OCEAN. NO DUMPING!

Isn't this a gorgeous little creature. They produce large mucous nets to capture their prey and their carbonate shells produce pterapod ooze on the sea floor. Along with gastropods and coccolithospores they make their shells or skeletons from calcium carbonate and they're the base of the food chain. Coral reefs also use calcium carbonate to grow.

Calcium carbonate comes in two forms, aragonite and calcite, aragonite being the more soluable. C02 is one of the causes of global warming and C02 is changing the acidity of the oceans so fast that scientists have calculated that the absorption of C02 could make the oceans more acid over the next few centuries than they have been for 300 million years apart from a few catastrophic events.

One of these events occured 65 million years ago, the Chixulub meteorite impact could have caused the release of sulphur dioxide on the surface layers of the oceans. Most of the calcerous plankton went extinct and coral disappeared for two million years. This disappearance is clearly seen in the fossil records.
The other event, 55 million years ago, which scientists think was the unexplained release of methane hydrates from the ocean floor which oxidised to C02, turning the oceans acidic. It's been calculated that around 4500 gigatonnes of carbon caused this acidification and it took over 100,000 years to return to normal alkalinity.

Corals could become rare by the middle of the century not only because of rising water temperatures but falling carbonate levels. These are corals in saturated aragonite water but the high latitude deep water corals which grow near the aragonite saturation limit could decline more rapidly. These corals grow at 100 to 1000 metres down. One reef system stretches from Norway down to the coast of Africa. Scientists have only started to study these reefs, their biodiversity and importance to fish life.

The oceans naturally absorb 0.1 gigatonnes more C02 per year than they release and at the moment they are soaking up an extra 2 gigatonnes a year. This is more than 20 times the natural rate. This doesn't mean the oceans will be devoid of life, just that the diversity will be drastically reduced.

The scientists could be wrong. But in experiments, the shells of pterapods start dissolving in two days, in water at the pH level predicted for 2050. That's only an estimate, it could happen much sooner.

IT'S SPRING, PASS THE TISSUES

You just know it's going to be a bad day when you wake up and sneeze 9 times with a full bladder.

Something has suddenly begun to bloom and my eyeballs are hanging down near my chin.

My teeth are aching where I haven't any teeth.

My voice sounds like Paul Robeson except when I sing.

No, I'm not going to the quack's and let him do the scratching up the arm with sharp instruments to see what it is that I'm allergic to.

I might find out it's the cat and I've just wasted $400 to keep him alive.

Pardon me while I go and cross my legs, there's a sneeze coming.

WE'RE THINKING CLOUDS

We are thinking of clouds. This is another wave cloud. The photograph was taken in 1999 by Beverly Shannon and the cloud has formed over Mt. Shasta. Mt. Shasta is a volcano in the Cascade Ranges of North America
Mt. Shasta has become the focus of myths and legends, both native American and New Age.

One of the myths concerns this cloud formation. This is a Lenticular cloud taken at sunrise and reflected in Lake Siskiyou. The clouds are said to be the hiding places of UFO's because of their plate shape and formation.

Mt. Shasta's energy is said to be magnetic and healing. The town of Mt. Shasta has 16 Christian churches and a Buddhist monastery. Numerous cults and sects believe it to be on an energy grid.

Apart from the UFO's, there is the story of the ancient race of Lemurians from the drowned continent of Lemuria who live inside the mountain and can appear and disappear at will. These beings supposedly mastered atomic energy, esp, electronics, science and had airships which flew them to Atlantis. They don't seem to have mastered geology since they couldn't stop Lemuria disappearing under the sea.

People still report strange lights on the mountain which is regarded as one of the nine sacred mountains of the world. It's also an active volcano with a history of explosive eruptions.

In the meantime it makes some fantastic clouds and not a bad rainbow.

THERE BE BASTARDS HERE

It's been a bit of a crappy week.

The cat's still deciding whether to live or die.

Others didn't get a chance to decide.

Ex husbands shouldn't get a chance to decide, three strikes automatic.

A death notice should go in the paper immediately.

It shouldn't go in a week later, like an afterthought.

It shouldn't read as though a robot from Mars wrote it, in Antarctica under an ice floe.

It should not read as though the Blonde is the mother and grandmother of my children.

You, Bastard, should not have used the quotation from our son's grave because that was mine.

Now to other important matters, Brownie has been having trouble with penis enhancement spammers, too many of them. I, on the other hand, aren't getting enough. Well, not enough of the right kind. I'm after a penis reducer. A nice little pill or liquid or patch that would gradually cause the member to retract up past one's balls, if one still has balls (debatable) and finally come to rest in that part of the brain (again debatable) that triggers spontaneous combustion.

I could bang up a spell or two but with the arthritis and global warming, it's hard to know where they'll land these days. Plus there's probably a lot of fat four-eyed gits out there that could get hit in the crossfire. So keep sending the spam you lot but remember the word is reduce, get it.

WEDDINGS OR FUNERALS

I don't know which of these I loathe the most. I don't even know where to start about today.

1. I don't think it's good form to use a photo that makes the deceased look as though she was nearly 100 even if she was. She would have hated that photo. I have (and so does he) a lovely one taken at her 90th birthday party surrounded by bouquets of flowers.

2. It's definitely not good form to photoshop one's fat self into the photo to make it look like a happy family.

3. It's not good form to give a speech as though it was a Toastmaster's meeting. Instead of just talking about his mother, he inserted a history lesson in between the important events of her life. That's because he didn't know as much as he should have about his mother.

4. When choosing flowers for the casket do not have purple irises with a few pink roses and bright purple paper ribbon sitting on top of a mustard yellow cloth. It should have been pink and white with touches of pale green because that's what she wanted but he didn't ask me.

5. Don't describe one's mother as a simple woman. No woman is simple except the drone he married. She was an intelligent, complex individual who put aside all her aspirations to look after a husband because that's what women did in the thirties. She loved the embroidery work we did because she used to do gold bullion embroidery, an exquisite and difficult art. She worked as a confidential secretary which is why she knew so much about philandering men.

6. Don't let the tacky missus get up and make up fairy tales about the wonderful Sunday lunches they had together because some other person used to go down for lunch on Mondays and get the real story.

7. Don't tell porkies to your ex-wife, she knows you too well but thanks for wearing the pure silk bow tie I gave you 10 years ago. It livened up the prison grey shirt no end.


Remember how my sister and I were waiting for the lightning/thunder? The day was sunny so we didn't get that but when he described his mother as a simple woman, something large and heavy crashed in the foyer. I tried to keep a straight face as my sister's going "She's heeeere!"

The food was good, the tea was nice and hot and Nellie Jean would have loved the sandwiches and the lemon curd tarts, her favourite but he wouldn't have known that.

THINK OF CLOUDS

Lovely isn't it? It's called a wave cloud and is formed when there are two parallel layers of air that are usually moving at different speeds and in opposite directions. All I have to do is just sit here and look at the wave cloud. Tension will roll away with the wave cloud. Blood pressure will go down by meditating on the wave cloud. The wave cloud is soothing especially when Ravel's Piano Concerto in G major is playing in the background, well the adagio assai part.

NO it's not working. Maybe this will....

my ex husband is a supercilious fucking prick who I would like to spit on.

Oh yes, that feels much better. The funeral is on Tuesday and he will be speaking and I hope he is the only one. I may not control myself if the Blonde gets up for a few words. My sister, the expert in all things metaphysical although how she can read a book on metaphysics while drinking vodka, smoking and betting on horses and still consider herself enlightened is beyond me, anyhoo according to the expert, departed souls sometimes do turn up at their own funeral.

M-I-L didn't really like the Blonde. If she gets up and makes a gushy speech and there's thunder, lightning and a raging tornado then I might believe the departed is with us. Blondie did ask if the photos I took on Friday were on my digital camera so they could use them at the funeral. I am the sole support of several utility companies and a vet surgery, how in the feck could I afford a digital camera? Venture out of LaLaLand sometimes, tart, and see how the pensioners live.

Rant over and composure begins since it will take until Tuesday for the rage to subside. I never wear black to funerals, always red to celebrate life not death so out will come the 20 year old red dress and the fifteen rubies and 8 diamonds ring that M-I-L gave to me with her own hands so she knew it was mine. I will wave it around a lot and on my other hand I think I'll wear my wedding and engagement rings and wave them around a lot. And what's more, I'm taking anti-spew pills and I'm going to hug and kiss the ex right in front of her.

After this I hope I never have to see or be nice to him again. twunt

DEATH IN ALL ITS GUISES

I watched the programme on the ABC last night about the photograph of the falling man from the Twin Towers.
It was described as having a quality of stillness. That it did, until you were shown the other photos in the set of 12. Those were full of movement, tumbling over and over, until that one shot. When I looked at that photo, it was not the stillness that hit me but the smallness of the man against the vastness of the building behind him.

I had a lot more to say about that and about taking Mum to see my Mother-in-Law today. It was a long way for Mum to go but it was a nice warm day and she made it. They hadn't seen each other for two years so it was tears all round and a chin wag. We didn't stay long, they both tired easily. I said I'd be back soon and we left around 11.30.

My ex called as I walked in tonight to say Nellie Jean had passed away at 3 o'clock. Another small stillness.

I was with my son when he died. When the life force leaves the body it becomes very still, just like a house emptied of people. That's what death is to me, stillness a never ending stillness.

I HATE/LOVE MY COMPUTER

The things I do to keep my visitors happy. RH, will this one do? I know how exacting your standards are.

The hamster who lives inside this machine and keeps the wheels turning obviously had a bad day and decided to take it out on me. Outlook Express won't accept my gmail password so I'm going to have to do it all again and again and again until the hamster gets it right. I will not surrender!!! I wish I could drink. I have drugs, I think I'll go and take those.

POVERTY STRICKEN CAT OWNER

The poor receptionist at the vet's had never seen such a convoluted way of paying an account.
Some cash, one credit card at the desk, one credit card over the phone. All the family chipped in to get the cat out of hock. Is he grateful? Hasn't spoken to me in four hours. He checked the mohair, filthy look because I'd washed it. Checked the tennis balls, filthy look because I'd piled them in a pyramid. Toured his garden domain, filthy look because the vet clipped his claws and he couldn't dig a deep enough hole. As if half way to China wouldn't do instead of straight through to the centre of the earth, I mean he's not an elephant and he never puts the dirt back anyway.

Just as I was congratulating myself on my computer skills, latest is setting up gmail, I found out I'd emailed myself. Pride goeth and all that. I've ditched NineMSN which I hate but kept hotmail which is just as bad but I'm going to put that on the blog as soon as I figure out how not to crash everything. Everything is installed and uninstalled. I may start signing myself 'N' the rest of the 'erd' will follow in good time. I even joined Library thing.

The book meme has certainly done the rounds and my prize for best answer came from Boysenberry. His answer to one book you wished had never been written.......Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard or is it Ron L. (for loopy). Apologies to all the 'ologists' out there, give it up, you'll go blind.

I'm now going to risk life and limb by giving the cat his antibiotic. It's liquid, comes in a little syringe which goes in the side of his mouth. So simple says the vet. If I was getting that much money I'd find it simple too.

STILL FIGHTING 'HAL' BUT WINNING

The things I do for my commentors. Sorry RH, this is the best tart I could come up with at short notice but she's got red hair. Mine used to be that long but one gets old and things fall off or out. Now if you had asked for a bloke, I've got plenty of those but you had to be difficult.

The computer is still playing games with me. Norton is fighting with ZoneAlarm. I've turned off AVG so the spammers are out in force again. Poor dears, when are they going to realize I don't need another 12 inches. I need an anti-gravity hold everything off my feet bra. I will resume the 'pooter tussles tomorrow.

That's after I take the cat to the Vet. He hasn't eaten in days except for a few licks of ice-cream. I'm hoping it's just a wonky tooth and not something more serious. I'm still paying off the mortgage on the last cat. This is the last pet ever. I'm supertitsious, sorry freudian slip there, on the other hand I am rather supertitsious but I did mean supertitsious. It's not me it's Hal, he was always one for the boobs, stupid computer. You know what I mean, the thing about black cats and not walking under ladders so I won't put the kitty litter away because the minute I do, some stray furball will be in under the gate. That sounds a bit callous, I mean this one is still with me. Blame Hal, he doesn't like cats, boobs yes, cats no.

MY TODAY

Pilot praised for emergency landing4:50 PM August 25
The flying school owner whose plane made an emergency landing at Moorabbin airport in Melbourne this morning says the pilot did an outstanding job.
The twin-engine Beechworth, carrying pilot Brad Lacey and his 24-year-old student, came down on only its rear wheels around 11:00am AEST.
Mr Lacey had been forced to circle the airport for around an hour to burn off fuel after discovering he could not lower the nose wheel.


I watched this through the study window while I waited for the downloading.
Straight over my roof, sharp bank to the right and down.
I thought at the time, cutting it a bit fine mate.
He had a whole ritzy golf course to land in and he missed my house.

DUMP THIS WEEK INTO LIMBO

It's been a craptacular week. I'm taking deep breaths, listening to Rachmaninov and looking at Henry. Blood pressure is returning to nearly normal. It would have been normal if I hadn't posted Henry with pants half undone. I have other photos, he has a better package than the JTwit at BB06.

I can't even remember how I started the week or whether it was sunny or raining. I was on the phone again, playing with my little chums at AGL who can't seem to get it straight about direct debits. They're the ones where the money comes out of my bank account not the one where I take your stupid plastic cards to pay at the post office. Are you going to get it right before September? Letter arrives yesterday and says everything is fine except it doesn't mention DD again. I'll ring next Monday when I've replenished my vocabulary.

Monday is also when I find out the doctor hasn't sent the letter to ACAS for Mummsy to be assessed (seems to be too many s's in that like stressed). Finally get him yesterday and he didn't write it because he thought she looked so well. Of course she looked well, prat, she'd been in hospital and you hadn't been looking after her for 24 hours. Using my nice voice, the one that doesn't rip throats out, I explained how long it takes for the team to come, anything from six weeks, if you write urgent, to eight weeks if you're dumb enough not to write urgent. The paper work has to be in place if she goes downhill suddenly and she can fall in a hole very quickly. He had been on holidays and forgotten to renew her script for Morphine as well. All in all, not a good afternoon for him.

Tuesday I try to transfer credits from my mobile to my sister's. I might as well apologize to everyone who works at a call centre, as much as I hate you, you probably hate dumbarses like me too. As much as Optus might say they don't use call centres in other countries, I got an operator who was channelling Peter Sellars underwater in Mumbai. Who remembers passwords for mobile money exchanges? She gave me a new one, it came on the phone when I was on the computer. The phone was in my bag, three rooms away.

I activated Phone and Internet banking, not. For two days the website wouldn't accept my request for a password, on the third day it did. I bet it was the same call centre. I can hear them now, "It's that stupid tart again, the one who can't manage passwords. Let's annoy her for a few days." Well you did a fine job and all to find out my balance was $4.35 and we won't discuss the balance of my credit card which they've obviously mistaken for the GDP of New Zealand.

Now for the techno thrill part of my week. The website that offers to do a virus scan and if it finds any, you get to pay them money to clean it up. This wasn't even what I went to the site for but the word 'free' got my attention. The words ' sixteen infected files' got me the heart attack. I managed to manually clean out most of them. I went to places in this computer I didn't know existed and probably don't after I've flat-footed through them. Sod the little hackers, why don't they get laid. So decided to run Spybot after that and guess what company had just put 16 pieces of spyware on my machine. Batsardss.

Today has been downloading a new firewall which locked me out of my home page because I forgot to give it permission to let me in. What am I, a mind reader? I am now downloading a new anti-virus programme which, on dial-up, only has another hour to go. One day, someone will find a wizened skeleton hunched over this keyboard waiting for another download. If little Yankee Sol wants to be canonized as St. Sol then give us your ill-gotten bonus so we can all have broadband, you carpetbagger.

Anything else, of course, the cat's sick. He wants to eat but can't. I've opened six cans of food and he sits there looking at it. I thought I'd shock him into sensibility by bringing the cat cage in. He's conscious again now but still not eating. I explained to him nicely that I could look in his mouth to see what was wrong. He just as nicely bit the crap out of me. It's okay, I feel like having a beer so it can't be rabies.

Did I have any luck at all this week? I got 3 numbers in Ozlotto, no prize. I walked to mother's and didn't fall over, that doesn't count because of where I was going. The taps are still leaking. The spouting's still leaking. I forgot to put the garbage out. BUT and a big BUT (no, not mine) hidden behind the icepacks (for my big butt) was a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream. There is no joy like finding a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream that I'd forgotten was there. I should save it for Sunday but it's been a craptacular week.

RUG UP

Rug Up for Winter, funny saying when spring is so close. Actually it is an organisation set up by Gay men to get the message out that 'rugging up' with a condom is taking action to help prevent HIV infection.

HIV infections have risen, in Victoria in 2005, by 28%. Is it because gay men no longer see their friends dying around them week by week? Is it because with every new treatment, they no longer see HIV as a death threat? Is the safe sex message not getting to the next generation of gay teens?

RugUp wants Gay men to take responsibility for their own health as well as their partners, mates and, I might as well say it, fuck buddies. They have a three point plan for men to commit to.
1. Use a condom every time you have casual anal sex between lst July and 30th September.
2. Have a sexual health check-up. (simple tests for gonorrhoea, syphilis, chlamydia and HIV)
3. Talk to your friends about your decision to be part of RugUp and encourage them to join.

So why am I talking about this campaign when I'm not gay or even a man? It's because this type of campaign can easily cross over to the straight male community. Take any 14 to 24 year old group of males and I bet they couldn't name more than one sexually transmitted infection or know what the symptoms are until their balls dropped off.
It also applies to girls in that same age range. There's no reason for girls not to carry their own condoms and insist on their use.
If your current cretin thinks you're a slut for carrying them, leave and never look back, he's not worth the trouble.
A grass roots campaign like RugUp has my support in educating sexually active teens, gay or straight. HIV and STI's don't care about your sexual orientation.

THE MEME I'VE TRIED TO AVOID

One book that changed your life or One book that changed my view of life.

The Sea Around Us and Silent Spring by Rachel Carson.
She made me look at the natural world with eyes wide open.

And the Band Played On and Conduct Unbecoming by Randy Shilts.
Introduced me to the politics of AIDS and the hypocrisy of the US military.

Woman as Revolutionary. Edited by Frederick Giffen and published in 1973 when it was all starting.
I picked it up at a sale for $2.05 and will keep it for my granddaughters.

Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke.
My first science fiction and introduction to the idea of race memory.

One book you have read more than once

Once a favourite always a favourite so it's Lovejoy Antiques and Harry Potter.
(memo to self: berate ABC shop for not releasing Lovejoy on DVD)

One book you would want on a desert island

A large encyclopedia with a section on how to survive on a desert island.......and maybe a sub-section on how to make a bloke from a rib.

One book that made you laugh

Adolf Hitler, My Part in His Downfall by Spike Milligan and the three that came after.
(successfully hidden in the ceiling at the Blight's departure)

One book you wish had been written

The Elimination of War by the Outbreak of Peace.

One book you wish had never been written

Black Beauty.
A monster of a book to give to a child with a vivid imagination. I can still see poor Ginger dying on the road after being flogged by the cruel driver. I sobbed for days. I refuse to read animal books or see animals films.

One book you are currently reading

A View From the Diner's Club by Gore Vidal and several others in various parts of the house.

One book you have been meaning to read or one book you hope to be able to read one day.

The Downfall of Religious Influence on Australian Political Policy.

Julia Gillard, A review of her Ten Years as Prime Minister.

There's nothing in the meme rules about the books having to be written or published already.

MY TREASURES

Oops, loaded the wrong photo but I might as well leave it and let you look. My mother, who taught me everything I don't know about saving money, bought this for me. It wasn't a present, it was because it was $40 off the rrp and according to her, that's reason enough.

I think it didn't sell because the boxes are tall, narrow and not very deep. Apart from the 'where in the hell am I going to hang that', I had to think of something to put in it. A visit to my favourite shop which now is selling things for more than $2 and I had the perfect vision. Tall narrow picture metal frames which I covered with dacron and burgundy velvet (hope I never have to repair the dress) and some of my jewells. If anyone wants to rob the place, it's okay, I just paid the insurance.

Putting up the box was an experience in patience and perserverance, neither of which I have.
I finally worked out that the hangers had to be done for one side only and then measure up for the other. It is level, my builders level sat on top for the entire operation. There were a few more holes than I anticipated on a few more walls than I'd hoped for but half a bag of polyfil took care of that. Mix up a bit of water colour from the paint box and anyone who notices has bad manners.

The good thing is, I can take the jewells off and wear them. The bad thing was trying to remember it was on the wall for about two months. Two months of walking into it in the dark.
Still doing that, stood up from the bookcase yesterday and hit myself right between the shoulder blades. It didn't move a centimetre off centre so all that swearing paid off.

DUCKS

Next time a lady of your acquaintance says she's getting bread to feed the ducks, read this http://observer.guardian.co.uk/world/story/0,,1769387,00.html and think twice.

Shut up nitpickers, you know I can't work out how to hide all this under one word.

NATIONAL DAY OF ACTION

Some great photos from the National Day of Action on Sunday. My red dress will keep for next year and Andrew will keep me company instead of going to the football. Mind you, I'd have had to skip the walk down Bourke Street. I've done that once this year and I know my limits.

Congratulations to the Victorian Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby for all the hard work. And if God didn't like queers it would have rained all day but look at that beautiful sunshine. The VGLRL estimates 2000 people met on the steps of Parliament House.

THE HOUSE MOTTO

I love it, definitely the house motto. I needed a laugh after dealing with AGL gas, AGL electricity, Melbourne Water and the insurance company. Two solid hours on the phone. If Yankie Sol ever suggests bringing in timed phone calls I will personally put him on a leaky boat to nowhere.

SOME THINGS HARDLY CHANGE AT ALL

The cartoons above are from a book called '2001 An Aussie Odyssy' and it was published in 1984. I've scanned a few and will post them and probably owe someone royalties. Twenty-two years on and even the political ones are still relevent.
I came across the book when I bashed my shin on a pile of them sticking out from the bottom of the bookcase. They've only been like that for the last two years but they've never caused damage to the shin before. My mistake, I moved the very large antique picture frame that was sitting in front of that particular spot. This frame is prepared for gilding and crackling and somewhere is the board to go in it and somewhere else are the cut out photos for the decoupage to go on the board. It will be one of those projects I can take to the nursing home.
Anyway the books were a lovely way to waste an afternoon. Gary Larsen's 'Farside', 'Wizard of Id' and a small treasury of 'Flash Filstrup' with his favourite Mackintosh. (not a computer)
They belonged to the Blight but I figured that after seeing his Blonde, he'd lost his sense of humour so I hid them when he left.
I'm thinking of having one of Larsen's cartoons blown up and nailed to my front door since it sums up the inside of this house completely. I'll have to post that one, it's a favourite.

12 THINGS THAT KEEP ME ALIVE MEME

Being able to go to the marriage rally would have been big on that list. Kudos to the ABC for giving it good coverage. Kudos to the weather angels for a beautiful day. Everybody wearing red was also great.

I've been sleeping in the afternoons like an old lady. I should be relaxed enough now but I'm not getting the blood pressure taken for another couple of weeks, when the bills are paid.

I liked this meme from Ampersand Duck and it looked so easy. Wrong! It took me a while until I got the first one but it might have been the crappy mood I was in. I was in a much better place by the time I got down to number 12.

1. Easy to say anything to do with the sea but there's one place that really does it for me. 'The Crags' are about 12kms west of Port Fairy. The sea is never smooth. The colours of the rocks, the sky and the water are always changing.

2. Butterflies. We so rarely see clouds of them in the 'burbs these days that watching one is a treat.

3. Clouds. So many varieties. Sometimes 3 or 4 in one section of sky, always moving and changing.

4. Paper. All of it. Machine made, hand made, embossed, watermarked, white or buff, gold edged, unlined, luxuriously heavy. I hoard it like a miser hoards gold.

5. Fountain pens and ink. I like slim pens with very fine nibs. I love deep burgundy ink.

6. Beads. Glass beads. Lampwork beads. Large, small, faceted, smooth, plain or irridescent.

7. Music that has memory. Music that pulls an image from your mind you thought had disappeared forever.

8. The perfume of flowers. Boronia on a warm summer night. Orange blossoms after rain. Roses at anytime. Freesias in spring. Walking through a cloud of gardenia. Lavender on the cat when he's been sleeping under the bush.

9. Books of all types. But I'm in love with coffee table books. Smooth glossy pages of photographs, history, jewells, places, fashions, too big and luscious to hold without two hands.

10. Finding a note or a card in my son's handwriting. Writing reveals so much and changes over a life time and I have so little of him on paper.

11. Hugs. Hello hugs, comfort hugs, 'oh you fool' hugs, goodbye hugs, children's hugs or a tiny paw hug from the cat.

12. Laughter. Rolling on the floor, stitch in the side, damn, I've wet myself laughter.

I'M IN NEED OF A WARM HOLIDAY

Once again I'm not supposed to be sitting at a computer. I am supposed to be resting, well I'm sitting down, good and I'm not reading the news, better. Somebody has a blood pressure problem. It's just a little bit high. I'm sure the sharp pains in the head aren't related to it. Probably some other problem I haven't sussed out yet.

So because I won't take medication for something that's only stress related, it's rest and no stress. No thinking about Mother, stray cats, politics and no outing to the city on Sunday. I've had it too long for the gas bill to cause it, oh my lord, the gas bill. It bookends with the 'oh my lord, the electricity bill' and sits on a shelf made of the 'oh my lord, the house insurance'. Oops, heart rate is rising, pains in the head are making my eyes water.

So I rested, in bed, with the phone and two years of bills. I've calculated how much to direct debit each pay based on the two years of loot I've paid to fat corporations. I'm even caving in and getting a phone banking password for the times Mother has me tied up in knots and I can't get to the bank. I'm old fashioned, I pay by cash which apparently is going out of style. I like having the cash in my hand even if it's only for an hour. I refuse to grocery shop online, I'd never find the chocolate specials or the donuts on their last leg and going out for a penny.

So I'm not sitting at this computer, I'm resting, in between phone calls from Mother who wants to know if I feel better. Funny about that, I get pains in the head after she calls, maybe it's the phone.

SUNDAY PLANS

This is where I want to be on Sunday and where I plan to be on Sunday but unless the ice packs and the zapzap unit do their job, I won't make it. I've lost confidence about going into the City again even though it's only across from Parliament station. I went to the rally last year which was the first time I'd been in the CBD for nearly ten years and a big first for me. This year too many trials and too many falls have knocked me around a bit. I've got two days to get into shape and I'll be doing my best to get on a bus and a train. I am woman, watch me whimper.

This is too important not to be there. Last year I saw a lot of loving couples, same sex, big deal. A lot had children, well loved and looked after and more importantly, wanted. That's WANTED to complete a FAMILY not to gain a $3000 baby bonus. There is no valid reason same sex couples shouldn't be able to marry, be civil unioned or partnership registered. The Federal government can shove us into a war involving death unlimited but can't accept that love between two people of the same sex doesn't mean the end of civilization as they know it.

I've sent off my membership renewal to the Victorian Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby, actually I have a feeling I've done it twice but call it double the commitment. I want every gay and lesbian teenager to be able to live without fear of being thrown out of home or beaten to a pulp because of the homophobia flowing from the so-called moralists in this country.

ANGEL LORE

Seagulls are the messengers of Angels.

They have to be seen in unusual places or at unusual times.

Ravens are the carriers of Angels.

They carry away the unhappiness in our souls.

There is no black or white, light or dark where Angels are.

KITTEN LOVERS BEWARE

This is Charles Amadeus Mozart B. He's just 6 weeks old and so cute.

This is Charles 4 weeks later. He's already found out that cute will bring rewards like food and more food.

Three years later and HEEEEERE'S CHUCKY! After making gluttony his life style of choice, Charles became an expert on food. How to scrounge, snatch and steal anything that took his fancy. Mum's cupboards still bear the scratches from his claws as he would climb up to where she was carving the Sunday roast. He would have eaten Tom Cruise and the lamb roast. We tried everything to discourage him. The diet food from the vet cost a fortune and when it wasn't enough, he stole from the dog's dish across the road. If we had visitors, we counted the children as they left.

When he finally went to that great litter box in the sky, or in Charles' case that great cat pantry, we had a letter of condolence from the vet for 'the loss of your much loved cat, Charles'. I'm sure they were completely sincere as he was the main contributor to their solvency.

As for cats, today I did a good deed. I have had a tom roaming around the garden for the past week and could that cat howl. Not the normal tom-type screaming but a crying howl which would go on all night. He would get into the house at every opportunity and a little spraying would occur followed by me hosing me out of the yard. He always came back until I couldn't help myself and I fed him. He didn't eat with me there but the bowl was clean so I kept filling it and the cat. He stopped howling for a few hours at a time.

My last two cats were stray toms and very wary of coming near even after feeding them for weeks. Getting them into the cage for that little snip job was murderous, I still have the scars. My beautiful Greystoke actually bit through a vein on my wrist as I was shoving him into the cage. He arrived at the vet covered in blood and they asked when did he have the accident, never mind me fainting from blood loss.

This one was different, walked up purring, let me pick him up, into the cage and that was it. I covered him with a blanket so he wouldn't be frightened in the car and not a peep. The neighbour from next door was very willing to take us to the animal shelter. They'd had as much sleep as me over the last week. The vet said they'd have no trouble finding him a good home as he was so friendly as well as being a beautiful looking cat. He was being tested for feline AIDS and having the snip this afternoon. In two weeks, after his coat is washed and combed, he'll be up for adoption. I'm sorry I don't have enough money to feed two animals or I'd be back.

He was so friendly I'm sure he was a family pet that was either abandoned or not neutered because of the cost. He may have caught the scent of a female and become lost in the chase. I do know that he'll have a chance to go to the family he deserves. I just wish it was mine.

Always buy your animals from a shelter. They've been neutered, vaccinated and micro-chipped and your money helps more animals.

WWP NAILS ONE

World's Worst Photographer finally gets one right. This is my beautiful waterlily camellia which I care for with great diligence, in other words, it takes water from next door's garden, gets the sun for free and sometimes I remember to feed it.

After reading the previous post I thought I'd better get the rake and find 'Moby Dick' under the bed. Bad move, it means going up the side of the house that I usually ignore. I'm sure I was only up there a few months ago, well maybe last summer but when did the hanging gardens of Babylon start sprouting in the spouting? This means a trip up the ladder to check things out (where are you Davo, when I need you) but I didn't make it past the first three steps and I needed two more for a squizz. The flesh was willing but the spirit was weak, it looked a long way to the ground and I didn't have a safety net. I intend to ignore it. The black birds are foraging for food all along there which means there's crawlers and I can't have my black birds going hungry.

The rake worked, one copy of Moby Dick, one synchrotron notebook, one earring I thought I'd lost forever, two empty pill bottles (junkie) and a covey of dust bunnies. Under the bed is clean, I feel so righteous.

MEME THINGY

Go to page 123, read the fifth sentence then write down the next four.

"I started hiking. First, I had to find my way out of the maze of dank old fortifications around the harbour. The limestone-block walls were pitted from the cannonballs that pirates and assorted rebels had fired over the centuries. As I negotiated the narrow lanes between the double walls, whores hissed and grasped at me from the shadows."
Adventures in Ocean Exploration by Robert Ballard.

"Captain Nelson arrived here in 1782, having sailed up the St. Laurence past wooded hills blazing with Autumn colours. It was here that he fell vainly in love with the sixteen-year-old Mary Simpson, daughter of the garrison's provost-marshal, and here that his friend, Alexander Davison, dissuaded him from abandoning his naval career to continue his courtship. Colonel Simpson's stone house is thought to survive among those near the St. Louis Gate in old Quebec. There were compensations for his disapointment in love: "Health, that greatest of blessings, is what I never truly enjoyed till I saw Fair Canada", he wrote." (the one-eyed, one-armed little shagmeister started early, practise for Emma Hamilton)
From the Nelson Companion, edited by Colin White.

"He was shocked to see how Nixon raged about him, called him a "simpering asshole". Baker felt like a voyeur reading Nixon's fury. "Baker will not be in this office again - do you understand that?" Nixon told Haig on July 12, 1973. "Never, never, never!"
From Shadow, Five Presidents and the Legacy of Watergate by Bob Woodward.

I know it's only supposed to be one book but I'm reading all three of them although I wasn't up to page 123 of Ballard and after reading that I'll be surging ahead to catch up.

Thank you Andrew, between pages 122 and 123 I found my recipe for banana and irish cream pudding and for making me realize what a train wreck my bedroom is. I can't believe that I actually take up this pile every time I make the bed and put it back.

I have a glossary of meterorites, a dictionary of Geology, papers on impact crater collapse, climate and the collapse of Maya civilization, the discovery of the largest crater field in the Gilf Kebir, whether impacts initiate volcanic eruptions, a list of logical fallacies, a breakdown of the Agulhas Currrent, the formation of shatter cones, a thesis on gay racism and its affect on Asian men in HIV social research and The Connoisseur's Guide to Art Nouveau Jewelry.

Also in this mess are my Tarot cards, the Toth deck by Aleister Crowley, the handbook of practical applications fo ancient visual symbols and my deck of Angel Cards. My copy of Moby Dick is under the bed along with my Synchrotron notes which fell there when I turned the mattress. I have to bring the rake in to get them out.

My Christmas presents from my sister are still on the bed with my walkman, tapes, batteries, pens, pencils, box of kleenex and the cat. I tell you there is just no room in my life for a bloke, or there's no room in my bed for a bloke.

I'm supposed to tag 5 people but I'm just going to tag our honourary blogger, RH, you're it.
You can use my comments section and no cheating by using page 123 of your own poems.

SPYCAM

I'm warning you Sedg, if I catch you lurking in the bushes again with the telephoto lens you're going to be missing bits.

You could have waited until I painted the toenails and had the broom re-thatched.

Don't ask about the chook, we're just very good friends.

THE BEAR'S FAREWELL

The dodgy bear has really done it this time.
He's closed down Diogenesian Discourse. The lights are going out all over the blogesphere.

Can't say I blame him, he's an old bear and pissing into the wind is a young bear's game.

I suppose he'll do the decent thing and wander off into the forest to die so he won't be a burden to the tribe er herd um flock, bloody hell what do you call a multitude of bears, besides dangerous.

On his wanders I hope he stumbles across a baby blog that needs a guiding grouch.

After all, it was him that said, "No-one leaves the asylum!"

See you back at the keyboard, furface.

WHERE'S HUBBLE?

This is another great site for you, Link. http://www.n2yo.com

This site merges Google Maps with satellite orbital data to let you track the position of many spacecraft including Hubble.

I hope I can work it better than I can work YouTube.

LETHAL BEAUTY

This was taken from the Age yesterday. It's called a nacreous cloud and like the circumhorizontal arc, very rare but unlike the equally beautiful arc, this is more deadly.

According to Andrew Klekociuk, an atmospheric physicist with the AAD, nacreous clouds are a catalyst that convert chlorofluorocarbons, changing them into forms that can destroy ozone in the presence of sunlight. Nacreous means "mother-of-pearl like".

The clouds form about 20 kilometres up and only when the mercury falls below minus 80 degrees. Weather balloons sent up to the clouds recorded temperatures of minus 87 degrees.

The photographer was Renae Baker, a Bureau of Meteorology officer based at Mawson. At those temperatures I'm happy to just look at her photographs.

CENSUS

Census 2006
Census 2006 happens next Tuesday night right across Australia.There are a couple of important things to consider if you're in a same-sex relationship, especially if you have children. It's all terribly confusing because Federally, our relationships are not recognised at all and non-birth mothers are not legally related to their own children! So, what do we answer for these questions? I've called the Census information line and here's what they've advised.

Question 5: What is the person's relationship to Person 1/Person 2?Definitely tick the De facto partner of Person 1/Person 2. Although we're not recognised Federally as de facto partners, the Census guidelines do include same-sex couples in their de facto definition.

Question 5: What is the person's relationship to Person 1/Person 2? (in relation to children)This one is a little more tricky. The choices you will have to select from in terms of your children are:
Child of both Person 1 and Person 2
Child of Person 1 only
Child of Person 2 only
Brother or sister of Person 1
Unrelated flatmate or co-tenant of Person 1 - please specifyIf you select Child of Person 1 (or 2) only, your family will be counted as being a step-parent family. If you select Child of both Person 1 and Person 2, your family will be counted the same as any other family with two parents.


The above is from a post at http://themuriels.blogspot.com and shows the difficulties of being a same-sex family when bureaucracy is involved.

TRUTH

The first casualty of war is truth.

The second casualty of war is unbiased truth.
Each side or faction has a vested interest in drawing outsiders to their version of events.

The third casualty of war is the door they hide truth behind.
In time truth will tear it apart in order to be heard.

AND I THOUGHT JULY WAS BAD

Today for a birthday treat I let my Mother drive me the rest of the way to insanity. That journey started last night when Jamie won BB06. Nothing against the lad really, I mean he'll probably grow up, find his brain where it fell out of his earhole and hopefully not vote for Howard but my faggot loving self wanted David to win.

Now about me Mummy, the 'let's put it away in a safe spot'phobic. In the last few days I have found two brand new pairs of shoes still in boxes that she didn't remember but she put away in a safe spot. Her wedding and engagement rings in a music box which was okay because the music box was in a safe spot. The anti-biotics disappeared, the bottle labelled, 'do not move from here'(not yet found). The gardner's money in an envelope, labelled 'gardner's money' which was on the mantlepiece ready to be handed to him is now in a safe place (not yet found). The census form has now been recovered from it's safe place ready for Tuesday. I am going to have blood poisoning from the notes on my arm about things that have to be retrieved from their safe places. I'm glad the box of used Christmas cards from 1995 was in a really safe spot.

I haven't got my census form yet. I'm looking forward to having a good read and writing notes to ASIO. A few bloggers this year are deserting The Force and putting down blogging as their religion, a brilliant suggestion. The only thing better would be putting out the census paper as a meme. I hope there's a special section for divorced women to fill out.....name of ex-spouse......name of ex-spouse's tart du jour.

I have my religion ready to go. I am a Thai (there are two schools) buddhist(I'm pissed with the Dalai, he's anti-gay) agnostic, pacifist, naked bloke worshipping (no touching, just looking) High Priestess of the Cult of Blog. I tried to work in my worship of fat foods but I'm saving that in case they ask questions about health.

JULY'S END

HIPPO

BIRDIE

TO ME

RAGING SEA

Isn't this photograph stunning? It's called Port Davey and was taken by Hobart photographer, Geoffrey Lea and won landscape photograph of 2006. I did have it set as wallpaper but it's too powerful to look at that closely. There are other photographs by him at http://www.leatherwoodonline.com which is a marvellous site for all things Tasmanian. While you're there check out the B&B's and the regional recipes and restaurants.

WEIRD COSMIC RAYS

I think we're being bombarded by weird cosmic rays. Or it's just me.

I'm watching two doves going at it while balancing on top of the fence. (jealous. much. on top of a fence.)

The letterbox has cockroaches again, brown ones though, Aussie. The CIA has taken theirs home.

The Rodent is having a birthday. He's ONLY 67. Are they sure about that?

I mean he's been around since the Andes were a footstep.

How dare he have a birthday in my birthday month anyway.

Phillip Ruddick (I know how to spell) wants to censor Television and books, specifically Big Brother and Islamic 'How to bomb yourself to heaven' books. I can't make out which one he thinks is terrorism.

I am officially getting old. I admit it. I used to be able to flip a queen-size mattress with one hand. This morning it took me an hour, a lot a swearing and a seismic event when I finally let it drop.

Are you sure the batsard (I know how to spell) is only 67?

In 33 years he'll be one hundred years old. He'll still be here, I just know it. I bet Captain Smirk does too.

The Jenolan Caves are 340 million years old. I bet he started them off by digging in his sandpit.

Happy Birthday, your gnomeship.

HOMAGE TO HIS LORDSHIP

TREMBLE AT THE TRUE FACE OF SEDGWICK

THE FIVE MEME

Thanks to Ampersand Duck.

IN MY HANDBAG.

What handbag? I have a collection of huge over the shoulder calico bags. I bought the first two from GreenPeace and have replicated them ever since. I have been known to wipe out small children by swinging round too fast with no warning. A Sherpa would have trouble carrying these bags after I've been shopping.
So I have a plastic envelope containing pens and pencils and my hand made dictionary of science terms that I always forget.
Another plastic envelope with bills, scripts, bus timetables, train timetables and various plastic eating items plus sugar quills that fall into my bag at those little coffee places.
Mobile phone, which I'm always forgetting to charge but it's handy for the time since my watch died.
Make-up purse with tiny hair brush, lipgloss and teeny tiny mirror because I don't care to see my entire face in daylight, bits of it will do.
My purse containing the twenty or so cards essential for everyday life plus mum's cards and Power of Attorney so I can use them. Sometimes the purse even has money in it. (not often)

IN MY FRIDGE.
This was good for a chortle and a quick ignore of the swamp in the bottom.
The cat's fresh carton of whole milk.
My carton of uht skim milk because he won't have a bar of it.
Nimbin Cheese
Lovely big fresh apples
Tofu

IN MY CLOSET (how American) WARDROBE (Aussie)
Stash of dress fabrics
Handbags
Covered boxes containing my tiaras and headdresses from strange parties. I'm not kidding, photos were taken and will be posted.
Summer shoes neatly stacked in the shoe container. (winter shoes all over the bedroom)
Dresses, winter up one end, summer up the other and autumn/spring collection in the middle.
My cupboards are the only tidy things in this house. I've had seagulls walk in through the front door looking for the tip.

IN MY BATHROOM CABINET.
BandAids, lots. Never buy the clear ones, you can never see to peel the buggers off. Glow in the dark ones are fun except if you forget and look at your foot in the dark.
Betadine antiseptic. I decant it from 44 gallon drums. It works, true dinks, I haven't lost a limb yet.
Dead toothbrushes. Well for 95 cents they don't last forever but I just can't throw them away. They are great for cleaning the tile grout when I get to it, sometime in the next year or two.
Clarins face creams. I have a permanent lay-by at my chemist for these when the specials come out. I'd like to say I look like Linda Evangalista but I'd be struck by lightning for a lie that big.
Hair Dye or rather colour enhancement for my NATURAL colour and it's been so long since I saw my natural colour this really could be my NATURAL copper hair colour.

IN MY CAR. damn don't have one. IN MY CARPORT.
Four car tyres, no car.
Six potted plants, one living.
Twelve assorted gardening implements, rusty.
One garden refuse bin, empty. (I'll fill it in spring)
Big branches, cut off the citrus trees. I'm telling everyone it's a scientific experiment. (I'll get rid of them in the spring)

I hate these sort of memes. I usually have a blind spot about things that aren't fixed up around the house and now they're hitting me in the face everywhere I look. It will take a tremendous effort but I will resist the temptation to leave the computer and actually do housework.

THE BURMA BULLIES

"Malaysia's foreign minister, Syed Hamid Albar, the chairman of the Association of South-East Asian Nations (Asean), said the group's fortunes were being held hostage by Burma, which has refused to initiate a transition to democracy despite repeated pledges to do so.
"Asean now has reached a stage where it is not possible to defend its member when that member is not making an attempt to cooperate," Mr Syed Hamid said at a conference of Asean legislators."


I can't see China or India taking much notice of this considering their investments in Burma but it's worth bringing the Junta to the world's attention. There is a dirty list of companies that invest or operate in Burma including Travel Agencies. A lot of the tourist accommodation was built by child slave labour and Burmese activists have asked that tourists not visit the country and contribute to the Junta's deep pockets. The Junta also controls the heroin trade and the gem mines. Don't buy Burmese rubies.

I am in two minds about the tourist trade however. If you're going to sit in an exclusive resort and never venture out except in convoy with the other exclusive resort visitors then I'd suggest you stay home. But if you're able to wander around the country and talk, with discretion, to the Burmese people then by all means go. Have a good look around, talk to students, people in the street, in the villages then bring the stories back. This country is so closed that offers of help during the aftermath of the tsunami were rejected. As always, in countries like Burma, don't act the ugly Australian abroad.

DINO BLOGGING

You can keep your cat and dog blogging, I've got a dinosaur and he's Australian. Meet Umoonasaurus who swam in the inland sea of Australia abut 115 million years ago. He belonged to a group of meat-eating marine animals known as plesiosaurs.

This new species has been identified using fossils of 30 individuals including seven partial skeletons. Some from old collections and recent excavations.

The best thing about these fossils is that a lot of the material is found in opal mines and the fossils have been opalized into beautiful greens and blues.

He's been named after Umoona, the aboriginal name for the South Australia region where the most complete Umoonasaurus skeleton was found complete with a gut full of small fish.

He's not pretty and I can't quite put my finger on who he reminds me of, someone in Parliament, I'm sure it'll come to me.

ANGEL THOUGHTS

I have been listening to some tapes on loan from my sister. My sister, the gambling, drinking and swearing sister. She believes in Angels. She despises religion, can't be bothered wondering if there's a God, unless he's the God of Horseracing but she believes in Angels.

She says it's a fairly recent thing. Thirty years of nursing, mostly older people, has led her to a point where she can't explain some of her experiences in scientific terms. So she began to study the phenomenon of Angels and why they feature in every major religion. Every belief system has it's beings of light and darkness even if they're not called Angels.

According to this latest Angel tape, we don't just have one to help us, we have a mob of them. We might have one particular guide for the every day stuff but for the big decisions we can be surrounded by a think tank of waving ethereal winged beings. They are there to guide us when we ask, to gently nudge us in the right direction if we're undecided.

This is all too much lightness for my dark celtic soul. So I've given my lot the weekend off. I've told half of them to go and wrap their wings around children in peril. The other half have really got their work cut out. Their job is to sit on the shoulders of the so-called leaders of the world and whisper constantly, you are only mortal, don't presume to be anything greater.

Good Luck, Angels.

COLD ITEM AND DUMB ITEM

Melbourne's Friday chill
Coldsteam -4.3
Avalon -2.1
Essendon -1.8
Laverton -1.6
Moorabbin -1.6
Tullamarine Airport 0.2

And this is why I was putting on a snowsuit to run to the toilet this morning. It's supposed to be raining, you know, winter and all. Gale force winds, a bit of hail, thunderstorms but freezing my bum off to have a, let's go all aussie here, snake's hiss is a bit much. Even now I'm sitting here wearing two dressing gowns and a cloak, sox and slippers. I didn't remember being this cold last year but then last year I had a cat in the study and I kept the oil heater thing on for him. I did think of getting it out for me then I remembered the bill when it came in. Dressing gowns are cheaper.

I have a Google alert for Australian Synchrotron developments and last week the synchrotron had its 'first light' run which means that every thing is aligned and functioning perfectly so the last two paragraphs of the alert were as follows:

Overseas researchers have used synchrotron technology in producing designer medicines, creating flat screen computers and extending the life of jet engines.
It also has been recruited for more humble applications in developing smoother chocolate and more absorbent disposable nappies.

Smoother chocolate and disposable nappies, nothing about looking into a single living blood cell or recording the reaction of a microscopic alga when exposed to UV rays or finding a single cancer cell before it multiplies. No wonder kids aren't interested in science these days and why people can be convinced by politicians of the other side that it's a waste of money by the Bracks Government.

On the home front, there is a tomcat roaming the street. It has sprayed up the front door and up the back door and all over the stupid old dill that should have known better than to go out and try to chase it away. That's the cat not me, in case you were wondering. He has the cheek to look at me as though I'm the one on the nose. I have tried to bath him once, a long time ago and I won't be repeating that in a hurry. I still have the scars so he'll have to wash himself.

I have two new blogs for you to visit. http://madsheilamusings.blogspot.com and http://meiultravires.blogspot.com. The first is a feminist writer out west and I love what she'd like to do to men using a barnacle loofah. The second blog is written by a working mother with the strange hobby of chasing scrub turkeys, of course she's from Queensland. Go and enjoy them.

ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

Sorry I'm not that kind of a blogger. I can't write about the killing of children. I don't care what nationality they are, they're children and they are dying. I've left comments around various blogs and that's as much as I can write. So I'll just ignore the elephant in the room that is the tragedy of the Middle East.

I am puzzled about this division between the Left and Right of politics. As I understand, the lefties are sooks and tree huggers, the righties are strong and patriotic. Stupid me, I thought we were all human beings.

I am equally as puzzled about the division between believers in God and non-believers in God. Why does it matter? The believers and the non-believers can and do kill each other. There seems to me to be as many 'Gods' as there are non-'Gods' in their strange belief systems.

While I'm puzzling, I might as well ask why loving a person of the same sex as oneself is considered not normal or evil or disgusting by lefties, righties, god-believers and non-believers?

I might as well throw this in too. Why aren't I built like Elle Mcpherson on the outside when I have the same body structure on the inside?

Perhaps life's puzzles weren't meant to be easy.

I LOVE ME A PIRATE

After the disappointment of the DaVinci Code I wondered if the Pirates would be the same but I have to say I enjoyed every minute of it. I forgot about war and politics for the afternoon and relaxed with my feet up. I'm looking forward to the third instalment with Capn Jack Sparrow.
If Keira Knightly says she doesn't have an eating problem then she should go back and have a look at this film. The girl looks rounded, almost, and healthy not the scarecrow that's been parading on the red carpet lately.

Actually the film took me right back to the Saturday arvo pictures. My sister and I would walk nearly 3 miles across paddocks and roads to get to the theatre. Something that would give mothers and fathers nightmares about now. Nothing like a two tier picture theatre filled with screaming, fighting and Jaffa throwing kids, makes a soccer match look like kindergarten.

The walk used to terrify me as we would have to go through a huge paddock that had horses. My sister loved horses, I didn't. She would wait until I was in the middle of nowhere and then she would call them. Of course, they always came for her, through me.

I didn't like the realism of movies on the big screen. Even now I can remember scenes that terrified me and I hated the Three Stooges. They pulled the beautiful theatre down and built a petrol station then they pulled down the petrol station and made a road.

WHAT'S SLEEP?

This is the sweet little cat. He's sleeping on a feather cushion. He's shedding fur on an expensive mohair rug. He's letting you see two of the eleven tennis balls he has hidden behind his bed. What I can't show you or let you hear is the sight and sound of this mongrel moggie projectile vomiting cat bikkies and fur balls at 4 o'clock this morning.

I didn't get to sleep until after 3. One of those nights where nothing was comfortable and I tossed and turned but finally drifted off until that sound. I flew out of bed and opened the back door, hoping against hope that he'd make it. He was in the kitchen by now, hacking up the last fur piece so a quick look at the carpet in the lounge, all clear. Great, just the kitchen so I'll clean it up in the morning.

I go back to bed, drift off again but I need a pee. Stagger out of bed again. I never put a light on, it wakes me up too much. Bad luck this time as I put my foot squarely in the pile of regurgitated whiskettes just outside the toilet door. I can't tell you how happy I was to see it was only this when I did turn the light on, I mean it could have been a lot worse but not much. The creature has been down behind the couch all day where I can't reach him except with a 12 bore.

It's turned me off cooking for the day. I was going to make scones because I have a bottle of black cherry jam or fruit spread because it has no sugar in it. The brand is French, Charles Jacquin and I usually buy the rasberry but Safeway looks as though it's selling out the brand. I found the black cherry by chance when a little old lady (I'm a magnet for them) asked me to go to the bottom shelf for some Homebrand rubbish and there was a cache of Jacquin. These little old ladies will drive me to drink, if it's not something on the tenth shelf below the ceiling, it's something they want from the floor area. Usually I try to buy Australian but in this case Jacquin's is the best of the best. While I was on the floor Ron, I did make a quick check of the Rose's marmalade, no luck for you. Now I'm not making scones.

Tomorrow I am going to see Pirates courtesy of pissed sister who put the wrong number on the Tote ticket and got the daily double, again. She sees it as divine intervention and sends me off to loll around enjoying myself in Goldclass. So next payday I won't have to make one of those difficult decisions, food or frivolity.

I haven't forgotten the seriousness of the world either. A very big "Up Yours" to world renowned obstetrician Michel Odent who told a British conference that a caesarean section birth interferes with the natural production and release of the hormone oxytocin which helps a woman "fall in love" with her child. This jeopardises their chances of bonding with their babies.

Thank you for the guilt trip, you twerp. Not all of us elect to have caesarean births, sometimes it's an emergency and we get enough crap from midwives and other mothers without some bloke handing out another reason to cringe. I don't like babies, they might as well be alien creatures to me. I hate people who hand me one because they cry when they see me. My own bawled every time I looked at him. You couldn't have bonded us with superglue. I get along fine with teenagers. I even manage them as kids as soon as they can talk and use a knife and fork, up until then, forget the bonding. It had nothing to do with the Caesar, it would have been the same if I had spent the time pushing him out, some of us just don't bond with the little squawkers, so there Mr. Obstetrician.

I must be one of the weird mothers though, every year older he got, I loved him more. A kind of reverse bonding. What do men know!

BASTILLE DAY

To celebrate Bastille Day let's have some FrouFrou. Will you just look at those green eyes! I can't post the entire face, I'd be arrested, he looks too young for me to drool over. But I have ordered those eyes in a grey haired slightly more mature piece of crumpet for my birthday or Christmas, whenever he arrives.

Good old Bastille Day. Vive la Revolution. The clack of knitting needles. The clunk of falling heads. The drums of social war. The rich hiding out. The poor trying to find them. The inevitable rise of one maggot after the other til the ubermaggot, Napoleon does them all in. He could a bin a contender for sainthood but he'd rather go to war. Then he dies. History 101 in a nutshell. The more things change the more they remain the same.

Much better to concentrate on the FrouFrou with green eyes.

ISN'T IT SOME FRENCH DAY?

Another week older and my worry lines are beginning to look like anxiety crevases.

I am staying in bed tomorrow, I mean today, with several books which I have gathered up from all over the house. I'm halfway through most of them but they're not that interesting or maybe my concentration flags easily these days.

I have taken over Mum's finances, shopping, medications and putting the rubbish bin out. I can now sign her cheques and generally fritter away her generous pension. I can tear up begging letters which sucker her in every time and especially tear up letters from the credit card bastards who tell her she's pre-approved for another $5,000 credit even though they know from her bank account that she's a pensioner.

I get to go through the pantry and re-arrange the shelves. The Brick Outhouse, being 6'4" uses the top shelf, M, being 4'11" uses the middle shelf. He doesn't look down, she can't look up. This means identical packets of everything being opened on two shelves. He can see the back of the shelves, she can only see the front. Neither look at use by dates. I don't know how they haven't died of food poisoning as some of the use bys, way at the back, are from last century. It's the same with the fridge and the freezer. I want a knighthood for the person who invents a freezer that answers when you ask "What's dying of frostbite in the left hand corner under the four opened packets of peas?" The freezer is now full of food, so it's freshly frozen food but it's this week's freshly frozen food. All nourishing, so what does she have for tea, three party pies.

I would like to bury, up to their necks in Maralinga sand, whoever decided to wrap stupid little thin pieces of cheese in plastic wrap that is impossible to open without a microscope. For company, I will put with them them, the fool who invented tri-pillows. The woman has five pillows on the bed and on top, a tri-pillow. Trying to put a cover on this is like wrestling with an anaconda. It doesn't matter what size the cover is, the pillow expands to fill it. Just for fun, I also get to iron the damn covers and I swear she has a dozen of them.

I really need tomorrow to recharge and to let the wildlife know I'm back. Lazy cat was so warm by the fire tonight that he only gave a passing glance at the two possums that were eating his cat biscuits in the kitchen. I had to get up and hoof them out. My fault, of course, I haven't been putting out their apples and bread so they've decided to eat in. It's 2.30 in the morning and now he decides to go out and patrol the yard and he'll come in and want the bowl filled.

Well that post is done, in my mind I've just written a witty and insightful disection of the political scene in Canberra so I can't help it if you're reading drivel.

CYBERSEX

First we have an online game called Second Life. The game provides the software tools to design 3D avatars. The players can then write their own programme to create their own unique character, unique hair, clothing style, cars, boats, you name it. (That's me up there ruling my own world) But some gamers are using the the tools to add genitalia and erotic outfits for engaging in cybersex. After setting yourself up with the outfits etc. then you have to find a willing partner within Second Life's sex rooms. You can't just barge in, strangers aren't exactly welcomed even when you do find the sex rooms. Once in the virtual sex world the gamers can explore sex and fantasies which they wouldn't do in the real world. It sounds great to me, sitting at home with a shot of vodka, hair in curlers and a comfy dressing gown and indulging in 3D cybersex with someone 4000 miles away.

It didn't take long before games developers teamed up with the pr0n industry and released erotic multiplayer online games, like Red Light Centre. These games are sex oriented to appeal to players who don't know or don't have the time to create an erotic character and sex is online from the moment they sign up. The sex here stays inside the game. But a new game, Naughty America will tie cybersex to online dating. Subscribers fill in a questionnaire to set them up with suitable people and they'll use the cybersex game before meeting in real life. (My skin is crawling now)

In Second Life everything is created by the gamers and it is a second life away from reality so sex is not an official part of the game. The players like this aspect, a sort of forbidden fruit as it were which is more spontaneous than going straight into a sex oriented game.

Ren Reynolds, is a UK-based virtual world consultant and player of Second Life who says if you can get the obsessive passions of sex and game playing right, you can make a fortune.

That's what stopped me from investigating this cyber world, the cost. If I had that much money to have fun, I'd be running a permanent grogblogging floating party, better than sex.

THE QUESTION

Some human beings will fight and kill each other to grab the last breath of oxygen left on earth.

Some human beings will share that last breath of oxygen.

You can throw all your philosophical, theology and metaphysical questions off the highest mountain.

It doesn't matter how we live with religion or without because we all die the same way: we stop breathing.

There is only one question............

Are you a grabber or a sharer?

SNOOPS

NEW SCIENTIST...JUNE

"I am continually shocked and appalled at the details people voluntarily post online about themselves." So says Jon Callas, chief security officer at PGP, a Silicon Valley-based maker of encryption solftware. He is far from alone in noticing that fast-growing social networking websites such as MySpace and Friendster are a snoop's dream.

New Scientist has discovered that Pentagon's National Security Agency, which specialises in eavesdropping and code-breaking, is funding research into the mass harvesting of the information that people post about themselves on social networks. And it could harness advances in internet technology - specifically the forthcoming "semantic web" championed by the web standards organisation W3C - to combine data from social networking websites with details such as banking, retail and property records, allowing the NSA to build extensive, all-embracing personal profile of individuals.

I've seen MySpace and Friendster and if that doesn't rot the brains of the NSA, they didn't have any to start with but it shows how little the U.S. Intelligence agencies care about the Constitution they're supposed to be protecting. New Scientist doesn't say if England or Australia are moving along the same lines but since they're always 2 inches behind America, it wouldn't surprise me. I should make it easy for them. John Howard is a lying snivelling little troll who leads a diverse group of other trolls, goblins and bootlickers. When you come to get me ASIO, knock first I sleep au naturale.

I'm probably on the list anyway, I come from a long list of horsestealers and sheepknappers. The horse stealing side of the family is having a reunion and they want me to come. I had to decline, it's my day for having bamboo slivers jammed under my fingernails and the excitement of two big events in twenty-four hours would be too much for me. Besides I have this thing about being in a room with people who haven't enough brains to give themselves a headache.

Anyhow I have a computer to socialize with, I don't get germs that way. Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean my fellow bloggers, I meant normal people who have germs. I found out today that there is a new entry for the dictionary. I am officially a 'mouse potato', one who spends a great deal of time using a computer. It's better than meeting family.

SHE'S BACK......AGAIN

I'm back on pill duty except this time I'm doing it with colours. The first phone call of the morning goes something like...."I can't quite get the pills again." Me...."Take the fat pink one, the round orange one, the round white one and the two colours of green long one".....as I listen to fumble, fumble and counting. "I take the four at once with water, dear?" Dear resists temptation to say hemlock and listens while Mum takes them. All clear and the phone goes clunk. She rings back, "Did I hang up on you or did you hang up on me?" The day is looking good.

The bad news is it seems to be catching. I stood in front of the ATM and couldn't remember one digit of the pin number I've been using for fifteen years. I walked inside the bank and got a new one, it was easier. I can remember her 7 pin numbers and passwords and medical history back to 1975 but my four number pin is gone forever.

It's the doctors' opinion that this is acute brain syndrome, an after effect of the UTI which was much more severe than we thought. It should clear up within 2 to 3 weeks but for that remaining time she'll still have psychotic episodes but nowhere as bad as last week. The poison from this type of infection especially where the immune system is shot goes right through the body until it hits the brain. I'm beginning to wonder how many older people, in the past, have been diagnosed with dementia instead of this and gone untreated until they were quite delusional.

I'll whisper this very quietly so the gods won't hear, things are going along well for a change. Even Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire DVD was on special for half price as was the lst season of Firefly. Now we'll see how long the average fat person can live on baked beans and fresh air.

AT LAST, THE PORTRAIT

At last, a portrait that shows the world the true face of Copperwitch. Lord, will someone remind me to cut my toenails and do I need a dye job on the tresses but all in all, a fetching likeness.

Can't for the life of me remember what Costello was begging for but I should have used the sword when I had the chance.

DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!

This is Mum and her great granddaughters taken at Easter when we started the Merry-go-round.

This morning was the usual 20 minutes of pill taking instructions and she toddled off to have breakfast. Fast forward one hour when I arrive to find her sitting on her bed with a huge box of weetbix and a carton of milk. She says there's something wrong with the bowl because she can't see where the milk has gone, by bowl, she means the box which has a spoon in it. This can't be good and it isn't. I get her into the lounge room where it's warm but she can't sit in her chair because she can't remember which way to move. She can't drink her tea because she can't remember what to do with the cup. This is way beyond even a UTI infection type confusion.

I've just spent eight hours in emergency with her. She's had a brain scan, blood tests, urine tests, memory tests, co-ordination tests. The only thing they can find is slightly elevated white blood cells and a slight excess of liver enzymes. Everything else is clear, even the cut has healed completely. Nurses and doctors would wander by and ask questions. Sometimes the answer would be coherant, other times she wouldn't remember what was asked. At one stage the doctor asked if she knew who the Prime Minister was, "That thing Howard," she answered. The doctor asked who would she prefer to be Prime Minister, "Anyone but him," she said.

She's been admitted for observation. The doctor's opinion is that there is definitely something radically wrong but as yet it hasn't shown up in the ordinary tests. So she's safe for the moment. I don't have to worry about burning toast or the microwave blowing up.

She had a student doctor who asked about her previous medical history so I handed him the list. He will really have to learn to keep a poker face. Mum wanted to know why he was wearing a party hat, need I say he was Jewish. She wasn't asleep when I left but she looked very comfortable.

I walked into my sister's place and downed a can of Smirnoff Black before I realized what it was. I can't believe I can see this screen since that would usually wipe me out. I wish I had another can now, in fact I think I'll give up healthy living, it only lets you get older. I wish I could kick Aunt Selma in her bad knee. My sister has already dealt with Aunt Patty and with great delight.
I don't like this year, I want another one.

IT'S JULY

I didn't realize it was July, one of you could have pointed it out. It's the month I turn another year older and two days of it gone already.

So we have the earthquake report for June. Another 15 earthquakes for Australia and one in Victoria, west of Darriman. It was 13 kms underground and measure 3.2 on the Richter Scale. If that's anywhere near Bacchus Marsh it's only Brownie moving house.

The Basil Fawlty method of Television repair has worked and I have kicked it into life. Yea for Inspector Jericho. It had better keep going because 7 has started Stargate again with no publicity at the usual stupid hour which means I have to tape it.

Winter has started too. It's freezing, raining, cold and I have to get the cat outside with the aid of a shovel. When's spring?

SUNDAY ALREADY?

Where did that seven days go? I know where the apples I cooked went, absolutely nowhere. After re-reading about them in that other post, I realized I hadn't eaten them so where were they? Still in the pot on the stove, brilliant but the possums had a lovely time with them last night.

I woke up with a headache which got worse taking 20 minutes to get Mum to take her pills. When I finally went to get out of bed I thought I might have had a slight stroke. One eye was unfocused and blurry. Mystery was solved when I put my hand up and nearly poked my eye out, the lens is now back in my glasses.

My sister and I compared notes and we are now working on the assumption that Mum is having anxiety attacks which can cause a distortion of memory. Her long term memory is fine so what she couldn't remember yesterday, she can remember today. She has anti-anxiety medication so we'll give her that for a week to see if there's any improvement. For anyone out there who thinks we're doing this on our own, we're not. These are things that she has been through before and recovered so there is a record. I even thought that it might be a form of post traumatic stress disorder since she was diagnosed and operated on so quickly that she might not have had time to come to terms with the cancer or the mastectomy. But it appears her mind is just a little behind on processing information. Like I said what she didn't remember yesterday, she could repeat to my sister today.

In a post a long long time ago, I said that Andrew Olexander was an idiot and I'm not taking that back. He said he was ousted from the Liberal party for being gay and was on the way to putting forward a private members bill for civil unions in Victoria. The papers had a great time with the fact that he has put his lover on the payroll and tax payers are footing the bill. The lover's wife of 27 years was shocked at him having an affair and devastated that it was with a man. So, far from doing some good for the gay community, he's now handing the fundies another opportunity to carry on about depraved gays and how they seduce good married men to their cause.

I have never been a fan of Big Brother but I would have watched tonight to see how Gretal tells all about the eviction of John and Ashley. Of all the times for the TV to blow a fuse it had to be now and not even a good kicking brought it to it's senses. I'll try again later because I would hate to miss Inspector Jericho on the ABC, a real pleasure on a Sunday night.

ADVICE WELCOME

The anti-biotics have done their job, urine is clear of infection, acute looney stage is over and even the stitches have dissolved. All good news, I wish. Mum's short term memory is all but shot. She can't remember having lunch or when to take her tablets even with me writing the time on a sheet. She's doing things two or three times because she can't remember doing them the first time. She's had a colostomy for 17 years and it's always been a barometer as to how well she is as that's the first thing she always does for herself after any illness but this afternoon she forgot how to put the bag on properly. She has always been a whizz with the phone banking system, much better than I handle it but yesterday she got really upset because they wouldn't let her call through, she had forgotten what a hash key was.

This is not the same as last week because she knows her memory has gone and it's upsetting her but only when she thinks of it and then it's gone again. For the next two weeks I will have to write down everything that she forgets, what her mood is and how long she remembers something. We have no idea if it is the cancer or the amount of medication or trauma from the surgery that's just surfacing now. My sister and I are giving her the two weeks before we have to start with the assessment system and that's not something we are looking forward to. We don't want decisions taken out of our hands and we don't want her to think we are shoving her off to some dodgy nursing home. The ideal way would be to convince her to go into respite care for a few days and be observed but I think she would resist this until she lost any resemblance of independence.

This is so hard but at the moment I can physically look after her because she can still shower herself even though I'm the one on the bottom with the towell drying her feet. That's another thing, because I'm always at the back with the towell I hadn't noticed her side on but today she turned and I was stunned at how much more weight she has dropped. She feels safe at home and she's comfortable so it's just a matter of how long I can manage. It's not fair because she's only 76 and should have more time but then I think of all those little kids dealing with this and that's not fair, at least she's had a good longish life. It is so different from my father with his cancer because he was with it right to the minute of his death. He drove his car swigging on a bottle of morphine and only gave up driving when he had no strength to use the brakes. He could have had morphine injections but he wanted his mind to be clear for as long as possible. Mum doesn't seem to have had a choice. Sorry to be so gloomy but that's what a blog is for and now that it's out in cyberspace maybe I'll be able to deal with it better.

Just to make you worry about my sanity. My father has been with us, in spirit, since this all began. There are portraits on the wall of me and my sister which have been there since we were seventeen. My picture has begun to click. The first time, my sister remarked that spirits always do that when they want to get our attention, so we laughed and asked Dad what he wanted. Check on Mum was the first thought and we found she had almost fallen out of bed. While not a strong believer, when that picture clicks, I check. My sister had a few words the other night, and propped down in front of her portrait and referred to that bloody old bat to be answered, not by a click but an almighty crack which made us both jump. She's decided to keep remarks to a inaudible muttering from now on. We could put this down to the cold or the fire being on or several other things but in all these years we've never had clicks and never a crack.