love words

Yesterday, my man came wandering into the kitchen where I was faffing around.

He took me in his arms, and kissed me, slowly and romantically.

Still holding me in the circle of his arms, he gazed lovingly into my eyes and murmured, "Do we have any ham?"

Yes, it was lunchtime....

it's a kids' world around here.

A couple of weeks ago, we found ourselves in a local toyshop, which has a dollshouse set up on a little table.
There's furniture and some Little People (of the non-dwarf kind) to live in it, and The Princess threw herself on the floor in front of it and gazed longingly for all the time it took me to say, "You're allowed to play with that, sweetie."
Then she was like an octopus, trying to play with everything at once.

A chubby, petulant 8/9 year old came stomping over, slapped the table and demanded loudly, "What are you supposed to do with this? What does it DO?"

I was dumbfounded. For all kinds of reasons. As you all would have been.

But it got me thinking about imagination. And here is proof that kids don't need electronics to have fun.

Meet Pilot Gingie. She sports a fancy cap designed and made by The Princess, who coincidentally built her plane as well. I accidentally threw the plane out and it had to be rescued, with much scolding. The cap has ear holes cut into it, so it stays on Gingies' head. Clever.

And this is what happens when Boy Meets Lego.

This is an airplane hangar. The plane is from an Indiana Jones set, but the rest is right out of Mr. 9s' imagination.

There are spare tyres, for the inevitable flats, and even a guy who's clearly been listening to his OH&S rep, because he's wearing protective headgear.

There's a crane for lifting those heavy darn wings into place.

And there's a giant to winch the crane. Everything you need, really.

So -- I'd love to see other posts on kids' imaginations. Any takers?

the Kings' Speech

Bloody splendid.

The actors are all superb -- of course -- Mr Rush is in marvellous form, and Colin Firth is simply perfect. All the supporting cast are fabulous, and the sets and costumes are beautiful.

Our movie theatre was fairly full with NOT ONE smart-arse teenager (huge bonus) and I really enjoyed hearing so much appreciative laughter rolling around the room. This isn't a 'Hollywood funny' movie - the humour is dry and very English somehow.

I really can't recommend this movie enough. If you haven't seen it, go. I'm giving it 6 rubber duckies --- out of 5. Yes, it's that good.

John the Blowie

You know when a blowie gets in your house and buzzes around and around, driving you mad? And then it vanishes when you find the fly-spray, and as soon as you give up it re-appears?

My GF had a BF like that.

His name is John (really) and this is what happened.

John was (most likely still is) a control freak in a relationship. He was (most likely still is) a carrier of the worst kind of STD -- Sexually Transmitted Debt. He wasn't a kid-friendly guy, had no job, no prospects, no clue how to run a relationship or, indeed, his life.
Understandably, my GF -- let's call her E -- got jack of this and kicked him out. The problem being, John, like a blowie, wouldn't go.

It's hard to put into words just how much he wouldn't go away.

He physically wouldn't leave, and then when he finally did drive off, he kept coming back.
He rang constantly. E was reluctant to answer the phone, so he would ring and ring and ring and ring until she did.
He took the sliding glass door off its' tracks one night and let himself in, which scared the crap out of E, who had thought she was safe in her own home.
He crept around in the dark under my windows, listening in to our conversations.
He followed us around town, mysteriously appearing in the shops we were in.

He even disabled her car in the main street, so she couldn't drive away from him.

Of course, we went to the police, and took out a restraining order. Which he promptly breached, not once, but again and again.

One time, he broke into her house and destroyed my much-loved grandmother clock, which Es' dad had repaired for me.
We went to see his (much more sane) brother, to see if he could help, and John was there. We snapped. I grabbed him but E got her arm over the top of me and slapped him so hard his glasses flew off and folded themselves up in mid-air, landing neatly on the nearby table, as if to say, "Oh, no, I really don't want to see what happens next!"

Finally, the police took him on stalker charges. We appeared in court, and gave evidence, and at last, he was put in jail.
We weren't overly happy about the jail part, but we were thrilled to bits that after all this time, we could finally know exactly where he was, and not have to think about him every minute of the day!

Until the letters started arriving from jail.... he gave my name and address to his CELL-MATE, who was in clink for 6 years and would love to come see me when he got out!!!
I countered that problem by getting married and moving house (thanks, honey)

He drove us completely bat-shit for a while. But I'm so thankful that at no time did he actually hurt us -- and I don't remember being afraid that he would, even at the very height of it all. (although I was very concerned about Cell Mate.)
There are women out there who are living with much worse every day, and while we can laugh about the whole mad episode now, for many, it's not a laughing matter. Ever.
It's never OK to bully, intimidate, hurt or frighten people.
(I'm cool if someone wants to intimidate Cell Mate though)

and this is why we have a dog.

SECRET CAT DIARY

DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.

The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from shredding the occasional piece of furniture.

Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant and cough it up on the carpeting.

DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs.

In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed (again).

DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan...

DAY 768- I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo". What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth and the tiny bit of flesh under my claws.

DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of "allergies". Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.
The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

*PS while I'd LOVE to take creative credit for this, I can't. It's been circulating as an e-mail for years.*

castles and handbags

The Princess turned 6 back at the beginning of the month, but we had her party on Friday. She invited 3 other little girls, and we had the party at our local scrapbooking supplies shop.
The girls made a cute doohickey to hang their hairclips on, and had a ball!




Here is the cupcake stand I made:




I didn't come up with this myself, the original was made by the fabulous Nerrida at Kaisercraft.

Here are the party bags:


and the loot. (not many lollies, as you can see)

It was nice to take some time out from all the sadness, just for a little while.

arsehats and legends

We're hearing some incredible stories come out of the flooding in SE Qld.

There are stories of complete tragedy but I'm not going to dwell on those today.

Here's something to make you feel good, instead. Something like 20,000 volunteers have packed up their mops and brooms and buckets and marched out on Brisbane to help clean up. Twenty thousand. Legends.

Here's another. A baker at McConochies bakery on Blackstone Road (near the old Bremer High) apparently baked bread for 24 hours straight, selling bread for 80 cents a loaf. If a customer didn't have 80 cents, it was free. Plus he gave free tea and coffee to those who had no power.
Legend.

Makes those gougers who were selling their bread at $7 a loaf look pretty shabby.

switching off

When things get too much for me, I retreat.

I unplug the phone

I blog-hop and watch YouTube.

I play computer games


I read


I re-charge.


*image from teresa mcnamara

What about you? What do you do when the world crowds in too close?

for Lori. XXX

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
(W.H. Auden)

My heart goes out to you today, Lori.