I SEE RICHES IN MY FUTURE

I was stuck in Target yesterday, in the middle of the toy department, by shoppers. My fault for taking the wrong aisle to layby but the place is so maze-like I expected to see the goblet of fire any minute.

Trapped in the doll section, not even in the action man section.

I see a niche in the market for a specialty doll.

A man doll that comes with detachable equipment.

The excitement of Christmas morning as the lonely divorcee sits beside the tree, ripping off the parts and jamming them back. Upside down, sideways, up its nose, dipping parts in boiling water and watching them droop. Sticking great big needles through the sensitive bits.

I could install a voice box that screams and begs for mercy.

I'll make my fortune.

IT'S ME STATE OF MIND, YOU SEE

Headline from my ABC science e-mail updates,

"Are redheads really doomed?"

Damn, is there anything else the world can throw at me?
I mean fat, morbidly obese, old, decrepit and now my red hair dooms me.

Imbecile!

I forgot I merely enhance my natural state of mousiness with chemicals.

IT'S TOUCHDOWN OR MELTDOWN, I HAVEN'T DECIDED YET

As if I haven't got enough trouble with MM (tm) who rings at strange hours with stranger stories and then says she's going to sleep now but always wakes up to start the cycle again.

The weather. I know it's Melbourne and it's still spring and we can have 48 season changes in 24 hours but give me a break.

Sun and warmth this morning so I hauled the kingsize wool filled doona out to the line for a sunbake which is supposed to kill all manner of germs, mites and mould that are using it for b&b.

Suddenly it's all cloud and rumblings and not my stomach but actual thunder. Damn I'm in the middle of another batch of leaf bundles (bloody council) and I have to gallop, well, hurry quite as fast as the tin knees will carry me round to the line.

I'm having a problem with the Hills Hoist. It has developed a lean to one side and has decided to rotate only one way. Bolshie bloody Hills. So the doona is on the opposite side to me and I reach up a give the line a good swing to bring it round to starboard. It rebounds like a whale researcher off a Greenpeace protester and nearly takes my head, arm and fingernails. AND it's raining AND lightning AND thundering and I'm trying not to drop the doona in the bindii that masquerades as a lawn.

I have scratches from branches, bruises from tree trunks and insults from the Hills and Mother.
I am an inch away from hiding under the bed until next year. If it wasn't for Kevvie's promised loot which I now intend to spend entirely on gin and chocolate, I'd be going under except I haven't vac'd under there for a loooooong time and I wouldn't want to disturb the ecosystem.

I had one of those nights this week when I didn't want to put my feet out of the bed. We all have those nights, don't we, don't we, right?

PEER STUPIDITY

I read the article in the Sunday Herald Sun and it really got up my nose.

12 girls from a college have gone to Phillip Island for a week to celebrate their end of school and the end of their livers by the sound of it. They've vowed to spend more than $1000 on alcohol in their week long binge and they're proud to be setting a drinking record.

One of them said she had to drive at 80km/h in third gear because of all the alcohol on board the car. She also said older people should not be surprised at the girls' level of drinking because they probably did the same when they were 18.

Another of the bunch claimed her biggest night was two bottles of rum, a bottle wine and half a slab of pre-mixed rum and cola cans. Even my ex at his best couldn't have loaded that up although he certainly tried every December.

There was a nice photograph of the girls behind a load of full and empty bottles. I hope their parents went down and kicked their backsides but I suppose that's where the money came from in the first place.

That came on top of information of a new, to me, misuse of over the counter painkillers. A look in my bedside drawer showed, Panadeine Extra, Panadeine Forte, Panadeine, Diclofenac and Oxycontin, a slow release morphine medication. I'd say the Oxycontin was way out of date now and should be ditched since it was for a pinched Sciatic nerve which I would put at 11 out of 10 on the pain scale. Diclofenac I take every night or I feel as though my hands have been in a vice in the morning. The others I take according to severity of various pains and aches that come and go. I found out that teenagers and up are taking Nurofen plus and Panadeine Forte, not in the two I take but up to and beyond 8 a day, packets of them.

This is not from any official report but from two people I know. They take them to feel numb. They take them to sleep life away, to not deal with it. They're not drug addicts because they can walk in and buy them from a pharmacy. Their livers are damaged and magnesium levels are so low they can't make it back up without supplements. They're nice young people but they can't cope with life, they haven't coped with life since their early teens and they're not the only ones using these medications for the wrong reason. Word spreads fast along the teenage grapevine.

Alcohol and pills at 18. Sorry little Miss Piss-up of Phillip Island 2008 but I am surprised.

NOT A LOL, A GUFFAW OUT LOUD

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EARLY MORNING RISER

There I was this morning, in bed, warm, just had an early morning pee, settling in for another hour's sleep. You know that sleep where you just drift away in a cocoon because it's warm and you're empty.

RING RING

Me: What?

Ma: What time is it? I can't seem to make out what the clock's doing.

Me: 7 bloody 15.

Ma: Now I can see what it says.

Me: I bought you a clock with big letters, what's wrong with it?

Ma: It ticks too loud.

Me: @%*~^

Ma: I think I got up before but I can't remember if I pressed the button and if I didn't do that then I didn't put the fire on for the cat.

Me: Terrific, we owe $400 on the gas bill and you're putting it on for the cat.

Ma: Well I do have my breakfast in there. Is it cold? What does the sky look like? My blinds aren't open.

Me: It's grey, it's cold and storms are forecast.

Ma: I'll be cold, I'd better put the fire on. CLUNK.

And after that I got up and cut down the last branch before the predicted storm. It was so top heavy with spindly branches and leaves I could barely drag it through the double gates. After that I went back to bed for a very long time.

I hurt now, again.

5.05 pm and it still hasn't stormed.

THE STATE OF THE HOUSE/OWNER REPORT

We're both a little cracked up.

I'm trying to remember what happened to Tuesday and Wednesday.

I know what happened today. Thank you to fcuknuckle taxi driver who nearly killed me. He made a right hand turn and didn't even look to the left, where I was looking. The old man in the other car had good reflexes and turned into the kerb with his foot firmly on the brake and a prayer in his heart. My driver, and I use the term loosely, never blinked or turned his head. Apparently he can't read numbers either as he sailed past my two numbered bins, a numbered curb and a numbered fence before he pulled up. I waited until he was out of sight before I called him a camel jockey. I might get him again.

Yesterday I was in the garden all day. I have had trouble with the phone and internet cutting out but before Telstra comes out to check the line I have to make sure my trees aren't flinging the wires about. They were, even though the trouble is where the line is attached to the pole across the road. The branches weren't thick so no problem cutting through except for the delicate digits not up to the job or the knees not taking kindly to standing on a pile of rocks. It was the leaves all at the top. Cut the branches and they stayed in place so I had to pull them down without bringing the line as well. Swearing was mandatory.

Her Next Door heard the swearing and asked if I needed help, after the fact, dumb bloody woman. I think she's cut down her camelias along the fence which is bad news for me since her overwatering is good for my camelia. Now I have to mulch it and use my own water. Some people are so inconsiderate.

Then the usual crap of tying them together in small bunches with cotton and having the cut ends all pointing to the gutter edge in neat rows so two burley blokes with a bloody great machine can come and chomp them in two seconds. I hate this council and my protest continues with me paying my rates fortnightly as I want not as they want.

There's still one branch to go but I needs me a chain saw. Why will no-one lend me a chain saw? It's okay now, I've divorced him, there'll be no problem. Why also the high cost of Dettol? I used a gallon on all the scratches on my arms and I have blisters.

The study light globe has blown again and the replacement new fangled globe appears to be too thick to screw in. Bugger it.

There appears to be an earwig plague.

The magpies are using my bird bath as a spa and life style centre.

Scoria rocks can be heavy so if one decides to roll them with a foot one must make sure one rolls them right up the slight slope otherwise they roll back and crush one's foot.

Scoria rocks are a refuge for flat scaley beetles, earwigs and spiders. I hope I crushed a few of them.

I hurt now. I was meant to be a princess not a peasant.

VICTORIA'S SECRET ANNUAL PUPPY SHOW

Adriana Lima is wearing the Black Diamond Fantasy Miracle Bra worth $5 million. It's sewn with black and white diamonds and rubies. It's for sale, Woot.

Heidi Klum wears diamond chains linking her two pieces of Victoria's Secret red almostjustaboutnearlythere bra and knickers. I like the Christmas bow theme.

I reckon Annie O'Dyne's outfit and mine for Halloween rivalled these for class if not in cash.

I've only published these photos for the Chair of the Fleetwood Jug Appreciation Society. Oops, the society is for the other kind of jugs, my abject apologies, I'll take down the pics if there are complaints.

IT'S MONDAY AND IT'S HALFWAY THROUGH NOVEMBER

Disasters in all directions.
Two clocks ran the batteries down this morning so I'm not early I'm late.
Get to the front gate and realize I can't go on. Mumzilla is waiting for me.
Realize I can go on by going to the pub where I'll meet sister who's on holidays and probably picking up winnings from Saturday.
Ring Taxi instead of walking.
Find sister at the first pokie machine on the right.
"Pull up a chair" says she. "I've only got Ma's phone money" say I.
"It's a hard road" says she, "use it and call it travelling money."
It was well travelled by the time I'd lost the lot and wandered down to the madhouse.
I should have used it to travel to Darwin.

She is surprised it's November. "Have I missed September?"
She was sick yesterday because she had sausages for tea at 1 o'clock. Don't even try to work that out, it's futile.

"There's washing in the sewing room." Stupid me thought it was washed washing because washed washing is usually in the sewing room for me to fold up. This time it's washing to be washed and yelling is heard along with swearing and banging of washing basket.

BrickOutHouse has the dryer full and the washing machine full from the weekend. I put the dryer on for another half hour, drag his wet washing across the road to sister's dryer and load up Ma's clothes.

So I'm standing there folding up his clothes on the washing machine waiting for it to finish and I notice the sink is filling up with water, to the top with water.
Fetch the plunger from under another pile of his dirty clothes and attack the sink.
It appears that no-one has bothered to empty the lint bag in the washing machine for quite some time so the overflow of sock debris is down the pipe, miles down the pipe.

BrickOutHouse arrives home and says my yelling is hurting his migraine. I stop yelling to think about using the plunger to see if he has enough brain to have a migraine.

Thursday I will pay the phone bill because I have ethics, bugger it.
More trouble, I have only enough gin for tonight and the gin money will have to go on the phone bill, bugger it.

PERFUME

My perfume of choice, the one I go back to every time I wander off with some alluring cheap scent in a pretty bottle that promises everything and delivers nothing.

Yves Saint Laurent's Opium.
A soft oriental. A delicious liquid cloud of incense, amber, spices and flowers. It's not as sweet or as heavy as a true oriental but its combination of rose, carnation, sandalwood, pepper, lily of the valley and clove makes me feel happy (and thin and wealthy).

YSL's Opium Pour Homme.
A quarter of the price of women's perfume or half depending on which fragrance counter I'm currently haunting.
It's a fresh oriental. It has vanilla, black currant, star anise, galangal, ginger and sichuan pepper.
It has woody undertones of Tolu balsam and Atlas cedar.

With no-one around to put this under lock and key which they do whenever I approach the women's Opium tester. I mean it's for testing, right, and that's what I'm doing, testing to see if it's fresh. I just happen to do it every time I go shopping. They shouldn't put it out for testing if they don't want it tested.

So there I was, in front of a full bottle of Opium Pour Homme and no-one to ruin the testing. So here I am now, thinking that if I run into a bloke who smells this good, my run as a born-again virgin will be at an end. There won't be much of him left either. Mind you it might'n smell as good on a male as it does on me. Top notes were nice, middle notes, a bit strong but now the bottom notes are mellowing into a vanillaryspicy
Iwanttoripyourclothesoffandlockyouinthebedroomforaweek type of fragrance.

Now to make it much better, they should remove Mr. Luscious from the Nautica aftershave gift box and put him with Opium Pour Homme. That's a package I'd welcome under the Christmas tree 52 weeks of the year.

I think I have to have a shower, I'm drooling over my arm and falling in lust with myself.

BURMA STILL A CESSPIT FOR GENERALS

The new Avon catalogue is out and I do love a browse even though most of their trash is now made in China.

They are advertising a new ring with cubic zirconias and a pear shaped ruby and my Avon lady was sure I'd love to buy that. She got too much information on where China buys its rubies.

Fortunately she's used to me asking the hard questions about where the goods are manufactured and which ones turn up at the $2 Emporium.

Which brings me to this blog entry about the latest raw deal for dissidents.

No rubies for me.

Also Stephen Conroy can stick his restrictions on internet use in his right ear.

I FEEL DOOM APPROACHING

I feel it creeping closer and that's the doom apart from the usual November "Oh God it's nearly Christmas where can I hide" doom.

I've just spent two days with mother. Thank you doctor's office who didn't call yesterday to tell me he'd be coming today. That's two days of getting a urine sample into a small bottle, too much information? Try doing it instead of reading about it.

Anyhow, Rheumatoid arthritis is making her right ankle disintegrate. If that goes, she's bedridden and I go there all the time (kill me now) or it's a nursing home. She will fight tooth and nail against leaving home.

She's not capable of making a rational decision about this and I tell you, neither am I.

PAY PEANUTS - GET MONKEYS

From today's Age newspaper about the Assisted Reproductive Treatment Bill which is coming up for the last hurdle in the Legislative Council on Tuesday.

"Many are privately complaining of being fatigued by social reform bills. Recently the upper house has had to deal with issues of abortion, stem cells and euthanasia. "It's taken an enormous amount out of us," one Liberal MP told the The SundayAge.

WHAT ARE WE PAYING YOU BASTARDS FOR?

I'm so sorry that these important issues are a strain on your pathetic little brains. These issues are important and they're not going to go away because the members can't handle social reforms.

NOT FOR A HANDFUL OF ARGYLE PINKS

That's a 41 foot high wave at a secret surfing location.

I have it set as wall paper and it frightens the life out of me.

And that's surfer Kerby Brown about to have the biggest wipeout of his career.

You'd have to be crazy.

THE NIGHT WAS DARK

It was dark but not stormy but the wind was whistling through the window.
I was dreaming about my father and it isn't the first time this week that he's been in my dreams.
I can never remember the dreams just that he was in them and they aren't dreams full of sunbeams and light. They're always dark.
It might be just that I think of him a lot around Spring Racing Carnival.
But like I said, the dreams are dark.
So I woke up out of one last night and tried to grab hold of the image before it slipped away.

When my eyes were fully opened, I could see a glow near my dressing table, a golden glow.
I'm not one to get spooked much, not a lot unless I've been watching Dean in Supernatural.
The glow didn't move, just sat there glowing, with me watching.
Me thought it would be a good idea to put my glasses on to get a good look at the glow.

Stupid bloody glow-in-the-dark hair comb.

THE RUG SHE IS FINISHED

Yes, yes, yes, at long last. I measured it in its finished state and no wonder it weighs a ton, 94 inches by 67 inches which is a lot bigger than in the pattern but exactly the same 600 squares. Now I have to find someway to photograph it.
Forget the rules about blocking it with a damp cloth and just the hands. I ran a steam iron over it on a very low setting.

A new iron is going on my shopping list now. When the last one died from old age, I decided to buy a cheap one for the few bits of ironing that I can't get out of. False economy, never do it.

There are no descriptions on the temperature dial except max and min. The water tank is so small it adds time to ironing by having to fill it constantly. The cord isn't long enough unless you're sitting on the power point. And there's no heat in it. It's heat not hard pressing that irons clothes.

So I'm looking for wattage, long cord, temperature details, ergonomic design and getting it on sale would be a bonus. I don't need an ironing board. The Matron of Honour at my wedding bought me that and it's outlasted the marriage, the husband and her friendship.

TRIVIA NIGHT

Here are some words for your next trivia night.

OTOLITH. Give up? It's an ear bone of a fish made of calcium carbonate and protein that helps fish maintain their balance. As the fish grows, its otoliths form sequential rings like a tree trunk, corresponding to different times in the fish's life. The chemical makeup of each ring tells us where the fish had been living durng that time period.

PHONOLITE. A type of lava that rings when struck with a hammer.

Sometimes I read the strangest articles.

I JUST CAN'T SEEM TO GET ABOVE GROUND

Looking down the 3,100ft underground shaft of the cave near the village of Tian Xing in China.

Looking up is just as impressive. The photographer is Robert Shone of Manchester.

The world's deepest cave is Krubera in Georgia, which is 6,822ft deep followed by
Lamprechtsofen in Austria 5,354ft and Gouffre Mirolda in France 5,335ft.

To compare, the world's tallest peak Mount Everest is 29,029ft high.

I don't know why I keep finding caves to post. You couldn't get me underground if you paid me. I get claustrophobic when the lights go out in a picture theatre.

WHAT A SWELEGANT ELEGANT PARTY IT WAS

It was a great night but I nearly didn't make it. Damn I need to diet. That costume fitted where it touched and it wasn't touching much. That's not a thong I'm wearing they're full size cottontails disappearing into those buns. But I had great hair.

Sedgwick was into the fun and came in costume but got overexcited and made a perfect beast of himself. Thank the Goddess for Hot Andrew who is a whizz with ropes and knots (we never ask and he won't tell) and had him under control in no time or the party could have been over before it started.

Our lovelyAnnie O'Dyne came armed for bear but those weapons were nearly needed for bigger prey, with wings. Aren't her tatts just the most? Eat your heart out Angelina.

Lord Hughes came as the Eagle of the Ninth Legion but just couldn't keep his talons to himself. The lovelyBella gave him a swift knee to the tail feathers and he was banished to sit amongst the pumpkins with the still rampaging Sedgwick.

While the drama went on overhead, Caroline rode in on Luke, also in costume as a battle horse.

Perhaps I should have specified 'no pets' on the invitations but Jayne had her friend from the garden club under strict control having fed him several trick or treaters before she left home.

And a glow of starlight from the west brought the Muriels in to party. Fortunately Lord Hughes was still fighting with Lord Sedgwick in the pumpkins so they were able to land without problems.

A zephyr from the north brought our Middle Child and a fairy friend for company.

A swirl around our ankles and River flowed by in a costume of strategically placed lotus blossoms.

We all felt a tremor in the force so knew Robbbert had arrived in his usual guise as the invisible man but Middle Child's fairy scattered glitter to the wind in the trees and we caught a glimpse of our mystery guest.

Davo sent his apologies. He's spending Halloween sailing the Cape of Storms with The Flying Dutchman.

Phil is in a car with no brakes and racing to beat the Devil.

I have to go and lie down now. Somebody has taken my head in exchange for a pumpkin which is lying heavily on my shoulders. I'm surprised we have any pumpkins left. The mess an eagle and a beast can make while whooping it up is unbelievable. You're all invited to Halloween next year, leave the pets at home.