tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63637606312768348252024-02-20T12:17:41.369+11:00Unperfect LifeWhen life gives you lemons - reach for the tequilaLuluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-89705280199376796972011-01-14T10:21:00.002+11:002011-01-14T10:30:34.206+11:00TodayI called it a funeral but it's not. It will be a celebration....but when I woke this morning I realised I was far too close to the edge. Will I even make it through? Just a few more hours.<br /><br />We are having 2 send offs Amy because - well we can't find a place big enough to hold everyone. There are so many people I long to see and hold, no one will be wearing black. People are coming from all over the world, interstate and around the corner.<br /><br />I can feel the overwhelming need from so many people wanting to pay tribute and to show her family how much they loved her. The circus and film friends have been so so sweet with their gentle enquiries - will the service be in a church? (hell no) Is it ok if we don't wear black? (hell yeah).<br /><br />The circus has offered their tent to hold the second service. I am going to be the ringmaster, and we will gather in the tent so I can blow the whistle for one minute of wild ruckus in respect. There will be drums, juggling, hoops, firetwirling. We will all go mad. We will sing songs, swap stories laugh and cry.<br /><br />But I'm just distracting myself from today. <br /><br />Holding on just a little bit longer, just a bit longer for my familyLuluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-51213866151774279812011-01-10T00:34:00.007+11:002011-01-10T01:04:06.398+11:00I'm okayishRight now I am cushioned by serapax, so the constant feeling of hysteria is contained temporarily.<br /><br />I think writing my last post was wrong somehow. How shocking for you all to read that...of course I had to somehow vomit it all out, and this is the blog I started to keep track of my life.....but I forget people read it, and are used to laughing when they come here.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1NPLkyCWzck5erIeYeO4fVSI0-F1JpwSY4mippen5tLUY7c2_ppp9ZYpZ150K7Igviat78UsYK5b8OSMh5C4VKeCAoLtqhR4-K3WtPLfo-2TgCZFgk5o1_XgPR8i6vsg1DIHaoebobMa/s1600/amy+smile.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1NPLkyCWzck5erIeYeO4fVSI0-F1JpwSY4mippen5tLUY7c2_ppp9ZYpZ150K7Igviat78UsYK5b8OSMh5C4VKeCAoLtqhR4-K3WtPLfo-2TgCZFgk5o1_XgPR8i6vsg1DIHaoebobMa/s320/amy+smile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560182005065246578" /></a><br /><br /><br />Just now I have to cushion you all too, and try to make it better. My sister lived the fullest, most full ON life. There were no empty spaces and Amy did things most of us couldn't even dream about.<br /><br />I can't tell you everything now, so I will just cut and paste something I wrote on my home community forum so you can take something positive and say to yourselves "there is so much more I can do with my life" and by that I mean taking joy out of every single thing like Amy did.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFYKM3AOQi1YVu9OUegGsRAvIILSzgtgmO-9agB6z4cVsSNVejTebu6gQKE8xZXpNxrE9KizSMb6fAOOzkSWwUycZ0e3yw3cimvlkfw5FfFkOTu2BeF7OwaktfzB0ji7E_nwndxGdQBW1/s1600/amy+flying.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFYKM3AOQi1YVu9OUegGsRAvIILSzgtgmO-9agB6z4cVsSNVejTebu6gQKE8xZXpNxrE9KizSMb6fAOOzkSWwUycZ0e3yw3cimvlkfw5FfFkOTu2BeF7OwaktfzB0ji7E_nwndxGdQBW1/s320/amy+flying.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560183077480771314" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>Amy was elastic girl, it's a family trait. She started gymnastics rather young....and was headed for the Olympics. But her team just burnt out. It really was too much. But Amy kept it up. We always thought she should be a clown. As a child she would spend hours pulling faces in the bathroom mirror. She literally ran off to join the circus...but in the coolest way possible. She did puppetry (and was on FARSCAPE!), she did Tissu, she trained the Flying Fruit Bats, she worked with Circus Monoxide and Circus Oz. She took Belle to her first Gay Pride march. She was kinda gay but couldn't decide (yanno, its kinda convenient ). She was the first graduate of NICA (National Institute of Circus Arts), were she got her degree in Clowning and Trapeze. Mum and Dad came to her performances but could never watch her fly in case she fell. She never did.<br /><br />Thanks why I don't want "fly free with the angels' - because Amy already was one. I will never forget watching her grace as she flew over the top of us all, dressed as an angel, with white feathers floating gently from her wings to the ground.<br /><br />When Belle was just learning to stand Uncle Amy used to balance her on ONE HAND. Nearly had a heart attack when I walked in on them in the lounge room. I hope I can find the pics of her balancing Belle on her feet - oh I have to show you to believe it.<br /><br />She loved my children so much she wanted her own model. She made one and he is beautiful. <br /><br />I was there when Fin was born. It was the most fantabulous birth. We had a DJ...well a laptop and 2 awesome friends. We bopped, we danced and we watched Fin emerge, we cracked up laughing when Amy decided she must be a man because the gas made her voice so low and dammit we even got her to pretend she was Barry White.<br /><br />The bestest thing was that I told her how amazing I thought she was. With family you assume they know how much you love them, but it needs to be said out loud. She looked after my dad when I couldn't. And she did a better job.<br /><br />Everyone needs a sister like her.</strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAfB216B20VT4Tx9DcomJmyxTOig1kxSFhlogHxlL9bnuerMcc7sD4fM1J9nOeiDktRKFRsQnvmGC60uZwZrQIsgrMOmGhmfqCAbG__an8_yNxoWhTKEb5freXarObShy34i6F3OLfPxG/s1600/flying+high+abu+dabi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAfB216B20VT4Tx9DcomJmyxTOig1kxSFhlogHxlL9bnuerMcc7sD4fM1J9nOeiDktRKFRsQnvmGC60uZwZrQIsgrMOmGhmfqCAbG__an8_yNxoWhTKEb5freXarObShy34i6F3OLfPxG/s320/flying+high+abu+dabi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560183750239575922" /></a><br /><br />Flying high over the stadium in Dubai, see the structure at the bottom? That's the roof of the MASSIVE stadium...and yes she is upside down.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKIMB1sbWFOUyheZtl5jTVPKatEWh1k-vdGPnJTBYvXDlsn_wSOFd5ZV4pVXMT2UanG_9170h_yug8aBxvfbyF-RYwV2zVVvkk1QdV9HZy8kgWcKEA99hIXfkuZWfjCFocZvIS1DNPRiD/s1600/amy+smile+tummy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKIMB1sbWFOUyheZtl5jTVPKatEWh1k-vdGPnJTBYvXDlsn_wSOFd5ZV4pVXMT2UanG_9170h_yug8aBxvfbyF-RYwV2zVVvkk1QdV9HZy8kgWcKEA99hIXfkuZWfjCFocZvIS1DNPRiD/s320/amy+smile+tummy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560185167686237170" /></a><br /><br />So proud to have a tummy full of her very own baby.<br /><br /><br />Thank you for the message, I hope this makes you feel a little better.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-87601190723035986112011-01-08T02:18:00.002+11:002011-01-08T09:05:53.500+11:00Half LifeFor the rest of it, I will be only half. Half an Unperfect Life is the way it is then? Oh ok.<br /><br />No, hang on a minute - I'm really supposed to live the rest of my life without my sister? Really?<br /><br />Mum calls, her voice was wierd. Where is Amy, someone called someone who called someone else and said she collapsed.<br />I call other sister whose voice is shaking and gives me the number of someone who is with Amy.....she has stopped breathing.<br /><br />I call the number, hear another shaking voice that gives me the address and I write it in broken blue pencil, then feel a part of myself leave my body when she says She Is Gone. No, no I'll be there in a minute and fix it up in no time and tell her off for scaring me.<br /><br />I scream for The Batchelor to come home, I scream at the children for fighting and make them go to their rooms, I scream at the teenager to look after them I have to go.<br /><br />Do I call mum and tell her? She is interstate on holiday and I think I shouldn't until I get there and know what is really going on, so I keep driving and screaming. Mum calls and she knows because the police tell her, another part of me leaves my body when I hear the anguish in her voice. I scream at her to please come home mummy come home. Mum screams at me to stop driving, call a cab or get someone to drive me but it will take too long so I put on control voice, tell her I'll be fine.<br /><br />I call Cailin and scream at her. I don't know where I'm going, I'm not sure where I am so she directs me over the phone while I scream out the window.<br /><br />There are police cars everywhere, I tell them I need to see her. Did they take her away yet, they tell me yes or so I thought. They ask me 100 million questions. A beautiful girl rides up with a bunch of flowers in her basket. I watch her face and hope she isn't here for Amy. I turn away when I hear her scream too but then I sink to the concrete.<br /><br />She died on the floor of the kitchen in the middle of making dinner for her son. I want to go lie on the floor where she was.<br /><br />She is still lying there. <br /><br />More pieces leave my body and I think I'm going to pass out from shock but decide to get a blanket to cover her because I don't want her to get cold. Even though it's 32 degrees. Then decide not to do that and look for a nice shrub in the garden to throw up into.<br /><br />Blur, blur questions, crying, phone calls blur.<br /><br />After a while I am 'officially' given permission to say good bye. The Bike Girl and I hold hands and take a deep breath and cross the threshold. We soak her in tears. I look around for signs to make sure and know in my heart that she didn't hurt. She hadn't felt any pain. I don't think she knew what happened and either do we.<br /><br />Her little boy is upstairs with the neighbour. He is fast asleep on the couch and I gather him up, his head falls against my shoulder and his golden curls tickle my face. I take him home and contemplate being a mother of four.<br /><br />The little children don't know yet. We don't how to tell little Finush his mummy has gone and we are waiting for someone to help us.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOhidyEL39gCXeUqXKBMF0JZO_fdx9_Vk3TWVBRaLWSIowzU-lR5A7N5nIgpIjOPAlYe30z6opCncdW9S1YuJlrWlzyJJrxRSKzbYL372YqW7eITJn1OcWe_1pNq9vhZN6G4wxffCDO1h/s1600/amyfin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOhidyEL39gCXeUqXKBMF0JZO_fdx9_Vk3TWVBRaLWSIowzU-lR5A7N5nIgpIjOPAlYe30z6opCncdW9S1YuJlrWlzyJJrxRSKzbYL372YqW7eITJn1OcWe_1pNq9vhZN6G4wxffCDO1h/s400/amyfin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559567617041072306" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />I am terrified of telling Cyclone.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-8374198413598504312011-01-06T06:18:00.000+11:002011-01-06T06:18:00.125+11:00Getting Passive Agressive with the Xmas tree.Got your Christmas tree all packed away yet? I bloody hope so, it's MONTHS till Xmas ha de ha haar.<br /><br />I usually have mine down by the 28th, the 31st at the very latest. I have to wait until the children are out of the house because I can't stand the wailing, but there was no wailing last year because the tree still stands proudly even though it's the January 6. Cos I'm playing Tree Games. Oooh yeah I am.<br /><br />So I am sharing this house with The Batchelor and I know I've mentioned what a clean freak he is. I can live with that, it's his house after all but there is only so much I can take when he gets whiny about the size of the Xmas tree. It's not huge by any standards, but he wants me to use his Xmas tree. The puny crappy 2 foot high thing just won't do when you have children in the house. He sulks and says - and I quote - "but it won't fit".<br /><br />It's a fucking 4 bedroom house, don't tell me there isn't room for a nice tree for the children for 2 flippin weeks. <br /><br />So of course I put my lovely tree up and let the children decorate without ANY input from mummy. The more lopsided the better. HA! Old Grinch. I saw his eye twitch, I swear, and now I'm going to beat him over the head with his own grinchiness by leaving it for another few days yet.<br /><br />I've made sure to mention every morning since Boxing Day that I will take the tree down that afternoon, but don't.<br /><br />I've got a good tip for storage.....whenever I get sick of annoying grinchman.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Xm5uS5EsfaXfMCPXl1cS6LaYNY6M4TbYUEJptHWKiboYI15Vx6F7FypAfL0JE8Pe7GtzlGBFCXRWD5A2IU7fzFhpoXjWZEGl8_BxBBJhIsbWCrMcVCHCkzHMs37N3hd92rAt5k0VUhvC/s1600/IMG_2232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Xm5uS5EsfaXfMCPXl1cS6LaYNY6M4TbYUEJptHWKiboYI15Vx6F7FypAfL0JE8Pe7GtzlGBFCXRWD5A2IU7fzFhpoXjWZEGl8_BxBBJhIsbWCrMcVCHCkzHMs37N3hd92rAt5k0VUhvC/s400/IMG_2232.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558668892014433858" /></a><br /><br /><br />See these boxes? I bought them - no shit - about 15 years ago at The Reject Shop for $2 each. They still have the price tags on the bottom. They are really robust cardboard boxes and I use them to store the decorations. Easy to stack, they protect the fragile things perfectly, you can stuff metres of tinsel in and the best bit is you can decorate the tree then stash the boxes straight under and they look like presents.<br /><br />I hate a bare tree.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-58123545408327442502010-12-29T11:57:00.004+11:002011-01-03T22:36:54.262+11:00Oh...hello!Whoa, I've been a bit quiet haven't it?<br /><br />It's been a combination of a few things - living life instead of blogging it (lol), working flat out on the house and.....a smashed laptop. NOOOOOO!<br /><br />My poor darling old lappy fell off the outdoor table and onto the brick pavers rendering it useless. I was pretty shattered about losing photos (DON'T lecture me about backing up, my EHD already shat itself this year) until I was assured by a tech head that he will be able to retrieve most of the data.<br /><br />This of course means a temporary reprieve for all of you that find my renovating updates boring as batshit. I'll make up for it later though HA HA HA HA!<br /><br />I've also been finishing off my business website. Well, actually I have been waiting over seven weeks for a so-called 'website designer' to finish stuffing about with the things I can't be arsed doing. Fuck me it's been a nightmare, and of course you can't pay out on them even though it's due because they have you by the short and curly password factor.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV58IbaFPOwG5zH_6ed60SW7NLghq7mVagH3JYWf7aCD5nQzdfO-haOAHby4tSAprH0OgkIf7SGQKXgvkbdu4W2AUWwSrvy03zf1AzNuPYI_ahyhFrpNWHVmGseRc0b9wjpW82NPyRaZKO/s1600/EOBLogoFA.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV58IbaFPOwG5zH_6ed60SW7NLghq7mVagH3JYWf7aCD5nQzdfO-haOAHby4tSAprH0OgkIf7SGQKXgvkbdu4W2AUWwSrvy03zf1AzNuPYI_ahyhFrpNWHVmGseRc0b9wjpW82NPyRaZKO/s400/EOBLogoFA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557914282243177938" /></a><br /><br />This logo was designed by an ACTUAL professional - Angela at Luvly Graphix, at least someone rocks in the design webworld. I'm sure I'll be done in the next 2 weeks, then I'll be flogging it mercilessly. Essence of Balance is a good thang.<br /><br />Until then, I shall be back with my usual series of verbal diahorreha on whatever subject I feel like.<br /><br />Cheers xoxoxoLuluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-8427172589825182122010-12-10T07:07:00.001+11:002010-12-10T07:07:00.192+11:00Report on the Bill Issue and the Elvish FundIt's taken me a while to absorb the magnitude of this tale, and longer to write about it.<br /><br />My last post was a screaming UP YOURS to a place that provided support and assistance to my nutty Aspy child Cyclone. The support was great but their billing terms were fricken ridiculous and I told them so. (I could put a link in here, but you may as well just scroll down lol).<br /><br />So the first bit of news to report is I have not received another bill since. I have not received ANY response at all, and I was REEEEEALLY looking forward to it. Since they appear to send these stupid demands via snail mail each Friday without fail and since I have not received one this last Friday past, I suppose I should call VICTORY. Slightly deflated about having no response, but you can't win em all...<br /><br />The second thing to report is that I appear to have found the funding to cover the shortfall. Well, I actually didn't find it....it found it's way to me via the ever lovely Fat Lady.<br /><br />Now it was arranged that several of my friends and I were to meet the Fat Lady here in Melbourne. I was pretty excited to be able to squish her and talk face to face but my head was totally blown off when she gives me a hug.....AND A WAD OF CASH!<br /><br />You know those moments when time stops moving and you can't really hear anything with that roaring sound in your ears? That's what happened to me right then and there. So I will give you the full Lulu of The Artistic Licence version. ie - I'm making most of this up.<br /><br />The Lovely One read my blog post about these stupid billing terms. She immediately thought to herself "fuck this*, I'm getting on the phone to Santa**".<br /><br />She called the North Pole direct but Santa was busy attending to the reindeer uprising in the stable (more pay better conditions, you know the drill) so she poured out the story to the North Pole receptionist who was horrified - having an autistic young elf herself and passed the word around....something something Facebook, something something Secret Group....something something SHAZAAM and The Lovely One is handing some money to Lulu to pay for the outstanding amount so she doesn't have to risk incurring fiendish debts at the hands of fiends.<br /><br /><br />*The Lovely One would never say Fuck.<br />** The Lovely One doesn't do Xmas or believe in Santa.<br /><br />So there you go - a little Christmas cheer at the end of a very long year for Lulu Unperfect.<br /><br />Thank you so much to The Lovely One and thank you to all her elves, <br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GURQ-rMf9uyDI_yKCNW8ziFd2gsTouxD9WOZhDbd3bT5OwwsI7YPvwp210hhjOwzRi2GpZ73Oo0vwLbBUYGq5iFLmnbAtQ1SSB2Hiv0QaWvd1lVz3Js17g5zPfuciA2pkrVYP2C64fDX/s1600/elves.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GURQ-rMf9uyDI_yKCNW8ziFd2gsTouxD9WOZhDbd3bT5OwwsI7YPvwp210hhjOwzRi2GpZ73Oo0vwLbBUYGq5iFLmnbAtQ1SSB2Hiv0QaWvd1lVz3Js17g5zPfuciA2pkrVYP2C64fDX/s200/elves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548604565623859122" /></a><br /><br />unicorns, dryads and<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGbyE2z4rY0Sk6wqxkmh11HS8slBE7HzI3mDXfwgaIDfBNMfN-ZBlCXmYcO8bJ1gFqfK_6yZ93bAMGq9ArflzewhF55muDVSfbuHtdkMg0BHXrmHyK3eQmTuoJeHsD3UPrn0335Zjedakm/s1600/maenad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGbyE2z4rY0Sk6wqxkmh11HS8slBE7HzI3mDXfwgaIDfBNMfN-ZBlCXmYcO8bJ1gFqfK_6yZ93bAMGq9ArflzewhF55muDVSfbuHtdkMg0BHXrmHyK3eQmTuoJeHsD3UPrn0335Zjedakm/s200/maenad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548604894032618610" /></a> <br /><br />maenads who made it possible. I luffs you wevvy wevvy much.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-85633329358493788712010-12-08T07:39:00.002+11:002010-12-10T07:03:54.064+11:00Why I avoid the yearly Fat Man photos....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaO136Jk-rJrGQOr5OgE4n0YOB50j7C83oCXUAaI7pcrW8W6DGsVW-JlT2Hl107SRygIh0Cl_D2PLjLlRoNEQVKBujMtmJTBXJCCN2SSe4dWc_bD-14RSI35mFlrFnL7qgjT1WajCuxvQ/s1600/santas+little+goths.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaO136Jk-rJrGQOr5OgE4n0YOB50j7C83oCXUAaI7pcrW8W6DGsVW-JlT2Hl107SRygIh0Cl_D2PLjLlRoNEQVKBujMtmJTBXJCCN2SSe4dWc_bD-14RSI35mFlrFnL7qgjT1WajCuxvQ/s400/santas+little+goths.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547517173057116434" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Well first off I can't be arsed waiting in the long lines.<br /><br />Second, I can't be arsed explaining why there is a Santa on every corner.<br /><br />Third, I KNOW it's not Santa and I get weird about telling the kids to sit on a strangers lap.<br /><br />Fourth, like 90% of children, mine are petrified of Shopping Centre Santa. <br /><br />Except last year. We had a Shopping Centre Santa experience of sorts and it was enough to put me off till I'm 103. It was quiet at the shops (no idea why) and Santa was sitting in his chair looking kinda lonely. After several minutes of observation both Betty and Cyclone decided it was safe to approach.<br /><br />Things went well, I didn't want photos but we were allowed to speak to The Fat Man. The Cyclone had a lovely if tentative conversation about trains whilst Betty hid behind my legs. After awhile Santa brings out his bag of tricks which I could see was full of lollies. Betty inches closer. I somehow got a little Christmas spirit when I saw 2 pairs of eyes starting to glow. Cyclone was actually talking to someone he didn't know, Betty shuffled a little closer again when the conversation turned to dolls.<br /><br />THEN IT HAPPENED.<br /><br />Santa asked if the children would like a sweet. They nodded. Santa puts his hand into the bag and brings it out closed.<br /><br />"Guess which colour sweet is in my hand, son".<br /><br />Ooooh SHIT. Inside my head I am screaming "YOU STUPID JOLLY BASTARD, HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT PORTALS TO HELL YOU HAVE JUST UNLOCKED? IF HE GUESSES WRONG HIS SCREAMS WILL SHATTER GLASS AND HE MAY WELL KICK YOU IN THE SHINS, SAINT NICK OR NO!"<br /><br />I watched the face of the Cyclone...he was shifting from foot to foot and I could see the panic rising in his face. He had a one in 6 chance of getting this right. I don't like those odds and either do Aspies. Santa was oblivious.<br /><br /><br />Ummm.......green?, guesses Cyclone. My panic lessened only slightly when he didn't say blue (his fave) because I knew there were no blue sweets in there.<br /><br />Slowly the Fat Man uncurled his fist and there it was<br /><br /><br />GREEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Smiles all around, Cyclone couldn't stop talking about it for days and I needed a stiff eggnog when I got home to calm my rattled nerves.<br /><br />I think I'll wait until they are teens, in which case it's most likely the above photo will look familiar, if their older sister is anything to go by....<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Thanks to Awkward Family Photos for the pic</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF3Lz03iRxWfMt6SPP-ZXbICx1fsCLqScMz1MJRCPeTPmgFzJMt6DgzGll07jBDy3xTcUec5Tpko7-qpmkY6Gpctb2ckeGQIkP9exX_uP4ajfsJ5lEiJ5HvMOdQqODXUhDDIEyQqhdjix/s1600/flogyoblog-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF3Lz03iRxWfMt6SPP-ZXbICx1fsCLqScMz1MJRCPeTPmgFzJMt6DgzGll07jBDy3xTcUec5Tpko7-qpmkY6Gpctb2ckeGQIkP9exX_uP4ajfsJ5lEiJ5HvMOdQqODXUhDDIEyQqhdjix/s200/flogyoblog-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548775231310282786" /></a><br /><br />Another random entry for Flog Yo Blog hosting by the nutbag Lori at RRASHAM.....Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-50571607783052598242010-12-06T12:16:00.000+11:002010-12-06T12:17:13.268+11:00Channelling McGuyverOnce again I made the trek to my spiritual home (Bunnings), said a little prayer for a pink tool belt as I crossed the threshold and crossed myself with my tape measure.<br /><br />Directly above me, the Goddess of Budget Home Renovation heard my silent plea, shone her light down from the heavens and said "Unperfect Lulu I cannot grant you a pink tool belt from this house built of testosterone...but I see the sacrifice of your clothing and hair, and the dedication to preserving your fingernails despite your toil - for this I bestow a gift in the paint department"<br /><br />I wandered over with a trolley to lift the massive tin of Floor Sealer from the paint section and noticed the 'mistint' paint shelf. I can't help but have a look there each time I am there - even though I know it will be full of Bile Yellow, Exorcist Vomit Green and revolting shades of brown. Cheap but unusable, even if you are colourblind. Usually. This time LO and BEHOLD there were several mistints in neutral colours. NEUTRAL COLOURS. In all my years of dedication I have never seen such a thing.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAlMESQRiWMXEkxs55MydFlQAwUbNy0RVT8ENSy4nD1iy2W5UpBp439exzGJTidWQehl5IhTIrVjRJMxjuoaHQ0p9IS4BFgRVdi9x6cVNdPF7D2IaUcfrUCIv-47z06eShThOKDbXAuBb/s1600/This+old+House+115.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAlMESQRiWMXEkxs55MydFlQAwUbNy0RVT8ENSy4nD1iy2W5UpBp439exzGJTidWQehl5IhTIrVjRJMxjuoaHQ0p9IS4BFgRVdi9x6cVNdPF7D2IaUcfrUCIv-47z06eShThOKDbXAuBb/s400/This+old+House+115.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546583408206656082" /></a><br /><br />I found - <br />several sample pots of varying shades for 50 cents.<br />4 litres of interior eco paint ($52.90) for $20<br />2 litres of semi-gloss easy coat ($36.28) for $10<br />2 litres of accent super awesome ($55.88) for $15<br />1 litre of pale enamel ($29.09) for $5<br /><br /><br />4 litres of outdoor paint..in WHITE down from $58.90 to $15. Because the tin was dented. I have vague ideas of kicking all the tins I want with steel capped boots but realise I don't need to. I have over $350 of quality paint for $65. Thank you Reno Goddess! <br /><br /><br />Since I am paint McGuyver, I mix the pale mistints in with half a can of ceiling white as a prep coat to cover the foul walls of the PINK room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOTQ5nQblS29YsDLj5Of9dHVUOCxO9iH6fuStVD7tFw3lXpXDmcvNJSb8I3L-Oz18PPzQOQcDKc3yVcjuBO8soo7t595Kn0ksSOMJUlx_N26ZtNz6k0Ycj5xqiIwNj-pwRpVmlo9s_FZ3/s1600/This+old+House+053.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOTQ5nQblS29YsDLj5Of9dHVUOCxO9iH6fuStVD7tFw3lXpXDmcvNJSb8I3L-Oz18PPzQOQcDKc3yVcjuBO8soo7t595Kn0ksSOMJUlx_N26ZtNz6k0Ycj5xqiIwNj-pwRpVmlo9s_FZ3/s400/This+old+House+053.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546805099681798418" /></a><br /><br />It was a pretty gross colour itself but it did the job perfectly.<br /><br />I used the gloss to cover the yukky old doors<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaGWWNrJdPs8eYSomRGewjuHgeyLmM8DmeQi4B8IhNaaE6GUrAe0ugYTwyIaZMfs3bLkpbJpNCVXLWhQ4n1CEGO1Ng1XNQY8FeRqrt2y3ZawARDwvOIwWc5o_WbhLBSQbfXXIUuFJRlk4/s1600/Blog+pics+032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaGWWNrJdPs8eYSomRGewjuHgeyLmM8DmeQi4B8IhNaaE6GUrAe0ugYTwyIaZMfs3bLkpbJpNCVXLWhQ4n1CEGO1Ng1XNQY8FeRqrt2y3ZawARDwvOIwWc5o_WbhLBSQbfXXIUuFJRlk4/s400/Blog+pics+032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547034240352054914" /></a><br /><br />It took days to strip the paint off the old trims, but I'm glad I did because it would have stuck out too much against the rest of the room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-JiORuHIS5itXsgWPS4AlRyGa26HWKt5P6iiKHMYOd9tv1WkfHdGiiMy51XPkq6McqMzRlPqJNqvvKmnLojQFT474PQwv50SSecFYJhXJla2uoQBt8PK96WBdwdTB3Mj5VCtdC7Sz8Q4/s1600/This+old+House+120.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-JiORuHIS5itXsgWPS4AlRyGa26HWKt5P6iiKHMYOd9tv1WkfHdGiiMy51XPkq6McqMzRlPqJNqvvKmnLojQFT474PQwv50SSecFYJhXJla2uoQBt8PK96WBdwdTB3Mj5VCtdC7Sz8Q4/s400/This+old+House+120.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547040926806658962" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The purple stuff on the edges is masking tape....</span><br /><br /><br />About 10 minutes into painting the doors in the gloss, I noticed how thick the texture was....and how it wasn't coming off my hands with a wet cloth. Then I realised I didn't have any Mineral Turpentine. I don't even think I've used gloss/enamel paint before so it didn't occur to me to buy some.<br /><br /><br />By the time I finished the door my hands were SO STICKY and water made it worse. So I had to drive back to Bunnings for turps with 2 cloths on my hands like a dickhead to protect the steering wheel.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIsw5Nj8Ai3yX9BoC5bUWNbsGU4fzwHa7DclVptMWn-retXOX0tqG3rMXWdG7DMiTYQlenHAuZiVLC70TX2l6oBmhC4vP9SvI-2CRUOZimT5qruKVX3H9XsHO0RldiPKnAjLrSqTXXFC2/s1600/Blog+pics+036.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIsw5Nj8Ai3yX9BoC5bUWNbsGU4fzwHa7DclVptMWn-retXOX0tqG3rMXWdG7DMiTYQlenHAuZiVLC70TX2l6oBmhC4vP9SvI-2CRUOZimT5qruKVX3H9XsHO0RldiPKnAjLrSqTXXFC2/s400/Blog+pics+036.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547065436797643682" /></a>Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-21221987837103808072010-11-29T06:48:00.000+11:002010-11-29T06:48:00.087+11:00Uh-ohYou just KNOW that when renovating an old house that you are going to have 'Uh-oh' moments and in fact several "oh SHIT" moments.<br /><br />Due to the insane 'architecture' of the previous extension to my home - which includes random materials clearly sourced from questionable origin, I was expecting those moments. My bedroom is a good size...but has two doors. In the same wall. Out of the 4 bedroom doors one was an unattractive shade of green, 2 were poo brown and the last half heartedly painted white.<br /><br />The carpet was so threadbare in places and surely reclaimed from an old government building....and it was PEA GREEN.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh930TUJb9QzbjqYeGXnB2EejCUGOWWbNMrTiwzfCQAtD3HEfwxCAsgVeLYZKmxDQByZ3-HF7mcECoJoS1VwDI6VDwC-dZVR9dmVPEHIAnVmHUTZEEuNJWVE0lI6K1XO2iPuLePbUPpIkUM/s1600/This+old+House+010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh930TUJb9QzbjqYeGXnB2EejCUGOWWbNMrTiwzfCQAtD3HEfwxCAsgVeLYZKmxDQByZ3-HF7mcECoJoS1VwDI6VDwC-dZVR9dmVPEHIAnVmHUTZEEuNJWVE0lI6K1XO2iPuLePbUPpIkUM/s400/This+old+House+010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544556190985827570" /></a><br /><br />You can catch a bit of the carpet in the corner here. That's Cyclone pulling out staples with the pliers. Let's not talk about the horrific pink on the walls just yet *vomit.<br /><br />So I pull up the carpet in Betty Boo's old room....and here is the uh-oh moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4oSq97_lL0SdTMPctFO0R1xDoyLAwbzU_vAKbB9Lmyb2t2Cwa9meHEpBCYpbKM34xxddNfhmJaVZB69c_BoVuzexveLW_lKgZWAlyWBOBDI86Jqfx2PXf6GTvVGu0Y9yqBmp6OX12xGp/s1600/Blog+pics+032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4oSq97_lL0SdTMPctFO0R1xDoyLAwbzU_vAKbB9Lmyb2t2Cwa9meHEpBCYpbKM34xxddNfhmJaVZB69c_BoVuzexveLW_lKgZWAlyWBOBDI86Jqfx2PXf6GTvVGu0Y9yqBmp6OX12xGp/s400/Blog+pics+032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544558653076132738" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The lighter parts are rotted board and it may be possible put your foot through it</span><br /><br />How could I forget the first winter after we moved in when we discovered every downpipe was completely blocked by 20 years of leaves? Rain ran down the walls in both kids rooms and clearly soaked the carpet in the corner. We fixed it the next week, and we didn't have a problem again. Till now.<br /><br /><br />The next one was an "Oh SHIT" moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbAobjPjMaFmR_Rfy5EXRSqZtcMZQ5xGKALCOwNehXduIgR1MjoOKbqQwx7O-tBxbvtWcguede4quVWzLbHq458EvqMAOky0DF9dM7jpy-VG9K_KQBiYyPzSrf4jZC7PnHiItE7SgYsk3/s1600/This+old+House+052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbAobjPjMaFmR_Rfy5EXRSqZtcMZQ5xGKALCOwNehXduIgR1MjoOKbqQwx7O-tBxbvtWcguede4quVWzLbHq458EvqMAOky0DF9dM7jpy-VG9K_KQBiYyPzSrf4jZC7PnHiItE7SgYsk3/s400/This+old+House+052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544562990773906034" /></a><br /><br />More water damage, but this is worse because it's floorboards and because that wall backs onto the bathroom...so hell knows what I'm going to uncover when I start on that!<br /><br />FIXIN' TIME<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJlrqXYrdceF-6H6usBls0y-A-s8IJ-SiACYe1DMAi7fAs5VD70k2ouzFdynPSwvBuXfNfYK7mgz7Dv2ktFflpXknqB-ttvN12PdpKoMAJMzIybucjlqci-xeC4x5z0yVnMp_USGRFIFS/s1600/Blog+pics+041.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJlrqXYrdceF-6H6usBls0y-A-s8IJ-SiACYe1DMAi7fAs5VD70k2ouzFdynPSwvBuXfNfYK7mgz7Dv2ktFflpXknqB-ttvN12PdpKoMAJMzIybucjlqci-xeC4x5z0yVnMp_USGRFIFS/s400/Blog+pics+041.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544566892809327090" /></a><br /><br />Cut out the damage<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkLrav3b1afWwpR6EXWLwkL6gIW8wnIwMEXf9vGM6731CS-XG1VaWeCai00IfSY-Dwq00Mfy3NylIfjRsgjV5LGXeKKxuO5tdfjGbaOtZ2kWZ0d4WsIWbICL0QG5cHTSePKRhdhgjzRW7/s1600/Blog+pics+042.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkLrav3b1afWwpR6EXWLwkL6gIW8wnIwMEXf9vGM6731CS-XG1VaWeCai00IfSY-Dwq00Mfy3NylIfjRsgjV5LGXeKKxuO5tdfjGbaOtZ2kWZ0d4WsIWbICL0QG5cHTSePKRhdhgjzRW7/s400/Blog+pics+042.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544567817838142738" /></a><br /><br />Nail down a new section of yellowtongue floorboard at the cost of $19.99<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiQgIjGwcfG9tC68-gKlTwki6preH3GicnEECHLx7glwr4sSNPlQzjbJtIi1BkSZdz0yMIAcbtG1zUc0ofjxcmrSEOOoUnWZj-IWqWmWGMZoZSiJrq1Ok4haMmxWVuYX-hUcGUGoAQNAN/s1600/This+old+House+118.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiQgIjGwcfG9tC68-gKlTwki6preH3GicnEECHLx7glwr4sSNPlQzjbJtIi1BkSZdz0yMIAcbtG1zUc0ofjxcmrSEOOoUnWZj-IWqWmWGMZoZSiJrq1Ok4haMmxWVuYX-hUcGUGoAQNAN/s400/This+old+House+118.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544569721077389378" /></a><br /><br />and hope the children continue with their broom obsession because it's really coming in handy.<br /><br />TA DAH!Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-24210180962191469172010-11-26T12:59:00.003+11:002010-11-26T13:10:19.661+11:00$25 DAILY late fee? I don't think so...Got a bill in the mail today - URggh, right?<br /><br />It's from Cyclones Occupational Therapist. It seems our Early Intervention Funding well has run dry very suddenly, so I need to pay the difference of the his last session.<br /><br />It's not going to happen very quickly, it's right before Xmas and I'm scurrying around trying to find a little extra funding to help us through till the end of the year. I want to pay it, this OT was doing some good work with Cyclone and was a wonderful source of support to me.<br /><br />But then I got this - <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_VKvoNXMaXKJzBdWF74wltEYDp8CBMjbJvWQ99O9S9QgHVJ0BzPsShrawpFc64MHgenpeXY2G7UNuflqPOBN9d37E267GbrYxpvX3KO_jKduV6P5ZYdzRFWcHGcrzNhiemjR7VKnyhN8/s1600/The+OT+Bill.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_VKvoNXMaXKJzBdWF74wltEYDp8CBMjbJvWQ99O9S9QgHVJ0BzPsShrawpFc64MHgenpeXY2G7UNuflqPOBN9d37E267GbrYxpvX3KO_jKduV6P5ZYdzRFWcHGcrzNhiemjR7VKnyhN8/s400/The+OT+Bill.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543673194222253426" /></a><br /><br />In case you can't read it, the invoice must be settled in 7 days and "A $25 later fee will apply everyday that payment is outstanding."<br /><br />Are you fucking serious? Even the Big 4 Banks can't get away with that sort of late fee. <br /><br />Here is my response<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Dear XXXX,<br /><br />I have received your invoice dated 25/11/2010. As you may be aware our Early Intervention Funding has run out unexpectedly. I am in the process of sourcing further funding to make up this shortfall and will endeavour to pay the outstanding amount as soon as possible. I do consider this a priority.<br /><br />However - Jesus will descend from the Kingdom of Heaven and play centre-half back for Jerusalam before I will accept a $25 PER DAY late fee.<br />Please do not expect that this will be included in the settlement of this invoice.<br /><br />Cheers,</span><br /></span><br /><br /><br />Pfft - the dickheads.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-24264848360718997652010-11-23T06:54:00.000+11:002010-11-23T06:54:00.268+11:00The State of my CAR!!!Bloody hell.<br /><br />I think shit breeds in there, I can't control it - but oh how I try...<br /><br />Why my children need to take off their clothes in the car is beyond me. Betty is the worst because she cannot keep her shoes on. Even when she is freshly dressed in the morning she takes her shoes and socks off as soon as I put her harness on.<br /><br />I once found 6 pairs of shoes and eleventy-four random socks.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilydnA8LC-fMgw0rE9Q-_a2IjvmEJ0Cka_JQXOBkKr69L4S4z8C4ZVqSaFdtRiw7qDe0485YXOg_nJsb_KtA1RH-yc7Dr_vIY2pGUcDL1S_iV0n3XmDQyr3jyGKR-QElIX6KjG3aRI9_ao/s1600/This+old+House+084.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilydnA8LC-fMgw0rE9Q-_a2IjvmEJ0Cka_JQXOBkKr69L4S4z8C4ZVqSaFdtRiw7qDe0485YXOg_nJsb_KtA1RH-yc7Dr_vIY2pGUcDL1S_iV0n3XmDQyr3jyGKR-QElIX6KjG3aRI9_ao/s400/This+old+House+084.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542249299042725154" /></a><br /><br />I KNOW PEOPLE - I should get everyone to take their crap out of the car each day when we get home, and I try but it never works.<br /><br />Cyclone leaps out of the car before it even stops in the driveway and is away on his bike, Betty follows soon after to chase the Fluffy Mutt who is joyfully tearing after Cyclone and I'm usually bolting straight into the house for a wee I've been holding onto for hours because I'm scared of public toilets.<br /><br />I have the utterly brilliant idea that leaving the car doors open will remind me to go back and drag all the crap out. Which would be great if I parked the car in the bloody lounge room.<br /><br />So, clean car people PLEASE tell me how you maintain it. Both sides of the van have large sliding doors so it's particularly embarrassing showing the world what a messy tart I am every kinder and school drop off.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-38000857142174500442010-11-20T11:41:00.003+11:002010-11-20T11:41:47.652+11:00Following on from Ocsober...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzBoDbd2DQ41pkXZwdEAOxW7SEC8yabN8NeI_zCb3o9I1yUNXk80VcFwrSFTZBIIBznDP6F9jQPCWPfozNfKTRuQ_5J4Y6x4SlvcRqxnVE5XXXO3QbCjG7o8RMzRVABbSFUn63RsIgqhk/s1600/alcohol1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzBoDbd2DQ41pkXZwdEAOxW7SEC8yabN8NeI_zCb3o9I1yUNXk80VcFwrSFTZBIIBznDP6F9jQPCWPfozNfKTRuQ_5J4Y6x4SlvcRqxnVE5XXXO3QbCjG7o8RMzRVABbSFUn63RsIgqhk/s400/alcohol1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541380798766507730" /></a><br /><br /><br />I've done a few posts on my views of drinking - <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://lulu-unperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/parenting-teens-should-you-let-them.html">HERE</a></span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="httphttp://lulu-unperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/teenagers-and-alcohol.html://">HERE</a></span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="hhttp://lulu-unperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/08/teen-queen-learns.htmlttp://">HERE</a></span><br />including how I have handled my teen daughter and the alcohol factor.<br /><br />I've had lots of conversations with lots of people about drinking. Considering my obvious love of a drop or 5 I think people can be rather surprised at the fact I simply refused to let my daughter drink until she was 18.<br /><br /><br />Parental influence shapes a childs attitude to drinking. From every side of every argument - behind it all is your experience as a child. Ummm, says me - but anyway.<br /><br />My experience.<br /><br />My parents are drinkers. My family are big drinkers. Every event we have (maybe twice a year) alcohol is flowing freely. We have a wonderful time, we laugh, we sing, we dance. My family have run pubs and red wine is in my veins. <br /><br />But from that came my Alcohol Education. It was/is unspoken. You EARN your place in the world as an adult. You learn to hold your drink. This doesn't mean jam as much as you can down your throat and manage to keep standing. It means knowing your limit. Everyone has different limits. I would DIE rather than be seen stumbling in front of my family. <br /><br />From my family I learnt respect for alcohol and what it can do. Just because it was everywhere didn't mean it was for everyone. A good night at the pub is just as much about being a good host and customer service as anything. Most of us have either managed a pub or worked behind the bar. We have seen it all sober, the good and the bad.<br /><br />My parents had a cocktail after work and a beer after working in the garden. Yes - alcohol was always around and I only ever saw it being consumed responsibly (except when dad had one too many and fell in the pool whilst he was cleaning it. Mums pursed lips was a sign it was NOT alright *grin)<br /><br />Not everyone has my experience, I have friends with parents that abused it terribly and won't touch a drop. That grew up under the influence of alcohol in the worst possible way. I have met teens that go to groups like Alateen because they are afraid they won't be able to stop like their mum or dad, even though they haven't even started.<br /><br />Alcohol abuse costs this country millions a year in damages. It has the power to <br />ruin families and break hearts as well as bodies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeH4a6jsm_nFsKVqhQVPovpv6w0Cl82c-chvl_tB53rklCjgoeb1dlMAkElF9xhx5oh2w2RkCl9yckqOJ6w4oq52u0G_HEgIUP73lAUZLT7opx8GQVdN-v-_18I_qjR2huGruK_kxaP8Ps/s1600/drinking.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeH4a6jsm_nFsKVqhQVPovpv6w0Cl82c-chvl_tB53rklCjgoeb1dlMAkElF9xhx5oh2w2RkCl9yckqOJ6w4oq52u0G_HEgIUP73lAUZLT7opx8GQVdN-v-_18I_qjR2huGruK_kxaP8Ps/s400/drinking.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541380979532092178" /></a><br /><br /><br />Your children are watching...what do you do to ensure their education? Because you know it doesn't start when they are teens don't you?Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-52393636865718505002010-11-20T11:41:00.001+11:002010-11-20T11:41:25.092+11:00Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-25412571150492842352010-11-16T21:22:00.005+11:002010-11-16T23:36:03.216+11:00If these walls could talk.I just thought I'd make you aware of the fact I am going to bore you all silly with pics of my Budget Home Renovation.<br /><br />I'm spending every spare moment at the house. Which really is lots of 2 hour blocks so not much time to get an entire house done inside and out. Truthfully - this is supposed to be my funnest time, but it's not. I am trapped by a budget that is minute, I don't have enough time to really chase down the things I want and I worry it's going to look weird and disjointed.<br /><br />But I soldier on like a bloody trojan because the only way I'm going to get this done is to <span style="font-style:italic;">actually get it done</span>.<br /><br />I'm alone, the space is huge and I feel overwhelmed by the pain and sorrow infused into the walls I'm washing down. The long sleepless years, the fear of what the future held for Cyclone, the worries of how I was to keep everything together whilst the house and my family was falling apart.<br /><br /><br />So what do you do?<br /><br /><br />Ya call in your buddies! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDwofNsBuxBa0FNYOwGdpmbGjpYfhvkdF2Lr1CtCCOSMXPPoBW6SRF8xizqAHnqe7p9K_I_hyphenhyphenNnuEV35gIL1DhZlH0d7zvoB3DRahtQSRM3bcxwwqyi3iIalM0RF4b6sjXZYnuABFtXid1/s1600/This+old+House+057.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDwofNsBuxBa0FNYOwGdpmbGjpYfhvkdF2Lr1CtCCOSMXPPoBW6SRF8xizqAHnqe7p9K_I_hyphenhyphenNnuEV35gIL1DhZlH0d7zvoB3DRahtQSRM3bcxwwqyi3iIalM0RF4b6sjXZYnuABFtXid1/s400/This+old+House+057.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540110206213233938" /></a><br /><br />Some are good with powertools<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXRuy2k3GAA372R-Fxp8n1G7JF4Q3T7Tqk-OHpNLq8IHI4Kf7mQBq3Je3qQfu6rNpQdb1iNO67L6DxzpaMunwerMWneUkUD5CQtJCDCEnNf9DzHktK6E-DGPbhl12o9wOvaHe78PJUHSc/s1600/This+old+House+061.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXRuy2k3GAA372R-Fxp8n1G7JF4Q3T7Tqk-OHpNLq8IHI4Kf7mQBq3Je3qQfu6rNpQdb1iNO67L6DxzpaMunwerMWneUkUD5CQtJCDCEnNf9DzHktK6E-DGPbhl12o9wOvaHe78PJUHSc/s400/This+old+House+061.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540110993912720178" /></a><br /><br /><br />Some aren't but rock up with pizza and willingness to give anything a go<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyXFGXeBn-IA4mpFlGZOa94D8XoN8ZJd33L3s4mmGIXBPP_-3OfK3WNEN085xk52ohiEpk1ju6c7xiqaZJvfImHW707Y9foppBbJ0HbyW-pLAeTJHP3wcZcYjG9r4E1m2LAjaflAlKMHd/s1600/This+old+House+049.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyXFGXeBn-IA4mpFlGZOa94D8XoN8ZJd33L3s4mmGIXBPP_-3OfK3WNEN085xk52ohiEpk1ju6c7xiqaZJvfImHW707Y9foppBbJ0HbyW-pLAeTJHP3wcZcYjG9r4E1m2LAjaflAlKMHd/s400/This+old+House+049.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540112811572774370" /></a><br /><br />and some just come to keep me company and share a cup of tea, and sweet times with their little boys who thrive amongst all the noise.<br /><br /><br />And day by day, as the laughs get louder, pizza consumed, the old replaced with the new - the pain and sorrow washed away and replaced with joy and optimism.<br /><br />I am rebuilding my house, my family home the place I've raised my babies and I'm also rebuilding my spirit.<br /><br />Wax On, Wax Off.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-18727873998195774392010-11-13T21:51:00.012+11:002010-11-15T13:53:21.536+11:00Henna hair versus Chemical DyeAlrighty, I have done both and can now give you the proper lowdown.<br /><br />I have the attention span of a gnat and so does my hair. I get bored with it easily and luckily my tresses can take plenty of punishment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cIIdpUzcNZUAYOu3Y_RBlDWFDdIyQ5ENa-8IzOUs1h7TvV4Oocpx75nYrN3vyn81KvcvsGI7Rt4X8N0TY845vYQhGj9fyu2-YGMCr0ZX3I3-cxjvpg9PCix9aZSZhBMV2RF6ywdctr8T/s1600/long+brown+hair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cIIdpUzcNZUAYOu3Y_RBlDWFDdIyQ5ENa-8IzOUs1h7TvV4Oocpx75nYrN3vyn81KvcvsGI7Rt4X8N0TY845vYQhGj9fyu2-YGMCr0ZX3I3-cxjvpg9PCix9aZSZhBMV2RF6ywdctr8T/s400/long+brown+hair.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538986348075539586" /></a><br /><br />I go from this<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4mb60r__f0IhfUsIlSw2S2x63gx_sMii1EKRR7mCiOHGAQcIWVJ7Mah-hWMJKP7yDgkI4GlEFXDXkF1aC21QMb_a04GH_5V39-dfwskjwWxT2hGkR_ylSbsSjBY2t4dV9p9t16yeD-XC/s1600/blond+hair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4mb60r__f0IhfUsIlSw2S2x63gx_sMii1EKRR7mCiOHGAQcIWVJ7Mah-hWMJKP7yDgkI4GlEFXDXkF1aC21QMb_a04GH_5V39-dfwskjwWxT2hGkR_ylSbsSjBY2t4dV9p9t16yeD-XC/s400/blond+hair.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538989288623882050" /></a><br /><br />To this<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtcGgrhwb8BYCXRVA-a-jnu56h6ahuJFFb3VVXd479WMzu9tQKJ0gEClNbuOed8Eor5dRR8dA7yGqKDeqLBb3CwLuizPFqKZ6ZkYSPHwrqzgJ1hhV8ZbprZydiv5_CoGv0knwjMGNk4k_/s1600/growing+out+the+blonde.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtcGgrhwb8BYCXRVA-a-jnu56h6ahuJFFb3VVXd479WMzu9tQKJ0gEClNbuOed8Eor5dRR8dA7yGqKDeqLBb3CwLuizPFqKZ6ZkYSPHwrqzgJ1hhV8ZbprZydiv5_CoGv0knwjMGNk4k_/s400/growing+out+the+blonde.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538991598081341090" /></a><br /><br />To somehow finding the patience to grow it all out again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgHkBgyRbnJPwoShyyqpT22ytR1hP-0aAce93nlh_CuaDesZ390Jb6suD80s9DibqigyRVuk-YUvg8gYrqHowyU1RBeLwa1ObZ48tB7dcrSshqf0rd32WM_UkmF1FY42gzIp2P9-A87JQ/s1600/blond+foils.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgHkBgyRbnJPwoShyyqpT22ytR1hP-0aAce93nlh_CuaDesZ390Jb6suD80s9DibqigyRVuk-YUvg8gYrqHowyU1RBeLwa1ObZ48tB7dcrSshqf0rd32WM_UkmF1FY42gzIp2P9-A87JQ/s400/blond+foils.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539155278553926482" /></a><br /><br /><br />So after this do was looking a bit tired I thought I might try Henna instead of chemicals. Henna is a natural plant derived dye used for centuries and comes in varying colours. I bought some Brown Henna from the health food shop and after crusing Henna Forums, decided to make my own concoction based on that information.<br /><br />I mixed the henna with black tea, paprika and some lavender water I made up myself (steep lavender in hot water) for conditioning purposes. I heard it was very very messy and was also warned about the smell. I mixed it up to a fairly thick paste but had to thin it out to get it through my hair - which is quite long now.<br /><br />I didn't find it any messier than a home dye but it was certainly harder to apply on your own. It has a very grainy texture and it felt a little heavy on my head. I just slapped it on and wandered around the house smelling like HORSE POO for a few hours. I recommend doing this in the backyard with a friend. <br /><br />It took many, many rinses to get it all out in the shower, lots of conditioner and grumbling on my behalf. The next morning I couldn't be sure if it made much difference but WHOA did my hair feel great! Thick, healthy and heavy. <span style="font-weight:bold;">I've never had such glossy hair in my life.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWiOu2tzLTM7LIOWRcKW5GLyNqG3uqREQK55hl7vxBRdvhXWhoOb7os8akuVqI9uiKeji0PpMJJMu5XW5WkJi7u7M2-g1F09CHFPVSQ8iyuXnjsphpC61J-VQdksE6ayOULppaIKVvW3N/s1600/MCC2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 185px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWiOu2tzLTM7LIOWRcKW5GLyNqG3uqREQK55hl7vxBRdvhXWhoOb7os8akuVqI9uiKeji0PpMJJMu5XW5WkJi7u7M2-g1F09CHFPVSQ8iyuXnjsphpC61J-VQdksE6ayOULppaIKVvW3N/s400/MCC2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539165445349633522" /></a><br /><br />This pic was taken about 5 weeks after. The colour seemed to darken over a couple of days so I was very pleased with the result. The colour fades gradually - you don't end up with obvious roots, just an all over softening of the colour. My hair felt great the entire time.<br /><br /><br />Last night I used a home chemical dye. I couldn't get to the health shop and the box was on sale at the supermarket so I grabbed it. At the very least I thought to myself it will be a quicker process and easier to wash out. And it was on sale.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmP3171Os5YaXoHh_yRoZTocz86cwJ8rk0opMnb9iClo9wiaF-IPbuFpgniX2ee2A4_GbyXL15v5rYxAT4nUXYbPuPsbQO1aryr5hc-XCY8RzWrK_0dJYo99t5IyM8xUiYWLNHXCCSrqP/s1600/This+old+House+078.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmP3171Os5YaXoHh_yRoZTocz86cwJ8rk0opMnb9iClo9wiaF-IPbuFpgniX2ee2A4_GbyXL15v5rYxAT4nUXYbPuPsbQO1aryr5hc-XCY8RzWrK_0dJYo99t5IyM8xUiYWLNHXCCSrqP/s400/This+old+House+078.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539600061583338114" /></a><br /><br />Yes it was a bit easier but I was very put off by the wastage of a single use foam pump! I didn't take much notice of anything other than the colour and price of the box. I certainly wouldn't have bought it otherwise. <br /><br />So I like the colour and my hair feels nice<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-siFk3vnIhd9wktV8e2YUj7lwRDrgEsD75fwvtNFwdvy2td7SvTCr2jAawGOOGKGM_n6aENjRTSbf4ZMsy8rEtSZc9w7kyiPBejk2IQJomK4uufsbSm-_T6n1HbuLEhmxHUev9D36slH/s1600/Blog+pics.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-siFk3vnIhd9wktV8e2YUj7lwRDrgEsD75fwvtNFwdvy2td7SvTCr2jAawGOOGKGM_n6aENjRTSbf4ZMsy8rEtSZc9w7kyiPBejk2IQJomK4uufsbSm-_T6n1HbuLEhmxHUev9D36slH/s400/Blog+pics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539602365731875954" /></a><br /><br />But I'm never using the chemicals again. I forgot how much it damages my scalp and leaves it sore. Whilst it does feel silky it also feels fragile and thin, not full and lustrous like it did with the henna. The packaging and waste is totally ridiculous with home hair dyes so it does more than damage to my skin and hair.<br /><br />Henna all the way from now. I urge you all to give it a go! Yes it's messy and smells but it's worth it!<br /><br />Cheers,Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-80219654969663675452010-11-06T20:28:00.012+11:002010-11-08T09:06:03.876+11:00Sanding Floorboards is good for your brain...Whoa - it feels like I've been away for months.<br /><br />I've sat down to post...but then got all meh about it.<br />Then I got Foxtel and had to catch up on months of complete TRASH tv.<br />Then Cyclone restarted school and it's been a very successful venture and therefore I've had more time to do other things.<br /><br />These other things have made me particularly tired and nearly unable to think which has been quite a lovely holiday from a head jammed full of a million different thoughts shooting in 500 different directions.<br /><br />It's all been very Wax On, Wax Off and good for the soul, and my house is benefiting too.<br /><br />Due to budget restrictions (who am I kidding - budget STRANGLEHOLD), I've had to do the floors of the house myself.<br /><br />50 years of dirt - <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvjvub_trUOySrfQfAPNN7K6aLS3FmRG-JSGQd1bkUXAf0_9DvSBhIaz1T1b-VMVy0ua36T_4syzBuLzoyte9nAL_kxGtrg11w6QmoTR3d6dRq2JA3yV0s75DB1z-RPbSrqnxDMhOFCDI/s1600/This+old+House+024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvjvub_trUOySrfQfAPNN7K6aLS3FmRG-JSGQd1bkUXAf0_9DvSBhIaz1T1b-VMVy0ua36T_4syzBuLzoyte9nAL_kxGtrg11w6QmoTR3d6dRq2JA3yV0s75DB1z-RPbSrqnxDMhOFCDI/s400/This+old+House+024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536916060333078354" /></a><br /><br />I pulled up the carpet in a rampage when Betty Boo started crawling. We had three dogs at the time and carpet is just ick. I left the boards bare for 2 years but it was still cleaner than carpet.<br /><br /><br />This is the remnants of old lino glued fast to the timber. I hope it's not a problem to rip off - I can always tile over it I suppose.<br /> <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI5bwean3LiRxAORYj9xV5aOdyHZd7E7NfO-w_jfAwroP3IQm1BcHIwq8tGLJWtSLLTpq9NVEuYjwUQOGWJeg0V7CH8IWI3Z_4M_zZfosnd-p4Z0O2xouLQe03fPbgmJR81q5uX6IU7aQ/s1600/This+old+House+021.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI5bwean3LiRxAORYj9xV5aOdyHZd7E7NfO-w_jfAwroP3IQm1BcHIwq8tGLJWtSLLTpq9NVEuYjwUQOGWJeg0V7CH8IWI3Z_4M_zZfosnd-p4Z0O2xouLQe03fPbgmJR81q5uX6IU7aQ/s400/This+old+House+021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536917731150075938" /></a><br /><br /><br />With all the carpet up and staples pulled out of the floor it's time to punch all the nails into the floor. All of them! If you don't you will rip the nailhead off when sanding (not good) and rip the sandpaper to shreds.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteNXSvnPDX9UlZEdEj4XLl68rswe8Pmc6kW8k0S59NBl2EcXOuA9_We-AxhzMQWijBvWZr7GEBpAe0HUrTEA8tom06xdaYhdbon5bnzzMU83PYSxVQd51k3GRb87euP7X_KIRkGm8WciP/s1600/This+old+House+013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiteNXSvnPDX9UlZEdEj4XLl68rswe8Pmc6kW8k0S59NBl2EcXOuA9_We-AxhzMQWijBvWZr7GEBpAe0HUrTEA8tom06xdaYhdbon5bnzzMU83PYSxVQd51k3GRb87euP7X_KIRkGm8WciP/s400/This+old+House+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536918719964273522" /></a><br /><br />You can see the sanding machine ready to go in the before shot.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGjMyyRh7D8Qa2LaWZfYVPX4cxL31_cy2z-6nFM9ut_SYpidTQwJCT4L8ZoOESjNncG7oZ6r2827ST2K_hTDCoF-CNdlKe5hKsKgTs_qTtPGryB8fSyFJJWzbwBZkzp_QxWbjGjV5Qff0/s1600/This+old+House+020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGjMyyRh7D8Qa2LaWZfYVPX4cxL31_cy2z-6nFM9ut_SYpidTQwJCT4L8ZoOESjNncG7oZ6r2827ST2K_hTDCoF-CNdlKe5hKsKgTs_qTtPGryB8fSyFJJWzbwBZkzp_QxWbjGjV5Qff0/s400/This+old+House+020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536923387792253074" /></a><br /><br /><br />More before<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYrB2dIHzlAolqZ4luT67Q1skKNcPMV8J7elCJgySG_274zC0OY5lZcIZKutUr7VsR_YgcdL8RE3_iuX52036CH9XvL6btF7RiAVgbKritbfelr8RKf4oz6VIIWrkwWZDyWP7-cdEDQxn/s1600/This+old+House+023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYrB2dIHzlAolqZ4luT67Q1skKNcPMV8J7elCJgySG_274zC0OY5lZcIZKutUr7VsR_YgcdL8RE3_iuX52036CH9XvL6btF7RiAVgbKritbfelr8RKf4oz6VIIWrkwWZDyWP7-cdEDQxn/s400/This+old+House+023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536924461281533314" /></a><br /><br />Half done!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRVTXT_LqWPAYGmxQlWgjkFpbJJu2_VyQkOt_OCZRqf39M_BeaFWCqQ1rUhuvFLCdNiIl8JtHq7MGcTyigAjilnQ04nMQ6n-40gli2t4U-y5C8ImcnRLoqfpV2rMPwhw-NEZkkBdi75xF/s1600/This+old+House+035.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRVTXT_LqWPAYGmxQlWgjkFpbJJu2_VyQkOt_OCZRqf39M_BeaFWCqQ1rUhuvFLCdNiIl8JtHq7MGcTyigAjilnQ04nMQ6n-40gli2t4U-y5C8ImcnRLoqfpV2rMPwhw-NEZkkBdi75xF/s400/This+old+House+035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536926999851477554" /></a><br /><br />DONE!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcFt4aCHFsnxn_svkqnMbC3HAAM_F-TMA7Y02sO61RUMa7gIXkqMpym0YEK2U-edsPkdZdrORctdMsCoZLzONftUdqGO3oD5RhuNAgCNDd0Gua49qTzpf0sGYWQSBlsB-vLeqZ9fPfyRbH/s1600/This+old+House+045.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcFt4aCHFsnxn_svkqnMbC3HAAM_F-TMA7Y02sO61RUMa7gIXkqMpym0YEK2U-edsPkdZdrORctdMsCoZLzONftUdqGO3oD5RhuNAgCNDd0Gua49qTzpf0sGYWQSBlsB-vLeqZ9fPfyRbH/s400/This+old+House+045.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536929581692712994" /></a><br /><br />New carpet - over $2500<br />Do it yourself sand and polish $450<br /><br />It's loud and dusty and will take an entire weekend but I'm thrilled with the results. The sander isn't too hard to handle once you get the hang of it and I'm pleased to report no holes in the timber.<br /><br />Here's a gratuitous sexy powertool pic....sorry that's as sexy as it's gonna get with a floor sander.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwToCKIEQOZBqsYlOyO7Se_NvoA-MvxLo70PdTdfymOSGIgQSF5M6Qu5Ld1d9A5S_yyt6QPSeWXRusCDrIpqT5HWOWBftsKbZKymsMlWCs-SUdSoK5AoZOukforJ_DW9UouhUjkNQW4PfH/s1600/This+old+House+031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwToCKIEQOZBqsYlOyO7Se_NvoA-MvxLo70PdTdfymOSGIgQSF5M6Qu5Ld1d9A5S_yyt6QPSeWXRusCDrIpqT5HWOWBftsKbZKymsMlWCs-SUdSoK5AoZOukforJ_DW9UouhUjkNQW4PfH/s400/This+old+House+031.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536931466952168338" /></a>Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-4651932341988962052010-10-16T23:09:00.002+11:002010-10-16T23:48:33.831+11:00I gots a microphone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGt3MQm-kdRoO07qVjWJsX6nubmzMDvbvYPPRVT0rzC9AMe4FXJLYswJlZXKl3OQ1LOSJM-tNc3VKcXMLcRvBV9TVeJ8_sJ0K8dAkf177F6ilHBScxKjMb_yGPn6M1g9N2WBXe4NwNY0W/s1600/Spruikersbutton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 141px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGt3MQm-kdRoO07qVjWJsX6nubmzMDvbvYPPRVT0rzC9AMe4FXJLYswJlZXKl3OQ1LOSJM-tNc3VKcXMLcRvBV9TVeJ8_sJ0K8dAkf177F6ilHBScxKjMb_yGPn6M1g9N2WBXe4NwNY0W/s400/Spruikersbutton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528624821820608066" /></a><br /><br />And I'm SPRUIKING!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So imagine me in front of blogworld with my twinset, pearls and a little amplifier and listen whilst I tell you stuff.<br /><a href="http://bmidontcare.blogspot.com/"><br />The Fat Lady</a> has this liddle meme-y/linky thingo going that I have been meaning to participate in for awhile but I haven't because I have been caught between a small existential crisis and the idiocy of Telstra Bigpond.<br /><br />I'm still having the crisis but fuck it, I'm not letting my buddy down AGAIN this week!<br /><br />So I'm spruiking my fave blog - actually I'm spruiking three of them. When I finally returned to my blog I ran straight to my favourites cos I missed them.<br /><br />1) <a href="http://iwillbehot.blogspot.com/">Revealing the Real Me</a>, Andrea I just love. Just quietly her photo sucked me in because her eyes sparkle and her posts are so sunny. She also doesn't mind when I drop the F-bomb in her comments section.<br /><br />2) Kelley at <a href="http://magnetoboldtoo.com/2010/08/19/today-i-nearly-got-hit-by-an-aeroplane/">Magneto Bold Too</a> This chick has serious crap going on but at all times makes me laugh whilst rockin her old lady shoes. Check it out.<br /><br />3) <a href="http://jemikaan.blogspot.com/2010/10/there-once-were-9-boys.html">Jemikaan</a> -you MUST read this post. It's so close to my heart and if your heard The Fat Lady spruiking my Cyclone blog you will see why. The difference love, understanding and positive re-re-reinforcement can make to a child's life. there is going to be a 2010 remake of To Sir With Love over this post I can tell ya. I might even volunteer to sing (screech) the soundtrack....yanno, cos I'm Lulu and all.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-49454455560042395522010-10-14T20:56:00.008+11:002010-10-15T11:24:20.483+11:00High School ReunionsMy 20 year high school reunion was this week....and I decided to go.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk2TY46HTNZ-WL3TZHrybTpZcy7g-gU8nty2bLvpgf47LRXFfDHpk3dQ9BAmOvb9k3B2XjOJ88TAr35FbX9a8oYi_Jk_gH30aUZIIXwXE6-iaotUKkr_wftrCg0Vydh5ZX-RXJzRm-wz0/s1600/romymichele.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 183px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk2TY46HTNZ-WL3TZHrybTpZcy7g-gU8nty2bLvpgf47LRXFfDHpk3dQ9BAmOvb9k3B2XjOJ88TAr35FbX9a8oYi_Jk_gH30aUZIIXwXE6-iaotUKkr_wftrCg0Vydh5ZX-RXJzRm-wz0/s400/romymichele.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527862762930751634" /></a><br /><br /><br />I haven't been able to draw breath much lately and it seemed yet another thing to stress about, but I was DYING to see some old friends. Lots I have already caught up with on Facebook and that made the idea more appealing.<br /><br />We all had months to crap our pants about it, feel old and wonder if we really wanted to go. My Unperfect life is a pretty open book anyway so I shook off my sooky-pants, shaved my armpits and skidded out the driveway as the sound of my screeching offspring faded away. Clearly a good choice already.<br /><br />It was wonderful. Most people I could pick across the room, others it took awhile to match...but there was shrieking and smiles aplenty. Constant flashback memories and "remember when?"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwi4n6Smla1KUas6Wru_TdwKHqWWq5mlZXd_xvy_1n3xsNGMLYnXUsLuYI18tgWCzyYIOrcVUkdxCvBhzqQsRTQobRc6EDuuq-SmVMc8MJruzrK51EBBC6XRqwx9sWEpapNdcVMMzcQp2A/s1600/MCC1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwi4n6Smla1KUas6Wru_TdwKHqWWq5mlZXd_xvy_1n3xsNGMLYnXUsLuYI18tgWCzyYIOrcVUkdxCvBhzqQsRTQobRc6EDuuq-SmVMc8MJruzrK51EBBC6XRqwx9sWEpapNdcVMMzcQp2A/s400/MCC1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527862096973538514" /></a><br /><br /><br />It wasn't a long night - after all, this was a Catholic School and it was held on a during the week, but enough emails and phone numbers we exchanged so we can have a longer catch up soon.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure everyone was still the same. The loud ones remain loud, the quieter one still reserved and we have all lived the rollercoasters of our own lives and come out sorta normal.<br /><br /><br />I was thrilled to hear of a friend who ran away to the UK nursing her broken heart, spent years in a sharehouse with 26 people sucking up all the drugs she could get her hands on whilst maintaining a job with an elite makeup company.<br />Two of the brightest faces there credit their happiness to recent divorces. The most positive girl in school remains the same and has had 42 different jobs in 20 years.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxoJnTBCPp23Mrwf17NjgR_1X0fIBQKiSlIPIBXrWkSEYoiGHNYPstn90aIuUKS73Oau65bNPswMi9fAorFK3gj4EcX2mMvygu49Br4yOESUCQ8G1U_oh2j3Bpdwnp8JopEfrOP2ryI9c/s1600/index_034.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxoJnTBCPp23Mrwf17NjgR_1X0fIBQKiSlIPIBXrWkSEYoiGHNYPstn90aIuUKS73Oau65bNPswMi9fAorFK3gj4EcX2mMvygu49Br4yOESUCQ8G1U_oh2j3Bpdwnp8JopEfrOP2ryI9c/s400/index_034.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528034534954383890" /></a><br /><br /><br />No one was down on failed relationships or careers that didn't work out - they were sources of laughter. I didn't have a bad time at school, I don't have any horrible memories. Things that might have seemed terrible back then are funny now. Things that were funny then are even FUNNIER now.<br /><br />Burning memories <br /><br />- daring to go up the bell tower to find the dead nun in the rocking chair.<br />- the infamous chairthrowing incident with T and Mr M.<br />- Being lined up on our knees whilst they measured the length of our dresses. <br />- The young priest who wrote FUCK on the blackboard during "sex ed".<br />- The passionate maths teacher with her beautiful saris who was completely wasted on us.<br />- the day the local fire brigade came to assembly and filled the entire courtyard with foam.<br />- the day Mr M was "arrested" during assembly and put into the back of a divvy van with the entire school screaming with laughter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5leACDH4itpHEL_qTOF2J4c3w_6DJ5CBHdHsPEJe4934yWJSl7LElXMaZr-nmD975Z0pIJfp1kdy8un4vzIj7ctBi0gI1kWS8MEuC9iM8joScxzkRHJYK0qzRzWbRng_09IVXhC3QqCc/s1600/index_007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5leACDH4itpHEL_qTOF2J4c3w_6DJ5CBHdHsPEJe4934yWJSl7LElXMaZr-nmD975Z0pIJfp1kdy8un4vzIj7ctBi0gI1kWS8MEuC9iM8joScxzkRHJYK0qzRzWbRng_09IVXhC3QqCc/s400/index_007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528047665910949330" /></a><br /><br /><br />On a separate and far more sombre note, I was shattered to hear of the death of Elizabeth. In my eyes she was the Ice Queen. Statuesque, nordic blonde and with an almost supernatural disposition. She was unflappable, supercool and when I named my youngest daughter I thought of her.<br />Something insidious stole her away from her friends, family and worst of all herself. That razor sharp brain and confidence diminished. I didn't have any preconceived notion of what she was meant to be, but to be cut short like that was certainly not in the plan, not right and what pisses me off about the world sometimes.<br /><br />A short life - but one that made a lasting impression on many people. I'm sorry you <br />couldn't stay Liz.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79LBmUMeEJp5uzl5jgUf1JhnQAIbaQncxn4kbFA2glLY0eNeJZiabn1h7oPbRT7CZ2kUrZMAeDgVDKCUx01RpX5GSdMXh2tFP1qmgHygMlpUNyaZzBQkKJpuY-SYo4QbIy0IlvCVlLJ0M/s1600/flogyoblog-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79LBmUMeEJp5uzl5jgUf1JhnQAIbaQncxn4kbFA2glLY0eNeJZiabn1h7oPbRT7CZ2kUrZMAeDgVDKCUx01RpX5GSdMXh2tFP1qmgHygMlpUNyaZzBQkKJpuY-SYo4QbIy0IlvCVlLJ0M/s400/flogyoblog-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528061950956829122" /></a>Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-61857722946779917932010-10-04T12:11:00.004+11:002010-10-04T12:52:47.891+11:00Im back - with AWARDS!Whale snot, shit/fuck and fruit bats giving blow jobs – it’s all here folks!<br /><br /> The Ig Nobel Awards have recently been announced. Don’t confuse this with the Nobel Prizes. The Ig Nobels are awarded to scientists whose research makes us laugh…and then makes us think.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifngyVB4o3t9K0oi19LBKbljjHzFf8ffq7oHhq6x5MKr12sHAhl492ryzYj5fCUWQnht4BmFPM7OCvAvQyw0IumnLtNZVryeUEWweg-HxiK-gO1QbSHC38tVaNLVl-U462249eXeT-9MUQ/s1600/ignobel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifngyVB4o3t9K0oi19LBKbljjHzFf8ffq7oHhq6x5MKr12sHAhl492ryzYj5fCUWQnht4BmFPM7OCvAvQyw0IumnLtNZVryeUEWweg-HxiK-gO1QbSHC38tVaNLVl-U462249eXeT-9MUQ/s400/ignobel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523994119301999570" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Photo of Nobel Laureates Roy Glauber, Sheldon Glashow and James Muller at this years awards modelling the Gas Mask Bras that won an Ig Nobel last year..</span><br /><br />First up, for <span style="font-weight:bold;">Medicine</span> – the Dutch scientists that discovered riding a roller coaster can treat asthma symptoms. Lucky I don’t get asthma because there is no way you are getting my arse onto one of those things.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Engineering Ig</span> was won by a Mexican/British team for using a remote control helicopter to collect whale snot. Laugh! Then think….how else would you go about collecting snot from whales when you need said snot to monitor disease in whales and help their conservation as a species?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Physics Ig</span> goes to the New Zealand researchers that proved wearing socks outside your shoes reduces slipping on icy paths. Thanks for that guys. I don’t like slipping over on the ice, but I would never have thought of putting my socks on OVER my shoes….<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Management Ig</span> Nobel goes to the Italians for “demonstrating mathematically that organizations would become more efficient if they promoted people at random”. Claaaaassic, and I believe it too.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Biology</span> – the Chinese/British researchers skipped off with their prize for revealing documented evidence that female fruit bats perform fellatio on their partners. This is big because apparently humans are the only species that do this….and it shows that fruit bat ladies are really hot little shaggers because giving your bat bloke a blow job before you do it, makes the act of bat copulation looonger. Go you dirty fruity things!<br /><br />BUT the one I love the bestest and which PROVES my point about fuck being one of the most satisfying words is the <span style="font-weight:bold;">Ig Nobel for PEACE</span> won by the Brits and Keele University that proves swearing relieves pain.<br />During their research they found volunteers could tolerate more pain if they spat out swear words rather than something neutral. In the words of Richard Stephens, the new Ig Nobel Laureate “swearing induces a fight or flight response and nullifies the link between fear of pain and pain perception”.<br /><br /><br />I can also back this theory with some evidence of my own. See many moons ago I woke in a hospital bed to some random dude using his entire body to ram a metal pole (artistic licence much?) into my chest to relieve the pressure of what turned out to be a collapsed lung. Local anesthesia did nothing to relieve the shock and pain, but I was told to swear my little butt off – which I did with relish and oh MY it really worked. Then I got some decent pain killers and had a great hallucinations……but the swearing worked it’s magic. Fuck yeah.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-45834385988567238632010-09-21T16:01:00.005+10:002010-09-21T22:33:11.458+10:00Welcome to WTF??? The remix...Thank you to everyone that commented on my Perfect Day, Iz feelin the lurrve.<br /><br />Of course, the higher you go the harder you fall and we have had a very difficult few days since. In fact I decided it was MY turn for a meltdown and ended up calling Lifeline....only to be told I should call the media. Yes people...apparently I should call A Current Affair. I will say that the effect was immediate in that I ceased to feel helpless and instead felt anger...job done people. It stopped me whining at least.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbw4OeRwct71NZxyLQIsHSxYyNQOiTxuLQjPV-Fz0Lcrv3jMIL5AQFSqXmjB-qeewlZtJJOgTD7P82TsVixxr7we9MBTbp4YGfp174Zt48-xidswUQ-JLBWyAzuCGrxbj45R0ZDSB9VnA/s1600/angrywoman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbw4OeRwct71NZxyLQIsHSxYyNQOiTxuLQjPV-Fz0Lcrv3jMIL5AQFSqXmjB-qeewlZtJJOgTD7P82TsVixxr7we9MBTbp4YGfp174Zt48-xidswUQ-JLBWyAzuCGrxbj45R0ZDSB9VnA/s400/angrywoman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519250590270952210" /></a><br /><br /><br />In any case I thought I'd let y'all know I'll be hanging out at my other blog <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://luluandthecyclone.blogspot.com/">Lulu and The Cyclone</a></span> for awhile to process all the crap that's been happening around here lately. I'm in the kind of mood where I may very well tell random strangers their babies are ugly or start tripping over picture-perfect mummas at the shops - best I retreat to a cave for a little bit.<br /><br /><br />My WTF moment reminded me of a post I did back in May, here it is - <br /><br /><br /><br />Ever read the piece "Welcome to Holland"? Check it out <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://www.our-kids.org/Archives/Holland.html">HERE</a></span>. It was written in reference to finding yourself with a child with a disability but all the mums of kiddies On The Spectrum liked it so much we pinched it for ourselves.<br /><br />Madmother did her own version called <span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://meanderingmadmother.blogspot.com/2010/04/flog-ya-blog-friday-welcome-to-somalia.html">Welcome to Somalia</a></span><br /><br /><br />Here's mine - <br /><br />The Steward announces over the intercom - Welcome to Holland! I grab her arms as she bounces past. Errrm, no I tell her - this plane is going to Italy! I paid for these tickets months ago, I've learnt how to say alcohol in every different dialect!<br /><br /><br />The Steward looks confused and returns shortly - there has been a mix up, I'll get back to you. Here's a vodka. After circling for hours she returns and announces we will be landing in Las Vegas.<br /><br /><br />WTF? I don't want to go there - it's too bright and shiny and the noise never stops. I planned on Italy, dammit. What's wrong with these people? Doesn't the pilot have a fricken map?<br /><br /><br />Oh thank goodness the plane is descending....I look out the window and see Somalia - NOOOO! The plane suddenly raises altitude again and I watch for another few hours whilst we fly over Egypt *sigh, circle over Iran, over Nepal *sigh<br /><br /><br />I need to stretch my legs, I'm sick of watching Adam Sandler movies over and over, the food is wretched and they have RUN OUT OF VODKA.<br /><br />I have no idea where or when this plane is landing and now I don't care. At least I'll have friends in Holland and Somalia...maybe a few in Las Vegas. I just want to GET OFF.<br /><br /><br />Where do they keep the fucking parachutes?????Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-72215923789335832312010-09-17T08:23:00.003+10:002010-09-17T08:47:05.763+10:00One Perfect Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-e9K1ss1qBK7AIV0Ufx9v2VgQoBL3b7wKTpX0o64JzDU8dx5z3vJejoT3rwidPwQDUO8timrfDrM3GURrmrWUrd2yAx3bJCpsAyyMbiee1CF_BpxLJjVA1nstnKEcfu6R4zq0w9wmvaJ/s1600/flogyoblog-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-e9K1ss1qBK7AIV0Ufx9v2VgQoBL3b7wKTpX0o64JzDU8dx5z3vJejoT3rwidPwQDUO8timrfDrM3GURrmrWUrd2yAx3bJCpsAyyMbiee1CF_BpxLJjVA1nstnKEcfu6R4zq0w9wmvaJ/s400/flogyoblog-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517646463980196274" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />I have seriously had the best day! I have to share it and don't crap on me because this is BIGTIME in the Unperfect household. On every level.<br /><br /><br />When I tucked Cyclone into bed last night he mentioned making me breakfast in bed. Lo and behold - after an uninterrupted sleep for both of us, I woke to hear movement in the kitchen. I lolled about, loving that I woke up on my own (no cats on face, dog snuffling at the door or an elbow in my face) and soon saw a grinning Cyclone face peering into my room. Look mummy!<br /><br /><br />He did it! The little monkey filled the kettle and boiled it, got out the toaster and the toast fixings, knocked on The Batchelors bedroom door and asked for help with the kettle and presented me with tea and Vegemite toast in bed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqBeBr6nikQkF36eitltSrhbwtPWs7anhS3-FEuTlZnsxxslZ8xWc57eyVw65p7iJGSUCem9vF41SZx4keMki2YxnTG14bl2JWmyrKMTYdcXDzmegcSiO744MCsLODgeAcotLoWjkkp4e/s1600/teatoast.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqBeBr6nikQkF36eitltSrhbwtPWs7anhS3-FEuTlZnsxxslZ8xWc57eyVw65p7iJGSUCem9vF41SZx4keMki2YxnTG14bl2JWmyrKMTYdcXDzmegcSiO744MCsLODgeAcotLoWjkkp4e/s400/teatoast.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517639599408108626" /></a><br /><br /><br />After a lovely breakfast we got dressed no complaining and decided to seize the day with a short bike ride. We headed to the local school for a meeting to enrol Cyclone for next term. He was nervy but delicious, and played fairly quietly whilst we all discussed his future and funding issues. All went well.<br /><br /><br />Feeling pretty confident we headed to the shopping centre to buy a pair of scissors and craft paper. Job done quickly. I found a pair of 3/4 pants for summer on sale and recklessly decided to try on a pair in size 10. <br /><br /><br />OMG they fit!!! Bought a pair in black and one in grey. Arrhythmia inducing stress must have benefits after all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotEUYvHUdu7Q3x11rJ0ApupIxI2sowfZLVQsTDToyj1PkejIFHOxJtJeyI93v5KH-6iLOkiBJCz3lkIDy6SNwP1VvcvV4sXRau7-t_SeluSFgjNmJ96ESgmb1fiHjoEJsCRelVjyNKqpT/s1600/capri+pants.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotEUYvHUdu7Q3x11rJ0ApupIxI2sowfZLVQsTDToyj1PkejIFHOxJtJeyI93v5KH-6iLOkiBJCz3lkIDy6SNwP1VvcvV4sXRau7-t_SeluSFgjNmJ96ESgmb1fiHjoEJsCRelVjyNKqpT/s400/capri+pants.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517645053932276850" /></a><br /><br />Yeah bitches SIZE TEN.<br /><br /><br />Cyclone wants a drink but doesn't like the choices available. Nearly melts down. Breathes instead. Chooses drink and skips off.<br /><br /><br />I really start pushing it and buy some henna to dye my tresses. Decide not to push it further.....until I walk past a cheap haircut place ("no appointment needed!, cash only!"). I stop. I ponder. Ah FUCK IT, I never have the time for a cut. My hair grows quickly so even if they stuff it up I'll get over it. It can't be worse than long, long, long boringness and borrowing Betty Boos hairclips. Cant it?<br /><br /><br />I breathe in deeply and let it out when I see my stylist is a stunning asian guy with an amazing precision cut I can't stop staring at. He chops about 4 inches out and layers it perfectly...and listens seriously when I beg him not to 'feather' it about my jawline. He cuts in my fringe (WAY BIG DEAL TO ME) better than I hoped.<br /><br /><br />Cyclone has sat still the entire time. Katy Perry blasts through the speakers and I notice his little head bobbing and feet tapping. "It's ok to dance baby" I tell him. So he does - not over the top but enough to have the entire place grinning. I don't bother wondering how an child with such anxiety can dance in front of strangers..I just drink him in.<br /><br /><br />I walk out with the cut of my dreams.....for THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS.<br /><br /><br />We spend the afternoon cutting, pasting and watching "The Deadly 60" (shudder) on T.V.<br /><br /><br />I spend nearly an hour having a great chat with my 18 year old who is right in the midst of her final year exams. She has just ACED one and we have high hopes of her getting into Nursing/Midwifery at university next year. <br /><br /><br />Betty calls me from daddy's house to say goodnight. Cyclone hops into bed clutching all his stuffed dogs and we talk about our Perfect Day. Cyclone starts getting upset and I hope a meltdown isn't on the way....he is crying because "I just want to be the best boy in the world but it's sooo hard". Crises averted when I ask him to take care of my childhood doll Molly. <br /><br /><br />I can't wipe the smile off my face. I feel so NORMAL. My head isn't pounding, my stomach isn't in knots and the vodka bottle sits unopened on the shelf.<br /><br /><br />So I have a drink for Celebration rather than Medicinal purposes and bop around the house channelling Spongebob Squarepants.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0nfa9w6p2eQYzBBVLtdn6theQAKh8Z45v-9jzswtHWhDn4oyPSEoZyUTPlI-Q8xpiVCyj8HM9Ky-yWkdgCRdSIR6621ZtvClcI75GaeY1XQEfM2UEIiPOhTIyvgVIT5fmfHSxVIqPpVcl/s1600/spongebob.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 163px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0nfa9w6p2eQYzBBVLtdn6theQAKh8Z45v-9jzswtHWhDn4oyPSEoZyUTPlI-Q8xpiVCyj8HM9Ky-yWkdgCRdSIR6621ZtvClcI75GaeY1XQEfM2UEIiPOhTIyvgVIT5fmfHSxVIqPpVcl/s400/spongebob.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517642163159228114" /></a><br /><br /><br />"It's the beeeest daaay evveeeer!"Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-14196658257892964182010-09-16T07:21:00.002+10:002010-09-16T07:21:00.248+10:00The state of our heartsThe usual day routine in the Unperfect household are like this *no artistic licence*.<br /><br />Breakfast isn't ready fast enough.<br />Breakfast is "wrong".<br />The cat is purring too loud.<br />Sesame Street is STUPID - get it OFF!<br />Don't want to get dressed.<br />Betty is dancing in front of the telly. *screaming and fights<br />Socks are stupid.<br />Screaming because I missed the ad for Cats and Dogs.<br />Doesn't want to get in the car, rides bike instead.<br />Fights to get in the car first.<br />Screaming because the seat belt won't go in.<br />Screaming because the traffic lights are red.<br /><br />"I don't want to read, reading is STUPID, SUCKY and POO."<br /><br />And so on and so forth.<br /><br />Aspies are notoriously glass half full kinda kids. I'm ok with it, although it is very wearing my little guy really sparkles and those moments refill me through the negativity.<br /><br /><br />Last night sucked hard.<br /><br /><br />I was tired tired tired at 5pm. Usually I don't feel it until after the kids are in bed. Cyclones constant chatter somehow got too much so I set him up on the bench with a can of shaving cream (he loves writing and drawing in it) and asked "please, please don't talk for a little while honey - mummy's head is about to explode".<br /><br />"Ok, mum - look at my hands!" I nod and smile.<br /><br />He stops.<br /><br />"I know it's my fault mum"<br /><br /><br />My heart freezes. What baby?<br /><br /><br />"I just know it's my fault - why you are feeling this, and I feel so sorry for you."<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmzBqZBl9u8Hhk90MNFVYwRVe8de8ndjju5Exyp1i03NEbIVG-5qsDX6Z8HSl8hPLz7xANcli77TdMDLA341TB5TJIbzVDFp52fpkaq-FApRvgl3xHiXpyNmkA-OY7PcGetNSKcBh2PF7/s1600/heart.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmzBqZBl9u8Hhk90MNFVYwRVe8de8ndjju5Exyp1i03NEbIVG-5qsDX6Z8HSl8hPLz7xANcli77TdMDLA341TB5TJIbzVDFp52fpkaq-FApRvgl3xHiXpyNmkA-OY7PcGetNSKcBh2PF7/s400/heart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517129732424055714" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />My heart cracked and fell onto the floor. Then I picked it up and jammed it back into my ribcage.<br /><br /><br />I looked up, faked a sneeze to cover the welly eyes but Cyclone had already taken off to watch The Simpsons.<br /><br /><br /><br />Tomorrow is a Bran Nu Dae and we promise each other to be the best we ever can be, but I can't sleep because I'm frightened I'll hear those words again and worry about the state of my little boys heart.Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-68397610721663078272010-09-14T07:53:00.002+10:002010-09-14T07:55:47.087+10:00Honesty and Accountability<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGo8fSMGB3rne6w2ZJM6mMnHQwmBcdqxyTEjhAHHX01SuxGFHxZkUN4X6NzhqsISlQJIWv_qdcBRf2Q58EkqNez4Se9sRmINSkvmEP3giuejBEvYGYozoFkZ7Kus4GUOaexwzKuqhmlhd4/s1600/ashtray.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 149px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGo8fSMGB3rne6w2ZJM6mMnHQwmBcdqxyTEjhAHHX01SuxGFHxZkUN4X6NzhqsISlQJIWv_qdcBRf2Q58EkqNez4Se9sRmINSkvmEP3giuejBEvYGYozoFkZ7Kus4GUOaexwzKuqhmlhd4/s400/ashtray.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516348870876401026" /></a><br /><br /><br />I told everyone in web/blog world that I am giving up smoking because I have to be accountable to someone. I know lots of you are behind me (and a certain Glamourcidal lady needs to hear about it) and it's far easier to let yourself down than your cheer squad.<br /><br />I also have a personal vendetta against anyone that says "oh I just stopped one day and never went back". Fucking LIARS. I didn't expect to fall pregnant as quickly as I did with Cyclone and had terrible trouble giving up. I really struggled....and I also felt unbelievable hatred towards myself that it wasn't that easy.<br /><br /><br />I ended up chopping down to one half in the morning and one half in the afternoon. I could do no more. EVERY, SINGLE person I spoke to about it said the same thing "as soon as I knew I was pregnant I didn't take another puff". <br /><br /><br />I had ONE work colleague that was so sympathetic and agreed she found it terrible - the guilt more than anything. Later on, 100% of these fuckers that breezily told me it was easy, actually confessed they either didn't give up at all (but cut down HEAPS) or it took them MONTHS to finally kick the cigarettes.<br /><br />Pissed off doesn't even begin to describe the way I felt.<br /><br />But I love my friends that are HONEST and tell me they still feel the cravings 9 years after they have given up, that they still miss it some days. That want to sit next to me and my stinky cigarette after a few beers and breathe in the aroma (foulness) before remembering why they stopped. Thank you for your honesty.<br /><br /><br />So I promise to give it to you balls and all ok? If I stumble I will tell you, when I don't I'm gonna SHOUT IT TO YOU and when I get to the end I will thank you from the bottom of my heart.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGo8fSMGB3rne6w2ZJM6mMnHQwmBcdqxyTEjhAHHX01SuxGFHxZkUN4X6NzhqsISlQJIWv_qdcBRf2Q58EkqNez4Se9sRmINSkvmEP3giuejBEvYGYozoFkZ7Kus4GUOaexwzKuqhmlhd4/s1600/ashtray.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 149px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGo8fSMGB3rne6w2ZJM6mMnHQwmBcdqxyTEjhAHHX01SuxGFHxZkUN4X6NzhqsISlQJIWv_qdcBRf2Q58EkqNez4Se9sRmINSkvmEP3giuejBEvYGYozoFkZ7Kus4GUOaexwzKuqhmlhd4/s400/ashtray.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516348870876401026" /></a><br /><br /><br />So far - I got through <span style="font-weight:bold;">2 days</span> Cold Turkey.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 3</span> I "patched up" with Nicorette Patches but ended up have 2 after a particularly horrific day with Cyclone.<br /><br />I realised that I just wasn't prepared enough. I realised that smoking is just about the ONLY time I have to myself. If mummy is out the back having a cigarette the kids know they have to keep away (and for some bloody reason they listen). In fact I know that is the reason I took it back up again when Cyclone was 4 months old - no one was going to hand me a screaming baby if mummy had a fag hanging out her mouth.<br /><br /><br />I have to replace that. Maybe I will go and lock myself in the toilet the old fashioned way instead? I also NEVER smoke outside my home (unless it's a night on the town), so I'm used to getting home from being out all day and heading straight out the back for a ciggie. How do I replace THAT habit? I seem to be ok going for hours and hours without one - as long as I know I can have one at the end of the day. Hhhmmm.<br /><br /><br />So at this point I am allowing myself 5 per day - UNTIL I can get a bit more jiggy with it.<br /><br /><br />Today I went back to my old house to get my Allan Carr book which really REALLY makes a difference and I will read some of it each night before bed.<br /><br /><br />Let's see how the next week goes.....EEEeeeeeKKS!<br /><br />If you have any tips - share them won't you pleeeease?Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-52380261939487208852010-09-13T09:42:00.001+10:002010-09-13T09:42:48.252+10:00Favourite words of all time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7X3OIcD3f3wXUYzYGgu6WzLEC9jDpzO8R_NBCvA6sWQEYhhB5h0O9rknDNPZRc7b4PuwjrCVeAcxy4jo_acAiMqZSW8T_XQ2RNuTVNIm6ox1-vXWz9dpipiAd9oedu-k2Cl05f7W974U/s1600/words.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7X3OIcD3f3wXUYzYGgu6WzLEC9jDpzO8R_NBCvA6sWQEYhhB5h0O9rknDNPZRc7b4PuwjrCVeAcxy4jo_acAiMqZSW8T_XQ2RNuTVNIm6ox1-vXWz9dpipiAd9oedu-k2Cl05f7W974U/s400/words.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516003126688416178" /></a><br /><br /><br />I luuurve words. I use lots of them ALL the time. I never shut up really.<br /><br />As most of you will know I just love the word Fuck. I don't care that some people think it means I have limited vocabulary, only sanctimonious twats say that anyway.<br /><br /><br />Fuck is awesome because you can say it with such feeling fffffffuuCK. I also like Fucktard but I really don't use it as much as I should.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SANCTIMONIOUS</span>. I use this about twice a week on average.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">TRESSES</span>. Just like the way it sounds, it invokes Lady Godiva-ish images or Botticellis Venus type thoughts.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">STRUMPET</span>. Thank you Helen Razer for introducing this word to me. Completely underutilized.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">GALLIVANT</span>. Everyone laughs when I say this. It may have something to so with the flappy arm movements that come with it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">GRUNTLED<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span>. Oh Gruntled! When I first heard you I went into hysterics. Maybe GRUNTLED should marry <span style="font-weight:bold;">WHELMED</span> and live happily every after.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">TINTINNABULATION</span>. It's just funny.<br /><br /><br />I got a thing for these words too.<br /><br />Succulent<br />Talisman<br />Woebegone<br />Resplendent<br /><br />What are your favourite words? Are there any words you hate?<br /><br /><br />I have two, but I dislike them so much I can't bear to type them...Luluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6363760631276834825.post-21616058457458638052010-09-13T08:09:00.000+10:002010-09-13T08:09:00.637+10:00Vegie boost for fussy eaters - sneaky but.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjMLEUxnMVTM2VMVhfCot43_LK9ZcS4bGxDTW6NWZHXy5G8SpKueqHgg653Ehi07tFZAL1aiuK4Bw39_52wpHJsVh6VDtLg_arUmH8vNJhRCO5fUJekSz334t8suFH3LjlSODoQHM5I-R/s1600/vegetables.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjMLEUxnMVTM2VMVhfCot43_LK9ZcS4bGxDTW6NWZHXy5G8SpKueqHgg653Ehi07tFZAL1aiuK4Bw39_52wpHJsVh6VDtLg_arUmH8vNJhRCO5fUJekSz334t8suFH3LjlSODoQHM5I-R/s400/vegetables.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515611700325342690" /></a><br /><br />Children get fussy with foods and drive us all spare. Starting a power play at the dinner table every night just raises parents blood pressure and provides excellent entertainment for the kids.<br /><br />Here is a very easy way of booting the vitamin and mineral intake of even the fussiest of eaters.<br /><br /><br />Roughly chop - <br /><br />2 carrots<br />1 onion<br />1 leek<br />4 stalks celery (yep,leaves too if you can fit them in)<br />4 sprigs parsley (including the stems)<br />2 bay leaves<br />1 bouquet garni (from the spice section of the supermarket)<br />4 black peppercorns<br /><br />Throw it in a pot with 1.5 liters of water. Bring to the boil then reduce heat and simmer for an hour.<br /><br />Cool slightly then strain it through a sieve, discard the solids (hopefully into the compost).<br /><br />Simmer uncovered until the liquid reduces by half, cool and pour into ice cube trays and freeze.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">How to use</span><br /><br />Stir into a white sauce or bechamel instead of milk (or a bit of both)<br />Add it to pasta sauce<br />Use as the liquid in a risotto<br />Use it with water (50/50 mix) to cook rice or pasta<br /><br />*from Feeding Fussy Kids by Julie Maree Wood.<br /><br /><br />Hiding vegies is a great way to ease your mind and make sure the little fussy pants kids are getting enough nutrition. I always present vegetables on the plate at dinnertime anyway. Most of the time I find they WILL end up trying out new stuff if they see mum and dad eating it, and there is no pressure to do so.<br /><br /><br />CheersLuluhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10050303695579821042noreply@blogger.com5