BEWARE THE NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

A full moon for the last night of 2009 but the second full moon for December, commonly called a 'blue moon'. It won't be seen as blue unless you've been siphoning the Bombay a little too much but the smoke from fireworks could turn it a red colour. Melbourne is expecting a thunderstorm about midnight, nature's fireworks and a lot less expensive.

But be careful of New Year wishes and resolutions, it's a powerful full moon and you might be forced to keep those resolutions.

I, personally, am not making any resolutions involving chocolates, Bombay Sapphire, losing weight, looking at nekkid blokes half my age, keeping my swearing to an acceptable level, playing the pokies and buying expensive books.

I will however be kind to all of my commenters because if you end up at this blog, you need all the sympathy I can give.

I'M FAMOUS

I always knew my inner glow came from starlight and here I am. That's the star Rigel and to the left is the Witchhead Nebula. I tell you, I've never looked better.

CHRISSY ON FARCEBOOK

My ex-daughter-in-law has started a zoo on Facebook.

Bwhahahahahahha.

Everytime I read that email, all that comes to mind are baboons and red bums.

*sniggers*

A SLIGHT PROBLEM OF PERSONAL SPACE

Forget it, my personal space disappeared long ago.
There is a new resident at the home and she has a large and loving family.
All of them turned up Christmas Day including the dog.
Now in a four bed room, everyone has a personal space, an unmarked line that one doesn't see but knows not to cross without invitation.
Daughter of new person moved her mother's large comfy chair right next to mum because she is supposed to practise speaking after her stroke. (They seem like the kind of family that is determined that their mother will be reciting Shakespeare in 3 weeks)
This is done down in the day room where everyone socializes not in the personal room space.
The daughter is a teacher of Goddess knows what, probably assertiveness training, given that mum feels she is being pinned to a wall every time she speaks to her.
They did move into the small lounge when the dog arrived Christmas Day.
Now this lady has only been there a week and the daughter took it on herself to give the other room residents, presents.
Not good, it's too soon to get an idea of what they can and cannot have. My mother is allergic to Jasmine in any shape or form and I got to her before she put the cream on her hands.
One of the other ladies has alzheimers and various skin cancers so this bombastic tart decided to rub the cream on her arms and legs for her. My sister works in Aged Care and she was horrified and said it was tantamount to assault because she wasn't family.
Now what we love about this home is the quietness (apart from Mary who swears and yells all day). The residents get to introduce their family members after a time getting to know the other residents and if they don't want to, they don't. We're not getting the chance with this bouncy broad, she bounces like a St. Bernard off a leash. It was straight in my face with an outstretched hand and a hoowdy do.

A quiet word with the DoN next week without making a big deal should do the trick.

TIS THE SEASON

All year I cement over the cracks in my heart where it breaks. It's never whole, there's always another broken piece that needs putting back. I almost make it but along comes Christmas, the great solvent, and it disintegrates with such swiftness that the flow of sorrow overwhelms the mind. I weep and mend by leaving Christmas outside the door but this year the door wouldn't stay closed and not one person mentioned his name. Time does not heal all wounds.

HO HA HO HA

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

SPIDERS AND VIPERS

Up again, 1.30 in the am and all because I couldn't be bothered grabbing the washing basket to bring the clothes in off the line. I just unpegged them and threw them across my shoulder which is how I was bitten by a spider just above the left one. It is itching like crazy even with Teatree oil applied. I missed a bite by the black spider in the letter box and I don't have to worry about that one anymore given the size of the huntsman that came out on the top letter this afternoon so it's spider season.
I'm not happy about this. Spider bites have been a worry ever since I watched that movie 'The Believers' where the bite on the star's face came up nice a red then hatched a million baby spiders out of her cheek. If this bite starts getting lumpy then I'll be ready to do a Ripley with something flaming.

My sister is black and blue. She fell from the chest of drawers, hit the bookcase, bounced, hit the bedside table and ended up jammed into a very small space. So much for washing down walls. She has strong bones, no broken hip, no cracked spine, just shock and technicolour bruises.

My mother is furious, my sister is furious and so am I. A family friend has apparently been in contact with Aunt Selma and been reporting about our behaviour for the past year. Not to mention that somehow he has managed to find out how much we sold the house for and told the hag. Even Aunt Patty was furious that he turned up at the home yesterday, invited by Aunt Selma who neglected to tell mother. So mother's marbles are in good order at the moment but as anyone who's been reading this blog will know, she was absolutely nuts for most of 2009 and this idiot has been telling Goddess know what to the moron of a sister.

I found out all of this when I arrived at the home at 9.10, loaded with hand held phone, bloody parrot bells, Christmas cards and Pavarotti videos. I was so early because of the heat and I was home by 11 but my heat didn't go down until I stopped fuming about the viper in the nest. It didn't help getting a letter from the solicitor setting out all the things I have to do before settlement day. My sister informs me that on top of everything else, we have a flea plague and the house will have to be fleabombed. At least, she's come around to my suggestion that I hire a truck and get everything here in one hit and dispose of it later. So if anyone wants a white Queen Anne dressing table with wing mirrors, email me. I also have a pine kitchen table with white painted legs and matching chairs and a slightly knocked about but still good 3 seater leather lounge with two matching chairs, sage green colour. They're free, you only have to pick them up. The cat is not for sale, ut and uts fleas are belong to me.

FEATHER TREES

This was the first artificial Christmas tree and they were originally made in Germany as early as 1845. By the mid-19th century, decorated trees were more popular than ever; however, in Germany deforestation was widespread, especially during the Christmas holiday season. It had become the fashion to chop off the tip off a large Fir tree to use as a Christmas tree; however, this practice prevented the tree from growing taller and thus made it useless as a timber tree. Statutes were enacted to limit people from having more than one tree, hence protecting the forests. With the introduction of the "goosefeather" feather tree, this problem was resolved.

Goose feathers were plentiful and these feather trees began to be produced as a cottage industry as the alternative to cutting a live tree. The goose feather tree became the first artificial Christmas tree. Metal wire or sticks were covered with goose, turkey, ostrich or swan feathers. The feather sticks were drilled into a larger one to resemble the branches on a tree.
The trees were made to resemble the locally growing white pines of the German forest and the composition "berries" on the end of every branch tip were made to hold lit candles.

The wide spaced branches of feathers, sometimes dyed green, were made to show off the ornaments and I love that this tree is full of birds. Now I've been wanting to make a feather tree for years and I collect feathers every time I'm out walking. The small trees look good in corners where a big tree dominates a room. My tinsel tree is still sitting in the wardrobe for another year but I have a Father Christmas on the mantle.

**********************************************************

I tried to make a phone call to mum this morning since the Bouvier sisters are calling this afternoon. Their hand held phone is fritzed again for the third time and guess whose mother has done it in for the third time. The first time they managed to get it back, second time, it cost $200 and now it looks as though they're up for a new one, cost $1300. I should have told them that if she was given anything remotely buggerupable to make sure she had an instruction sheet with the off button circled.

I'd just hung up my phone when I realized that mum's handheld phone is on the floor, saved from the family chuckers when I was packing up. It's all cleaned up, battery in and just needs to be charged but the phone jack part is missing and I think it's in another box that hasn't arrived yet. At least with this on the go, the nurses' station can keep the other one out of mum's hands.

Do I have to trumpet again to this family, don't throw anything away that might be useful?

WHO NEEDS A CHRISTMAS STAR

This image was taken by Bjornar G. Hansen during the December Geminid meteor shower. The meteor flashed through the sky over the island of Kvaloya, near Tromso, Norway on December 13. Not only a meteor flash but also the Aurora Borealis in full glow. The Aurora are caused by energetic charged particles from the magnetosphere at altitudes of 100 kilometres above the earth.

WELL IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO LIKE THIS...

I'd stay in bed all morning, reading magazines or hemming my dress for this afternoon but it went like this.
Ring Department of Ageing to check on how much money mum can have before it affects her pension.
They say ring Centrelink, it's their department.
Centrelink says they do this all the time when it's their department and what I have to do is scream for a supervisor.
Centrelink, sweet man, tried to to his best but could only give me a rough idea.
If after all the bills are paid and she has roughly $200,000 then they will reduce her pension since the cutoff point is $137,000.
So if her asset is now $200,000 instead of the original assessment of $351,000 then they will assess the assets again and drop the extra amount we had to pay the nursing home on top of the daily fee. And after the settlement I also have to appear in person at Centrelink with all closed accounts and the official amount of money remaining.
Are you still with me, because I was gaga by this time.
He assured me that she probably would be better off financially.
I wasn't assured at all.
Then I find out that I haven't got a something or other official to receive letters from Centrelink for mother so have to go to Centrelink in person.
But I filled out those forms for Dept. of Ageing. That doesn't matter they don't share.
So I'm off to Centrelink with passport, ring taxi, wait 20 minutes, fortunately as the postie comes and her ATM card is expiring, would I bring passport and other ID to get a new one.
Okay bus to Southland, bypassing my favourite gem store where I drool along the window.
Fix ATM card when ditsy bint finally figures out that I can have the card in my name as the card I'm using for mum is in my name.
Catch bus to Mentone and drop papers off to solicitor and trade insults with him as he's off on his Christmas holidays. I tell him not to upset a stressed out sick person who has a semi-automatic on her Santa list.
Walk to the home, dead on feet by now. They insist I sit down and have a drink. I need $1500 in a big hurry. I can barely describe how divine the chair is that I threw myself into. When you lean back into it, it rocks gently but when you get up it locks in place so you don't fall a over t.
None of the oldies can use it, they need wheelchairs. I want it, I can still feel the gentle rocking, backwards and forwards, and the pain in my back disappeared and I felt warm and fuzzy to the whole world. I want that chair, I need that chair, my life will be nothing without that chair.
Christmas Party was over by six o'clock and it was beddy time for the residents so I waste precious credits calling for a cab then have to run back inside and give mum some money.
I've already paid for my Christmas dinner so she's happy that I can't get back until Friday.
She's unhappy that I didn't drag those bloody parrot seed bells all over creation so she could watch the feeding frenzy.
And tomorrow I'm staying in bed with my magazines and a packet of jelly beans which I must have bought a week ago and forgotten.
I could really do with that chair.

THE PERFECT GIFT

Well, you know how it is when you've unpacked the groceries and realized you haven't bought one block of chocolate or tub of ice-cream so the natural thing is to browse every food blog you have on your blogroll and THERE IT IS!

The perfect Christmas gift forHawtAndrew , a gingerbread tram with all the trimmings.

YES, I'M CROOK, OFFICIALLY

No, it's not swine flu although he asked if I wanted the vac but changed his mind after listening to the song and dance going on behind my breast bone.
It's some bacterial bug that's taken up residence in my right lung which accounts for the strange little whistling noise I've been hearing.
Probably the bug version of Christmas Carols.
One bug clan decided to explore and ran through my kidneys and downhill from there. I'm sure I don't have to spell it out.
The Doc asked if I felt crook. I said yes but what I really wanted to say was, "yes, you twit otherwise why would I spend a fortune on getting a taxi down here because I couldn't get the bus because it was raining again and I feel dizzy and couldn't stand up straight in the shower and bashed my knee on the bath and didn't feel like walking".
It sounds convoluted but then I'd just given the taxi driver a $5 tip in my spaced out condition so no wonder he wanted to stick around and drive me home.
Now a tip from the walking wounded, don't sit down for a cuppa at Southland and take an antibiotic you haven't taken before.
Because you'll get halfway round Safeway and break out in a sweat and lean over the trolley like Rh on a loquat bender. At this stage I was heading for the bird bells and when I got home, it appears I've squandered $30 on those feathered freeloaders just so mother can watch reality television. There'll be so many lorikeets there next week, I'm worried David Attenborough will turn up.
I still have to head off for the residents Christmas Party tomorrow but only because I have more papers for the solicitor and I don't want to miss putting those in. Very nice strong upright signature the buyer has, well against mine which meanders across the page like a caterpillar on speed.
It had better not be raining either. I need a taxi. I'm not carrying 6 kgs of seed bells up to the bus.

RIGHT YOU LOT, SYMPATHY, IN BUKKITS OR ELSE

"Or else", it would be or else but I can't think of anything to do to youse lot that you haven't already done to yourself or will do before JollyRedFatSuit comes visiting.

Wonderwoman has officially given in and is going to the doctor's tomorrow. I think I might be ill.
At least a little bit crook. Nothing serious although the thought of breakfast isn't making me gallop out of bed straight for the fridge which for me, is kind of serious. I can't seem to make it upright for about an hour after I wake up which is about 15 minutes after I figure out what day it is and whether I have to get up.

I would like sympathy, plenty of it. I've gone off chocolate. I don't feel like having a Bombay and tonic. I'm supposed to shop tomorrow as well but looking in the fridge, I'm wondering what I ate for the last two weeks. Toast, I think, given how many bread wrappers were used as garbage bags. And the peanut butter jar is empty but the jam jar is full. If the jam jar is full, I haven't eaten any croissants. I found a mince pie in the Christmas tin and I bought those last pay day.

It might be all in my head but I can't take a chance this close to the annual pig-out day. Writing that made me feel ill.

Never mind the sympathy, send bukkits.

THE BOMBAY IS READY, I'M JUST WAITING FOR THE ICE TO TURN UP

This is the break-up of the Ross Ice shelf in Antarctica in 2000. Usually the iceberg would be caught in the Antarctic Circumpolar Current but the 87 square miles (only a third of its former size) of ice named B17B was pushed north and is now floating towards Western Australia.

B17B had broken into two smaller pieces and the larger has survived in the open ocean for about a year. It is expected to break into even smaller pieces as it moves into warmer waters. The ice shelves are not part of the Antartic mainland, they float around the edges of the continent but they more they melt and break up, the faster the glacial ice flows out from the centre of the land/ice mass.

According to scientists the berg is moving at about one knot a day. New Zealand recently issued a shipping alert after a flotilla of icebergs was seen heading toward the South Island but they drifted away to the east. Seven ice shelves have broken up in 20 years due to the warming of the ocean currents around Antarctica. While B17B has been described as a once in a century event now, in the future it may just become commonplace for bergs to be seen this near to Australia.

It reminds me of a novel written by Ken Follett called "Ice" which was a very good read. It seems a shame we have no way of throwing a tow rope onto this chunk of frozen antidote to our drought.

WHEN LOLCATS AREN'T ENOUGH, THERE'S ALWAYS A CAKEWRECK

Presenting for your spewing delight.........

Poo-Dolph, the bulldozed, slain deer.

One for the doggie bag or pick up poochie pouch.

ZE HOUSE SHE IS SOLD!

It's taken from the 19th November to 9th of December with settling date of January 15 so if anyone is thinking of selling their house, try Aitken Real Estate. They couldn't have been more helpful, they don't believe in auctions and try to match a group of buyers to a certain house.

I walked to the bus stop in the pouring rain on Tuesday to make sure the signed papers were delivered to the solicitor and I was drowned so I hopped on a bus to Southland where it was dry inside. I remembered it was cheap movie day but the line was full of little twihards so I counted up the loot and booked in for Gold Class. 2012 is a movie you have to see on the big screen for the special effects. Really great when you're sitting there watching tsunamis coming from all directions and you're right in character by being soaking wet.

Yesterday was spent dragging a 7 foot bookcase down the hallway, after I dragged out all the sewing things I'd stuffed down there out of the way. Then they had to go back but there's enough room to put the books and videos on the shelves. I have to make room for the next consignment from mother's place and that is the last. I'm still packing knickknacks for the op-shop including my own. I've donated my 16 place china setting to the home for their residents parties but who would have thought I'd need a wharfie to haul plates. The boxes weigh a tonne.
Time to pull in a few favours from anyone with a ute.

Today was paying the home to keep her there, dragging down to Mentone with 3 parrot seed bells and filling in for the bingo caller. My mother making promises I can't keep. I walked past a sparkly Christmas tree and did a 180, the ceramic tree I'd lugged down was on the sideboard and it looked fantastic. I really liked it probably because it didn't involve stringing Christmas lights and putting Christmas dolls and bears and tinsel and crap all over mum's windows.

Tomorrow I'm going to be so tired I'm spending the day in bed with several books and a block of chocolate and trying not to think about the 100 or so CDs that need to go in the CD tower or that the coffee set that should be so shiny in the mirrored cabinet is a gross shade of black or that I'm running out of knickers again.

THERE IS SOME STRESS CHOCOLATE DOESN'T HELP NO MATTER WHAT PROF. LUPIN SAYS

Saturday night brought in four good offers, well above the starting price but Monday, the agent had one of those offers go up another 5 thousand.
It was a curious thing that while she was telling me the story, she doodled on the offer sheet without thinking and had written "dad came to help". A 'curious thing' as it was the day before the anniversary of my father's death. So the buyer's father had come up with more cash than everybody else and I was happy because she intended to renovate and live in the house.
Then the waiting game begins. The deposit was supposed to be paid December lst with the financial arrangements done by December 4th but they've asked for an extension until next Friday.
No problem says the agent as they're probably going through a broker looking for the best deal in light of the interest rate rise.
Ring solicitor and give permission.
Have monumental panic attack in Lincraft. All those shiny baubles and lights and people and fecking Christmas carols shortcircuited the brain so I went and hid in the curtains until I got some control back. Yes, I was the dill with my head in a paper bag hyperventilating behind the shantung curtains down the back of Lincraft.
To round off yesterday I have a monumental fight with stupid 'let's throw everything in a skip' sister. I know why I hate mobile phones, she got to hang up on me before I could bash mine down.
Really stressed now.
How stressed? I was up at 4 a.m. eating chocolate and reading Harry Potter. Neither worked.
But staggering to the bus stop, tensed to the max, I was offered a lift by a lady who's seen me at Southland (not with my head in a paper bag, I hope). Lovely, I could get the bus from there. Another lady on the bus recognised me from Dingley Market and remembered all the craft we used to make.
An old friend of Dad's was visiting Mum and we really had a laugh about the old days when being a pool playing layabout was almost respectable. This was all good as she couldn't see the bags and dark shadows under my eyes until later. I distracted her with giant seed bells for the freeloading feathered blackmailers she loves but she doesn't miss much these days.
My brain was still in freefall when I decided to bypass sister and go to the BrickOutHouse.
Good move, he's picking me up Sunday and we're going through the house and deciding what comes here, what he wants me to keep, what to throw out and what date I ring the Diabetes collection people to pick it up. Then we'll decide on a day to hire a van and do the lot in one day, a suggestion I'd made 2 months ago to the "Skip Queen".
Stress-0-meter is now slowly sliding to manageable.
Probably won't speak to sister for a week or January.