The end of 2009

It coincides with the fact my broadband speed has run back to dialup, so this post will be short and sweet.

Have fun tonight everyone, maybe take some time to reflect on all the joys 2009 has brought us. Don't focus on the crap parts, leave it behind you where it belongs.

Bring on 2010!

Lot's and lots of love to you all xoxoxo

See you next year.

Rockin out to Rammstein

So Teen Queen scurried off the the Boxing Day sales and scored her own copy of Guitar Hero - clearly with mummys blessing.

Oh such good clean fun! This pic shows all 3 of my darlings rocking out. I wish I had taken video footage instead because the little ones were bouncing along perfectly in time on their new hopper balls whilst Teen Queen ripped it up.

The penny finally dropped about my dorky neighbour blasting random songs very late on Xmas Eve......clearly the Fat Man brought him Band Hero and he couldn't wait until morning to play with it.

I'm getting quite good now. Apparently I'm ready to move up in skill level from Easy to Medium. Of course due to the fact all the kids cleared off the next day so I had lots of time to improve my skills.

And did I - I spent about 3 hours in one afternoon being a rock star, thanking the screaming crowd for coming, and high fiving myself.

Then stopped and realised - I am no rock star, I am a suburban mother of three with piles of washing to fold.

Who's the dork now????

The Great Unwrapping

Yay for Hungry Hungry Hippos!
Yay for pool ponies and Star Wars figurines!

Worshipping the false idol - yay!

Off to mums for dinner on Xmas Eve. Awesomeness. A table decorated with magic, delicious food (3 helpings for Miss Unperfect) – lots of laughter during the great gift unwrapping and screams of delight when one of the neighbours took it upon himself to dress as Santa and visit every house in the street.


Home in the pouring rain and bellies full – little tackers off to sleep – presents already wrapped for a change so relaxing in front of those cheesy ass carols on telly until I could stand it no more.
It was weird this year. Teen Queen flew the coop a few months ago (just not enough angst in this house apparently) but of course returned for Xmas eve. Like any decent parent I immediately turned her room into storage space about 15 minutes after she left (bwahahahaha!), so she had to sleep on the couch (in front of the telly so bliss for her).
When it was time to do Santa she was awake. It was HORRIBLE. The spell was totally broken. I don’t care that she is 17. She doesn’t care. She knows mummy is Santa but seeing the complete BORINGNESS of mummy arranging the actual presents in front of the tree instead of whimsical thoughts of reindeer and sleigh bells (in Australia hahahahaha) were popped. Badly.
In the words of Teen Queen – “it’s ok mum, it’s a Rite of Passage”. Nooooooo! I never busted my parents putting the presents out and still haven’t at the age of 30 +.
Ah well.
So I went to bed earlyish but found I couldn’t sleep. One of the usually quiet neigbours decided he would stay up late blasting his stereo REALLY REALLY LOUD. Who does that Xmas eve? I was also puzzled at the choice of tunes. Weird – one minute blues (so that’s ok) next minute Top 40, then some heavy metal (rock on)…WTF? Then I could hear him singing KARIOKE? Even more wtf. GO to BED DORK.

Xmas shenanigans

Of course I had to go through the yearly shitfight with the outlaws about going to their house for Xmas lunch.
What gets me about this – each and every year the mother in law (MIL), who is not EVEN my MIL in reality has to make some sort of fuss. Apparently I suck because I don’t want to drive for 2 hours on Xmas day to listen to her family moan and bitch endlessly about everything in the universe, then eat her (truly awesome) Xmas dinner and drive 2 hours back home again. The food is lovely but surely not worth the 4 hours in the car? Xmas day is lovely for getting together with family…but surely not when you have to jam a smile on your face while you listen to the carping and moaning of the ‘adults’ over the table? Especially when you cannot get plastered in order to dull the pain or even stick a lampshade on your head to distract from the whining???

NOOOOO

So Lulu called it a day and said NO MORE! Shitfight ensued but it was over quickly and I got to spend the day at home…..aalllll day with MY family. Who insist on laughing and having fun at every given opportunity. So THERE.

OMG Guitar Hero

This is only the funnest ever game in the universe. FUNNEST. EVER.

I’m not a fan of most games Wii, PS3 or Atari….I just don’t have the attention span. I love the shooting at the screen games, but the ones where you have to go through 80000000000 scenes and pick up a magic flute, jump and and down 15 times on the spot whilst pressing A + B and Z in a certain order bores me to tears. I must admit I think I got Guitar Hero mixed up with Air Guitar silliness. I thought you just jumped around in front of the screen like a spaz and got points for wearing spandex. How wrong I was.

At the celebration evening of the birthday of my dear friend The Force there were cocktails and 4 axe (tee hee) guitar hero games.

Here is the Girl Band FAIL. The Girl Band are the dark ones, the FAIL part is the blonde tressed ladies who in NO time had the crowd booing us off the stage through sheer un co-ordination and lack of skill.

We laughed, we cried…..and everyone was kind enough to let me have a turn with my guitar set to MONG after some intense coaching by one of the Masters. My sides and my arms were still hurting the next day. Good times, awesome PATIENT friends.

Other terrible things my children have done to me...

A classic from the Teen Queen files.

Teen Queen was always independent from the word go. She also seemed to feel no fear, especially at the shops. She would talk to anyone and often wandered off with other families at the supermarket.

Once I watched her walk away from me at a large shopping centre, pushing her doll in the pram. I stood there wondering how far she would get before she remembered I wasn't there.
I watched, and followed and watched and followed....she didn't look back once. From one end of the centre to the other, not a care in the world.
If I had been distracted and not seen her walk off, she might well have gone outside and caught a bus to Timbucktoo before I noticed.
She would have been 2.5 years old.

I knew I had to do something about 'stranger danger' but didn't want to scare the pants off her with "Bad Man will take you away" stories. I ended up warning her that maybe some person she didn't know might want to take her without asking mummy and that was very bad. If that every happened she was to yell loudly "you are not my mummy - or daddy".

So six months later (you know what's going to happen don't you?), we were out somewhere and it was time to go home. She didn't want to go, so after 2 failed negotiations I took her by the hand firmly to pull her towards the door.

Those cornflower blue eyes went a shade darker and like a trooper she stood her ground and screamed YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER, YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER! At the very top of her lungs.

Embarrassed much? I can't quite remember how I got out of there intact because everyone within a 500m radius stopped dead to look. It might have been because we look so alike....maybe. I blocked it out....

000 - a family tradition?

I was chatting to an old friend later on the evening of the Cyclone 000 incident and she reminded me that Teen Queen did that to me at the same age.

Slightly different story though, remember this was the days of Home Alone being the biggest movie of all time.

So Teen Queen (back then she was Awesome Child) was dragging her feet getting ready for school. I had a big day at work and wanted an early start, but she refused to leave the house.
I did what all horrible parents do and walked out the front saying "well I'm off then - bye!". Awesome Child responds with "I'll call the Police and tell them you left me home alone."
Me says - "well you will also have to explain to them that you wouldn't get in the car to go to school" and headed out to the driveway.

Loudly slammed the car door. Nothing
Started the car. Nothing - now come on, this one ALWAYS works
Beeped the horn Nothing
Reversed out the driveway, slowly NOTHING!

I gave up in disgust at knowing she had me over a barrel now, I should not have made a threat I couldn't carry out.

I strode back in the house - just in time to see AC quickly hanging up the phone, looking very guilty indeed.

YES she did call 000 and she was even speaking to the operator when I interrupted. EEKS!

Cyclone and the Very Nice Policeman

So when your child gets to be a certain age you teach them how to call 000 in an emergency. Please, please take extra pains to explain what an emergency is won't you?


Because Cyclone just called 000 because he wasn't happy about being sent to bed with no story.


I did notice the cordless phone lying on the bench beeping away and when I hung it up noticed it had been off the hook for over 2 mins, which puzzled me because usually it does a really LOUD off the hook noise to alert you to it.


Then I saw it had 'ringer off' all over the screen and I spent a good 15 minutes swearing because I can't work out how to get the ringer back ON.


So I'm putting Betty Boo to bed, hear a loud knocking - the dogs go wild, and there are two rather tall police-type men at the door. I assume they are here because of the graffitti that appeared overnight on all fences but mine (gotta love those mutts for something). Looking back I wonder how that thought crossed my mind "Graffiti - let's get to the bottom of that Danno".


Fluffy mutt is trying to break though the security door and Disco dog is trying to jump through the window and I manage to squeeze my way out without letting them through so I can talk to the police in peace only to find out there is a report of a 000 call with no response. BRILLIANT.


I sheepishly explain Cyclones past threats to call the police when he has been in trouble and luckily they think its funny and agree to wait whilst I round up the offender for a good talking to.


Fluffy mutt escapes mid stern talk (which wasn't stern at all because they both were trying their hardest not to laugh) and kind police-type man chases her up the driveway as she goes to attack some mild mannered maltese X being walked by her elderly owner.



Talk over with and finished with "looks like you have your hands full". MUCH? I realised there I was standing in my skanky pink moccasins, Wot Wot headband on (DON'T ASK) with a very embarrassed Cyclone on one side of me and Betty Boo on the other side charming the pants off everyone with 3 different texta colours drawn all over her face and body.


They couldn't get out of here fast enough....laughing all the way.

And where pray tell did it come from?

Priceline, Priceline, you pay less at PRICELINE.

And you can have your own sachet of Placenta & Henna for only $3.95 - woooooooo!

Don't start on my tightassnes with Xmas presents - 3 teenage boys = various shaving creams, soaps and hair products all wrapped up in a noice package.

You KNOW you can't have too much soap when there are boys in da house.

HA HA HA HA hee hee hee - STOP it!

Oh this takes the CAKE. Whilst breaking the Xmas present land speed record (6 presents, 30 minutes) I came across this.



Ohh yeah!

Although I did take home my babies placentas in ice cream containers and lovingly planted them in the garden...this is getting silly!

For best results use with other fine Hask Placenta Products.

You mean there is more? Placenta Shampoo....hairspray? Great way to scare off a hot date when he runs his fingers through your hair - "it's the Placenta that keeps it so shiny darling".

Blueergh! No I'm not opening it, I don't want to know what it smells like even if it is perfumed up, I will KNOW there is placenta in it.

*Placenta extract is derived from animal placenta

Oh...well that's OK then.

Four Tawny Frogmouths sitting in a tree

Here is the little family. The babies are nearly all growed up now.

I thought I'd missed them and they had all flown the coop. There was no poo all over the footpath, the nest was gone and I felt a bit sad that I didn't get more shots.
But there they were again, all in a row.


Pity I couldn't move that branch. Looks the little one is giving me a death stare again.


OMG, Dad is too. Yep looking right at me and not moving.

Actually no, looking right through me and not moving. It started to get creepy.

I thought I'd better take a few more shots and then this -




They opened their eyes - like REALLY OPENED THEIR EYES........shhhiiiiiiiiiit!

Look at their faces in the earlier pics. Their entire faces are practically closed. Until something draws their attention obviously.

This pic didn't do the colour justice - they were GLOWING red.

I put the camera down and walked very very quickly back home.

Looks like Scorpio is doing the Kinder drop offs until it's safe again.

Awwwww Owly things

One of the great things about living in this Old House is the proximity to the local kinder. It's across the road and four houses up.

The other good thing is this....erm these -


That's Tawny Frogmouth Daddy

and this is Tawny Frogmouth Mummy. The shadow behind her is one of two babies. Fluffy, fluffy babies.

They aren't very easy to see and I'm not sure we would have even noticed they were there if it wasn't for the huge puddles of poo all over the ground at the Kinder gate.

So no, they are not actually owls - there are a few differences and they are apparently closer related to Nightjars - whatever the hell that is.
The parents kick the babies out of the nest so I wanted to make sure I got some pics before that happened. I missed a few more shots when my camera was being held hostage (hahahaha) but I did manage to get right underneath mumma to get this one.


Can you see that fluffy ball in the fork of the branches? See that black stripe? That's it's liddle eyes. It was giving me the evil eye I think.....but aawwwwwww.

So cute

Nearly there!

Ok ok ok - my lounge is nearly done. 4 years after I bought this place. A few little adjustments here and there.

Here is a recap



Bad, baaaaaad blue and some-sort-of-stony-colour. After much shenanigans, it looks like this -



I like the softness of this shot....that I forgot to put the flash on for...




So I just have to faff around with the curtains a little and it's nearly there.

Yay!

Curtains - a year in the making

And still not finished.

Here is the godawful window 'treatment' before


Bluuueergh. Vertical blinds should be illegal. 100 lashes for peach tints.

You would be able to see the lovely big windows if it wasn't for these wretched things.

What was that you say? Draw them back? Umm, no they are broken like they ALL end up. Broken, random verticals fell down and Cyclone managed to rip most of the weights out of the bottom the first week we moved here. And I let him.

So this is what I did. Got awesome fabric. Cut several lengths, mucked around with it then got bored and stuck it all under my bed for 10 months.

Finally got 4 hours to myself so I dragged everything out and started again.

I'm so bloody talented that I can sew a straight line. I can also wind a bobbin - with swearing and have read the instruction book so I vaguely know what the dials on the sewing machine are for.

****Warning - if you actually have some sewing ability or knowledge of curtain making, continue at your own risk. Your eyes might burn at the Lulu "technique".



I just sewed all the lengths together, and after realising every bloody hook or whatever was going to be too heavy for the fabric, I attached black binding across the top.
Then I found those (tee hee) rings with the alligator clips on the bottom, clipped them on and voila!



and yes, it looks bloody terrible but I'm off to get more rings because they need to be spaced way closer.

Will update you when I'm done. The Hummingbird is coming over tomorrow to inspect my work so I have to go polish the television...

Dinner at the House of Turk

So off we all went to see Turkish Delight and sample her awesome hospitality. I was very much looking forward to a) a meal I didn't have to cook b) using a knife and fork at the same time and c) a whole lotta lovely turkish fare and ouzo to boot.
I was intending to have several pictures taken of us all, looking glamourous and serene around a table like grown ups.
That was totally blown out the window by a note from the Turk insisting we wear comfy clothes and NO makeup. Now - the Turk is lovely but she is also mad and has a screwdriver she is not afraid to brandish at those who piss her off. I'm not joking.

However I DID gather the courage to disobey and wear makeup for the occasion. There is something not right about going out for dinner looking like a schlep. Supermarket is fine. Dinner with friends is a no no.

However I was mercilessly teased by everyone else all the way to bloody East Bicycle or where ever she lives and it was then I realised there would be no glamour shots of the girls that night.

So I had to settle for the kitchen. The shiny, shiny kitchen.


Forgive my fascination with tiles that don't fall off and places for everything.

Here is some of the food


There was heaps more, the entire table was full and every single mouthful was a dream. I ate myself stupid.

Then came the ouzo and I can't remember much more except for laughing my ass off for the rest of the night.

Oh and waking up the next morning and generously offering The Expat a nice hot cuppa. In which I put salt instead of sugar. Yep on the morning after a big night on the ouzo a nice hot cup of SALTY tea is just what you want.

So she kept my camera hostage for the rest of the week. I think I got off lightly....

My bad

Still neglecting mah blog - but I have excuses!

Real good ones - first off...well I went out for a sumptuous dinner at a friends. She pulled out the ouzo, we all got perfectly plastered and I left my camera behind. I cannot blog without my pics. More on this later.

I've been buying doors for my bedroom from my secret wreckers yard. More on this later.

I've nearly finished making curtains for my lounge room. More on this later.

I had to oil my outdoor furniture and clean my gutter for fire season. Less on this later.

And just the general stuff that happens when you live in a zoo. I think it;s best to get used to the fact I won't be conscientiously blogging every day. More like a verbal spew every 5 days or so.

Top 5 questions I ask myself on a regular basis

1) What day is it?
2) Where is my mobile?
3) Why are the Cruskits in the bathroom?
4) Why can I only keep half the house tidy at one time?
5) Why are the nail clippers in the car?
6) How much hair can a Labrador shed in one day?

Ok so it's six, the last one occurred to me when I noticed a 6 foot furball/dustbunny roll across the floor when I swept 2 hours ago....

MORE lemony goodness

This is Lemon Sherbet. Yuummmeeeeeeeeeee!
Turns your mouth inside out but who cares - that's what lemons are all about, right?

I'll be trying this with other citrus fruits soon too, cos it's so damn easy.

Woooo lemons!

Here is my LONG awaited Lemon Curd!

I have this awesome neighbour that regularly throws the delights of his garden over the fence. It's a game between him and The Cyclone - he calls over the fence "Boy, Boy!" and Cyclone goes running to try and catch what he can as various fruits and veg - including chillies and persimmons - rain down upon his head.

I called Miss Neurotic for the slow cooker (read EASY) recipe - but when she mentioned such phrases as "double boiler" or something my eyes glazed over, but not before we both wondered since all large slow cookers appear to be OVAL and most good bowls appear to be ROUND how that was to be achieved.
Feeling the IMMENSE pressure of my Limey friend, I knew I had to press ahead, but buggered if I was looking for an OVAL bowl.

So I did it in the microwave. And here are the delicious results! Yes, I love Indian food (go Pataks!) and if I was a decent craftyass I would have dressed the jars in perfect pinking shear edged rounds of some twee fabric before taking pics for you. But I can't be arsed.

It's too hot, and who cares what the jars look like, I'm not selling it, I'm eating it....

How to clean your kitchen in 3 minutes flat

Make an appointment for a stranger to come and change all your light globes and shower heads for more energy efficient ones.

If possible arrange for your child to be unwell, so you are exhausted from being up all night taking her to the toilet.
Endure a 45 minute tantrum from said unwell child because she can't have a 3rd icy pole at 11am.
Feed everyone lunch but do not tidy up afterwards, leave it piled up on top of last nights dishes.

When everyone is fed and actually quiet reading the library books you have the foresight to pick up in the morning, lie on the couch wearing only your underwear and congratulate yourself on the ability to ignore the mess.

When the man knocks on the door watch how fast you can get dressed, smile and direct him to the other end of the house (which of course must be covered in a clean clothes scatter bomb) whilst you clean the kitchen in RECORD time, pour him an icy cold glass of water and try to maintain the illusion of a 1950's housewife.
I think the sewing machine on the dining table helped - especially since there was a half bottle of brandy sitting next to it....

Keeping The Cyclone busy on a hot day

All for free! Just a collection of buckets, a ladder from the hard rubbish day and building materials. All the timber came from hard rubbish as well, and this is what I'm using to build a chook shed.

Add in a daddy - who is a large child himself, find a shady spot in the backyard and PRESTO. Keeps him busy for hours.

We are pretty good water savers, even though we don't have a tank. It's a bit sad the kids can't run around under the sprinkler like we all did but I make sure they don't miss out on water fun.

I have several large buckets lined up along the garage wall. The guttering there is useless and always overflows so that catches heaps of water for the kids to play with. I cover it over until it's sunny - but then again my two will be out playing in the water even if it snowed.

We also keep the bath water in the tub during the day so they also spend alot of time transferring the water to the backyard with their watering cans. When it's all finished with - all goes onto the garden!

Keeping Betty Boo busy on a hot day...

So it's starting to get hotter.

This is one of my favourite activities to keep Betty inside on a hot day.

RICE!

You need - an old sheet or doona cover, spread on the floor and rolled up at the edges.
Rice
Lots of little containers - I like to save the little yoghurt pots.
Plastic bits and pieces - measuring spoons, medicine cups etc.
Food colouring - optional.

If you are going for colour, separate the rice into different containers and add a few drops of colouring. Stir with a spoon to coat.

This keeps Betty Boo going for ages. She loves to make soup and cakes and cups of tea using the rice.


She also like to stick her head in the containers....


and when mummy has made the grave mistake of leaving her be so I can get some work done, this is the result. All over the couch. Under the couch. In between the cushions and all over both dogs.
I was in the same room, just down the other end and I STILL haven't learnt. Even after 3 children that silence does not really mean a child playing happily. Well it does but it also usually means a child playing happily getting up to NO GOOD!

Enemy, thy name is APATHY

I did something terrible yesterday and if I was caught I would have been de-friended by many.

Ok well probably just The Expat and Miss Neurotic but they count and they KNOW I should know better.
So it got a bit warm yesterday and that makes me whiney and saps my strength. I don't want to do anything - I had heaps to do but sadly for each project on the go I needed just one more thing.

A caulking gun to fill the gaps near the ceiling.
More ribbon for my sewing project.
Butter for the lemon curd.
Food for the children.

It was getting late and I knew I had to do something apart from lying on the couch prostrate with heat exhaustion. I could make an excuse for all the things on the list but the last one, the shopping needed to be done.

DAMMIT, I screamed inside my head. I grabbed the keys and ran out the door before I could justify presenting toasted sandwiches for dinner 2 nights in a row.

My attire was something do be desired but I DIDN'T CARE. Who on earth would care that I was wearing paint spattered tracksuit pants (that's a very formal description really), black thongs and wait for it....a blue bonds singlet. A truckie kind of singlet. I got addicted to them whilst pregnant for the comfort factor but usually a white one.

Apparently they are also known as 'wife beaters' O my god. But I DIDN'T CARE. Who is going to care, who would bother looking at me twice anyway, I don't know everybody in the world do I?

But it dawned on me as I parked the car, that each and every time I do the "I'm daggy but I DON'T CARE' thing I always, always see some biarch from school days that I hated with a passion. That looked down at me because my hair was blue and I didn't know the Lord's Prayer my first day at catholic school.

But I didn't see anyone I knew. It didn't stop me from internally sneering at those wearing denim mini skirts and heeled shoes (omg) though.

However, as I was pushing my trolley out to the car whilst thankfully remaining incognito I caught a glimpse of myself in the shop window.

I forgot I was wearing my hair Princess Leia style.



Awesome.

Our new guest

Meet the temporary addition to the clan. For purposes of this blog she shall be called Disco and she belongs to The Expat. There is no room at her mummy's new place so she will stay here for a little while.

The Expat is terrified we will want to keep her and no wonder. She really is a lovely pooch and the kind that gets under your skin really quickly. However, sometimes the shine is taken off when she jumps onto my head at 4.30am thrilled and excited about the possum relay on the roof or when she leans against a newly painted wall....

SEE, I'm sure she heard my fingers typing that because she has just looked up at me with those huge brown eyes saying - oh but you love me right?

Ah yes, we do.

My helper

Leave them alone with a sample pot of paint colour and this is what you get.

My fault for nicking off to the loo for 2 minutes.....

The good news is that screaming hysterically at the paint whilst hosing it off the table actually works.

Unperfect but YUMMY!

Raspberry and white chocolate muffins....

Not a muffin fan, but Miss Neurotic swayed me with these tasty little numbers. I had a box of frozen raspberries in the freezer and there is always chocolate in my house so I thought I'd give it a whirl.
Although Miss N always gives me extra little tips, my version will never look like hers. Mine are slightly burnt on top and have brown bits all over the baking paper so it looks rather crap, where Neurotic style muffins look so damn awesome you WANT to take a picture but can't because both hands are stuffing your face and the camera gets forgotten.

And don't bother asking me for the recipe, I told you this was never going to be a baking blog and anyway I wrote instructions on the back of an envelope last week and who knows where it is now.

So all you get is my unperfect cooking to giggle/sneer at, unlike some ladeeda types that ask Miss Neurotic for baking tips then blogs it using stock photos and claiming it to be a 'tried and true recipe'.....

Look at THIS!

Lookie what I got! Guess what it is?

It's a rolling pin! A REAL one!

It was sent to me yesterday and I squealed with joy when I unwrapped the package - so beautiful!
I celebrated my making pizza for dinner, and JOY at how much easier it is to use a real rolling pin. I didn't feel like chasing anyone around the house waving it like I thought I might, but I did feel every so slightly Martha Stewart-ish. Well until I looked around at the usual mess I made - because Martha would never be so messy. So maybe the Evil Martha Stewart prediction wasn't so far off....

Now look, I'm not a total spaz for using a champers bottle for a rolling pin - I do have some skills left. See the bottle is cold and smooth so dough doesn't stick to it. Therefore this glass pin (as far as I'm concerned) is streets ahead of the wooden ones that mad old ladies wield.
I also get to toast my sporadic attempts at cooking at the end of it.

AND this my friends is another reason why I lurrve my new one so much. See the cork in the end? I'm gonna stick VODKA in it and keep it in the freezer.

Killing two birds with one stone - that's me!

Another wall finished..

Yaaaay!

I finished my kitchen/dining room wall! Remember this? That's the plasterer filling the trenches left by a stupid 'handyman' that cannot hang walls correctly.




Then we were left with this -



Prep coat x2 and you have this - niiiiice!


2 weeks of stressing over colour. I'm going to put the 1702 different sample pots I have on Freecycle. I've used about 20ml out of each pot so If I can save someone some $$ and stop all that lovely paint going to the tip it's a good thang.



Here is the end result. I can't wait to get the ladder out of my house. Although that ladder is the bees knees, I'm sick of it in my house. I have to wait until tomorrow morning to check I haven't missed anywhere, then I can move everything back into it's place. YAAAAY!




Oh lordy that revolting aircon box has got to remain marring my wall until further notice. I'll need one heck of a powerful unit to effectively cool the area and there is no point putting that in until I have the curtains up, and I have the $$$ to actually do it...

So I'll still be blocking off half the lounge with sheets this summer so we can get some relief from another predicted scorcher - but I'm still a very lucky girl. I have a roof over my head, walls to paint and a bunch of funny kids to entertain me.

Cheers

Recycling, reloving, reusing

I love love love Hard Rubbish Day. Our council does one twice a year. Anything too big for the bin goes out on the nature strip to be spirited away.

It used to be awful because there would be 'kerb crawlers' out the front at all times of the day or night sending Fluffy Mutt into paroxysms of barking joy, and keeping me constantly thinking someone was here for a visit. Each time I heard a muffler I would run about the house throwing everything on the floor into cupboards panicking I was to be caught out in the atrocious mess in which I live....

So the neighbourhood has learnt not to throw anything out until the day before to minimize the stress.

Scorpio LOVES Hard Rubbish day more than me, and he does it properly.
He takes the children and Fluffy Mutt for a walk, pegs what he wants then races back to get the car and fill it up. He stops for a chat or gives a wave to the people in the house he is flogging stuff from, then returns back to fill the garage with his finds.

We got this - perfectly clean cupboard! Goes straight into the shed to house my brooms and painting gear.

And this - 2 brand new planter boxes and a cabinet I'm going to use for a medicines or laundry things.




and three, yes THREE kids bicycles in near perfect working order!


Cyclone got a bike for Xmas but we realised the whole thing was too heavy for him to balance well (why they make kids bikes like that is beyond me), so Scorpio changed some of the parts around and within 5 minutes Cyclone was whizzing down the footpath with no training wheels!

Scorpio also put together a whole new bike for little Zac at kinder who was thrilled as he had grown out of his old one.

All this stuff was going into the back of a crusher never to be seen again! What a terrible waste.

The Village People

O goodness I have neglected my lil blogerino, but MY have I been busy!

First off I helped a friend move house. A pretty sucky situation for my friend The Expat but a few emails and we had a posse ready to go pack the house and move her outta there.

I had thoughts of blogging this move - talking about how important a strong community is, to build your own "village" to rely on and contribute to yadda yadda. I was even going to take photos. I had everything sorted, organised and staggered the help so there were always packers and muscle going at the same time.
I was going to call this post The Village.

However in retropsect The Village People seems to somehow be more appropriate. A little more comedy if you will...

The poor Expat was at the police station at 5am due to a deranged and drunken man appearing at her door in the early hours.

Then we had a drop out due to excessive alcohol use by the babysitter the night before. I trust The Ray spent the morning showing the children how to bang pots outside the bedroom door.

We had a small child tanty issue. Of course there is nothing small about a tanty no matter

And to top it all off, on the way to pick up the truck, yours truly ran out of petrol. In the middle of the road. WHO DOES THAT PAST THE AGE OF 19???

So therefore all careful planning was out the window, the truck got there late, everything was a shambles BUT

We got it all done. And entire house packed and moved in 4 hours. The Expat is happily in her own place with her teeny, tiny perfect boy child and all is well with the world...

So the moral of the story - when you need to move quickly call The Village People.

Or not....

Stupid Spring Racing Carnival is here again....

THIS IS A FILLY



THIS IS NOT A FILLY, THIS IS A HUMAN FEMALE



Well several of them, at the races. AT the races - NOT racing.

I can't stand it every Spring, when the news starts banging on about fillies - especially when they are not talking about saleyards.

So I DARE the media to stop using that word every Spring. What's wrong with calling us LADIES? Not that I am one, but I'm sure as heck not a bloody FILLY either.

Hmm, I've just had a thought, maybe the words ladies isn't really appropriate either - at least half of all race going females just put on their King St nightclub best, whack on some netting from Spotlight call it a "facinator" and end up passed out on the manicured lawn with the dress around their heads by 1pm anyway....






www.Copyright-free-photos.org.uk for the horsey
ntnews.com.au for the laydeez

More uncooking

What's this?


Yes, chocolate biscuits ready to go in the oven. Yum.
Yes, that is a bottle of bubbles ready to be opened on a Friday evening, but not only that - it's my rolling pin.

I don't know why I don't have a proper one. Either it's because I'm a little scared of them since I read an Enid Blyton book with a picture of a mad woman chasing someone with one, or I'm worried I might turn into some sort of evil Martha Stewart.
Anyhow it works on two levels because I certainly need some bubbles after cooking with the children.

I'm writing this at an unusual time of day. I'm a little bit bored because I have to wait until the dishwasher has finished before I can turn the oven on. I have a stupid kitchen remember. I bake with a benchtop oven and the dishwasher (yeah, I know at least I HAVE one) doesn't have it's own point.

The size of the kitchen isn't an issue, but its as mental as the rest of the house in weird ways. So it's wonderful that I have a large bench looking over the dining room, right?
Well no, because the power points are all in one corner. I can't even use the space I have *whiiiine... (actually WINE!)
I have to move everything into one corner filled with the toaster, kettle, oven, dishwasher and negotiate all the things jammed into the points like fish filter, telephone and work out which is more important for that moment. Blender or phone? Dishwasher or oven?

I have to work myself up about it so I can justify the wine....WINE!

Cheers

P.S - I have the fish tank in the kitchen to hide where all the tiles fell off...

The Victorian Dust Storm

You might not have heard about this one on the news. It happened this afternoon and was very localised....to my dining area in fact.

The plaster was dry enough to be sanded ready for painting, so it's all smooth now. And the floor looks like this



Lucky Cyclone is here to help with the vacuuming.


It must be memorialised that for once he was helping clean the mess instead of making it....


Here is Betty Boo, fresh from her bath. Yes she is wearing her bathers even though its 10 degrees and hailing outside. Even though its bedtime.

10 points if you noticed they are on backwards....

Sunday Afternoon Seed Raising

Time to get some seeds in! I love having masses of floral colour all around the house - near the front door, outside all the windows, pots and pots all over the deck. It looks cheerful and distracts away from all the crappy bits of this old house.

Now, you can go to the garden centre and pay HEAPS for 'pots of colour'. If you are in a hurry, go for your life but it's totally unecesarry. It's more fun doing it like this -


Old seedling trays, seed raising mix, empty soft drink bottles and a few packets of seeds.


Add children



Line the seedling trays with paper. You can see I have used pages of my Tax Pack. I save the newspapers and their endless 'articles' on AFL players and their pneumatic wives for the compost.
Fill the trays with Seed Raising Mix and wet it down, drop the really teeny tiny seeds in (2 rows of 4 for this type of container) and sprinkle more dirt over the top to cover them. Use a spray mist to wet down.

Then cut the tops of the soft drink bottles, fix over the top and you have a mini seed nursery.




I've used an old CD container for the long seed tray. You can get good little setups from the garden shop for about $20 but I like to use what's around the house.

The name of the game is to keep the little fellas warm, so if you have somewhere inside like the laundry or a sunroom you can keep them in there until they sprout.

There is always so much to choose from and it can get overwhelming. It's a good idea to choose a colour theme. That way you can have all different sort of flowers, with a colour theme running through it to keep it all together.

Maybe all yellows and oranges for example. My fave combination for summer are blues and whites - pansies, petunias are easy peasy and give you months of showy brightness.

I usually have no yellow or orange at all and stick to white, pinks and purples, but I cannot resist Sweet William (sometimes called Hearts Ease). They have cheerful little purple and yellow faces bobbing around, and Cyclone has declared them his favourite...

They can take heaps of sun too. I've got Impatiens in as well. They like a bit more shade but I have a place under the plum tree I want to brighten up.

And just in case you are wondering I haven't done any more on the vegie patch. It keeps raining and I have other pressing matters at hand. Like what fabric I should use to recover my dining chairs. Stay tuned because I can't decide and need your help!

Cheers,