tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86403371130474356882024-02-19T11:15:46.194+08:00ChickChatthe stuff I might tell you over coffeeUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger713125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-26631983518489888662020-03-25T16:25:00.002+08:002020-03-25T16:25:32.115+08:00Let the good times roll.... <br />
So, wow, long time, no post.<br />
But I guess the end of life as we know it is as good a time as any to kick an old blog back into being, yes?<br />
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JUST in case any of you missed it, the global pandemic of COVID-19, or the Wuhan flu, has pretty much overthrown society in the world as we know it.<br />
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Today in Australia, we have completely closed our borders to all incoming traffic, and most outgoing (only essential travel overseas is permitted, such as armed forces or medical).<br />
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Any and all non-essential gatherings are banned. Weddings can proceed with only the celebrant, couple, and two witnesses. No reception.<br />
Funerals can have a maximum of 10 people in attendance.<br />
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Pubs, clubs, gyms, and most other shops are closed.<br />
You can still get takeaways or home delivery from many cafes and restaurants, but that's a matter of days, I think.<br />
You can go to the supermarket, but there are heavy restrictions on items, and that now applies to alcohol as well.<br />
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People are pulling their kids out of school and older kids are pulling out of TAFE and university.<br />
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People are scared.<br />
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Personally, my daughter, 15, has not attended school for a bit over a week. She had a head cold and though it was mild, I elected to pull her out at that stage.<br />
She's got some on-line assessments to keep her busy till they set up the on-line classrooms they promise us will happen.<br />
Fabio and I have discussed paying for tutoring if we feel she's falling behind in maths.<br />
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My 18 year old son just started TAFE a few weeks ago, but we don't know what's going to happen with that. He may have to move back home.<br />
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My 27 year old is able to access his TAFE course on-line so far.<br />
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My older kids and grandkids are all ok so far, all working in industries considered to be essential (childcare, mining, food retail) and all healthy.<br />
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My husband has been working his butt off, in Perth, putting in huge days, trying to keep himself isolated as best he can while <br />
re-organising our entire workforce to keep them as healthy as possible<br />
liaising with current clients, financial and mechanical businesses<br />
delivering buses to minesites so our workforce isn't on small planes<br />
sanitising those buses<br />
organising and delivering PPE and toilet paper and personal cutlery and the like to our people<br />
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as well as his usual job of mine manager which is a 24/7 job.<br />
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And when I say 'delivering buses and supplies', I mean he drives them there. He can easily do a 16 hour day with most of it spent on dirt roads.<br />
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He hasn't had more than 24 hours off at a time for the last 3 months, and only a couple of those 24 hour breaks since the beginning of February.<br />
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And WE are the lucky ones!<br />
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So far we're all fine. We have jobs and food and yes, toilet paper.<br />
15 and I get along well, and that's a good thing because we're in this house all day, every day, just the two of us.<br />
We live in a nice spot. We have nice neighbours we can chat to from a safe distance.<br />
We're still getting mail, an occasional parcel, we have Netflix and internet and books.<br />
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So many in this country have lost their jobs, have mortgages and kids and year 12 and bills to worry about.<br />
So many are sick. So many are afraid of becoming sick and dying, or causing the death of someone they love.<br />
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Every night we watch the news to find out what new freedoms and privileges have been wrested from us by this horrible virus.<br />
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But Aussies are a pretty resilient lot. We've been through horrific bushfires already this year, and we'll make it through this damn virus as well.<br />
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I just hope we learn some serious lessons from it all.<br />
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<img align="left" src="https://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0px;" />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-49926529955100182312015-01-02T09:49:00.002+08:002015-01-18T10:37:41.378+08:00day 4 -- in which we almost have our kidneys stolen, and find a demon horse.SO. Somewhat belatedly, here goes my description of Penang.<br />
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We woke up after the trip to KL feeling less than excited about another excursion.<br />
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Docking was again a high-light of my day, I loved watching our massive ship glide gently in and was super-impressed by the skills everyone displayed.<br />
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I had booked us (Fabio and myself) tickets on a bus tour of markets and things, but we didn't want to go so we cancelled it (didn't get our money back, either) and had a leisurely breakfast and relaxed a bit.<br />
One of my sisters and her husband had booked some spa time, and my other sister asked us if we wanted to go for a walk off-ship.<br />
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Feeling brave, we decided to fore-go any kind of arrangement or organisation, and wing it! After KL, where there were about a million taxis waiting outside the terminal, we thought it was a pretty safe bet that Penang would be no different.<br />
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Well, it was different, in that there were so many of them, and they were so persistent, we nearly had to beat them off with a stick.<br />
They tried desperately to convince us that there was nothing to see locally, and we should go for a nice, long drive into the city.<br />
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Once out of the terminal, we just started wandering. The architecture is GORGEOUS.<br />
See?<br />
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That little blue thing? I was very taken with that. It's TARDIS blue, and super-cute, so I was taken aback to discover it's a list of WANTED BY THE POLICE people!<br />
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An early attempt at an ATM? deposits only, I imagine.<br />
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We found a place for lunch, and the food was mostly good. My sister's toasted cheese sandwich was flat-out WEIRD -- bread like cake, thick and sweet -- she tasted it but couldn't get her head round it. I had chips. Yes, I am THAT tourist.<br />
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The girls needed a wee walk after lunch. There was a toilet sign on the wall at the back so we followed it through a door, down a long dark passage past - and through - the kitchen area and storage rooms, and some unidentifiable dark rooms full of busy people, and I started to make comments about having our kidneys stolen.<br />
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Eventually, though, we found ourselves in a sunny courtyard with a toilet block...<br />
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..... clearly denoted by this saucy looking lass....</div>
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and a wooden horse,</div>
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Not creepy at all. Chinese New Year decoration. Mmm hmmmm.</div>
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More walking.<br />
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We found ourselves in a very Indian area, with lots of SARI SHOPS!!<br />
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Our eyes lit up like pinball machines! (well, my sister's and mine, at least)<br />
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BIL headed back to the ship, leaving his wife, my sister, in my husband's charge. He was like a border collie trying to round up chooks, poor man. We dived in and out of shops, staffed by mysterious Indian gentlemen, and eventually found a nice sari for my sister. They altered it for her in about 15 minutes, on the spot, and we also got some gorgeous jewellery in a lovely shop run by a tiny Indian lady who reminded me of my nana, only abut half the height.<br />
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I, alas, couldn't find anything I liked. Too fat, too big in the boobs. I needed the looser style of sari, but it was so hot and getting later, and we decided to make our way back to the ship.<br />
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Once back on board, we had a shower, a few cool bevvies, and took a stroll round the ship.<br />
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It was a tad breezy.<br />
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And, it has to be said, my sister looked amazing at dinner that night!<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0px;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-79061201656408921032014-04-24T18:01:00.000+08:002014-04-24T18:01:09.340+08:00Wobbly Wednesday -- Winter WarmerMaybe it's not winter in YOUR neck of the woods, but it's been pretty chilly here, and I don't like the cold <b>AT ALL</b>.<br />
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So I devised a truly yummy Hot Chocolate for grown-ups, and am drinking one now (which accounts for the heavy demands on proof-reading and editing).<br />
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I call it Chocolate Temptation.<br />
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Make yourself a mug of hot chocolate -- <br />
(I use Cadburys Drinking Chocolate powder, made with hot water because I am lactose sensitive and can't have a lot of milk.)<br />
I top up with almond milk -- partly because of the lactose thing, and partly because it's YUM.<br />
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Add a good belt of Frangelico, and stir.<br />
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Now if you're being VERY naughty, add whipped cream and some grated chocolate.<br />
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Sip and enjoy.<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-63099310589614038752014-03-22T09:44:00.001+08:002014-03-22T09:44:27.196+08:00day 3 -- in which we visit KL and are traumatised by plumbingOur first shore day started bright and early.<br />
We woke at something stupid like 4 in the morning, and were so excited we went for a walk around the ship. It was pitch-dark and there were crew everywhere, cleaning and getting ready for the day, and while they were a little surprised to see us, no-one wanted to know what we were up to or told us to go back to bed, so we had an almost empty ship to roam around in.<br />
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Then, while Fabio snoozed, I watched the ship come into the dock (fascinating!) and spent ages just watching the activity on-shore.<br />
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To get everyone OFF the ship and give them the maximum amount of time on-shore, you disembark before I would be dressed on any normal day at home.<br />
So we clomped into the dining room very very early for brekkie, to be greeted by happy, smiling, friendly staff. Nothing was too much trouble for them and it was a perfect way to start the day. We got an extensive menu to choose from, and I had pancakes with bacon and sausage, every day.<br />
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I had booked a private tour through <a href="http://www.wegowithanuar.com/">We Go With Anuar</a>, rather than a ship-offered cruise, and I had no idea at all what to expect. Reviews on Trip Advisor had all spoken of him glowingly, so despite the slight difficulty in communication, and not having been able to re-arrange the itinerary, I thought it would be OK.<br />
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We trundled through all the Welcome To Malaysia stuff, and the inevitable photo-fest, and made our way through the cruise terminal.<br />
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{there are three sisters connected to this photo -- one in it, one taking it, and one photobombing it)</div>
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(goodbye, Ship! hope we see you again tonight!)</div>
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You don't take your passport, as that stays with the ship, so you must take your SeaPass (issued on-board and used for everything from purchases to unlocking your room) and the process of getting off the ship and into a foreign country is remarkably simple if you are doing the right thing. <br />
We were. We'd been well-warned about the public canings and death penalty and were fully intending to make it home again.<br />
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Our driver, Zack, was waiting for us with a big sign in his hands, which was a welcome sight, and we hopped into his very clean and roomy van, where he promptly turned on the aircon and earned our undying love.<br />
It was pretty warm and very very humid.<br />
(Anuars' site says his van has aircondition and working seatbelt. Being the clowns we are, we joked about who would get that seatbelt. But in the end, Zack was such a careful driver, and the traffic was SO calm, I didn't even put mine on!)<br />
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Clean, cool, and comfy. What more could you want?</div>
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Tolls</div>
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I love taking road pictures but they don't look the same if you're not in the front seat.</div>
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The port is quite a long way from KL (I think it was about an hour) and there was a lot of smoke haze, caused by massive fires elsewhere -- like another country -- blowing over Malaysia and Thailand. The drive was interesting though, but I found it really weird in some ways. There is a lot of rubbish blowing about, and the buildings were arranged in some random pattern of shabby hovels interspersed with huge, grandly built, derelict mansions. </div>
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Our first stop was to be Batu Caves. I hadn't wanted to go there, because of the 272 steps leading up to the temple, but the difficulty of communicating this with Anuar had proven to be too much, so I gave up trying.<br />
In retrospect, I wish I had persisted.<br />
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Keep in mind that my husband and MIL have travelled extensively in Asia, and they had warned me that the toilets could be really bad. I was prepared for that. I grew up with an outside dunny. I have used long-drops many times, I have peed in the bush, I am not particularly squeamish about toilets.<br />
Keep that in mind.<br />
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I was BUSTING for a pee when we piled out of the van. There was a shabby looking arrangement of stairs with a broken and dirty pink building at the top which I realised was the toilet, and I climbed the stairs to be greeted by a table with two old crones sitting at it, collecting coins.<br />
Oh, seriously?? I have to pay to use this? Riiiiiiiight. <br />
First problem -- my husband had all the money, and I didn't know where he was, and of course, now that my bladder had literally seen it's salvation, it was ready to offload. I bolted back down the steps, and Zack noticed my distress and lent me a funny looking little coin that I assume was the right one, because the crones didn't give me any change.<br />
By now hobbling with my knees locked together, I rounded the corner into the hideous broken pink building, and saw my sisters both looking shell-shocked and very clearly trying not to touch anything.<br />
A split second later, the smell hit me like a brick wrapped in 3 week old garbage, and I registered the inch deep pool of .......... liquid ......... that covered the entire floor.<br />
Then I noticed the sluicing arrangement, the squat (a hole in the floor), and the filth. Everywhere.<br />
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And I realised, with a sinking heart and a bursting bladder, that I was wearing 3/4 length pants.<br />
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So picture me, juggling my backpack with it's toilet wipes and ziplock bags, and trying to get my pants down far enough to not pee on them, while pulling the legs up high enough that they wouldn't dangle in whatever that liquid was. While squatting. And trying to miss my shoes. All the time holding my breath and hoping I didn't pass out from lack of oxygen.<br />
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Or, maybe, don't picture it. It wasn't a pretty sight.<br />
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But, I survived! YAY me. I have to tell you, though, I would have given a lot for a dip in Dettol right then.<br />
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Anyway, now we were finally ready to view the Buddha and the steps and the caves.<br />
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Here is Buddha in all his splendid Golden Glory. He is demonstrably the cleanest thing here, and is a truly beautiful sight. The workmanship is incredible.<br />
You can see the infamous stairs on the left of the picture, which should also give you an idea of how big the statue is.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">And here is the family, supporting one another in toilet shock recovery (the mens' was even worse, apparently) and deciding who was going up the stairs.</span></div>
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I figured my flabby legs would punish me the next day, and I had shopping planned, so I firmly indicated that I was not going near the stairs, and besides which, they were disgustingly filthy and I didn't want to touch the handrails, but everyone else elected to have a go, and off they set.</div>
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I occupied myself by keeping one eye fixed on the monkeys (we'd been warned again and again about the monkeys, known for stealing possessions and also for nasty bites), and the other eye wandering between people-watching and the carvings.</div>
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This tree had me fascinated, as it's growing on the ROOF of the building below.<br />
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A monkey. This is as close as I was willing to get. I have been pretty much off monkeys since one snatched a handful of hair out of my cousin Bruce's head when we were young kids.<br /><br />And this is (I think, the ONLY one taken) a picture of some of the clan upstairs in the Putrid Stinking Monkey Temple.<br />
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Apparently, between the equally gross toilets up there as well, and the rotten fruit and monkey crap, in a confined space, it was NOT a heavenly experience, no matter how high the stairs went.<br /><br />With a huge sense of relief, we all got back on the bus and headed for Royal Selangor Pewter.<br /><span style="text-align: center;">I had thought this would be a kind of boring tour but it ended up being the highlight of the day. </span><br /><br />
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We got a fantastic guide, whose name utterly escapes me, and he gave us a really informative and very interesting tour. Being that our dad was a tin miner, and two of the husbands are in mining, we found the background story and photos fascinating. All six of us were wow-ed by the craftsmanship, and found the demonstrations amazing.<br />
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I THINK this is the companys' mark.</div>
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An actual money-tree. Instead of a wallet, you would carry one of these, and break the coins off as you needed them. Hence the saying, money doesn't grow on trees....<br />
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Happy husband.</div>
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This lady is making money-trees, by pouring molten pewter into a mould. She's clearly been at it a while, because each one takes her about a minute to produce. And not a drop spilled.</div>
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The polishing process. The shavings look like steel wool but are amazingly soft, and of course, they get gathered up and re-melted.<br />
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This lady is hammering dents into a cup; you can see a finished one in my sisters' hand. She didn't hit her thumb once.<br />
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Some of the coloured products available<br />
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I loved this training centre -- it's called the School Of Hard Knocks!</div>
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We girls were stunned by the tea-caddies. </div>
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<a href="http://c409502.r2.cf1.rackcdn.com/images/Tea_Caddy_Orchid_in_Gift_Box_4558G_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://c409502.r2.cf1.rackcdn.com/images/Tea_Caddy_Orchid_in_Gift_Box_4558G_1.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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(this is a photo from the RSP web-site)</div>
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They have the coolest lids you've ever seen. They're so well-crafted that you just drop them lightly on, and they sink down and seal themselves, air-tight. It's astounding to watch. I am SO going to buy myself one when I'm rich.</div>
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Our next stop? <span style="text-align: center;">PETRONAS TOWERS. You recognise these Bad Boys, doncha?</span></div>
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<br />Have you seen the movie, 'Entrapment'?<br />
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Zack had allowed us some shopping time here, but to be honest we just had a quick look around and didn't buy anything. The towers themselves are cool but the shops didn't grab us.<br />
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They're pretty tall.</div>
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Two of the sisters concentrating on taking a selfie, then suddenly remembering you're supposed to smile.<br />
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Crazy-beautiful skyline.</div>
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And some stunning architecture</div>
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We hadn't had a scheduled lunch-break, as such, so if you're planning on touring with Anuar, take note of that. We grabbed a walk-around snack at a food-place at Petronas Towers, and were pretty hungry (and tired) by the day's end. </div>
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All in all, I'm not sorry we did this tour (even the stinky monkey joint) but I wouldn't plan on visiting KL again. I'm sure if you were there for more than a day, you could discover some amazing places, but the distance from port makes it hard to see more than the standard tourist stops.<br />We also felt this is not a 'happy' city. None of us felt truly comfortable, and I've heard other tourists say the same thing. It's good to do once, but they wouldn't go back.</div>
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You would not believe how relieved I was to have a shower that night!! And look at the cute little guy waiting for us...</div>
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.... along with our copy of tomorrows' newsletter, our room service order forms, and our tickets for the next day's tour. All on a freshly-made bed! (with, incidentally, the same doona cover that I have at home. SEE the lengths they go to so you feel comfortable???)<br />
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Our next stop : Penang!<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-31169465720456427992014-03-19T18:05:00.002+08:002014-03-19T18:11:22.119+08:00Wobbly Wednesday -- White LadyWelcome to Wobbly Wednesday.<br />
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This is something I just thought of 5 minutes ago, and like most of my blog posts, it will probably fall flat.<br />
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The idea is that Wednesdays are my day off (no karate, no Scouts, no having-to-drive-the-car at all) so I like to treat myself to <b>A</b> cocktail. Two if I'm feeling REALLY adventurous.<br />
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I have some nice glasses and I like to spoil myself with a treat by glamming it up.<br />
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So to start off, let's roll with Cointreau. Because, really, if you don't have Cointreau in your cocktail cabinet, there's something a bit wrong.<br />
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Try this bit of yumminess:<br />
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUQ4YFFfB000j6yxFyLvFHxmu_40PAxJ1ZSQJx2WX12Vx1cvVZ" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUQ4YFFfB000j6yxFyLvFHxmu_40PAxJ1ZSQJx2WX12Vx1cvVZ" /></a></div>
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WHITE LADY<br />
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20 ml Cointreau<br />
20 ml lemon juice<br />
40 ml gin<br />
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shake with crushed ice and serve with a strip of orange peel or an edible flower.<br />
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Let me know if you try it -- I am enjoying it! I've used Bombay Sapphire gin because it's my favourite.<br />
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Feel free to join me and link up from your own blog.<br />
And here's the admonishment -- don't forget to DRINK RESPONSIBLY.<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-86888130717546736752014-02-21T16:53:00.001+08:002014-02-21T16:55:48.293+08:00we board the Love Boat<b><u>Day Two</u></b> -- up early (no time zone change so YAY) and down for breakfast, last minute re-organise of bags etc, then a taxi ride to the Cruise Terminal.<br />
Our driver did not believe in leisurely tourist drives. We rocketed through the streets and I barely had time to gasp as we whizzed past the Raffles Hotel.<br />
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Yes, THE Raffles Hotel.<br />
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I so wanted to go in for morning tea, but we didn't have time.</div>
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Even the streetlights looked exotic.</div>
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Council workers are the same all over the world, apparently.</div>
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The Marina Bay Sands Hotel. </div>
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Three towers topped with a replica ship that is actually mostly an infinity edge pool. </div>
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Impressive in it's ugliness.</div>
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We hit the ramp leading up into the Cruise Terminal at a rate of knots, and I thought the driver was actually going to do a James Bond type stunt straight onto the ship. But no. He screeched to a stop and practically threw us out before roaring off in a cloud of dust.</div>
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Luckily, from that point, the (friendly and efficient, though not in a screaming rush) cruise staff took over.</div>
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The process of getting your Sea Pass and booking organised is amazingly easy if you get there really, really early, and have your paperwork in order</div>
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and we were told that we could board almost right away. We had all booked suites, which gave us Priority Boarding, and that helped.</div>
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We had some photos taken in front of a picture of the ship, which it seems is something of a must. I didn't want to, the camera really hates me, but never let it be said that I don't do what I'm told! So here I am, the fattie with the two gorgeous sisters.<br />
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the one my husband took...</div>
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and the 'official' one.</div>
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We're all wearing our husbands' watches, which at this point were all in good working order.</div>
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A short walk along the walkway brought us to the floating land mass that is Mariner of the Seas.</div>
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She's big.</div>
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At this point, I was clutching my husband's hand and hopping up and down, making little EEEEE noises. It was pretty exciting. EVERYONE was so friendly and polite, welcoming us with Madams and Sirs.<br />
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But nothing could have prepared us for the Grand Promenade.<br />
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Or the Dining Rooms</div>
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How's THAT for fancy eats?? There are actually three dining rooms, and ours was the very top one. </div>
You can nearly see our table on the very top left corner right next to the chandelier, in that rounded sticky-outy bit. We had a great view of everything.<br />
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Dig that chandelier! and the staircase! and the dancing couple!</div>
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The dining rooms have musical names (like Rhapsody in Blue, and The Sound of Music) and they have a male and female dance costume at each entrance. This is one of the gorgeous frocks.</div>
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(thanks Ker for the photo)</div>
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We could hardly wait till dinner-time!</div>
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There's a theatre on-board</div>
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as well as an ice-skating rink (which I neglected to photograph), </div>
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a Gothic-themed nightclub</div>
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and a casino</div>
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with a trippy see-through floor.</div>
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plus a library (yes. of course I visited it) and a gym (I'm sure you're shocked to discover I didn't even go inside) and a coffee shop and a video arcade that would delight the heart of any kid.</div>
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***</div>
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But there were drinks to be had and bars to explore. We found some family and settled into the Windjammer, where Jimmy got his own seat and clearly had a few ales judging by the leery grin on his face.</div>
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The view was a bit of alright....</div>
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as was the view from the ladies loo (yes, the loos were behind doors!)</div>
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We moved out into the main pool area </div>
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so Jimmy could get a tan</div>
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(Yes, that is me, after a few mojitos)</div>
(thanks Ker for THAT photo too!)<br />
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There was no shortage of places to sit with a drink or a book or group of friends. My favourite was Ellingtons, right up the top of the ship, with 180 degree views and no kids....</div>
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and mojitos</div>
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and double Scotches</div>
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resulting in some pretty relaxed passengers.</div>
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Hilariously, our waiter was KETUT. He told us that he was pretty confused at all the Australians who greeted him like a long-lost brother, until he heard about the ad. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/DUYM66nqJQ8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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He was (IS) a gorgeous young man, with a crazy giggle and a really sweet personality. His future at home was not filled with the prospect of riches; this was his first contract on a ship, and we all wish him the very best. (Ketut, by the way, means 4th son.)</div>
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(thanks, Sissy, for the photo)</div>
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At this point, we STILL hadn't seen our rooms. The luggage is all collected for you, and delivered, so you can't access your room till whatever-time-they-say -- which is a bargain considering you don't have to drag suitcases all over the place.</div>
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So we went to take a look at where we'd be sleeping for the next 5 nights.</div>
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Bit nice?<br />
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This was a Grand Suite, so a bit larger than many other rooms.<br />
The bed was SUPER comfy, in fact the whole room was comfy with plenty of cupboard space. For some reason, one of our wardrobes had about a dozen life-jackets stacked in it, so the family decided that if we started to sink, everyone was coming to our room.<br />
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We had a nice balcony, with a lounger and two chairs<br />
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The balcony was pretty well protected from the wind, though we really didn't have any to speak of.</div>
And we didn't get a lot of cigarette smoke drifting over from other cabins, which I had heard we might.<br />
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***</div>
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Then it was time to get back to the real business of the day -- relaxing and waiting for Sail Away.</div>
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You can see the water is disturbed, as the ship swings away from the dock. But we had to WATCH to make sure it was happening, because you couldn't feel it! Talk about a smooth operation.</div>
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There was only ONE Titanic moment, and it was a good one!</div>
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The ship got more and more magical as the lights came on</div>
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and we got more and more 'relaxed'.</div>
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Time to dress and dine! the food was amazing. Each day, a menu was left in our room so we could spend the whole day thinking about what we might order, and almost every time, there was a battle of choices.<br />
I did notice there were a lot of seafood and mushroom dishes, neither of which I like, but there was always a choice that included neither.<br />
The portions were generous, but not huge, and the bread rolls were plentiful and far too yummy. And there was REAL butter, no margarine.<br />
Our serving and bar staff at table were all delightful people, always ready with a joke and nothing was too much trouble for them.<br />
And no dishes afterward!! talk about the perfect meal(s).<br />
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We had thought we would do a show after dinner, but we enjoyed the meal so much we sat till late, and our KL shore excursion required us to be up and breakfasting early, so we toddled off to bed and had a very solid night's sleep.<br />
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Tomorrow -- the Big Trip into KL!<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-25102297510303202262014-02-18T18:01:00.002+08:002014-02-18T19:12:10.303+08:00a holiday story. In several parts.Several months ago, my sisters decided to take a cruise and asked us to join them.<br />
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A CRUISE????? are you KIDDING???????????<br />
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We said yes.<br />
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Now I know some of you are thinking, OMG I DON'T WANT TO READ A HOLIDAY STORY! It's BORING or I'm JEALOUS (or both) and I understand. BUT -- for those who wish to know where we went and what we did, and hear how I nearly lost my kidneys but failed to get my hands on Jimmy Choo, read on.<br />
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(I'm writing in days, so I can keep it all straight. Hence, there'll be a few posts)<br />
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(and a lot of photos)<br />
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<b><u>DAY ONE</u></b><br />
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We got up at 3 am, and drove up to Perth to the airport. This was sorta fun and exciting for a time, then I wanted more sleep. Too bad for me.<br />
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You can tell I was tired and excited by the blurry photo. Looked fine to my weary eyes.</div>
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Sunrise!! haven't seen one of them for a LONG time.</div>
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Then, of course, we found ourselves driving INTO the sun (nice)</div>
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and I MAY have nearly wet myself when we got to the airport.</div>
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(I said, NEARLY)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMSXIgf74R6k502_eMqR2l5pzIDm9iwcvKYh-TS0yM7FjnYffURKMJYDA9A0AeRzcYzBUsLqBEdL2VU9ZirBNctVcy1pEeQJG5C-_Wg91ne_P2ikKTyJkUxplwhlculntGCJwfOWc1n9t/s1600/IMG_2645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikMSXIgf74R6k502_eMqR2l5pzIDm9iwcvKYh-TS0yM7FjnYffURKMJYDA9A0AeRzcYzBUsLqBEdL2VU9ZirBNctVcy1pEeQJG5C-_Wg91ne_P2ikKTyJkUxplwhlculntGCJwfOWc1n9t/s1600/IMG_2645.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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WHAAAAT??? doesn't EVERYONE take their Pilly on holidays?</div>
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Bags secured (no Corby moments for us)</div>
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and we settled ourselves in for the 5 hour flight to Singapore.</div>
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Pretty exciting for me -- my first trip overseas, our first trip with no kids.... I was like a puppy with two shoes to chew.<br />
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I watched Captain Phillips on the way over. Heading for a cruise ship. Yuh - huh. Began thinking about pirates and hoping they would like the casino too much to worry about my little gold bangles.<br />
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We hit Singapore early, and made it through Customs and Immigration very quickly and with no dramas. <br />
(My sisters, the previous day, got the snarkiest officials ever. One sneered at Sissy's 'brand-new passport' and one was rude to Ker, and then offered her husband candy!!)<br />
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We were ushered out of the airport by tiny little old men and women wearing brown jackets and white gloves. They-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed point the way and hustle you along if you're not quick enough, and they also wave mysterious and instantly obeyed commands at taxis so that no-one is waiting for more than a few seconds. I resolved to smuggle a few home to Perth airport but my bag was too securely wrapped.<br />
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Our taxi was clean and smelled of nothing, and the fare was amazingly cheap compared to Australia. the driver barely spoke English so we resorted to OOH-ing and AHHH-ing out the window.<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">Here is some of what we OOH-ed and AHHH-ed at:</span><br />
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This is something like the London Eye, a great big Ferris Wheel that you can see probably the whole of Asia from. I wanted to go in it but we didn't have time (a phrase you will hear a lot of!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInyQ8Gg5Ms7Y3tBiASyRCF9fFD_xJY-TWA_iIXcA9sRpdfVGCxexHdYjoNV921CYPUe2szKQG2OQvocf2Y7VV9qDw-MW1afWOlVW0AnMc52Mx4XQ77f9-TUQPOTzW3nOHU1zA7b9elSr2/s1600/IMG_2652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInyQ8Gg5Ms7Y3tBiASyRCF9fFD_xJY-TWA_iIXcA9sRpdfVGCxexHdYjoNV921CYPUe2szKQG2OQvocf2Y7VV9qDw-MW1afWOlVW0AnMc52Mx4XQ77f9-TUQPOTzW3nOHU1zA7b9elSr2/s1600/IMG_2652.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And this building is a magnificent creation, very art deco and fully swish.<br />
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At the hotel, I had this delightful package waiting for me:<br />
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(that is my sister, Ker) (I unaccountably failed to get a photo of her husband)<br />
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We caught up over drinks and dinner, joined at some point by Sissy and her husband, who had had the adventure of a lifetime. <br />
After taking what turned out to be a ONE WAY ONLY tri-shaw ride by a skinny little man who clearly felt it was going to be too much effort to pedal two well-fed Australians back to their hotel, they were taken on a 'shopping trip' by their taxi driver -- which involved skulking down alleyways while gates clanged shut behind them.<br />
They emerged with some nice gold jewellery, and two prizes -- a watch for Him, and a Jimmy Choo bag for Her.<br />
The watch was something of a surprise for all involved. BIL stops all watches after a day or two. Even my sister has stopped wearing hers, because he stops it as well. They're not broken -- if he goes away, the watch will start working again -- they just won't go while he's around. Weird, huh?<br />
And Jimmy immediately became the star of the trip. You'll see.<br />
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We were knackered by now. Fabio wandered away and managed to find some milk for morning coffees.<br />
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And we hit the sack. I don't even remember falling asleep.</div>
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-39307907532955778722014-01-06T09:06:00.000+08:002014-01-06T09:06:10.594+08:00newA new year.<br />
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January always brings such hopes, doesn't it?<br />
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We promise ourselves new beginnings, new projects, new plans, and some of those we even manage to keep for a while.<br />
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I've given up on new years' resolutions. I don't think one ever made it to February.<br />
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There are lots of things I would like to achieve this year -- losing some weight (working on it), learning to use my camera, getting back to budgeting sensibly, and teaching the kids to cook.<br />
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But I'm not resolving to do any of them, because that's a recipe for disaster for me.<br />
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Instead, I'll simply say these are some of the things I would like to do, and we'll see how I go.<br />
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What about you? are you brave enough to make resolutions? or are there just some things you'd like to try?<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-91546079223375839422013-10-22T08:58:00.002+08:002013-10-22T08:58:19.559+08:00U is for UnitedToday's insightful wisdom is brought to you by one of my favourite philosophers, the Legendary John Cougar Mellencamp, who famously said:<br />
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Everybody has got the choice between hotdogs and hamburgers.<br />
Everyone of us has got to choose<br />
Between right and wrong<br />
And giving up<br />
Or holding on.<br />
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*****<br />
<br />
While some people I know are mystified that I would plaster my life on Facebook, telling the world all my secrets, I find it works as therapy.<br />
When I say, "I'm having a bad day." or "I feel like a failure." my Facebook friends will fill up a page with love and support. Some might see that as a cry for attention.... well, yes, it is.<br />
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My friends are all genuine people. There is no teen angst going on here, no showing-off or trying to get some boy to show an interest.<br />
When I cry for help, it's because I need it.<br />
Even when I can't say what the problem is, my friends rally round. They lift my heart when it feels to heavy for me to lift myself.<br />
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They say delicious things, they remind me that all is not lost, they make me laugh, and sometimes cry a little.<br />
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And they do it with the written word. They take the time to type out a response, and if you think that's easy, you don't have predictive text on your phone.<br />
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There is great power in the written word. Seeing something in black and white is concrete. Comfort expressed on paper (or a screen) lasts a very long time.<br />
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*****<br />
<br />
Sometime in life we all need a friend to help us. We can't always do it ourselves. <br />
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Maybe we need someone to help us hold on, or to catch us when we fall.<br />
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Or maybe you will get the chance to BE that friend. <br />
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Never ever underestimate the worth of a kind word or gesture when someone you know is in trouble.<br />
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<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-78074721293313574002013-10-15T09:05:00.000+08:002013-10-15T09:31:49.730+08:00T is for THANKFULThere's a character in a book (one of the Otherland books by Tad Williams) where a guy has a music chip in his head so he can listen to music all day long presumably without damaging his eardrums.<br />
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I would so do that if I could. (this guy turns out to be a pyschopathic killer but I'm pretty sure the music is incidental - however, best look into that further before surgery)<br />
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I feel like there should be a soundtrack to my life.<br />
I have songs for everything -- not just wedding and funeral songs, everyone has those, right? but songs for parties and songs for driving and songs for cleaning and songs for sad.<br />
I have the song picked out for my husband in case he carks it. (please God, not this century).<br />
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I have ringtones for people on my phone (Fabio's is the Superman theme song) and songs for people on Facebook (in my head, since Facebook has so far failed spectacularly to arrange ringtones).<br />
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So you get that music means something to me, it's not just background noise but rather, I connect with it in my spirit. It calms me down or lifts me up, just like it probably does for you, too.<br />
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This morning, one of my Facebook friends asked for good news, cos she wasn't seeing any on the tv or in the papers, so people have been telling little snippets of things that make you smile. It's really lovely.<br />
Many of those things are tiny, maybe easy to skip over if you're in a bad mood or busy. But the truth is, there's usually good news around us all day, every day -- it's just that we don't see it. <br />
I am trying (with varying degrees of success) to see the good instead of the gloomy, and it helps a bit with those depressed days I have during my cycle.<br />
<br />
For me, one of the surest ways to start looking for the little things is to play THIS SONG while I'm driving. I sing at the top of my lungs and I look around me and I <b>see</b>.<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/0irdrHUx3Sw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Today, I saw a mum and a dad walking the kids to school, holding hands and talking and laughing. How good is that?<br />
<br />
I saw kids running into the schoolyard greeting friends they haven't seen for two weeks.<br />
<br />
I saw builders working on two houses that we've been driving past twice a day since the lots were empty. The roof is going on both houses and I smiled to myself, thinking how excited the owners must be feeling now.<br />
<br />
I saw people checking the new plants by the side of the highway, out in the sunshine amongst the bees (and mosquitoes), instead of cooped up in an office somewhere.<br />
<br />
I saw magpies and cute little songbirds hopping around looking for breakfast.<br />
<br />
I saw people walking their dogs and a guy mowing his lawn.<br />
<br />
None of this is earth-shattering stuff. It's just people (and birds) going about their daily business, small doings in a big world.<br />
<br />
But to me, it's also a beautiful world.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img align="left" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
PS listen to the song.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-83427589865500706962013-09-14T20:25:00.003+08:002013-09-14T20:25:45.318+08:00s is for sneering
<div>
What is it with sneery people, anyway? what the fuck is wrong with them?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let me tell you a little story. It's kind of pathetic. Brace yourself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One time, we had to go to Kalgoorlie for some reason, and Fabio had to go do some boring Man Shit, so I asked him to drop me and the kids at Harvey Norman. (Kalgoorlie is not filled with cheap, family friendly activities).</div>
<div>
So we wandered around looking at furniture I couldn't buy, and enjoying the pretty doona covers and bedroom settings, as you do when you live in the middle of Fuck-All in a hideous little house -- and we happened across a particularly loud red and blue doona cover. <br /><br />Small child asked, "Do you like that one, Mum?"<br />"Ugh, no," I said. "That's terrible."<br /><br />Behind me, Sneery SmartArse was out shopping with his friends, obviously a couple, although he was on his own, for reasons which will become obvious at any moment.<br /><br />"OOOH!: he said, loudly, adopting a Dickhead-pretending-to-be-gay voice, "That's TERRIBLE! OOOOH and THAT'S TERRIBLE!! and so is that! and THAT!! AND THAT!!!!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because he was (is) a Sneery Person.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAHX_IuBmLiwKknKKDRaQFh4h_J8bWKjz_yQ69WYoDrk4q0kOnIa06R737hg6WXUDkjvVcj6utmNmZpJ68lA0FjpWVkJDYUsxszSbYKj6F-UanJRI2n3el78OOcxrebS6RflAGQiOJcId/s1600/quote-the-most-insignificant-people-are-the-most-apt-to-sneer-at-others-they-are-safe-from-reprisals-william-hazlitt-81793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeAHX_IuBmLiwKknKKDRaQFh4h_J8bWKjz_yQ69WYoDrk4q0kOnIa06R737hg6WXUDkjvVcj6utmNmZpJ68lA0FjpWVkJDYUsxszSbYKj6F-UanJRI2n3el78OOcxrebS6RflAGQiOJcId/s320/quote-the-most-insignificant-people-are-the-most-apt-to-sneer-at-others-they-are-safe-from-reprisals-william-hazlitt-81793.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
That one brief moment crushed me then, and still does whenever I think of it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
I grew up with these idiots and I allowed them to make me feel inferior. I second-guessed myself and I stopped doing things I loved because they weren't 'cool'.</div>
<div>
<br />Now I wonder what the hell I let them do that to me for?<br />Because they're idiots. They do not deserve that much space in my head.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, I have to say, people still sneer at me today. They might pretend they don't, but I know. I am not as stupid, or as deaf, as they might hope. <br /><br />And I am trying not to care, because <b>I like me a whole lot better than I like them</b>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will not let them win.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-84751292248132006112013-06-09T13:42:00.002+08:002013-06-09T13:42:39.482+08:00r is for re-bootMy husband just bought me a new laptop; the old one was dying and refused to start without some help in the mornings (much like myself).<br />
<br />
My old lappie was about 6 -- and ran on Vista -- meaning that I've not only had to contend with swapping all my stuff over from Old Faithful to New Unknown, I've also had to battle a new OS -- the dreaded Windows 8.<br />
<br />
Add in that we bought a new printer, too -- one that prints WIRELESSLY -- and you'll see that I have had my head turned inside out with all the New Learnings and Figuring Outs.<br />
<br />
For a while, each new task meant that I had to work out a bunch of other things as well, and it took me so long just to do each small thing (like, to add desktop shortcuts to my favourite websites took about 2 hours. Not. Even. Kidding.)<br />
<br />
However, I'm on the downhill slope now YAY<br />
<br />
and I'm not completely driven mad.<br />
<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-14489953527320765312013-05-20T16:15:00.000+08:002013-05-20T16:15:47.712+08:00Q is for quibble and quarrelToday, I made a boo-boo. I am cranky, probably hormonal, and I should have stayed off the internet.<br />
<br />
Or at least, NOT engaged in on-line 'discussions'. Particularly, those involving politics or the demonisation of Gina Rinehart.<br />
<br />
But no.<br />
<br />
Today, I acted like this was my first ever day on the internet, and I'd never come across trolls before.<br />
<br />
I argued my point, and only served to prove the maxim<br />
<br />
<b>arguing with an idiot on the internet only proves there are two idiots.</b><br />
<br />
I ended up apologising, at which point the troll said, "Oh, I'm bored now, bye bye." thus proving <br />
<br />
a) yes, troll <br />
<br />
and b) I wasted an hour of my morning.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am desperately hoping not to compound the issue tomorrow. Might look at funny cat videos instead.<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-62880166597661552652013-04-29T20:22:00.001+08:002013-04-29T20:22:22.911+08:00I can't tell if it's her or me.I am sitting at my computer when my 8 year old daughter stomps past.<br />
<br />
KLOMP! KLOMP! KLOMP! KLOMP! KLOMP!<br />
<br />
Here is the conversation that ensued.<br />
<br />
me: "Are you angry?"<br />
<br />
8 yo : "YES!"<br />
<br />
me: "Why?"<br />
<br />
8 yo: "Because (my brother) is being MEAN TO ME!!!!!!!!" (this is some sort of criminal offence)<br />
<br />
me: "What is he doing?"<br />
<br />
8 yo: "He's not letting me DO WHAT I WANT TO DO!!!!!!!!!" (also a criminal offence)<br />
<br />
me: "Well, what did you want to do?"<br />
<br />
8 yo: "I want to play that my imaginary friend is in my body; and he is FORCING HER OUT!!!!"<br />
<br />
So. Is my 11 year old son an exorcist? is my daughter an drama queen? am I slowly going crazy here?<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-55479747108234904622013-04-27T09:19:00.001+08:002013-04-27T09:19:21.722+08:00love me like a zombie manLast night, Fabio and I were watching The Walking Dead, which is a TV series about zombies.<br />
<br />
In one scene, one poor man was trying to gather the courage to shoot his zombied wife, and he just couldn't do it.<br />
<br />
I asked Fabio:<br />
"If I got zombified, would you shoot me in the head?"<br />
<br />
His reply? "Right between the eyes."<br />
<br />
me: thankyou.<br />
<br />
Fabio: My pleasure, babe.<br />
<br />
Then we looked at each other and roared laughing.<br />
<br />
Now that's romance, folks.<br />
<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-55291940114538118142013-04-25T05:00:00.000+08:002013-04-25T05:00:04.637+08:00lest we forgetTonight, I'm making a traditional roast lamb with veg and rosemary, and a rice pudding for dessert, just like Nana used to make. It's the most Australian meal I can think of, and I wonder how many of our soldiers dreamed of a similar meal while they lay in their trenches and field tents?<br />
<br />
Christmas and Easter are lots of fun, true, but if Australians have a holy day, this is it. ANZAC Day. The day we remember.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/G-Pz5KsyfN0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
In the heartbeat that follows the first two notes of the Last Post, a true Aussies' skin is humped up in goosebumps, as we recall the boys who lost their lives and limbs fighting wars in far-away lands.<br />
<br />
We remember their shining faces, their innocence and joy, their enthusiasm for the fight -- and the letters and telegrams that came with news that crushed their families.<br />
<br />
We remember the children growing up with no dad, wives growing tired with no husband, mothers growing older with no sons. We remember the sacrifice made by mothers and fathers and wives, knowing their boys might be lost overseas, never to lie in the good red earth of their homeland.<br />
<br />
We remember those who came home, weary and heartsick at the things they had seen and done. <br />
<br />
We remember those wounded and the nurses and medicos who cared for them, we remember the pilots and sailors and mechanics and drivers and officers and cooks. We remember them all.<br />
<br />
The only time you will ever see an Australian crowd quiet and respectful, is at an ANZAC Day service. The weight of all those years, all those young men, all that blood -- we feel it.<br />
Each year, as the number of diggers grows ever smaller, the crowd grows ever larger, swelled by those who proudly march for uncles and fathers and grandfathers.<br />
<br />
Our soldiers are the true heroes of this nations' heart. <br />
<br />
And we will remember them.<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-86908132924241470222013-04-21T22:02:00.003+08:002013-04-21T22:04:34.322+08:00P is for.....politics.<br />
<br />
I'm on the Other Side from most bloggers. I'm one of those weirdos who believe in conservatism, in free markets, in small governments, in more personal accountability, in more opportunities, and less interference.<br />
<br />
I believe that you should be able to speak your mind freely, provided you are not breaking any of the already existent laws prohibiting hate speech, racism, or sexism; that if others take offense, that is sad, but a small price to pay for the freedom to speak my mind.<br />
<br />
I believe that if you want to ride a bike (as an adult) without wearing a helmet, then you should be allowed to. That if you want to smoke (or produce cigarettes) you should be allowed to do so without interference from politicians, UNTIL such time as it is unlawful to do so.<br />
<br />
I believe that if you want to start a small business, you should be given every opportunity to do so. If you fail, you fail, and should not be bailed out, but if you succeed, then you should be rewarded for your time, your resources, your sacrifice.<br />
<br />
I believe that charity begins at home; that if people are able to pay their own bills and look after themselves first, they will have money left over to help take care of others; that if we use government to enforce charity, then people will expect government to do it all.<br />
<br />
I believe in Australians taking care of the vulnerable in THIS country first, and those in need overseas second.<br />
<br />
I believe in rewarding hard work, and making opportunity for greatness to flourish, but not in propping up the arts with tax-payers money.<br />
<br />
I believe in allowing those who need a sanctuary to come here, but not in opening our borders to anyone with a boat.<br />
<br />
I believe in punishment to suit the crime; that criminals should be punished, and their victims recompensed.<br />
<br />
I believe that if a woman manages to become Prime Minister, she should be congratulated for a job well done, not lauded for merely being a woman. If she has to keep screaming about how hard it is to be a woman in politics, she doesn't have the balls to lead this country in a time of real crisis.<br />
<br />
I believe Australia is still the Lucky Country. But I believe it has been let down badly, by a very bad government. And my hope is that all that will change on September 14th.<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-55162477540025566212013-04-19T11:35:00.000+08:002013-04-19T11:35:08.022+08:00while shopping....* two people commented on my T-shirt.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.androzani.com/big10b.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="http://www.androzani.com/big10b.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
This led to animated discussions over 10 and 11. No-one mentioned 9. Sorry, Chris.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQblOstMZs8kSRNRt7IpO8BTKApHnkYB8HxH4G_LLENHmCxtzpndQ" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQblOstMZs8kSRNRt7IpO8BTKApHnkYB8HxH4G_LLENHmCxtzpndQ" /></a><br />
<br />
* the guy in the deli at Woollies was wearing a name-badge that said KILLER.<br />
<br />
When I blinked, it said KALEB.<br />
<br />
I'll be watching him closely.<br />
<br />
* a cute little girl with her hair in blonde pigtails skipped up the footpath, chattering to herself. Everyone smiled, and got out of her way.<br />
<br />
* a lady hopped out of her car, singing happily. Everyone smiled.<br />
<br />
* a bloke in the checkout disputed his change (I think he was right) and was so rude, he made the checkout chick cry.<br />
<br />
The disputed amount of change? five cents.<br />
<br />
What a hero.<br />
<br />
* at the lights, the car in front of me, and the car beside me, both stalled when the lights went green. Within a heartbeat, people were beeping horns and shouting. I'm so glad it wasn't me.<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-24800610122251802892013-04-18T17:43:00.001+08:002013-04-18T17:43:12.650+08:00O -- the guiltThe Princess woke up this morning, sooky and complaining. (this is not a completely foreign start to the day for her.)<br />
<br />
She said she felt unwell. I checked. Slight temp, possibly imagination. She said she had a headache. No way I could check that, so I gave her Panadol and sent her to school.<br />
<br />
Of course, now she has a higher temp, and she's flushed, with a headache AND a sore 'neck', and a bit of a cough. She should have been in bed today, not spreading her cold to all her classmates.<br />
<br />
Guilt. I has it.<br />
<p><img style="border:0;" align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png"/> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-30111897767652236682013-04-11T09:51:00.000+08:002013-04-11T09:51:04.054+08:00not for sissies. (N)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY2bhfZAgNBl28kSJTRaE1YpgYMkpoF6DA9eNOhD19uGs_V2jBbpjB-3N8PHfcHbQQ5RrLl6jXIHJdACNT8TDNOeefj9MEEm83com-R6kkQpxVSInmPKmx5c6gmKJur0DRnxVbo3Xhzs/s400/STRUT.bmp" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY2bhfZAgNBl28kSJTRaE1YpgYMkpoF6DA9eNOhD19uGs_V2jBbpjB-3N8PHfcHbQQ5RrLl6jXIHJdACNT8TDNOeefj9MEEm83com-R6kkQpxVSInmPKmx5c6gmKJur0DRnxVbo3Xhzs/s400/STRUT.bmp" /></a><br />
<br />
Over the last few years, my 'stuff' has really started to pack it in.<br />
<br />
I've had to upgrade my glasses, because I was making that face my dad makes when he's trying to read something. You know the one.<br />
<br />
My hips are knackered, my knees are buggered. I can't hear half the stuff my kids say, and my hands hurt by the end of the day.<br />
<br />
Growing older is tough.<br />
<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" />
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Make the bed, so the sheets are smooth and the doona fluffy. Pile up pillows and head-rests into a kind of mountain.<br />
<br />
2. Assemble the necessities. A good book (or preferably, a big pile of them), a cup of tea, <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.lovetea.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/MG_6250.2-1024x682.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://www.lovetea.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/MG_6250.2-1024x682.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
a book-seat if you have one, some good lighting, and your glasses if you need them. <br />
Some munchies if you MUST. (these tend to get very comfortable in bed, and settle on your stomach and butt, refusing to budge, so be careful.) <br />
<br />
3. Prepare yourself. Take a bath or a shower, apply some pretty lotion, get your nightie on.<br />
<br />
4. Climb into bed and get very comfy. I recommend propping yourself up, so that this doesn't happen<br />
<br />
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgo13yITnN1qed0x5o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgo13yITnN1qed0x5o1_500.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
however, take your chances if you prefer to read flat on your back.<br />
<br />
5. Bliss out.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://bookishnerddotcom.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/something-good-to-read-in-bed.jpg?w=474&h=355" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://bookishnerddotcom.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/something-good-to-read-in-bed.jpg?w=474&h=355" /></a><br />
<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-69965295553410145532013-04-07T05:00:00.000+08:002013-04-07T05:00:02.040+08:00shut the doorMy two-at-home-kids are not yet door-slammers.<br />
<br />
My older kids were. One time each. There is a cure.<br />
<br />
One I bet my mum wished she had known about, because I was a Champion Door-Slammer. Defiant, loud, deliberate. SLAM.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT5GIWE9ANUjuf_cLtCcdwa1-9DAEYXRTR8hFueLM_4TCuPcbLK" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT5GIWE9ANUjuf_cLtCcdwa1-9DAEYXRTR8hFueLM_4TCuPcbLK" /></a><br />
<br />
And Mum had not just me to contend with, but also my two sisters. <br />
There's only 3 years between us all (well 35 months, if you want to get technical) and that <strike>must</strike> might have been cute when we were little and people used to mistake us for twins and a singlet.<br />
However, when puberty hit, it hit hard. I was a cantankerous and moody bitch, so nothing much has changed there, but the sisters followed closely behind.<br />
<br />
To the best of my recollection, one slammed occasionally, the other saw it as a personal challenge when doors remained on their hinges. Just like me. (so proud)<br />
<br />
However, no WAY was I going to allow my own kids to slam doors! I devised an Evil Plan.<br />
If they slammed a door, I made them open and close it 10 times quietly.<br />
<br />
Instant cure.<br />
<br />
Bet you wish you'd thought of that in time to cure me, Mum. XXX<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-90830629393184807982013-04-06T05:00:00.000+08:002013-04-06T05:00:02.247+08:00washingA friend and I were talking about laundries the other day, as you do.<br />
<br />
I have a new laundry, albeit a rented one, and it has a ROTARY clothesline (BLISS! alright, RENTED bliss) that stands in it's own patch of very soft, green, grass. There are no trees overhead, so no bird poo on the washing. <br />
<br />
I often hear magpies, kookaburras and cows. They are not rented, thankfully -- just a part of the Ambience Package that came with the house.<br />
<br />
Granted, the clothesline stands on the edge of a 2 foot drop, so I have to be careful not to blindly follow the washing around the line, but that's a small price to pay for the pleasure I get, hanging the wet washing and bringing in the dry.<br />
<br />
Because it is a pleasure. The grass underfoot, the breeze, the sounds of animal life, the smell of sun-dried cotton, all combine to put me in a Happy Place.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.lifestyleclotheslines.com.au/product_images/uploaded_images/istock-000001891078xsmall.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://www.lifestyleclotheslines.com.au/product_images/uploaded_images/istock-000001891078xsmall.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
It was not always so.<br />
<br />
My last laundry (also rented) was an afterthought, jammed into a space between the kitchen and the carport. Still, it was serviceable. The clothesline was not.<br />
It was one of those horrible clacketty things you pull down from the wall (in this case, sometimes literally) and the wires were actually wires. <br />
Forget your plastic-covered, easy-to-clean convenience. This stuff had road grime, birdpoo and cobwebs entrenched in every inch. <br />
As an added bonus, it had snarly frizzy wires that had almost managed to escape, and these would stab me in the fingers or poke holes in the cloth if I allowed my attention to wander.<br />
<br />
Unsurprisingly, my dryer got a big workout in that house.<br />
<br />
My friend has that same kind of clothesline. (cousins, we think)<br />
And we talked about how we avoid using the laundries and clotheslines if they're ugly or dirty or just plain don't work.<br />
<br />
I have a dream laundry in mind if I ever build. It will have bench space for folding, and hanging space for drip-dry. It will have plenty of room to move, and no doors that open over each other.<br />
<br />
And I want a clothesline just like the one I have now.<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-60284413688197033992013-04-05T09:58:00.001+08:002013-04-05T10:20:30.725+08:00mM is for<br />
<br />
NO I DON'T HAVE A MOBILE.<br />
<br />
NO I DON'T WANT A MOBILE.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.clker.com/cliparts/e/e/4/f/1206558994350927690taber_No_Cell_Phones_Allowed.svg.med.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://www.clker.com/cliparts/e/e/4/f/1206558994350927690taber_No_Cell_Phones_Allowed.svg.med.png" /></a><br />
<br />
I'm constantly being <strike>harrassed</strike> <strike>told</strike> harrassed by my friends that I should have a mobile.<br />
<br />
Well, I do have one, but it's out of charge, out of credit, and I don't know where it is.<br />
<br />
Well, I do know where it is, but I'm not getting it.<br />
<br />
I hate the bloody things.<br />
<br />
For lots of reasons, none of which make any sense to most people.<br />
<br />
I don't like it that someone could ring me at any time on it. If I'm out shopping, or enjoying time with my family, or on a date with my husband, or whatever, I <b>don't want phone calls</b>. And I don't want the extra hassle of remembering to turn it off and on, so don't offer that as a solution, please. <br />
There are plenty of times when I just want peace and quiet, to be alone with myself, to think or to just be. I don't need phone calls in the middle of that. It jangles me.<br />
<br />
I don't like it that when I'm enjoying time with someone, and their phone rings or dings, EVEN IF they are polite enough not to answer it, their eyes dart to it constantly, and their fingers twitch. You know what that says to me? it says that I am not interesting enough to hold your attention.<br />
Thanks.<br />
<br />
You know the worst part about that? my husband does it. I know it's for work. I know it could be a call to say that one of our guys has been hurt or something horrible. BUT. I feel shunted aside. And it spoils the entire outing.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://i1.wp.com/globetrottingenglish.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/397976_492249764151056_1903326207_n.jpg?resize=354%2C380" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://i1.wp.com/globetrottingenglish.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/397976_492249764151056_1903326207_n.jpg?resize=354%2C380" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSOqWOgpmBByKr8Z3PWk-kN07v37phcIGR15p9AYTO_CH3jnbOCUw" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSOqWOgpmBByKr8Z3PWk-kN07v37phcIGR15p9AYTO_CH3jnbOCUw" /></a><br />
<br />
I think I'm pretty good at keeping in touch with people. I have a LANDLINE, which you can call me on at any (normal) hour, and I have Facebook. I don't think I need to attach myself to a phone 24/7. <br />
<br />
Here's another thing that absolutely drives me crazy. <br />
<br />
IF YOU'RE DRIVING, AND THE PHONE GOES OFF, DON'T ANSWER IT! Seriously. What is the WORST that could happen if you ignore the call until you get where you're going? if you're concerned that it might be urgent, PULL OVER.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.inlandvalleynews.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Family-Texting-While-Driving.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.inlandvalleynews.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Family-Texting-While-Driving.jpg" width="370" /></a><br />
<br />
<b>NO PHONE CALL IS WORTH YOUR LIFE, OR SOMEONE ELSES, IN A CAR ACCIDENT.</b><br />
<br />
And the worst part about that?<br />
<br />
My husband, who is a fairly sensible bloke in every other way, can't pull over. He fiddles with calls and even reads text messages while driving. I love him to bits but I want to smack him every time he does it. He could kill someone. He could kill himself. For a frigging text message.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4Z74urYmWWVZGZ03Wwwx24HJfPLI206xmNlynXFZbOxWTeGMXNuAxKksAhOu_xotMNm_Byg3CUtWBVM5dTf722cYiUNrZzr4bmAIqXI4li4pGGQh1pISD5e2VKwbuJDmRhT7HvfcLZUt/s1600/txt+messaging+lol.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4Z74urYmWWVZGZ03Wwwx24HJfPLI206xmNlynXFZbOxWTeGMXNuAxKksAhOu_xotMNm_Byg3CUtWBVM5dTf722cYiUNrZzr4bmAIqXI4li4pGGQh1pISD5e2VKwbuJDmRhT7HvfcLZUt/s320/txt+messaging+lol.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
So, no, for all intents and purposes, I do not have a mobile. And I won't be getting one.<br />
<br />
<end rant=""><br />
<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> </end>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8640337113047435688.post-83018548622741722952013-03-31T10:05:00.000+08:002013-03-31T10:06:01.555+08:00Location, location, locationHave you seen <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_of_Thrones">Game of Thrones</a> yet? It's a series based on George Martin's books, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire">A Song Of Ice and Fire</a>.<br />
<br />
We just got season 2 on DVD, and have been trying to watch as much as possible before Fabio goes back to work.<br />
<br />
One of the most amazing things about the series is it's attention to detail. The costumes, the hairstyles, the languages (at least one was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dothraki_language">specifically written</a> for the show)-- and the amazing locations used for filming.<br />
Although some of the scenes are shot in studios, the crew have made location almost another cast member. Much like Lord of the Rings being filmed in New Zealand, the stunning scenery is used to great effect, and it comes as a surprise to realise that some of the exotic locations from the show are actually real places right here on Earth.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lze1ggYfXS1qgsa1m.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lze1ggYfXS1qgsa1m.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.caughtonset.com/wp-content/themes/CaughtonSet/_timthumb.php?src=http://www.caughtonset.com/wp-content/gallery/game-of-thrones-july-29/6001244601_6eeb75ac8b_b.jpg&w=540" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="284" src="http://www.caughtonset.com/wp-content/themes/CaughtonSet/_timthumb.php?src=http://www.caughtonset.com/wp-content/gallery/game-of-thrones-july-29/6001244601_6eeb75ac8b_b.jpg&w=540" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://cdn.hbowatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Croatia-Game-Of-Thrones-Filmed.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://cdn.hbowatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Croatia-Game-Of-Thrones-Filmed.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-RLaPWVlN0Z5Cv7GDxvImbFSD8JF8_M9fIBsufKEM1cZZG_e7-G9iNdWB04_nERgE0GSl56k3lFtc2SewriUjwVzJY6U30wMU8YNXBncLoxZMntSpW1N5MNicg9tTpLu9X_CVfkf0fht/s1600/croatia-dubrovnik-duringtheevening-300x200.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-RLaPWVlN0Z5Cv7GDxvImbFSD8JF8_M9fIBsufKEM1cZZG_e7-G9iNdWB04_nERgE0GSl56k3lFtc2SewriUjwVzJY6U30wMU8YNXBncLoxZMntSpW1N5MNicg9tTpLu9X_CVfkf0fht/s320/croatia-dubrovnik-duringtheevening-300x200.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8sFKjpuUOnE1kelmrifBxg0VdIAFHDrpuQnNNkPlz7VQOdIxIW6OSgGvdyjQzJss767CmncgxH75S11U7RmPWfHwniNg1jmKwe92vfqRCw7RoTDG4Y1SQolzEuEZaYqx-wRbcdmp3oel/s1600/gozoazurewindow-300x200.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8sFKjpuUOnE1kelmrifBxg0VdIAFHDrpuQnNNkPlz7VQOdIxIW6OSgGvdyjQzJss767CmncgxH75S11U7RmPWfHwniNg1jmKwe92vfqRCw7RoTDG4Y1SQolzEuEZaYqx-wRbcdmp3oel/s320/gozoazurewindow-300x200.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
It adds believability, when the snow falling on <a href="http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Night%E2%80%99s_Watch">The Nights' Watch</a> is real snow, in a real wilderness.<br />
I think I have to add "visit the Game of Thrones locations' to my Bucket List. Want to come along?<br />
<img align="left" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm278/tones65/my%20blog%20stuff/siggiepeaRoni.png" style="border: 0;" /> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2