I know that I feel empathy for the situation that got them to where they are, but I do often think that hard choices can be made for many of the people.  And I do apologise for being judgemental.  It is not always nice to be that but I am just human.  It's just not black and white really is it?  Every person has their own set of circumstances.

So, back to the guys at work.  What I am intrigued by is the fact that a couple of the older guys do drugs when they go out.  Just for fun.  I must be thick but I always think that drugs are more a young persons thing and, hopefully, one would drop it as they got older and got their shit together.  I am thick aren't I?  I am naive.  Totally.  I need to grow up.

However, in light of this I sent my boss an email that had a link to kits you can buy to test employees for drugs and alcohol in their system.  What people do in their spare time is their business entirely, but when at work it is not unreasonable to ask for a person to be clean.  It is unsafe to have drug and alcohol affected people working on a building site.  Bossman thought I was being a bit over the top but I said that if guys are using power tools they need to be alert.   Our insurance cover is astronomical.

So, that is my excitement for the last few days.  I do have another story about the painter at our house but it is long and convoluted so I think I might save that for another day.

In the mean time I must let you know of a little saying I read on some else's Facebook page that is still making me laugh 24 hours later.

Your arsehole must be jealous of the shit that is coming out of your mouth. 

I don't know why, but it really resonates with me.

Must be something about working in the building industry.

Or listening to politicians.

Or celebrities.

It's just funny and I cannot wait to use it.

I will you know.

One day, out of the blue I shall say just those words.

Before someone says it to me hopefully.

Ciao
LC

Friday Prattle

After my brief little rant earlier in the day I did what needed doing at work and then headed home.

It is only fitting that I should finish off the day with an incredibly dull prattle.  Not just for your sake, but for mine as I always like to record even the most mundane of days.

At the moment we have a couple of rooms in the house being repainted.  The kitchen/family room and the laundry.  As much as I wanted to have tangerine as a colour, I have followed advice and chosen a rather neutral colour called White Duck (half strength).  In my mind it should be called "Vague Beigey Grey" because that is what it is.   It will brighten the room, blend in the the rest of the house which is green and be a good contrast for the very dark kitchen benches I am having.

Still, tangerine would have been very pretty indeed.

By the end of the month life will be back to normal and I will be able to cook inside.  Oh, wait, no.  That will not be until mid February which is when the stupid, big, overpriced oven comes from Italy.  Which, incidentally, I am in love with despite it bigness, stupidness and over pricedness.  There is a funny little story as to why I chose that particular oven.

Years ago, eons ago, I was a nanny for a wealthy family in a wealthy suburb.  They had a huge kitchen with every convenience you could imagine.  It was state of the art (would be very dated now).  But they had one thing I loved and that was an indoor BBQ grill.  I decided that one day I would have one of those, perhaps not so big, but I wanted one.  Now, almost thirty years later, I am getting a smaller version of it as part of the oven.  Unfortunately, it meant I had to get a giant range hood to suck up the fumes from the BBQ when I use it.  And I believe that my micro protein burgers will be very nice on it indeed.

Funny how one gets a fixed idea on something.

This evening we went out for dinner at a pizza restaurant.  At the table next to us was a family of four.

Parents and two children.  With them were a set of grandparents.  All very well dressed.  Neat, tidy, smooth and, I dunno, neater.  

They had been seated for a while when the waiter came up to discuss the menu and take orders for drinks.

The mother was very insistent on making sure her children were behaving as one should in a restaurant.  Manners were the order of the evening.

First she enquired the name of the waiter.  It was Giovanni.

She then made sure that her children addressed him correctly and used his name.

"Say thank you Giovanni"

"Say please Giovanni"

"No, it is "I'll have the wedges please Giovanni"".

It went on like that for a while.   Then after the waiter went away the two children were playing with their toys that they had brought along.  The girl had drawings to do and the boy had some toy zoo animals to play with.

At the same time the husband kept checking his phone and the wife took it off him.  Every time the children misbehaved she would explain politely to them how they should behave when out.

"Please sit still"

"Please leave your sister alone"

"Do not kick the leg of the table"

"Keep still"

"I told you to leave your sister alone"

It was a constant drone of instructions on how to behave. Her consistency and patience was impressive.  I know I would have just been a witch, said a rude word and thrown a bitch faced stare at the children.

However, despite all her efforts,  the results were in one ear and out the next.  In the end their food arrived and there was silence.

About half an hour later the two children started behaving like children again and the mother quietly told them to stop.  To no avail.  They maintained their naughtiness.  The mother then yelled, all polite demeanour done away with.  The grandparents yelled at them.  It was chaos for five minutes.

I just love it when other peoples children do their lolly when out and about.  It is very satisfying.

Whenever we eat out K and I like to finish off the meal with a coffee.  It annoys my son no end as he is busting to get home and reconnect the techno umbilical cord to his brain.

Tonight he said that after I have a coffee he will have one.  And then another one.  And just sit there all night having coffees just to force me to stay in the restaurant.

"But you don't like coffee," I said.

"It's not the point.  I am just going to have one to annoy you." he said.

Well, as it was, I had a coffee and he had a warm Italian donut filled with sweet custard.

So, now we are all home.

My weekend consists of a training walk on Sunday.

A house clean on Saturday.

A training walk on Saturday.

Then I might finish it off with another prattling post.

Ciao
LC

Friday 13th January, 2011

I DON"T WANT TO BE AT WORK.






ciao
LC

Saturday The Seventh Of January

I was up early this morning to do a 20 km walk as part of the Oxfam training.   I did not really feel like it as I had slept so poorly during the night and my body was so heavy with fatigue when the alarm dragged me out of my sleep at 6.30 am.  But, you know, when you commit to something you just do it no matter what.

We walked down to the beach which is about 6.5 km and then along to a nice coffee shop where we sat and have coffee and gave our muscles a rest.

The walk back was just as brisk but it was hot and I was feeling the lack of sleep creeping over me.  I was pleased to get home at 11.15 and have a cup of tea followed by a hot shower.  Right now I am thinking how nice it will be to climb into bed tonight and sleep.  However, my husband has cabin fever and wants to go to the movies and see Tintin so I might need a nana nap before we all head out.

Tomorrow we are up early for some hills and step training.  I would like to say it is easy and anyone can do it.  But it is hard.  Still, anyone can do it even if it is hard.  Hard is hard irrespective of whether you want to do it or not.

I was sent this photo because it looks just like my tattoo.  It is very atmospheric.  I wish I knew more about it.  The tree is fantastic the way it leans over the girl.  The stance of her body looks defeated but I think the angle of her head looks defiant.  I like it.  It was very thoughtful of the person who sent it to me.

Thursday was the day I finally went back to work.  So I felt I had an extra two days of holiday.  Actually, since I was originally going to go back this Monday, maybe I feel cheated out of two days holiday.  No matter, it was nice to go back to work.  This time of year is quiet and casual.  All the boys in the office came in wearing thongs (flip flops - before you freak) and then just schlepped around in bare feet.  Not me, there is no way you would see me with my feet on show like that.  Especially since doing the Oxfam walk last year and losing all my toenails.  It is not a pretty sight.

Personally, I loathe feet.  As useful as they are, I don't want to see or touch anyone's feet and I certainly would not want anyone to touch mine.  Unless it were something to do with some sort of life or death surgery.  To me, feet are the bug catchers of the world and very ugly ones at that.  Even "nice" feet are ugly.  I recall a big gossipy story about a member or the Royal family getting caught by the paparazzi getting her toes sucked by her financial advisor.  Apart from the "what were you thinking?" aspect to it, the whole germ factor just made me pull a face and still does.  Buy, hey, I am uptight.  Even my fingernails are clipped to nothing to prevent germ growth underneath them.

At work I just ploughed through paperwork and sorted my desk out.  Whenever I go back to work after that Christmas break the pressure in my body and head just automatically builds up.  It must be all the neurones firing up or something.  I am sure that is why I did not sleep well last night.  All wired up in my head and body from work.

You know, my dog died a while ago.  I have been having dog thoughts.  I miss my Angus but I also miss having a dog around.  I have decided that another dog is on the cards but not until after the Oxfam walk because I need to commit time to a puppy.  One good thing is that I can take a dog into work otherwise I don't think I would get another one.  It is not fair to leave a dog at home alone.  Especially a border collie.  They would die of boredom.

When I first had Angus I was home a lot but I also took him into where I worked.  I just turned up with him.  What could they say?  He was well trained and sat at my feet whilst I worked away.  Love me, love my dog.  Is that what they say?

I did the same when I had my son in a pram.  Work wanted me to go in so he came with.  Nobody ever said no and it worked well enough.   My son, however, was not well trained but he did sit nicely in the pram for quite a while.  He was easier than the dog at that age.

Now he smells like a dog.

So, that is my Saturday for now.

I might go in and tidy my bedroom.

Then again I might not.

Might just get onto Etsy.com and look at "stuff".

More likely I am going to tidy my bedroom and then sleep on the bed.

Ciao
LC

Happy New Year 2012

I could have posted a Happy New Year greeting yesterday but had to do the things that suddenly needed doing on New Years day.

Happy New Year to everyone.

Do you have resolution?  I don't.  It's a bit of a wank that whole resolution thing.  I have had resolutions but they are so stupid  that it is pointless.  Things like "be more organised" or "get to bed early" or "put less in handbag" and other mindless stuff.

It's hot here.  Really hot and windy.  Yesterday was hot as well.  So it does bring forth that question as to why I get the impulse to do something inconvenient outside.

I woke up yesterday morning and thought that the mezzanine floor in the garage needed to be sorted.  It has boxes of stuff stored up there and has been getting a bit crowded.  When you live in a small house (by today's comparisons) and are lacking storage it is really important to have regular culls.   Or regular double checks that what mattered three or more years ago still matters.

When I get such a notion my husband just goes with it.  Doesn't matter if it is 36 celcius outside and thus even hotter inside the garage.  It has to be done.  So down came the plastic containers of stuff for me to go through.  One at a time, lids off and contents on show.  It was a bit of a hard job.  I find the whole decision making process hard at the bets of times but on a stinking hot day with sweat dripping underneath my clothes it is even more challenging.

I kept pretty much all of the things I had previously stored of my son's items.  But a lot of things of my own were moved on.  Baskets.  I had a few of them.  I must of gone through the basket phase years ago.  They went out onto the front nature strip and were picked up by passers by.  Then I had a box of these candle holders.  They were actually in the studio.  When I bought them (ten of them) I had misread the size and instead of being little things they were HUGE.  Great big glass things that you needed great big candles to sit in the middle of.  Not cutesy little tea light candle holders.  They were hideous.  No wonder they were so cheap.  So out on the nature strip they went and were also taken away.

I found a lot of things that my mother had given me.  I use the term "given" very lightly because I now realise the process of handing over something from mother to daughter can also be "dumping ones crap over to someone else".  I recall her saying something to me about getting to a certain age and just getting sick of having so much crap in the house.  I get what she meant and I also know she won't mind that I got rid of the doily's and material paraphernalia I have had for the past 15 years and not looked at ever.  And she won't mind that today I will put the loads of coloured cellophane I somehow ended up with.  Or the craft magazines.  Or the cut outs for making things.

One thing I had was a very old and big alarm clock that had been my dad's.  It was not his as such in that it held no sentimental value to him.  It was something he had picked up over the years and it had hung around the house when I was little.  Somehow I ended up with it.  Many years ago it fell of the mantlepiece and was dented and the glass broke.  I had the glass replaced and then a leg fell off.  After that I packed it away and when I unpacked it yesterday and the hands had fallen off.  I tossed it over the the rubbish pile and the glass broke.  I might retrieve it from the rubbish and use its internals for a collage.

The job of sorting seemed to take forever and I did contemplate giving up at one point.  You know that half way mark where everything is just all over the place and it looks like it is not going to come together. But I persevered and it was all finished after a few hours (food and drink breaks extra time).  We managed to empty three or four containers of stuff.  K tucked all the "must keep" into a corner so that we knew it would not have to be moved any time soon.

Then I went into my bedroom and finished off the task I had started the day before.  Sorting clothes, tidying drawers, sifting through receipts and making the room feel nice and fresh for 2012.

Even though the day was extremely hot I made myself go for a walk in the evening.  It had been a couple of days since I had done any exercise and I feel very agitated and moody when I leave it just that long.  It just feels so much better when I exercise.  This morning I was at exercise class with the rest of the group doing weights in the hot morning sunshine.  It was hard work.  But only for the hour.  Once home and showered I was fine.  I had to drop the size of my hand weights most begrudgingly due to a chronic problem with my shoulders and neck.  Months and months ago I did a vague injury and it has plagued me since.  Over the past few weeks it had escalated to taking anti inflammatory medication and pain killers.  I think this week I shall have to see someone about it.  I had trouble using the hair dryer this morning and that calls for immediate attention.  I can put up with a lot but if I cannot dry my hair then I need to get things fixed.

It's so peaceful outside.  Not far from us is a house that has a swimming pool in the back yard.  I can hear the kids jumping in and out of the pool and laughing.  It's such a nice sound on a sunny day.  It would be fabulous down the beach on a day like today.  I would go down but K and S just loathe being outside on a hot day.  My son with his luminescent white skin hates being sweaty and K is the same.  They like the cool interior of the house.  And cool it is right now.  We have two types of cooling in the house.  The evaporative cooling that is great on very dry and hot days, and recently I had an air conditioner put in the back room which is big enough to cool the rear of the house which gets a bit hot after a few days of scorching summer days.

The studio has an air conditioner too.  It takes a few minutes to cool the room down to a delicious temperature.  I could not sit in here other wise.  The afternoon sun belts down on the studio and despite being heavily insulated it gets very hot.

So even though we are all a little housebound with this weather, at least it is cool.

I just realised that I have crapped on about the weather for a while.  

Tomorrow I am going to go to work and do just a few hours to get back into the swing of things slowly.  I don't have to go back until next week but to tell you the truth I don't like being at home too much or for too long.  I like a nice break from work,  time to potter at home, an easing back into work, a bit more pottering at home and then straight into work and then it's back to the busy, busy thing.  I get a bit moronic with too much time on my hands.  My head likes to be stuffed to the brim most of the time.  Too much "me" time makes me shitty.  Not enough makes me shitty.  It's a balance.

So that is my day.

I am sure I have more to write but there are two things making it difficult.

One is that I have not got a decent chair to sit at while I am working on the computer in the studio.  The bench was raised for me to stand at when I am working (or sit at on a stool).  Then I brought in a table to sit at with the computer.  However, I have not a decent chair to sit on and have been perching on a horrid stool which is too low.  This actually aggravates my shoulders while typing.

And that leads me to the second problem.  My aching shoulders and neck are now hurting too much to type and my arse is numb from sitting on the stupid small stool.

In fact, that is a really good reason to go to the SHOPS and get a chair to sit on.

Oh, goody goody.

Ciao
LC