Month: January 2011

If you need help

It occurred to me a few days ago that there has been so much grief and horror and shock among the interweb community these last few weeks.

Lori.

Lucy’s sister Amy. Then Lucy.

Then there’s a woman in the States – a Minister perhaps? – who has suffered a massive stroke.

Then there are the floods up North, which- for some places – had already endured flooding just a few weeks before.

Now we have flooding down South.

And so.much.human.hardship.

It has been a time of remarkable human spirit and strength. Of friends and strangers rallying to each other’s aid. Of people discovering their internal capacity for pain and for survival.

BUT…

If it is all too much for you, if you are feeling totally overwhelmed by it all, talk to someone. Call a friend. Speak to your GP. Phone a support line. But whatever you do, talk.to.someone.

In Australia:

Lifeline: 131 114

Mensline: 1300 789 978

Kids Helpline: 1800 551 800


My thoughts on Babel

1. Most annoying movie soundtrack ever.

2. Brad Pitt is still hot.

3. I never want to be in a crisis situation with a busload of American tourists.

4. I will never understand the cultural love of karaoke.

5. There’s one of those movie endings which you change in your head, thereby convincing yourself you’ve not seen all of the movie until it ends and you realiza no, you have seen it, it was just so dissatisfying the first time your brain tried to erase it.

One of this years goals. Decision time.

So I’ve decided I’m going to get a tat. Hell, my hairdresser has a gagillion of them and she is one hot mamma so now I’m jogging and have legs that could snap a man’s neck such is their taughtness (shut up. So a word.) I can be a hot mamma too.

I can’t decide though. What do you think dudes,

This would totally work if I was an egg ‘n bacon kinda gal. But I’m much more of a granola fan or bircher or pancakes or French toast. Eggs and bacon not so much. I know I know, this gut didn’t get here without some serious commitment to food but bacon schmacon, it just doesn’t do it for me. Eggs, eggs I adore but not fried. Gag.

So then this could work, showing off the legs and all:

but that could just be misconstrued as being a smug hot-legged lady. And besides, that seems like a LOT of tattoo and all that work around the ankles I suspect would hurt.like.hell.

I kinda like this idea:

Menacing. I like it. But still, not quite right. Besides, I am hideously accident prone when it comes to knives. Seriously, the nail on my left pointer is totally farked because I always slice half it off when rushing to cut stuff for dinner. Useless.

But then I found it, the perfect tat for me:

I’m sorry, but that is fucking awesome.

All images from Food & Ink website, go, be in awe.

Stuff and nonsense

So I’ve spent hours today trying to work out why Facebook won’t feed my blog posts to my Facebook page. Apparently it is all to do with white space in the PHP cadsk;lfjhalw;erubgvj;aruvn SORRY, what?

Yeah, EXACTLY.

All those hours I could have been jogging. Or eating. Or baking. Or playing with my children. Or dealing with Jasper’s lisp. Or maybe doing some pre-kindy work with him because dudes, I’m not sure that little sprogget even knows his alphabet.

See what happens when you have many children?

Just be grateful you’ve got clean clothes and there are cruskits in the cupboard kid, the rest you can work out along the way.

*****

So…

Apparently one of my Aunts took offence at me setting up Team Oscar and asking people for money. (She got wind of it as a lifetime ago she asked to be my friend on Facebook and I sent an alert out to everyone about my Team Oscar page. See what I did there! SO manipulative. Beware shonks and fly-by-nighters just out the fleece you!). Eugh. You know how there is always one who confirms your worst thoughts about something you’re doing? That it’s going to be misconstrued? Yeah. She hit that bulls-eye.

*****

So I go and visit the Facebook page and see something wonderful-kids who go/went to school with Oscar have ‘liked’ the page.

Faith restored.

*****

Last week we had a few of Felix’s friends over for the day. Talk about delightful boys. I think there’s a lot to be said for 10 year old boys – for all the signs of getting their emo on they are still little boys and easily delighted. It was a lovely day of hanging out, looking after guinea pigs, some putt putt golf and plying them with Anzac biscuits and home made pizzas.

The upside? Meeting their mums and discovering they too are lovely. Score!

The downside? Felix running in and breathlessly exclaiming that Grover, aka The Turdinator and now known as PeeMan had weed on one of Felix’s friend’s leg.

OH YOU SO KNOW I’M NOT KIDDING.

And there it was. In all it’s free stream glory across the bottom of his jeans.

WHAT.THE.FUCK???

Oh man did I tear shreds off him over that one.

Fast forward to later that day and he comes back down to the lounge with his pants in hand telling me in a singsong voice that he did a wee and some got on his hand so he tasted it and it was yum and mum can you put my pants back on NOW pease zankyu.

Hold me.

*****

We took the boys to see Tangled (thanks to a pass from Nuffnang) and wow, what a delightful movie. It’s sort of old school with singing and dancing and a princess and blah blah blah but without any of the cynicism and sarcasm in so many kids movies these days. Listen to me. Just slap me in a mumu and serve me dinner at 5.

But seriously, it was more Cinderella and Snow White than Shrek and it was all the better for it.

Mum took the little boys to see Yogi Bear today and said it was all over the shop – there was a love story going on and some sort of conniving office politics to try and destroy the forest peppered with the funny Yogi flying planes and stealing picnic baskets. As mum said, the former just went over the little boys’ heads while the rest they loved. I wonder if it would have been better for just trying to be one thing rather than many.

*****

Winners! Congratulations to Von and Pamela for winning a free pass for four to Tangled thanks to Disney and Nuffnang – I hope they enjoy it as much as we did (even if Felix did say, well, it wasn’t very boy-ish).

*****

Onward!

It has been a while hasn’t it.

About five years ago it was all the rage to meme meme meme. I still don’t know what that means. Is it that it is all about me me? Or is it an abreviation for something so obvious I now look like a complete doofus? Ah well, nothing new there.

It has been a grim grim week here. The abrupt, shocking and heart-breaking passing of beautiful Lori‘s husband, the ongoing flood crisis in Queensland (a post on which I have started so many times but which is just so vast and overwhelming it seems trite no matter how I word it), the shooting in Arizona and on it goes.

So it seems a good time to take stock and remember the good stuff, the stuff that makes me happy.

From my beautiful Blackbird

10 things that make me happy

  1. Homemade granola with greek yoghurt for breakfast
  2. Homemade chai mix which I stir into my tea every morning
  3. Sodoku on my iPhone
  4. The cool breeze that blows through our bedroom window across our bed
  5. Grover saying, ‘what that (s)mell?’
  6. Baking pretty much anything but in particular my lemon slice and my new honey nut slice
  7. Hanging out with new friends (aka mothers of my children’s friends)
  8. Running
  9. In bed, the weight of one of my children lying along my back (as opposed to the doink of the bloody bed shark)
  10. That all my children know all the words to the entire Dixie Chicks Home CD.

What makes you happy?

Onward.