Hmmm Wedding Wishing Wells or wtf they call them

So I'm going to a wedding. I don't know the people but they are friends of Aquaman, and he showed me the invitation the other day. It's lovely, in fact the best I've seen so far. Really classy, customised, black and white. It has a lovely RSVP card all stamped and ready to go.

Then something else caught my eye, a little poem in the front inside page.

To save you looking, shopping or buying
Here is an idea we hope you like trying
Come to our wedding to wish us both well
and bring a card to throw into the well.

Fill it with notes all colours will do,
green is our favourite but gold will do
Now that we have saved you all of the fuss
we hope you will come and celebrate with us.

Ummm. Ewwwww.

Sorry but I just don't like it. I think it's a bit crass. I'm really, really stuck on the bit where the colour of the money is specified....

This probably means I am getting old, or uncool or BOTH.

I like the idea of a Wedding Registry but I never promise to stick to it. I like to buy something that sometimes has a little more meaning than a Bamix. Or some artwork, or just something beautiful.

I had a fairly loose registry when I got married, we had just bought a house, had lived together previously - I understand that registries can really help these days.

But you know what? It was the things we received that weren't on the list that I love the most of all. The two STUNNING crystal vases I would have never thought to list or ever buy for myself for example.

Asking for money? It's too cold. I LIKE shopping for wedding gifts, I think the presumption that I find it a pain in the arse to buy a wedding gift annoys me even more. I know it's different in different cultures/parts of the word, I get that but I LIKE WRAPPING the gift TOO.

AND - I can name name the giver of every, single wedding present. Even 7 years later and I remember with a smile everytime I look at or use them. That's just as wonderful to me.

** Disclaimer - I don't know this couple, I'm not saying they suck or are awful.

What do YOU think?

Oh crappy daaaayyy

Grragh!

It all started with finding this in my bedroom this morning.



I am 95% positive that it's the same one evicted from my letterbox 2 weeks ago. He's come back for revenge, and doing a top job too.

Even though I only get sick once every couple of years, I happen to cop a rotten rotten cold right when my father is in hospital with respiratory problems so I can't go and see him. My nose is dripping like a tap and my eyes are watering and even my whine sounds like a foghorn

The children, like most wild animals can sense weakness and are behaving like a pack of ferals whilst I whimper in the corner and plead with them croakily to stop bouncing off the walls.

Once again my precious little rotters have managed to embarrass me beyond words by stripping to their underwear and running out the front to the neighbours hard rubbish pile and ratting for treasure.

I go and herd them back inside and get a bigger than usual grin from the postlady riding by and realise I am standing there wearing the top half of a pirate costume (because Boo promised she would stop yelling if I put it on)and a roll of toilet paper in my hand.

Awesome.

5 questions I'm asking myself today....

Why are there almonds in the bath?

I wonder if Scorpio noticed I used his toothbrush to clean the washing machine filter?

Why do I compulsively buy canned lentils? no CHICKPEAS! Why??

How did I not find Lamebook EARLIER????

Should I start my Agony Aunt section of this blog???

Hmmmmm

Daggy ass comp winners - the comp, not the winners!

So through a bit of bribery - ha der har, I got some feedback from the makers of my yummy things.

Check the comments in this post HERE for some yummy alternatives.

So there was going to be ONE winner but I can do whatever the fuck I want.

So Lady Astrid of Lady of the Longhouse wins because I like the fact she uses up whatever she has in the fridge.

and Cailin at A Gastronomic Affair and better start adding to it soon....
Cailin however WAS streets ahead of the pack (you can see why), but I had to deduct several points for her use of the word BRIE. She really shouldn't do that and should know better, it took me ages to get all the drool off my keyboard.

So chicks a little surprise is in the mail in the next few days.

Thanks to all who gave feedback, I have heaps of new things to fiddle with.

Good Deeds??

OK, jumping back into the BLOG THIS challenge.
Subject - So friends, tell us about a good deed you have done for someone or vice-versa. Or how someone elses' good deed that you have learned about has affected you.. did you learn from it? How did it make you feel? Was it a disaster? Did it uplift you?

So here are some good deeds I have participated in or been on the receiving end of



A bootful of groceries to someone who wouldn't ask for help and delivered in such a way there was no blushing of either party.



A package of delicate underclothes sent thousands of miles from one friend to another....just to make her feel better when things are hard in the life department.



A day spent helping a single mother beautify the house she works her butt off to purchase all on her own through determination and hard work.



A tiny pair of booties, knitted with love and attention to detail, to ease the pain of another, so she wouldn't leave the hospital empty-handed. For a woman you have never met and probably never will.

Are these Good Deeds? Random Acts of Kindness? Helping out a friend or fellow human? Or simply things we should all DO?

I dunno, but I can tell you every single person involved in all of the above felt good and more than likely spread that feeling around to everyone they saw over the next few days after...so thats GOOD.

ANZAC memorial

Anthem for Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.

No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, --
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.




Great War Primary Document Archive

Very Bad Things - Part Three

I stole my dads car when I was 15....but I had to get to work so I totally justified it to myself ok?

Hey, I was running late and work called to hassle me. The car was sitting in the driveway and the keys were there.

I had been driving around the country roads in mums Honda a few times so therefore I knew was I was doing - how hard could it be?

Never mind the fact dads car wasn't a Honda




It was a dirty big ole Valiant Charger. With a steering wheel like a bus and the handling of the QE2.

Of course I was wearing my teenage princess-of-everything-and-holder-of-all-knowledge pants, grabbed the keys and hopped right in and drove to work very uneventfully.....actually I was crapping those princess pants and it got worse when it came to parking. I HAD to park in a multi-level thingos, and it's not fun negotiating them when you are driving the equivalent of said QE2.

In fact I somehow managed to drive it up the side of the car in space next to mine. I somehow grazed the side and the valiant got caught on the strip on the other car and I was inching into the space so slowly I didn't notice until I felt like I was tipping over. I reversed back and noted no damage to either vehicle....and a guy behind me killing himself laughing.

I managed to get the car back home later that night, (undetected!) - and swore never to do it again, cos maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought.