Happy Crapday.

 I really wanted this.

 I'd have been satisfied with this.

 I'd have gone crazy if this had arrived at the door.

All I got was a jumper from the Ice Bear knitted under the influence of that LSD tab he found under the couch.

Happy Crappy Day to me.

Will somebody please slow the time down, i'm not getting any younger.

Now blogger  has pop-ups telling me about its new and great improvements, stuff it.

Some things are meant to be invented and this is one of them.  I want a dozen delivered for my birthday,  passionfruit flavour would be nice and raspberry of course.  How delicious does this look.

I hadn't realized that a week had passed since I blogged. Passing out in front of a warm fire will do that.  The Weather Bureau announced that we had more warm days in July this year than last year.  I do not believe them. If it wasn't so traumatic, I'd get last year's diary out and check but that means seeing what mother was up to and it's bad enough this year.  She was cold yesterday, that's SHE, the one who is in the warm bed talking to the dipstick who'd just come in out of the freezing July.  She has a cotton blanket, two mohair rugs and a flanny nightdress on.  She can't find her other blankets. That's because the stupid old bat made me take them home a month ago because they were too heavy on her legs.  AAAAAAAAnd here it comes, the last word as always, 'was I sure?'

So, we continue with the internet.  All of a sudden I can't log on again.  Mr. Terrribly Efficient had put in a pop-up box that won't let any updates go on without my permission which included me trying to log on.  For once Windows was a help, that'll go down a treat at Head Office when they get a yes, it was a help instead of the usual fuckoffno.  The setting was on halfway and it needed to be on high, it comes up, I say yes and internet log on window appears.  I can't believe how many apps are running along with my log on.  I still want my XP back.

Now for the scam news.  After all the drama, I get a phone call from an African, not racist, I know the accent from the girls down at the Home, he was gabbling, I yelled since this was 9 o'clock at night. Something about my computer and it was sending virus signals to Microsoft.  Another African takes the phone, the supervisor and easier but not much, to understand.  I said everything was fixed and virus scans detected nothing. He insisted that I sit at my computer and hand over remote control to him before my computer was damaged beyond repair and I passed on the virus intent on world domination.  Well that's what it sounded like.  He had the nerve to tell me not to yell, me, who yells at robot calls.  God how I miss the old fashioned phones that one could smash down and shatter ear drums.
Next day, another call, another African but much more refined in English.  Computer virus detected at Microsoft, danger of cyber crime, virus world domination, must hand over remote control or zombies will eat my brain.  They shouldn't have given me a day to prepare, bad mistake.  Which of my 3 computers is in danger.....crickets chirp.....the one you are sitting at.....I'm on the phone.....crickets chirp.....aren't all 3 of your computers at the same IP address.....of course not........why not?.......my husband, the IT consultant likes to change and test virus programmes........crickets chirp....chirp.....chirp.....clunk.   Damn, didn't get to use my last bomb.  I'll keep it until next time, that's the one where I tell him, his call will be recorded and sent to the fraud squad for performance evaulation.

 And I still want my XP back.

I am a wreck, nerves shot, need gin

Three days ago Microshit downloaded a bucket of updates which wiped out my connection to Optusnet and internet. 
I rang this morning for troubleshooting at Optus and was told they'd confer with Micromoneymakers and find out what was wrong.  Three hours later, no lunch and needing a pee, I was not a happy blogger. 
The thought of having to go shopping for a fortnight's food, do the banking in the bank, post cheques and pay cash for the rates never mind not being able to ebay and buy books had me in meltdown.
Thank you Antikva for ringing and giving me the internet address for Optusnet because you know, no internet.  And another thank you for giving me that tip about the phone which is another nightmare.
Want to get rid of something on the  Home page, hold finger on object, wait for remove to pop up and press, this takes two fingers which I found out after 5 tries.

Anyway I ring Optusnet again with the press this number, press that number, blah blah and I get this sweet little bloke who was probably 10 years old.  For a solid hour with  narry an 'oh God' under his breath, he walked me through getting my internet connection back. He wasn't sure but he thinks the updates wiped out my administrator rights so the computer smart arse decided not to recognize me even though I was still using the same swear words I always use when talking to machines.
Then I managed to lose the entire Optus broadband button from the computer. My fault, I use the mouse with my left hand so I was getting the right and left clicks mixed up.

In the finish I managed to hand over complete control of this machine to Mr. Impeccable Manners and told him to take the $7.50 in my bank account as long as he fixed everything which he now has.
He told me I could get a technician to take me back to lovely old familiar XP but he's fixed 8.1 so it shouldn't give me anymore trouble.  He said the problem is, 8.1 is very delicate and touchy, I told him to punch it into submission.  I'm a nervous wreck about turning it off after I write this blog.
If you don't hear for another week, don't worry. I'll just be cranking up the old 32 bit horse and buggy and using that.

And no, I haven't managed to make a phone call yet but they called me.  Wanted to know if I'd like to play a game, dicing with death they are.

Free tickets for the Canberra Circus.

Pauline 20th century heroine answers the call of the Queensland dinosaurs.

Ranting Saturday night because Dutton looked like he was back become lightly surprised to find him behind on Sunday, moderately overjoyed to watch his margin thin by Sunday night but still no celebration because votes are still being counted.

I suppose the post mortems have already started behind closed doors.  Blame 18s for thinking, pensioners for being scared or wealthy losing money anything but the real reason, serving their political party instead of the people who vote for them.  One of the commenters said on Saturday night that the postal votes would favour the coalition because they were more co-ordinated in sending out the information.  Not in this electorate, not one Government flyer but plenty of Opposition information including a postal voting form and return envelope.

Complaints everywhere because of the number of independants but ain't Democracy grand and nobody had to face a bullet to vote.  But of all the elections not to put in a Drover's Dog, he could a been a contender since most of the mongrel breeds got dumped.

An artist needs a good canvas...or stones

The right stones must be scoped out, found legally or thieved from gardens without fences or neighbours who have been annoying the crap out of me for the last 40 years.  I do have outdoor paint and 2 turtles, 4 gnomes, a frog and a pot waiting for a coat of said paint. Patient they are, 6 years of waiting but soon, soon.

I want to be there

I probably would fall off the rocks climbing down but the view across a whole load of brilliant sea would be worth it.  That's my eldest granddaughter on those rocks. Her father used to do the same thing except he would usually be hanging off a cliff photographing a waterfall.

Mother is back at the Home.  My sanity is creeping back, slowly.

I have a lesson for all dumbarses.  When you get a new phone, don't get the same number as the previous one until you learn how to use the new one.  Anyway now no-one can get me on the mobile because it's dead and the other isn't alive yet.

I left home around 12 to vote, not too far.  It sprinkled rain.  I stopped next door to thieve some of their flat rocks since both cars were missing.  Unfortunate to collide with them coming out of the polling booth.  Prayed bag would not slide off the walker and drop stones at their feet. Steel myself to walk into the school where my son was one of the first students, push the memories back to the dungeon and lock the door.

Voting on my feet because mother made me miss the postal vote deadline.  I mentally got the giggles as the paper was so long, it went across the bench and up the wall.  I had an image of Will Smith in Men in Black trying to  fill out test forms and dragging the table across the floor. I had pencil, paper and glasses trying to escape.  Trying to read the tiny writing was a bastard but I finally found all the people I had decided on and that included the looking after animals party.  The voluntary Euthanasia Party was voluntary, mandatory and I would have included it for mother.
If I made any mistake, I hope it was for someone good and not Pauline Hanson or Family First or any other creep party  which was hard since most of them were creep parties.

Missed buying a lovely sausage and onions, no chairs to sit on and I was beyond standing and there is no way I could steer walker and stagger with food at the same time.  I was forced to dine on the delicious odour of frying onions following me down the road. Double strength cappuccino at the local and a litre of ice-cream in the bag started me off on the last leg to home.  2 o'clock I fell in the back door.

I will be watching the ABC count with the delightful Antony Green and using the remote to delete any face I don't like.  Usually the ABC is well mannered and not like the other stations which resemble a bunch of cage fighters.  

Beware the politics of men

With all this election rubbish going on here and in the USA, women should commit this to memory.

A recent survey of Trump supporters discovered the following:

     77 percent say it bothers them to come into contact with people who speak little or no English.
     81 percent say discrimination against whites is as big a problem as discrimination against minorities.
     77 percent say discrimination against Christians in the U.S. is a major problem.
     83 percent say the American way of life needs to be protected against foreign influences.
     83 percent say the values of Islam are at odds with America’s values and way of life.
     80 percent say immigrants constitute a burden on American society.
     68 percent say the country has changed mostly for the worse since the 1950s.
    72 percent say we need a leader who is willing to break some rules to set things right.


Why am I repeating something that does not concern our election?  Because after reading some of the election material of the minor parties, I mean meaner parties such as Family First, I could replace America with Australia.  Look at Morrisson, he feels discriminated against because of his religion. He seemingly has forgotten that he chose his religion, he wasn't born with it, his genes didn't jump up and down screaming I'm a religion, I'm a religion.  Unfortunately gay genes can't scream, they're too busy hiding in case some religious nut jumps up and down screaming, he's gay, he's gay.
How many Australians would say the values of Islam are at odds with us?
How many Australians would say immigrants constitute a burden on us?
How many Australians would say the Australian way of life (booze, utes and blowflies) needs to be protected against foreign influences?
I don't know about changing for the worse since the 50s since some of our politicians seem to be still living there.
As for a leader who is willing to break some rules to set things right, sorry but I don't think we can resurrect the Governor-General who thought he would be Queen.


It worries me the percentage of people who were willing to answer this survey in this fashion and who would answer the same way in Australia.

It brings me back to the Wild Woman Sisterhood, mothers should be running the country, the CWA would be better financial managers than who we have.  Women in business who are married with children can multi-task better than Parliament.  Most women are against war but we can still fly fighters and command Navy ships but we don't take killing lightly.  Women are probably the biggest change for the better since the 1950s.  One day we will take over the world when the men have finished experimenting with ruling with half a brain, that's not each, that's between them.

Some stuff I've pondered about and learned from

I don't like the cold, like frost and ice type cold.  Reasonable cold I can take.  My bones ache and I hate people who love it because they can go skiing.  I don't see the point in skiing.  You're going too fast to notice the scenery and it's cold when you break your leg in the snow.  You can see the wisdom I'm imparting to you already.

I don't really like tattoos  but I defend your right to deface perfectly good skin BUT today I saw what happens when tattoos go bad and run amok over wrinkly, scraggy arms. The art was alright but I couldn't read the book. The letters disappeared into crevices.   Before you tatt, think old.  Before you watch those captivating ink shows, think old and scraggy.  That lovely maiden down your arm will end up looking like a ferret  down a hole when you're old.

Fat diabetic people are not ruining the planet, politicians are.  Morons here decided to make us pay for blood testing strips using some survey that says watching your blood sugar every day doesn't help at all in managing Diabetes.  Funny thing, that has disappeared from the NDSS website.  I did watch Julie Bishop at the Press Club but had to turn it off when I wanted to throw something. I watched NBC news instead and got The Donald, I think his hair waved to me.  Looking at our mob, there's not one with a decent head of hair, hasn't been since Hawke.  And then I thought of Christopher Pyne with long hair, gruesome but then Dutton would look good, his head is the same back and front. Yes, he really is a two-faced bastard.

Footballers!  Eddie, really, you're joking in a crowd of blokes and the only one you can think of to drown in ice water is a woman who wasn't even there.  It's no good saying sorry, if you said it, you were thinking it and if you were thinking it, it was hatching in whatever you use for a brain.  Perhaps a drug test might be in order for football panelists?

Taxis, my favourite form of transport.  I have my regular drivers, they usually ask, home, pub or the Home and try not to be rough with my battered old walker.  But I had a snotty one on Sunday. Very pretty silver cab, black seats, immaculately dressed driver who looked down on me and said, "You have hair on your coat".  Well, yes, I'm wearing a black cloak and I own a white cat that is like a walking snow storm.  Shedding does not describe what this cat does with his fur.  White tumble weeds blow across the floor in every room.  And why did he feel he had to mention this?  His seats, his lovely black seats in his silver cab, I was going to sit on one and leave HAIR.  I told him if I couldn't get the hair off my cloak then it wouldn't transfer to his bloody seat.  He also hated my walker.  He didn't get a tip.  And when I looked back he had taken a sticky brush out of the glove box and was going over the seat. Snot.

I mentioned the cat, he's here and it's 5.32, 32 minutes past feeding time.  Sheds everywhere but never in the food dish, too busy taking his food out of his crystal dish and eating it off the floor.

Must control temper

Staggered off to see mother yesterday.  A bad night of waking and sleeping because my feet were hurting, well, one foot was hurting and the other decided to keep it company, misery loves company.
I finally rubbed some Voltaren into the foot and the pain gave up enough for me to sleep.  
At least it wasn't raining, just blue sky and chill to the bone wind, picked up some lunch and took the short cut through the car park and got a little stone in my shoe, the one holding the bad foot.  So it was mutter, mumble, swear and I just have to make it to the seat halfway down the street so I can take off the shoe.
Honestly going from someone skipping and tripping everywhere to relying on a walker to stay upright is a real pain but it helps a lot when I'm trying to beat an old lady to my seat.  Missed it, she's sitting down and doesn't look like moving, damn.  I might have to be polite and it's hard enough being polite to all the old bats at the Home.
Really must get my eyes checked.  As I get closer  I recognize the oldie in the fuzzy jumper and ugg boots, my sister. This is not the first time I've mistaken her for a bag lady with a trolley although the trolley was her art class essentials.  She spends about 20 minutes a week with mother and was sitting down because she saw me coming, apparently her eyes are better than mine.
I showed her a photo of my granddaughter then a photo that Queen Bitch of the Universe had posted on Facebook about how lovely it will be to hold her grandchild.  Did I get sympathy?  Not a bit, got told she didn't want to read anything about it and I really should move on and ignore the whole family.  Now that's a good idea and let's start with sisters.  So up she gets and off to art class still looking like a bag lady throwing her moderately wobbly fat arse from side to side and flopping in the ugg boots.  Unkind of me to think that there comes an age when one should really kick the platinum blonde long hair habit and a bit hypocritical since I'm two years older and still dyeing mine "Pilbura sunset".
It's the attitude that gets to me and make me want to smack her sideways into next Sunday. 
Even as children she would could get me to 'frothing at the mouth' stage and I did put my foot through a glass door trying to kick her to death.  
Must control temper until I find some stairs.

She still surprises me.

We were discussing the crocodile and shark attacks last week and mother says "I've held a crocodile."
It was a struggle but I did clang my jaw back into place.  There were no dates on these photos so I had to go by the clothes and the fact that she was in the Day Room when the Reptile Farm came to visit.  She must have been 82 when they dumped that crock in her lap and she was not impressed. Can't think where I was that day, hiding under a rock?
 

 And then a goanna impressed her not at all.  These were all a surprise to me and of course, she doesn't remember anything except they were horrible to touch and no, she didn't want to play with them.  Who in their right minds would bring reptiles to a high level care facility for the residents to look at and then put them on their laps.  

The turtle wasn't too bad but she remembered that its head moved all the time so she never knew where to put her fingers.  She's like me, if they were made of cake all would have been fine.

She refuses to leave her room now.  She hates seeing how the residents she knew have all gone down hill mentally and physically.  Up against them she looks like she might make 100.  Somebody kill me now.

Community notice.

I am tired and emotional and that's without the gin.

I hate this election and all who rode in on it.

They're all liars.

I am going to be a great grandmother.

And not one of the fucking family including the mother to be has bothered to tell me.

I lost a son, my granddaughters were taken away and now another child will never know who I am.

And they are a fucking God loving Heaven is ours sanctimonious Christian family.

Sometimes it's a pleasure to be a Pagan.

Always leave room for Karma

Peter Dutton
Member of the Australian House of Representatives
Office: Minister for Immigration and Border Protection since 2014

No, not defacing my blog by putting his ugly mug here.  But we all remember his snide remarks about the water lapping at small islands, don't we.

Sydney's storms this week.  

Feel something Dutton?

That's Karma, ripping your testicles off and stuffing them in your mouth.

Sunday selections without the rules.

As fond as I am of having a lap pool, I could make do with this lovely spa with a view.  As you see it was the strawberries and chocolate that caught my eye first. Never thought these words would leave my mouth but the TV will have to go, it's spoiling the view.

Now for a luxurious afternoon tea, I will be bringing on the bling as in my Swarovski crystal covered coffee cups and they will go beautifully with the cake.

This cake.  Chocolate coated sponge layers with hidden mousse centre and various types of chocolate coated strawberries and raspberries for the whiners who don't like strawberries.

 I did think of having a BBQ but honestly the work involved when I could be gossiping over cake wasn't worth it.  And who wants to dirty up a $163,000.00 gold plated man's toy.

Champagne?  Only for decoration, covered in Swarovski to match the coffee cups (or tea if you're going to be fussy).  I can't stand flowers wilting all over the place and the only alternative I could think of that we'd all like, HighRiser covered in crystals and holding a plate of sweeties, was too much trouble.  I'd have to drug, kidnap and cover him in Swarovski then tie him to a pole (could have worded that better).

Dress is formal, I'm paying.  Shoes, kick them under the luxury couches.  Fenstar DeLux, I thought of you the the minute I saw this.  I wouldn't care how much it cost, it's so you, in fact it's so you, are you modelling steampunk on the side?

 River, it was a struggle to give this up for you.  I mean a Stargate swimming pool!  But I went for the spa with the view and let you have the pool.

And what else for Elephant's Child but crystal mother and child penguins.  I wasn't looking for penguins but got off track and suddenly had penguins pages open all over the computer.  How to choose!  In the middle of this I found an article about penguin fossils in Victoria, we have them up to the wazoo and some were as big as a human.  Ditch the fairy penguins, lets have the biggies.
 

And we having afternoon tea here, my woman cave.  Love everything about it, especially the shape and the book shelves.  I'll look for a lovely 'lazy susan' round coffee table, gold plated as we have Swarovski crystals.  I don't want to go overboard. 

Hello again, dear friends (anyone left)

I have been a bit off the planet for the past couple of weeks.  I really needed to be sick, in a deck chair surrounded by servants and watching the water.  I'm sure I would have recovered much quicker.
I have done so much running around for mother since the new people took over the Home that I finally fell in a heap.  Real fun trying to sort out 3 different types of pain and treat each one.  I was worried about one thing.  Sister used to tell me about the ward cat, he always slept on the bed of the next to depart, never leaving until the spirit did.  So the Ice Bear slept with me for 3 days, always with one paw on my arm then on the 4th, he went back to sleeping on my chair.  Spooky.                  

So today I ran about for myself.  I've been saving for a new toilet was half way there before I went to the pokies on Saturday as one does after being locked up for two weeks and only a visit to mother to break the sick monotony.  I talked to the lady beside me after she had a nice win and crap to her for telling me she'd just won 2 grand on a machine downstairs but my minor win was just as good for me.  On the way to cash out, I put $20 in a shiny new machine and bells and whistles dinged as I won a jackpot. I nearly banged the collect button through the machine, I didn't want temptation because I'd just won a brand new toilet. (I really hoped I didn't yell that out loud) I was out of there in a flash and counting what I had saved at home.  This is just not your ordinary toilet, it's 48cm high for people with long legs or crapola knees and it better be worth the $745.00.  Now I just have to save the money for the plumber although  he agreed that I should get the essential first and we'd work out the rest later.  I did take a photo with me to make sure I was getting the right fitting and how embarrassment, standing in that shiny white spotless showroom with a photo showing up the dust and dead spiders under the S bend.

Kept going to Southland and my sister rings and my mobile drops dead.  I mean, it's only 12 years old but it wasn't keeping the charge longer than 2 or 3 hours which was all I needed when I was out, for the Home in case mother did decide to ride the stairway.  What a nightmare to get a new one. I went for the Post Office not Optusnet because they don't like pre-paid customers.  Last time they told me to go next door to Big W and anyway if they'd asked me the number I couldn't remember it because it was on the dead phone.  I'm glad the PO wasn't busy, the girls hadn't seen anything so old and couldn't get it open to check the sim card.  Apparently sim cards are smaller now but they weren't allowed to open the new box unless I bought it and the sim card wouldn't have my number. Guess what, the old one is on charge and I'm still unpacking the new one.  What does it matter if it's a different number, I don't have anyone ring me, I'm unfriended on mobiles.  I do need the numbers on the old phone.  It just takes me time to adjust to anything new, the battery has to go in then the sim card then call to activate then put money in etc etc.  And it's a slide phone, looks like I'll be taking the instructions around with me for a while.  Why do they make things so difficult, like the computer, I was very satisfied with XP so why didn't they give us non-nerds the option of staying with XP and letting the tech nerds go to Windows 10.  I gave Windows 10 3 days trial and then wiped it.  I have a desktop, no ipad, tablet, iphone, laptop, or whatever the Hub is.  I want my XP back.

And Reece Plumbing wanted $55 to deliver a toilet approx 3kms after what I just paid.  They should have been overjoyed to carry it here on their backs.

I feel better, I'm eating ice-cream again  but can't look chocolate in the face.

Or immigration minister Dutton, what a steaming pile of merde.

But Miss O'Dyne sent me a postcard of Port Fairy, that made me happy.

I'm glad it's going to be a long campaign

I can't credit this but thanks for the clarification.

I've always voted for the same party in the lower House but gave more thought to the Senate until I read an article written by Antony Green on how preferences are allocated.  But after much laughter about the Indies elected last time, most have done the hard yards and now come across as a lot brighter than originally thought.  The same can't be said about some of the major party Senators.
So for the first time I'm damned if I know who to vote for in this election.  What a motley mouldy bastard bunch of self serving bludgers - both parties. And the Greens made a deal with the LNP, street cred zero.

Yes, I am concerned with asylum seekers, yes, I know all the arguments about people smugglers but count up the amount of money used every day to keep these people in detention and don't tell me that it couldn't have been used in wiping out people smugglers in the first place.  And don't tell me that that amount couldn't have processed all asylum seekers in a short period of time instead of making them so desperate that they took a chance on being killed to get to safety in this country. And surely we have enough hell holes in Australia if we need to lock them up.

And then we have all the other rorts going on. I won't miss Bronwyn but I will bring her up every time a government minister calls pensioners hangers on or bludgers.  And big Clive, will I live long enough to see him in court for theft and fraud?  And thank you L and LNP ministers for environment  for not having the guts to stand up and say no thanks to miners, we'd rather keep the Great Barrier Reef to look at and frack off from the best farmland for food production.  Do any of our electeds have a spine or a bullshit detector to keep them out of the muck they're making for us?

And I must make mention of the Australian Christian Lobby.  Keep your noses out of Parliament and look to your own places of worship and money making.  Whatever your religion, Parliament is secular and if elected park your belief system in the House car park and pick it up after the session is finished. Since most of your outdated religious beliefs have a greater impact on women than men, keep it to yourself.  Once elected you are supposed to represent the people who put you in the seat regardless of how they worship or not worship.  Since some/all of you still insist that your views must be taken into consideration when in debate then a large denominational button should be pinned to your chest, it'll make it easier to know if the views are yours or coming from a higher power.

Bored now?  Probably this is as much junk as you will get in a session of Parliament and about as brilliant but I'm still in the same predicament about voting and after PUP last time round, I wouldn't even vote for a drover's dog.

Spike's immortal words....

I told you I was sick, I just decided I was too sick to go to see Doc Marvin until yesterday when I really felt sick and it was an $80 visit.

My thanks to Robbert for his brilliant job of blogsitting. I know I can always count on him to fill a space or should that be vvaaccuumm, there that takes care of how many letters in that idiot word.

Apparently I have two nasties battling it out for the pleasure of knocking me off and I'll find out on Tuesday when they've been cultured, as in petri dishes, not a dram of single malt and a reading of Tolstoy.

So I have tablets, take half an hour before food.  Bwahahahaha says my stomach who relies on its own timeline of when food goes down.  The name of medication is Norfloxacin and I am not looking it up, not after the last lot of antibiotics that came with 5 pages of side affects.  The stickers on the side of the bottle tells me all.
"This medicine may affect mental alertness and/or coordination.  If affected do not drive a motor vehicle or operate machinery"
"Avoid excessive skin exposure to sun and sunlamps while being treated with this medicine"

Great advice for someone who can fall over a draft sweeping across the carpet and is so mentally alert it takes me 10 minutes to recall what day it is when I wake up.  As for the sun exposure, walking to the letter box should do me in, considering the square metres of skin keeping my innards from circling the earth.

I've only taken two tablets but already I feel much better and have stopped going to sleep every time I sit in a chair.  Can't count the times I've come out of a coma trying to answer the tv remote instead of the phone.  Today I felt well enough to put sheets and doona cover on the bed, that's just on the bed, not actually on the mattress or doona, maybe tomorrow.  And since I'm not mentally alert, it doesn't matter because I can't remember the last time I changed them anyway. The best way to tell that is to watch the bedbugs hauling backpacks to a cleaner living body.

You want to know how sick I am?  There's a litre of coffee ice cream in the freezer and it's been there for a week.  I ran around like a crazy sick woman looking for a pair of knickers that didn't have holes in them just to see the Doc and found them all in the dryer and mentally I can't remember when I did
washing or what I'd been wearing.  Explains the knicker incident on the way to the Home when the elastic died of old age.  

Doc told me to stay home and rest for a few days.  This might be due to the infection or his eye roll when I told him about stabbing myself in the foot with a pencil or my having pizza two days in a row in my food diary.  My explanation that it is vegetarian and I eat half one day and half the next and to me it's just like having a hot salad sandwich two days in a row.  Lordy, that man could eye roll for Australia. 

So I get to stay home, read a book, make the bed and take time to figure out how I can disguise a litre of coffee ice cream as wholesome food.  I could pretend the chocolate covered almonds are lentils except that brings back memories of the last time I ate lentils, I won't bore you with the gory details.
I'll go half and half with yoghurt and call it yoghurt dessert made from yoghurt and other stuff. 

I wouldn't be too sure about that.

My mind can wander anywhere and usually does when I'm not looking which is why I walk into walls and fall over cats.  But I woke up this morning and my mind had definitely been wandering and had totally walked all over someone else's dream.  I knew the person involved, haven't seen her for years but she was having a weird dream and I was watching it and walking through it with a few comments for good measure.

It's still in my mind now and boy, did she look old.  There were no mirrors so I assume that I looked fabulous.  But still it was strange.  Fenstar DeLuxe, I may have to book a session with you.  Do you do dreams of weirdness?  And no, Andrew, you weren't involved, that would go way beyond weirdness and sanity.

It's time for some intellectual dignity on this blog.

Columbian artist Fernando Botero (19 April, 1932) has an unique style of sculpting and painting.

How I would love this cat at the entrance of Parliament House, the idiot's door, you know the ones we stupidly voted for.  Every time a person tried to enter, bright laser eyes would shine and a voice would say "IQ undetermined. Common sense negligible. Pass politician".

 His rotund subjects are easily recognized as by Botero.  I've always wanted to be an artist's model especially if the artist looked like Leo DeCaprio which Botero doesn't but he painted big and my portrait does me justice.  No wonder I have crushed bones in my feet.  I saved your eyesight by leaving out the lavish nudes of myself, not just paintings but sculptures, all plus size.  The man had talent.

Oh yes, that would have been my kid, all curiosity.

I only said dignity, I didn't say tasteful.

He's got big feet though, so much for that old wife's tale.

The week in photos through a gin bottle

I was looking for something else and came across this.  It's all yours Andrew, because it will drive you crazy with the search engines to find out if it is true.  Russia has a big girl ballet company and she is a star.  With all the carry-on about obesity, the company might have to close because they are running out of big girls.

 Miss O'Dyne is unwell so I am posting a photo of Lily the goat. She's up in the paddock where Miss O'Dyne has an old trailer with a tarp on top to keep the rain off.  But you know goats, she is jumping down off the tarp where she has made herself a nice sunny hammock.

Margaret Whiteangel has been highlighting Port Fairy on her blog.  I loved this little town but it's probably changed somewhat since I was there in 1996 and this was the closest image I could find of the cottage where we always stayed which was called Lavender Cottage in Sackville Street. This one backs on to the river. The boys were too old to come on holidays with the old fogies and so glad I am when I think back on what horrors they would have done. The river, the back calm beach, the rough front beach,  I would have been lying down with a cold cloth on my head with the tension. No tower hotels here but I wouldn't have put it past them to try and climb the lighthouse.

Elephant's child is also not well so here is something to make you feel better.  A ginormous green freezing cold iceberg with a sprinkling of penguins. 

How could I not think of River (not well either) when I found this T-shirt.  I would have given this to Elephant's Child but she already has two cats so qualifies to be crazy already, a third cat might tip her over the edge.

Now that the horrendous month of March has passed, a month according to my stars that was going to be one of the star months of the year and absolutely wasn't, I might be able to be sensible in my blogging if I don't get ill or there are no mother emergencies. It's been a painful few weeks for us bloggers, change of seasons?  I know that having sinus at one end and cystitis at the other made it very dangerous to sneeze in the street. It couldn't possibly be the fact that we are getting older or maybe it's the horrors of another election where a drover's dog looks more intelligent than the parties we're supposed to support.  That must be it, I'm depressed just writing that.

Some people are so needy

Of course I didn't forget Andrew but you were on holidays and I didn't get a holiday but now you're home and away from children.

Enjoy and I'm sorry but I couldn't resist half unwrapping it.