CIVIL WAR SOLDIER

This is from the ex's side of the family and I was lucky I had a couple of copies made. It was a tiny photograph tucked in the family Bible and I had it photographed to get a negative. The Bible was one of those huge Victorian decorated ones but it was thrown up into a musty cupboard and left and when I finally got my hands on it, a lot of damage had been done. None of the photographs were labelled, a piece of silk supposedly from a flag made during the War of Independence couldn't be verified but the marriages and deaths had been filled in, after a fashion.

Even though the outside cover was made of tooled leather, the spine was broken in places and it was fragile to handle much. In one of my more genius moments, I consulted with a carpenter friend about making a Bible Box to keep it in. My idea was to make something that would fold out, letting the pages be turned but not actually having to pick it up. We finally came up with the idea of using piano hinges. The sides of the box were fixed but the front, top and back side were fastened with the hinges and the whole lot folded out flat, making it easy to go through the pages but never moving the book itself. My father-in-law who had shown no interest in the family history before, said thanks very much and took the box home (I paid for it) along with all the photographs and documents that I had put into acid free paper. He was a selfish old creep.

But I had kept copies of this photo but not the document that came with it although I copied the words. He wasn't from the South but from Chicago and that's all I know. From Civil War history I would say it was taken by one of the battlefield photographers as many of the soldiers were.

His first name I don't know. This poem was written by R.W.O. Rutledge, on the 20th of October, 1863.

The impress of my face I send
to you - just to impart
that good or bad its lines
portend
An index of my heart
And you who knows that heart so well
Can judge it to be true
That turning still and looking full
It fair would look on you

Impromptu, as I seal this letter.

That's another project on the backburner to look up any battles around that date and try to trace Officer Rutledge even though he isn't my side of the family.

GLASSY

Bombay Sapphire, yummmm. I wasn't looking for gin, I just wanted a party image for the weight loss post, 131.7kgs and I found this at http://www.petercrisp.com.au
He is an Australian glass artist who makes the most gorgeous glass objects including a dining set for HRH Chuck and Chick which is called Camelot. When you visit the site click on special commissions.

131.7 isn't all that much from last time but we're into the 131's and heading down. I have new digital scales, on sale, $60 off. I didn't bother with the other WeightWatcher scales, I don't have to know my body fat index, it's big and besides they cost $20 extra. Just to make sure they were good I carried them to every flat surface in the house and always the same weight. No more walking 6kms in the cold.

I have a birthday next month, any donations for a case of Bombay and one of Peter Crisp's martini glasses will be grabbed with both hands and kisses on your feet.

LEGEND

After writing about Ridley Scott's 'Legend' I decided to go back and read his take on making the film. In one of the book sales I used to haunt when I had money to spare, I picked up Paul M. Sammon's book "Ridley Scott, Close Up, The Making of his Movies".

Legend was the first film he made after Blade Runner (another favourite) and was originally to be named "Legend of Darkness". After an extremely bad test audience review, Scott was forced to cut 20 minutes from the film ruining its continuity and in Scott's words making it "a bloody disaster".

It was disappointing in theatres but was popular with home video viewers, generating numerous websites with one of the best FAQ site being http://www.figmentfly.com/legend/index.shtml

One of the features that I loved was the ever moving golden wisps through the forest which added to the fairy/dreamland quality. Scott did this by chopping up duck feathers, letting them float against the backlight of the sets.

The film also has, in Annabelle Lanyon, one of the fairest fairies ever put on screen. She makes Julia Roberts' Tinkerbelle in Hook look like an elephant with wings.

Scott's idea for the make-up for Tim Curry's 'Darkness' came from Walt Disney's Fantasia. The winged horned demon from the 'Night on Bald Mountain' segment. While I love that music now it was another childhood nightmare for me.

Variety reviewed the film in August, 1985, calling it a lavishly produced but thin scripted fantasy but not condemning it altogether. The review also praised Jerry Goldsmith's score which had been replaced in the American release with a "New Age" score by the German electronic group, Tangerine Dream. Goldsmith didn't speak to Scott after that. There is a Director's Cut on The Ultimate Edition DVD and Goldsmith's score is restored.

I can't remembered whether I have the European or American version so it's into the video library to hunt it out. Even with Tom Cruise in it, I love the film, in fact it's the only film with T.C. that I do like.

WHEN BUDGIES GO BAD

I know I risk the 'curse of the ghey boy' in bagging our Kylie but lordie will you look at that dress. I'm aware that she's called the singing budgie because of her size not because her knees look like they belong on a budgie. I swear those knees could bend backwards and she wouldn't fall off a perch. Bleeech on the hair and the awful shoes.

I'm chuffed she looks grotty. This tart is the size of the lard I still have to lose off my bod. So money, botox and a figure still doesn't make for good taste. Did I mention that I'm chuffed she looks grotty?

Thanks to 'Gofugyourself' for always finding the right wrong picture.

FAT LADY DOWN again

Stupid wind, bloody gumtrees throwing gumnuts all over the place. Stupid me for not seeing the gumnuts, being the same colour as the concrete. Stupid me for not expecting gumnuts when the tree is over the other side of the street and four houses up which is why I never cross there until I pass the tree.

True blogger that I am my first thought was wishing for a camera phone as the sight of a landing blimp must have been spectacular. At least it was fast, one foot on a nut and the law of gravity was proven again. I didn't fall flat on my face, that's next to impossible with the rack I'm blessed with but my nose was close enough to count the ants getting out of the way.

Total damage, two grazed palms, grazed leg, something ligamental on the other leg with something anklely. Dignity, intact, since no-one was around to see the fall or the getting up part.
That hurt. I would have rolled over to the grass but the neighbourhood mutts had done their bit for the environment so it was the hard pavement or nothing.

I must be getting better at this falling lark. I only snivelled a bit, didn't go into shock and hauled myself up in a trice. I checked the knees first, gave the right one a bit of a bash to put it back on it's track and that's the one that's giving me curry at the moment. Neck's out a bit come to think of it, left side.

Now the next imbecile that tells me that walking is good for weight loss is likely to get a good kick, low down, I don't high kick as well as I used to. I was in a hurry to catch the bus thanks to the Taxi Directorate that sent me a letter telling me to make alternate travel arrangements since I was nearly out of my allowance. More imbeciles, as if I would use all that money out of a pension if I hadn't needed to. I was going to sneak off to see 'Pirates' because of computer troubles and I thought a bit of fresh air and Johnny Depp might do me good. HA! HA! double HA! I kept going, I was closer to the bus stop than home and Westfield had a book sale.

Now for the computer trouble, ever since the last dial-up 5 hour download for updates from microsoft, I've been getting this message when I try to print from the Internet.

Internet Explorer Script Error
An error has occurred in the script on this page
Line 93
Char 1
Error Access is denied
Code 0
URL res://c:\WINDOWS\system 32\shdoclc.dll/preview.dlg
Do you want to continue running scripts on this page?
Yes No

I located the file and I can't open it becausing it's a running program or something. Anybody know who I email to get this right? The only good thing, I found the font file I've been trying to back up on CD. Is it from my printer or HP or Microsoft? Please help the computer illiterate.

THE CHILD WITHIN

I should have said children since I feel multiple personalities live within my mind at times. 30 years since StarWars and I still watch it when I feel a bit crook or I want to get close to the son that's gone, birthdays and such.

So yesterday I put on Layby two DVDs with 6 of my favourites twitty movies. Beetlejuice, The Goonies and Gremlins followed by LadyHawke, Willow and Legend. Tom Cruise hates Legend which is a good reason to like it in my book.

I already have these on tape but in my obsessive compulsive way, I want back-up. The tapes are wearing out, I have to stagger the viewing times. My StarWars is original without the arty-farty things George felt compelled to put in later, just because he could.

Forget the multiple personalities, I just have an escapist personality. It's no good taking me to see anything that resembles "real life", "gritty" or people interacting like real people. Booooring!
I want fairies, way out costumes, space ships, intergalactic romance and most of all, happy endings.

I sobbed when ET died, I sobbed when he lived, I'm still doing it. There's nothing like a really good bawl after a happy ending. There are some films that I don't have to see right through, usually the end will be enough to set off the sprinklers. The only films I won't see are animal ones. I'm still traumatised from "Old Yella" not to mention Tarka the splattered otter. Black Beauty will live in infamy and will I ever forget 'Gallant Bess' swimming frantically through the surf after the departing naval ships. I mean they lowered the door at the back and she clambered on board but not before my heart broke in two.

Forget realism, the world needs more fairies, magic wands and a few lightsabres.

IT WASN'T ME

That's right, it wasn't me splashed over the pages of the Herald Crum today.

I didn't get fined for running a brothel without a licence.

My hair isn't short and blonde and I don't wear sunglasses.

I'm smart enough to make it legal.

MORE ICE

These are three views of the same green iceberg near the Amery Ice Shelf. I blogged about the breakup of this ice shelf in January which is a reasonable month for looking at all things ice related but not now when my feet are freezing.

I love icebergs which is strange because I hate the cold but put an image of a berg anywhere near me and I'm hypnotised. There's just something about the sculptured shape of a very old berg that's been floating with the current for five or so years. It's lost the raw edge of newly calved ice and this green translucent colour is so rare.

Phosphophylite is a crystal from Bolivia and in the raw state is the only thing in nature that I've seen that comes close to these icebergs. In fact I've only ever seen one specimen of this gem which I bought for a friend who was into crystal healing. I can still remember seeing it in the shop, pardon me while I wax poetic, but it truly did sing to me like a siren sitting on top of one of these bergs. It wasn't smooth, it was sharp, spiky and only in the very centre did the colour concentrate into this wonderful pale green.

GREEN ICE

Lovely object isn't it? It's a green coloured iceberg and very rarely seen. Scientists haven't been able to agree on what gives the ice its green tinge. It's been attributed to layers of very fine sediment particles or optical effects but since a green iceberg stands out among white and blue icebergs under a variety of light conditions, the optical illusion theory hasn't stood up.

Green icebergs become visible after "normal" looking icebergs have capsized, displaying the layer of marine ice underneath. Marine ice forms the floating ice shelves the underneath of which is a nursery for algae which is another theory for the green colour.

Another polar mystery which might be solved given the increased disintegration of the ice shelves due to the warming of the Arctic and Antarctic oceans.

BIRDS DO IT

Bees do it.

Even lesbians and gays do it.

Mikhela and Lovergirl from Badbandicoot.blogspot are eight weeks pregnant with twins.

Kelly and Sam Pilgrim-Byrne from TheMuriels. blogspot have reached their half way 20 weeks with their baby girl.

Talk about love in bloom.

THE SECRET

Apparently I'm fat because I'm thinking fat thoughts.

Oh righty oh!

I should be thinking better thoughts.

Thinking..........

That's better.

Anybody wanting a job in this Madam's high class establishment catering to middle-aged ladies and their needs, please apply to the blog. Must have good teeth, bathe in rose water and ability to keep a straight face is essential.

Damn, there goes my secret.

A LITTLE LIGHT

I have a wooden faux copper two light fitting in the study. One globe shines on the computer and the other on the desk until it fritzed last week. Up the ladder again and screw in light bulb which isn't screwing because the screw fitting is disintegrating as I screw. Damn. Drag the ladder round to the other half of the fitting and try to get it to shine down. That worked, for now.

Sitting on the throne last night and contemplating the expansion of the universe when the light above me went boom. Fortunately the globe is enclosed in the glass fitting. Bad luck that I can't get up the ladder to unscrew the fitting while holding a new globe and the glass.

Yesterday the leg on my favourite made to measure for my backside chair, splintered and the wheel fell off. It's now slightly off-side propped up by two books. When it stops raining I'll go out and fetch four bricks to use and take the rest of the wheels off.

The only light today was my weigh-in, 132 kgs, on the knocker. To celebrate I think I'll go and visit some food blogs.

DID YOU KNOW...........

No, I didn't know anything about this snippet of history and the last thing I would have thought about was teeth in the Army. I mean teeth in the old days were pretty chronic in everybody but who'd have thought that a good set was part of a soldier's equipment. Grenadiers had to have front teeth to bite open the fuse of the grenade before lighting it. Another snippet, I never associated grenades with Grenadiers. The Musketeers needed front teeth to pull the wooden caps off the powder cartridges before pouring the charge into their muskets. (don't read literature, I thought Musketeers had swords) When the times and weapons changed, muskets to rifles, front teeth dropped off the priority list at the same time as sugar consumption went up and dental health, such as it was, went down.

It came to the crunch (ooer, sorry) during the Boer War when soldiers' teeth had to face ration biscuits and tough beef. The British Army lost 8000 men in battle but more than 2000 were evacuated and 5000 were found unfit for fighting because of dental problems. Soldiers with bad teeth or none couldn't eat, starving soldiers can't fight or have enough stamina to recover from typhoid fever or dysentery.

Frederick Newland Pedley was a specialist in repairing jaws and a founder of the Dental School at Guy's Hospital. When he heard about the head injuries and shattered jaws suffered by the soldiers in South Africa, he offered his services. Always the bastion of wisdom, the War Office wouldn't pay him but let him go on the condition that he supplied all his own equipment and made his own transport arrangements.

His first surgery was a tent and he was overwhelmed by soldiers with dental problems. It was so bad that a Cheshire Regiment had to order mincing machines when it was found that hardly a man had a molar left to eat their meat ration. After 6 months, Pedley returned to England and started campaigning for an Army Dental Corps. The Army's reply was to send four dentists.

At the start of the First World War, no dentists went to France with the B.E.F. Pedley, once again, went on his own and reported that the troops' teeth were worse than ever. It took a tooth ache in the Commander-in-Chief's mouth to get things moving. Douglas Haig's staff was forced to send to Paris for a dentist. So the Army hired a dozen dentists and in 1918 it had 831 but it wasn't until 1921 that it created the Dental Corps.

http://www.bda.org/museum is an interesting site for the history of dentistry.

RELATIONSHIPS REGISTER

Back on April 27th I blogged about this gay couple and their little boy, Ethan. Jeff Chiang and Rodney Cruise are signing the Relationships Register of the City of Yarra and baby Ethan still looks beautiful with them.

MEME NUMBER 87

Thank you Sam, the Evil Queerpenguin of Doom, the lobber of memes on unsuspecting meme addicts.
I have to give up eight random things about me so I'd best start at the beginning.

1. Most kids have imaginery friends. I had an imaginery 2 storey Italianate mansion in Toorak, a racing horse stud farm and two imaginery twin brothers. Always the overachiever.

2. The only car I remember from childhood is a police car. My Dad used to sit me on the gate post as a lookout while he ran the SP business in the lounge room. He got caught once and decided to tell the truth, the Judge said he was an unmitigated liar. Lawyers!!!

3. Contrary to popular opinion, a man's eyes are the first thing I look at although I've been known to 'fly' south after that.

4. I don't have a belly button. If I get pissed I can't tell if I'm coming or going but I have a birthmark so I know which way is up.

5. I have a phobia about naked men. Ha Ha, you all cry as you count up the numerous pics of nekkid blokes I've posted over the years. It's therapy, honest. I've got them all over the fridge door so I have to face my fear to get to the food. It's therapy, true dinks. This phobia makes me laugh hysterically at naked men, you're all so funny looking in skin suits. This gets me in no end of strife, men are so touchy about laughter aren't they?

6. I hate listening to music with anyone else in the room. The music is mine. I don't want to share the moment. I don't want to hear anyone else breathing through it. I want to destroy Bo Derek for ruining 'Bolero'. I've been trying to memorise Ravel's adagio from his Piano Concerto in G major for a whole year and it still eludes me.

7. I have a very placid exterior which hides a Krakatoa sized temper. I could never fire a gun but I can use words to poison, maim and kill but I try not to. Krakatoa blew itself apart, remember.

8. In reference to 7, never tell me that AIDS came from god to punish gays. Never tell me that same sex marriage is sinful. Never tell me that gays can't love, it's all about sex. Never tell me that gays and lesbians can never be good parents or don't deserve to have children. Never tell me your particular religion told you so.

There are a whole lot of rules and stuff that goes with this meme but the penguin didn't post them so I'm not. I'm supposed to name 8 bloggers, way to get beaten up at the next grogblog. But if your shrink is costing too much or soaking up the sun in Bermuda, feel free to unburden yourself to blogger, we will keep your secrets. Well, we'll keep your name secret but blog about everything you say.

I DONATE MY FAT TO.......

Thanks to TigTog at 'Hoyden about Town' blogspot for all the good links and especially this one
http://www.shakesville.com/2007/05/the_politics_versus_the_scienc.php (yes yes yes, one of these days I'll remember how to hide the damn address). I've been saying these same things for years and it appears I'm not alone.

I agreed with a lot of the commenters especially the ones who were told they were fat in their teens but on looking at those photos now have decided that they weren't fat at all. I did that myself and I was amply covered but not fat. Actually I was straight up and down but out in front. I have never had a waist and I want sainthood for the person who invented the 'princess line'.

I still think Australians have a more balanced diet than Americans and our portion sizes are better. This is on hearsay from friends who've been to America and couldn't believe what was put on their plates. I suppose you're as sick of hearing about my blubber as I am in trying to lose it but it's back on the diet horse tomorrow and try, try, again.

I've finally managed an email link but any diet tips will be totally ignored.

HAPPY ME DAY

In my alternative Universe where I am the Goddess of Agelessness, Beauty and Intelligence, this sweet thing has been bringing me breakfast in bed for the past week but tomorrow he'll bring me cake. I'm not fickle, I won't replace him for at least another week.

I FORGOT ONE

This is the floor of the Parliament House Vestibule which leads to the Queen's Hall. The work and the colours are stunning. You can buy a jigsaw puzzle of this at the gift shop.

Seeing this fabulous building has made me aware of how little I've seen in Melbourne in the last twenty years. The so-called 'Head of the House' was never interested in taking the boys anywhere like this. If he went anywhere it was for himself, the centre of the Universe. I sound a bit bitter and I am. Too many wasted years that I'll never get back. Sentimentality is over-rated, I should have walked away looking forward like he did.

This mood too will pass. I've been going through my Mother's things again because I refuse to do it later. All her things are mentally packed and labelled and it will take me 24 hours to clear the house. I'm doing the memories and crying stuff now because later on I'll be moving fast, the bonded servant will crunch the shackles and you won't see me for dust.

FIVE DAYS DOWN

Monday: all day Mummy day, packing, unpacking, stressing and pain in head.

Tuesday: meltdown which needed painkillers for killer pain in neck, shoulders and spine due to stress and several phone calls from Mummy. I should have put my phone number at the bottom of the call list which I would do if there was going to be another respite care which there is not as she is never again leaving her home except feet first. (her words)

Wednesday: Up, up and away to Mummy's house to let the council housekeeper in otherwise the council gets shitty and thinks we don't need help. She madly cleans without the usual instructions from the bedroom and I, once more unto the breach, throw out junk from the sewing room. This is the third time I've done this but before I always thought she would go back to some sort of craft work but she finds it impossible to thread any but the largest needle and then finds she can't move her left hand to do any embroidery. All the laces are put away in dust free bags and stacked on the shelves where she can look at them and that's it for now.

Thursday: Today is good. I get to meet Brownie and Lord Sedgwick at Parliament House for lunch in the dining room. Somebody should have taken a photo of my face as I realized that I would have to climb all those damn stairs from Spring Street which was a hell of a lot easier than climbing down later. Security was lax, they let us through. Lunch was nice and we kept Parliamentary hours, three hours before we decided we'd had enough. The wine chosen by His Lordship was an excellent red and thankfully it was the waitress who slopped it on the snowy whiteness of the starched tablecloth. I was wearing a red dress which disguised the raspberry coulis which I slopped down me. I can't believe I missed my mouth and the coulis was delicious.

This is where we lingered longer. The Queen's Hall where the portraits of the Premiers are displayed. I love this Hall, it's big and I look small in it. Ballarat gold glitters on the ceiling and I wanted to take home the light fixture.

We also had a snoop in the library. I wanted this light as well, in fact I wanted the whole room carted off to my place and tacked on the back. The Brownie and Lord Sedgwick checked out the books while I gave a thumbs up to the Ladies Powder Room.

I've lived in Melbourne all my life and have never been inside Parliament House and probably won't again. The view from the top of the steps, looking down Bourke St. was fantastic until I started to move. The knees protested, I sidestepped to the handrail and clung on for dear life.

Thank you to the guys sitting at the bottom who would have broken my fall. It took me another two hours to get home because I had to stop and shop for the cat.

Friday: Shopping because I didn't do it yesterday. The ingrate that I fed expensive food to last night had regurgitated it the entire length of the hall. No wonder he wasn't snivelling for breakfast at 7 o'clock. There will be no weigh-in tomorrow. I couldn't walk that far to be shown the bad news on a large digital scale.

My shoulders are loosening up at last. The tension is decreasing. I've become aware of just how much of my life is taken up with my Mother. Today should have been about wandering around for me but I kept thinking, "did she need this or need that?" until I mentally slapped myself and spent the grocery money on beads and baubles. So all is well, no I've found a leaking filling in my back tooth so it's a visit to the dentist but not until after next week of freedom.

IN LOCKDOWN

I left home again before nine and got home near to two. It has taken a bottle of coca-cola, a large rocky road block, 1 oazapam, 2 painkillers and an ice pack to unlock the muscle spasms, stiff neck and rigid upper body. My mother is safely in respite care for two lovely weeks. For the past week I have been labelling clothes, marking hostel forms, collecting medication, organizing doctor's visit and trying to keep her on a even keel.

It took twenty minutes to get her into the front of the car and pack everything bar the kitchen sink in the back. I had lists on the back of the front door, the bathroom door, the phone and the back of my hand. The stress came from trying to keep everything low key so she wouldn't have a panic attack at the thought of leaving home even though I made sure the coming home date was on every calendar in the house.

I am not angry about having to do this. I don't have the right word to put in place of angry but I shouldn't have had to cajole then threaten to leave her until she went to respite to give all of us, (all of us is a joke, we are three) a break. Okay so she's not rational enough to really make this decision but then she was rational enough to refuse to go whenever it was suggested.

Children should not expect a parent to support them beyond a certain age and Parents should not expect children to be their support beyond their capabilities. I have read many times that single women without children have been asked "Who will look after you when you're old?" If you have children for that reason, you're not thinking far enough ahead. You don't have children to be slaves to age. You give them life, education, the skill to succeed in whatever they choose and you watch them grow into (hopefully) great human beings. You do not give them a balance sheet with what you did for them from the day they were born and on the other side, what you expect them to do for you in return.

We three, have looked after Mum because we wanted to but it has given us a dread of having to ask for help of any kind from anybody. That's not to say we won't turn round and help somebody who needs it, we've just made a pact that we won't ask for help for ourselves. Hopefully I'll make 100 and be independant but if I feel I'm not going to make it, then it's into a hostel with a nursing home attached and the decision made rationally by me.

DOOM HOUSE

Count Crapula and the Bimbo bride of bleachness have bought a house.

Why he didn't think I'd immediately google earth the address then look for the Estate agent?

I did just that because I wanted to see if his taste had improved in anything. Nup.

It has hectares of white square tiles. This is hilarious.

The man turned dragging dirt into this house into an art form and I have cork tiles, earth coloured.

There are white tiles in the bathroom and a huge mirror. Good luck La Bimbo with getting the shaving cream off that.

Shabby chic as the witch's haven is, it's still a home not a McMansion.

SECRET MEN'S BUSINESS

I have New Scientist delivered every week by email and this bold headline caught my eye

"Erectile dysfunction probed with engineering tool"

*sniggers*

The article was very informative.

It took an aerospace researcher to apply the principles of structural engineering to find the scoop on droop.

After I read it I was very sympathetic.

Bwahahahhahahaha.


It's too good not to read http://www.newscientist.com/channel/sex/dn11770?DCMP=NLC-nletter&nsref=dn11770

FAT WOMEN CAN'T JUMP

I'm not kidding, I can't jump. I've been putting more photographs in the one cupboard over at Mum's trying to keep them all together and at the same time getting her to give me dates for the early ones. I came across my sister's ribbons for high jumping and I remembered how brilliant she was at sport.

Sport was not my forte. Telling lies to get out of doing sport was my real talent. I was made to play hockey and it didn't take me long to work out if I played way on the boundary, all I had to do was run (not very fast) and look as though I was in the game. No way was I going anywhere near hard and fast balls being shot at me with hard wooden sticks.

I played cricket but since it was a "Gel's school", we bowled underarm. I couldn't do that after playing street cricket for years and developing a fast overarm. I couldn't bat, I never saw a ball coming at me until teachers and parents discovered I couldn't see anything and I got glasses. After that I could see every ball and I wasn't standing there waiting for another hard fast ball to wipe me out.

Basket ball involved running and getting elbowed by grotty little sheilas out for revenge. A basket ball, while not all that fast, is damned hard when it hits the back of the head. Athletic afternoons were a nightmare. PE was torture on a Gitmo scale and not helped by having Olympic champions teaching us.

So to the jumping. PE was about vaulting on to a springboard to land on a vaulting horse to forward roll into jumping off. I couldn't jump high enough to make the springboard spring. I couldn't jump onto the vaulting horse and I couldn't jump off it. The one time I did manage it, the teacher pushed me into a forward roll before I was ready and I fell off the horse. The bitch almost broke my neck and that finished me forever. That woman also left me on the ground when I fell from the uneven bars and landed flat on my back on a hard floor. It was the first and last time I was winded and I thought I was dying. I wonder how many school girls can trace their spinal disintegration from sports days and dragging home a tonne weight of books before back packs.

Back to the subject of my not jumping. Athletics, running for the unco-ordinated involves falling over, running and jumping over hurdles involves terror and pain. Even when the teacher up-ended the hurdles so they were only a foot off the ground, I still remained earthbound. Why she just didn't give up then and leave me to count the bruises I can only put down to her being a sadistic skinny bitch who hated slightly fat school girls. She made me attempt the high jump. If I could have left the ground to the jumping height, I would have stayed in the air because the landing was on a thin mat not those lovely big air bag things they have now but a very thin mat. Not that it mattered, the Intelligent Designer had left out the springs in my feet. I couldn't even jump or dive into the pool for swimming but I put that down to my past life experience of trying to get off the Titanic.

I developed some good strategies in the war against sport. The first one was not to put my name down for any of the school houses. I turned up for the one I was assigned to but it took them a whole year to work out that my name didn't appear, nor did I on the annual sports day.
I used my over active imagination to invent a range of excuses so famous that I was named in the school year book. When I was forced to take up a sport, I chose the Javelin. It was a match made in Heaven. I didn't have to run fast. I didn't have to interact with team mates. I threw so erratically everyone else didn't want to interact with me.

My sister, on the other hand, was a natural. She practically sailed through the air on invisible wings. She could jump her own height from a standing start. She could run like the wind and jump hurdles as though they were twigs. She won ribbons. She threw herself around the gymnastic equipment without fear. Later in life, one of her party tricks when horrible pissed was to do back flips without throwing up. She had conquered gravity, I had concrete feet. I still hate sport and I still can't jump.

HOW CAN I DIET?

I mean to say, honestly, the thin world is against me. I get out of bed with resolve in place to keep the cravings at bay and Taste.com lands this in my Inbox.

Amaretto cheesecake with chocolate melts and thankful for small mercies, no dollop of King Island Cream beside it, it's inside it but what's another truckload of calories so let's go with the King Island whacked over the top with the chocolate.

I love Amaretto, in cakes, in ice-cream and in my coffee. I loved the little reminder in the 'Notes and tips' - Amaretto is from bottle shops. Another tip, Amaretto is from friends who are going overseas and can get to a duty free shop. It took me a year to down the last huge bottle from travelling persons.

I can't give up Taste.com, they have terrific diet recipes and tips. I zip through those on my way to the good stuff.

I NEED REMINDING

This is the dress I made from the valance on my bed. It didn't look too shabby and I was very inventive by using the ruffle for the bottom. Even though it's gathered on to a yoke, it still almost completely covers the bedroom door. Reason No. one for reducing the body mass index. That reminds me, why is it that every woman I read about that's lost a huge amount of flab wants to rush out and fit into a pair of jeans? I lose enough and I want Chanel.

Which brings me to my lovely striped black chiffon, slightly less coverage of the bedroom door but tight across the broad beam of a broom vrooming witch.

It has a floating lace panel down the front which I've hand beaded. I even fluted the sleeves with nylon thread for the first and last time, it being a tedious rotten job which causes bad language.

The will power isn't going so well. My fault because I'm blogging from the Greek Islands where I am having a wonderful time on the stolen proceeds of my mother's pension account.

Is it an offence to araldyte a person's false teeth together?

VERY TINY STEPS

133.1 last week and a not so whopping 132.8 this week.

Good news, I haven't put any back.

Bad news, at 3 grams loss a week, I'm going to have to live a long time to get thin.

Bad, bad news, if you're going to look at the pretty clouds, don't walk at the same time because you won't be upright for long.

CREEPS

I almost put a boot through the TV tonight but I wasn't wearing anything but slippers so I made do with lots and lots of four letter words. Stateline is always good and tonight it showed up the stupidity of laws regarding surrogacy and what goes on a birth certificate. It involved not only a heterosexual married couple but two men in a partnership with a baby and how it affected them. I might say they looked great with little Ethan too.

The thing that got right up my nose was the goodly compassionate christian (deliberate small 'c' there) who doesn't want gays or lesbians to be able to adopt or use surrogacy to have children. He thinks children should only have a mother and a father otherwise they'll get confused. (?) By this time the language on my end was getting more than a little salty but here comes the clincher. This nerk when asked about babies like Ethan thought that ideally he shouldn't have been born. Aaaarghh! That beautiful little child with his two fathers, shouldn't have been born!!

I had no words left to throw at him after that but I badly wanted a large boot.

So we come to Senator Steve. Another compassionate christian lad is our Senator Fielding. I started to write to him in 2005 because he refused to reply to Kelly and Samantha Pilgrim-Bryne, them being lesbians so not worthy of his attention. Well the compassionate one refused to answer any of my letters on marriage equality and me being straight and a voter. But he sends me emails which thrills me no end.

In the latest, he is worried that families are missing out on public holidays, that the alcohol toll is rising, that grocery prices are sky-rocketing and those extreme Greens are soft on drugs. But what made my heart go pitty-pat was the fact that he now has a VIDEOBLOG. I get to watch him here http://www.stevefielding.com.au/html/videonews.html.

Well I would get to watch him but I have to go and buy some boots first or maybe I'll just email and tell him Kel and Sam are pregnant. They'll be a family, it'll make him all warm and fuzzy.

Update: the transcript for Stateline is http://www.abc.net.au/stateline/vic/content/2006/s1908524.htm

SERVING WENCH

I try not to eat at the same place at Westfield on shopping day, really I try not to eat the same cake on shopping day. This place I may not go back to unless I need the comfy cushions on the seat. The coffee was so-so (long black, no sugar) and the cheesecake with raspberries not a patch on the last one which had berries in the cheesecake as well as on top. The little serving wench who wouldn't have been out of place in a 17th century tavern, served me the cake on a plate with the fork sticking straight up in the middle of it. It looked as if it had run up the white flag and surrendered to the fat lady. It's not the first time it's happened at this cafe and if they can't put the fork beside the cake why don't they get bigger plates so clumsies like me don't shoot it across the table.

A little old lady (I tell you I'm a magnet for them) wanted to know where I'd bought my dress. "Very pretty", she said and wasn't I clever to make it myself. So she patted me on the shoulder and wandered off while I, in this age of suspicion, checked my bag for my purse. Fagin would be lucky to find, let alone pinch, anything from the bottom of my bag. I could lose a small country in there.

So I come home and check the mile long receipt from the robber barons to find the cat food equals two thirds of the bill, the other third is mine. Okay so I would have trouble living on Whiskas but he's getting it disguised with the expensive stuff. I remembered the wild bird seed which should please the mob at the back door. I am over-run with freeloaders.

I did not buy any chocolate, any biscuits, any coca-cola, anything that would make me happy but fat. I am so good.

1944

This is my mother in 1944. She'd just turned 14 and was working at Caulfield Hospital as a wardsmaid until she was old enough to start training as a nurse. She also worked at Heidelburg and watched 'Weary' Dunlop operate. She said his eyes were the kindest eyes she had ever seen. A year after this she met my father who was slowly dying from tuberculosis. A lot of the men she looked after didn't survive TB, especially the ones from the POW camps. She can still look at the photographs and tell you the names of the patients. Sometimes my father is the only one in the photo who survived. He made it because of her. They married in 1948 and he died in 1994.

AT LONG LAST

Media release: Rights Lobby applauds State Government's commitment to registering relationships

The Victorian Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby (VGLRL) has commended the State Government on its proposal to introduce a relationships register to Victoria. The initiative will allow couples, irrespective of gender, to register their relationships and have formal recognition at law.

"This is a significant moment for all Victorian couples who are mutually committed to sharing their lives together," said Lobby male co-convenor Gerard Brody. "We congratulate the State Government on this proposal". "The relationship register will build on the important legislative reform undertaken by the State Government in 2001, with the passing of the 'Relationships Acts'," said Mr Brody. "That law reform provided same-sex couples the same theoretical rights as mixed sex (de facto) couples under Victorian law. This new initiative will enable couples to have certification of their relationship and improve their access to justice in practice".

About time this was done but wait until the Rodent gets in on the act.

PHOTOS OF CHRISTMAS

I lead such an exciting life that it's taken since December to fill a 24 film but I've picked them up just in time to avoid blogger's block. That's my sister's 2005 Christmas present that she received for Christmas 2006. The deep cerise is the colour of her bedroom but it goes well with the old brass bed and antique furniture. I used Neptune satin, right side for the cushion, wrong side for the ruffle. Don't ever use it without fraystop, it's a swine to work with and shreds itself the minute it's touched. The roses are hand stitched satin ribbon with purple glass and anodised cerise beads. I'm working on the matching one at the moment but the arrangement of the flowers is different although the colours are the same. She didn't put it in the bedroom as it went so well on the blue leather.

The 2006 present I managed to finish in time. After choking on the price of woven willow wreaths, I found this at Lincraft. It was just a plain steel circle with wired beads so I bound it in gold ribbon. The wreath part was made of tied ribbon bows in dusty mauve chiffon, gold mesh and gold/silver paper. I had the transparent purple baubles but managed to grab the last box of metallic purple balls and I mean "grab" as in shove someone aside and trample over the top. The colour was too perfect to let them go to a bad home.

DIET SUFFERS SEVERE INJURY

You lovely people know how well I handle stress and by the choc wrappers surrounding the computer, I'm handling it less well than usual.

Mum is going to respite care for two weeks. As the soothing girl said at the centre, the respite is for carers and to enjoy. I will, if I live to the 7th of May.

I left home at 10 this morning and got home at 5.30. Papers to the doctor's at Hampton, bills to pay at Westfield, the homestead to get Mum to sign the admission form, walk home to post the form and more papers for medication to the Pharmacy. Thank you dear neighbour who saw me staggering towards home and stopped at the corner.

It has been stress to the max with herself, agressive "You're not blackmailing me out of my home!" to sweetness and light "I might just go for a day or two for a trial." That's not what she told Aunt Patty and Aunt Selma. Jesus hates crumpets, fancy trying to talk sense to those two beetches. Aunt Selma hasn't seen her twin for l6 months and Aunt Patty's family would shove her in a nursing home if they were sure she'd be poisoned. Mum told Aunt Patty that she cried all Sunday night because we were doing this which was very clairvoyant of her since the drama started Monday* and the decision was made on Tuesday.

So it's signed, sealed and posted. My sister has already won a third of the money needed, on the horses and if the useless nag today hadn't got its head stuck in the starting gate probably would have had the lot. I get to label every single item that goes to the hostel. Would someone please tell me how to label teeth?

She's starting to be a bit happier now that I have marked in big letters the day she comes home. The other thing is that a neighbour of 50 years has recently moved into the hostel on a permanent basis and loves it so they're looking forward to chats about old times. The hostel is set in a beautiful garden and only 20 minutes from here. She'll have a phone in the room and if there's no TV, we'll take hers so she can sleep through the programmes just like home.

I would say Yippee, party time, break out the booze but I'm too bloody tired.

*Monday, can't read her book, that's because she's opened a DVD cover and is trying to read the DVD. Has put the washing on but I've already done it, I turn off the dryer that is going with nothing in it. Is putting the dishes in the dishwasher and telling nephew he shouldn't be in the kitchen so late in the morning, it is 6pm at night and he is cooking her tea. I know we all do stupid things like this but not on the same day.

THIS WEEK'S SERIOUS STUFF

It really is a serious question in what has been an extremely seriously seriously crapola week for me.

If you can answer this you get a prize and if you believe that, I also have a bridge I want to sell you and $4 million hidden in a gold mine in Africa.

Why does one have to have one last pee before all systems close down for beddie-byes?

It doesn't matter if I've been 12 times already and done it in the evening shower, the bladder always wins.

You can, and I have, ignore the subliminal message travelling along the neural networks but you'll end up dreaming you're trying to use a transparent glass toilet in the middle of a freeway at rush hour and being too gentrified to let go.

That's when you wake up and it's all hands to the pump (I wish I hadn't used that) and running not walking to the nearest lav although sometimes it's better to walk slowly, carefully keeping one's legs very close together but not as tight as a pelvic exercise.

This is another instance where women have it all over men (damn those 'Carry On' movies). We can get out of bed, walk, sit and sluice with our eyes shut. Men on the other hand can't aim and pee stone cold sober and with eyes wide open let alone half asleep thinking they're in a transparent glass toilet in the middle of a freeway at rush hour.

ANOTHER YEAR GONE

From 16 months to 16 years and the first big beautiful smile after the braces came off.

Today he would have been 36. Almost twice the age I was when I had him. I still can't imagine having a son that old. All mothers wonder what their children will become and I like what he became.

INTERNATIONAL POLAR YEAR

2007 is International Polar Year and an Australian, Dr. Michael Stoddart, is a leader of the Census of Antarctic Marine Life which is a project of the global Census of Marine Life. At the end of 2006, the research icebreaker, Polarstern, explored the underwater seabed exposed by the collapse of the Larsen A and B ice shelves, the former in 1995, the latter in 2002. The image below shows the broken connection between the Larsen B ice shelf and the Antarctic Peninsula.

When Antarctic glaciers reach the coast of the continent, they begin to float, becoming ice shelves from which flat topped icebergs calve. Since 1974, a total of 13,500 square kilometres of these shelves have disintegrated along the Antarctic Peninsula.

The Polarstern researchers, 52 scientists from 14 countries, used sophisticated sampling and observation gear including a camera-equipped remotely operated vehicle which revealed life on the uncapped sea bed. Nearly 1,000 species were collected including several which may be new to scientists. One of the aims of this expedition was not only to record indigenous marine life but discover which organisms were moving in. The ocean floor had been sealed off by the ice shelves for 5000 to 12000 years and now scientists can observe the impact of climate change on marine biodiversity and ecosystems.

One of the presumed new species is a sea anemone co-existing on the back of a snail in a symbiotic relationship, providing locomotion for one and protection for the other. It will need extensive analysis to determine if it is a new species.

The image above is of an Antarctic Ice Fish. It has no red blood pigments and no red blood cells. This means the blood is more fluid and the fish saves the energy needed to pump blood through the body. The sea bed is covered in brittle stars, two of which have been overgrown by a yellow sponge.

One major find were small clusters of dead clam shells which pointed to the presence of a rare 'cold seep', a sea floor vent which releases methane and sulphide. The opposite to the hot black smokers of the Pacific Ocean. The seep provides a temporary habitat and when it extinguishes, the community starves. The clam shells will be studied to determine their age and life span of the colony. Only one other cold seep has been discovered in the region, at a depth of 830 metres on the continental shelf.

There are 13 voyages scheduled for this International Polar Year and http://www.sciencepoles.org has been selected as the Internet reference for general polar research news and information.

LIFE IMITATES ART AGAIN

The US Army is going to use computer games to try and find recruits.

They going to spend $2.42 million to sponsor a channel at the Global Gaming League website.

A first-person shooter game based on the army training manual will be a centrepiece of the channel.

The game ranks in the top 10 most popular games of its kind and will be updated to attract potential recruits.

It's been done before by Hollywood. Remember 'The Last Starfighter'? Geeky kid, living in a trailer park plays a shootemup intergalactic electronic game and bags the big score. It turns out to be a recruiting game for an intergalactic shootemup space force and the geeky kid saves the universe.

It sounds like the sort of idea the Generals would love.

**STAR**

Well I don't really deserve a star but I'm giving myself one anyway. After flirting with the pav on Sunday and re-acquainting myself with the raspberry cheesecake on Thursday, I really wasn't expecting a good result but ****133.4kgs****. I have plenty of witnesses, the weight machine is in the dining room and 6 little old ladies hadn't finished lunch and they gave me a cheer.

It's been a stressful week, as Basil Faulty would say "Just don't mention the Mother!" and any other time I would have emptied the freezer and chocolates wouldn't have been safe in a bank vault.

Now to the chocolates. I was ferreting around in the top of the junk cupboard and found a small box which contained squares of gold foil paper. I used to make chocolates, I'd forgotten that I had a little business before I went into craft in a big way. The chocolate business went downhill when every cake decorating place suddenly had classes in chocolate making. I remember the horrible results of putting chocolate buttons in tiny plastic moulds and proud hostesses passing them around with the coffee. Suddenly every person was an expert. It was repeated over and over again with every craft craze.

After the papers, I went looking for the recipes. Why did I think I was a lazy person because I didn't have a tidy house? I never had time, kids, dogs, cats and a thoroughly incompetent moron, scrap that, he was a very good moron, incompetent husband. Along with the chocolate recipes was a list of things to do for one Christmas. There were chocolate orders to fill, 6 Christmas cakes to make and ice and 6 Christmas puddings. The puddings were easy, I always make a boiled fruit cake mix and cook it in cellophane. The cakes were much more involved because I used a recipe that contained coffee, plum jam, prunes and Tia Maria. It's a wonder the kitchen didn't spontaneously combust, all of the fruit was put in bowls with gallons of booze. TiaMaria for the cake and dry sherry for the puddings and according to my notes this had to be done by the beginning of November.

The chocolate recipes made my mouth water until I remembered how much my back would ache at the end of dipping day. I couldn't even buy cellophane bags to put them in, so I made my own in chocolate coloured cloth with tiny orange flowers, tied up with green and orange bows. Fabric doesn't rot, I found a piece in with the patchwork. Here are a few on my list......
Apricot Delights, Cherry Ripe, Caramels, Walnut fudge, Tia Maria truffles, Peppermint creams, Almond creams, Coffee truffles, Fruit and nut clusters. There's a little note on the Fruit and nut recipe, reminding me that I wouldn't get a good shine on the chocolate because of the amount of booze in the fruit.

For next Christmas, for old times sake I'm going to make one more cake. I'll even ice it. I'll give the chocs a miss though, they were hard, hard work.

SHOPPING DAY AGAIN

I bought a pair of ruby slippers on sale.

The cat's rations cost more than mine, as usual.

I got a $20 prize on a crossword scratchie.

I sweet talked the check-out chick at Safeway's into hiding the cat food I bought at Coles in with my home delivery.

I pondered why there are no cute check-out boys at Safeway's anymore.

In fact I couldn't find one single individual that was worth a second lascivious glance. Am I getting too old, need my eyesight checked or have they gone north for the winter?

I was good with my diet.

Lunch contained something from all of the food groups, carbohydrates, fat, protein, calcium and a serve of fruit. It just happened to come in the shape of raspberry cheescake, big home-made, full of real raspberries. I didn't put sugar in my long black. Now this was a real test of character and I failed miserably but but but but the shop hasn't had raspberry cheesecake since this time last year and it probably won't until next. Yes, that's a very good reason, I excuse myself from punishment.

I'M IN A BAD SAD MOOD

I need him to worship at my feet and bring me one dozen

gorgeous (match to him) pink iced (go well on him too) Hummingbird cupcakes and

a dozen Sticky Date cupcakes. ( he can stick to me anytime, anywhere)

Cupcakes courtesy of SuYin, Cookingismypassion.blogspot

The other cupcake courtesy of genetic serendipity.

SO DO YOU REMEMBER.....

Just where you were when you first saw the 'Grim Reaper' ads warning us of the danger of AIDS.

It's the 20th anniversary of that ad and now the experts want a new campaign. You can read it here http://www.ssonet.com.au/display.asp?ArticleID=6392 (nice work Harley) I think if they've got $10 million for this, it should be put towards sex education in schools. That ad certainly put AIDS in the minds of every person who saw it but quite a number of gay men think that instead of demonising the virus, it demonised them and they had to live with even greater prejudice. According to Paul Kidd, editor of 'Positive Living' people became aware there was a disease they could get from gay men and that created a division between the gay and straight worlds. On the other hand that fear generated a great deal of money for research into the virus.
Australia handled the epidemic a lot better than America ever did, with less hysteria and lower infection rates.

The ad which screened at the same time as the reaper was, to me, more effective in showing how easily the virus could spread. I don't remember the exact wording but it had two people in bed and the voice over asked 'Do you know who you slept with last night?' The camera then panned over a number of beds with couples. Would either of them work today? For a start, teens are not in front of a TV screen, they're in front of a computer downloading their favourite shows without ads. With the reaper ad, would this frighten anyone who watches the news at night with its war deaths, tsunami deaths, motor fatalities let alone watching films like 'Saw' or 'Wolf Creek'.

Twenty years ago 'teen' age was around 16, these days it's down as low as 13. There are more drugs, binge drinking, underage sex and sexually transmitted infections than ever before. Information and education about STIs haven't kept up with information about drugs and drink. There are no stats I can give you, just word of mouth from teens. I have no patience with adults who say if there's sex education and information taught in schools, then their kids will want to run out and try it. Halfwits, they're already doing it. As well as condom vending machines in toilets of both genders, put a rack of STI information beside it and load it with graphic photographs. The problem is, we have more religious nutjobs than we had twenty years ago and with a lot more influence than they should have.

When people stopped dying from the complications of AIDS and drug regimes became the norm, HIV went from being a gay disease to a druggie's disease to a sex worker's disease and now it's a third world disease. It's still a death sentence in Africa and S.E. Asia but here it's thought of as an inconvenience that can be controlled with a pill. It's not a death sentence but it's a life sentence and that's the message that has to be pushed at young people, gay or straight.

THE MOON

I'm sitting here at 10.35 watching the moon rise over the rooftop. I can't remember if it's waxing or waning gibbous because I haven't got one of those neat little moon phase thingys and even if I did blogger would somehow shove it to the bottom of the page.

So I've written about the moon rising before but it was earlier in the evening and it looked bigger and it was in the left corner of my window. Now it's later and it's in the right corner of my window. I wonder why it's like that, I say to myself.

Because the Earth's turning you cloth-brained bint.

BAKING

I am baking or perhaps baking isn't the right word for a pavlova. I may have a visitor tomorrow so I thought I'd treat us to a pav, cream but not the usual fruit, crushed peppermint crisp and Cadbury's dark velvet flakes.

The diet is not dead. The grand weigh-in today was a bit disappointing - 134.4kg but as my sister pointed out that is over a pound in the old fat.

This is where I get confused. I keep thinking I have to lose a kilo a week because I'm still thinking in pounds where a good loss was a pound a week. I had to rat around in the bottom of the cake pan cupboard to find my scales and work out pound to kilo ratio and the news is good not disappointing. Now to work out the other stuff, 14 pounds in a stone and I've lost about 9 so that makes 5 to go before I really celebrate. I stopped trying to work out how many stones there are in 100kgs, it was making my brain hurt. I can visualise in pounds but not kilos and it's the same with centimetres. Say 2 inches and I've got it but in centimetres, I have to get the tape measure. You can't teach an old dog new tricks.

I was busy measuring the ingredients with my teaspoons/tablespoon and I got all old feeling because I had been given these as a wedding present. I can't believe something plastic lasted longer than he did. A look in that drawer where all kitchen usefuls live (oops, quick dash to the oven and pav is cooked and looking yum, a little sugar weepy but cover it with cream) brought to light all manner of odments that have outlasted him. What did the man want with 7 bottle openers apart from getting terminally pissed? I recognised a few as Christmas presents, how well the family knew him. They got shoved to the back when stubbies were invented and the family gave him stubby holders instead. Some terrible person burnt them in the barbecue just after he left.

In case there's interest, I'm also having salmon, sour cream and feta cheese tarts tomorrow possibly with a golden soy mayonnaise with herbs. I can't leave egg yolks hanging around doing nothing. Bless those happy chooks on Kangaroo Island.

UNEXPECTED SURPRISE

I have a portable DVD player courtesy of my sister's big feet. She has a TV at the foot of the bed and watches it when insomnia takes over. She bought the portable DVD for herself and it is now mine. She managed to fall out of bed, get her foot caught in the power cord of the TV and sent the whole thing flying. It wasn't much fun watching everyone looking like the green part of the Hulk so she went to the scratch and dent warehouse and now has a TV with an inbuilt DVD player. But be warned about these, the warehouse is full of televisions with DVD players that don't play, very cheap but hardly a bargain really.

After a year of buying my favourite movies, I can watch them. I can't watch them in bed, I can't get comfortable but set up on a TV table in front of my chair it's passable. Any film that has a lot of action tends to make the eyes shoot around and Harry Potter is just not the same on a 5 by 7 inch screen.

It's better than the tripe that's playing on the box this week. Fascinated as I am with all things forensic, the sixth repeat of any CSI program tends to be boring. Why was it necessary to remove 'Stargate Atlantis' this week and does 'Crossing Jordan' have to be moved around to accommodate 'Dancing with the Stars'? Well I don't care now I can turn it all off and watch 'Serentity'.

TALKING ABOUT MY KITCHEN.....

Well we weren't but I will. After one step up a ladder today, that's one step, the first step, any higher and I get altitude sickness, I realised that the body is getting old. (insert sniggering here)

In my younger days and married to an object of decoration masquerading as a husband, I was the one who painted, wallpapered, cooked but never cleaned unless the month had an 'R' in it.

I remember him moaning in bed supposedly with the flu but in reality just his Monday morning 'brown ale virus' and me in the kid's room slapping up the second coat of paint while tending to a roast in the oven. He took his life in his hands by asking for food and pointing out an area I'd missed in a corner.

Now the kitchen which I had specified to be painted in gloss before we moved in, wasn't, so with himself being the greatest splasher and splotcher of all times, it wasn't long before a paint job was necessary. In my innocence I decided that I would paint it Gloss, a bright cheery pale lemon Gloss and not just the walls, I would paint the roof.

I painted the kids, the dogs, (lemon works well on black labs) and the cats. I didn't even have a ladder in those days. I stood on chairs, walked around the benchtops and utilised the kitchen table. I discovered one of life's truths, gloss paint takes forever to dry......on kids, dogs, cats and walls but especially when it's dropping off a ceiling onto the kids, dogs, cats etc. It doesn't peel off the skin like flat plastic paint, you have to scrub down several layers to basement epithelia.

But I had my lemon kitchen which made me happy until I saw "the wallpaper". It was white with lemon wild flowers and pale green leaves, delicate and fresh. I left the ceiling lemon and the walls were delicate and dainty as were the lace curtains framing the dirty dishes. Wallpaper 101, do not put anything but vinyl in a kitchen especially with a splotcher in residence.

Painters hate Gloss. They will do anything but paint Gloss. I paid the equivalent of the GNP of a small country to get one to paint Gloss in the kitchen. I scraped off the wild flowers while the decoration sat on his decorative backside. But I had my white gloss kitchen with the white gloss ceiling. He flicked spaghetti bol across the ceiling a week later. It washed straight off. I love Gloss.

PROBLEMS

I have a few of them, problems that is.

Anybody know why blogger has decided to plonk my witchy gravatar and profile to the very bottom of the blog?

Why aren't ladders made with wider steps?

Why do stupid women go up ladders instead of washing the wall with a broom while standing on solid ground?

Why is it murphy's law that if I bang my shin on the blanket box, I'll do it again in the same spot at least three more times?

Why does it take this government no time at all to send the rodent around the world but takes days to get aid to tsunami victims?

IT'S APRIL ALREADY

My feet hurt because I walked 6 kms just to find out I've lost some more weight.

135.1kgs

I really wanted to take off my dress to lose that .1 but I didn't want to frighten the horses.

No applause?

It's only been two weeks but there could be a slight cheer, a mild clapping of hands, a well done now get on with the big lose.

I need another incentive. I think I'll have one of those 'Starshots' done. This time they won't have to airbrush out the blubber, they can use it to fill the wrinkles.

DEAR DIARY TODAY I.........

Thought about food again and got pissed on by the Heavens again as I walked home again.

My food thinking is actually doing me good. The more recipes I read, the more I remember how hard cooking is, well not the cooking, all the chopping and washing up is tiresome and this is keeping me to the diet. (apart from yesterday's delicious little slip up)

Since it's coming on to soup season I bought a carton of Campbell's REAL STOCK, vegetable. All ingredients are listed on the side which has confused me a little. This carton contains, water, vegetable stock (?) 3% (water, carrots, celery, beetroot, parsley, lettuce, watercress, spinach), food acid (citric acid) natural flavour, sugar, soy sauce (contains soy and wheat), salt, onions, garlic, vegetable paste (contains milk products) herbs. So the way I read it, I have bought a carton of vegetable stock which contains vegetable stock as one of its ingredients. I'm glad I didn't buy a bridge.

I also grabbed the free magazine that Safeway uses to shamelessly plug all manner of packaged chemically enhanced natural food. This little gem caught my eye. It's another use for those morsels of patriotic delight, Anzac biscuits. You soften them in the microwave for 30 seconds, then while they're soft, press them into muffin tins (sounds very prOn) and hey presto, when cold you have little cases to fill with caramel and cover with chocolate. I would like some with chocolate mousse, lemon curd even or a liquer truffle mix, lovely but labour intensive. I'd have to stand up a lot to make them and then make coffee to have while eating them, then wash the cup and all the utensils etc. but if the Anzac fairy leaves any on the doorstep, they'll be appreciated. HINT.

If anyone is thinking of using the new Ajax superdooper bathroom cleaner, read the directions first. You don't want to go spraying it around then find out that it's a level 8 corrosive, to be used only with gloves and don't breathe the fumes. It's not a bathroom cleaner, it's a chemical weapon of mass destruction. I'm still hacking up bits of lung and that's after I poured it down the shower drain with cold water. I figured it would probably dissolve all that red hair that the drain trolls weave into gold in the pipes.

That finishes the shopping report for this week.

TODAY STARTED........

It didn't start well at all. The cat has not adjusted his internal clock and woke me at 6.30 by jumping on the bed. He missed. He saved himself by throwing his claws into the only anchor he could find.......my foot. Slasher managed to leave a neat surgical incision across the top of said foot. Standing on one foot trying to drip Betadine onto the other foot is not my idea of early morning fun.

I left home at 8.30, 20 minute walk to the bus unusually slow but then I was crippled by searing pain in one foot. Two buses to get to the doctor's and joy, my blood pressure is down so no pills. I almost made it back to the bus stop but I have to pass by the BohemiancakeshopwherethegenuineViennesealmondcreamcroissantslive. I couldn't help it, they banged on the window like puppies in a pet shop saying, 'bite me, bite me, bite me'. So I did, but I had a long black without sugar so it counts. Anyway I only go to the doc's every three months and it helped me negotiate the 2 million tonnes of chocolate covering Westfield for Egg Sunday.

My sister and I have a system. I top up my mobile then transfer credits to her phone and she gives me the cash. It's worked well up to now but optus have a new website but I don't find that out until half an hour later when I ring customer service because I'm still trying to transfer money in a black hole. I had all the details for the poor wage slave at the call centre except my own number which is on the phone I'm using to talk to the call centre. I don't call me so how am I supposed to know what the number is. This has taken me nearly an hour of internet time and mobile.

I finish the day as I started it, the slave of the cat. Three cans of food and a bowl of milk later he decides to sit on my foot to get warm. Wrong foot, #*&@* cat!

THE POEM

WHEN I'M AN OLD WOMAN

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick the flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickles for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So People who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

WHO IS IN CHARGE?

Right then, who's in charge of all these Ad Agencies producing the crap ads on TV at the moment?

The little kid running up the stairs to find her bedroom is a brick wall because the insurance company wouldn't cough up enough to build it. Have you looked at the size of the house? And not a stick of furniture in the joint.

That Magnum ad with good old botoxed to the hilt Hurley. Swans down the red carpet in a dress that's almost there and grabs a bloke's ice-cream and EATS IT! Who are they kidding? That woman hasn't had a decent meal let alone a chocolate covered ice-cream in the last ten years.

And since I'm totally obsessed with food at the moment and my only comfort is the numerous food blogs I visit, here's one I particularly like http://theoldfoodie.blogspot.com and I hope he won't mind me nicking his quotation for the day.

"The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for 30 years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found."
Calvin Trillin.

I can relate to that. The Brick Outhouse is always amazed when I take something out of the fridge and make a meal from it. I've converted him to putting sliced roast meat in batter or layering it with onions and gravy to simmer in the oven with or without a topping of fried breadcrumbs with cheese or mashed pototoes. It's even easier now that gravy comes in liquid form ready to microwave. He did remember a recipe I used to make when they were little and I'm surprised I wasn't arrested for child abuse for giving them sausages cooked with baked beans, pineapple, green pepper and onions.

UP HERE! UP HERE! NOT DOWN THERE

Far TMI in that last post, have to distract 'em quickly. Easter Eggs and more Easter Eggs.

Who in their right mind diets just before Egg Sunday? Normally not a problem, the chocolate in these eggs was always terrible but not now.

Safeway have a recipe for a Rocky Road egg. All the ingredients are on the page, ready to buy in your supermarket aisle. It looks gorgeous but I'm strong, skip that page.

Target, on the other hand, have an egg I'm going to have a lot of trouble with. A Jessica Walker totally indulgent nut egg. Caramelised macadamia nuts coated in milk chocolate and formed into a 600 gram egg, with a ribbon. It's on special, $24.99, I save $5.00 but even at $24.99 I'd want Ioan Gruffudd naked, with a ribbon, to deliver it.

I could go for the Rocky Road egg with 9 Rocky Road clusters or the Ernst Hillier Liqueur Creme and I definitely have to buy a Fair Trade Egg to be fair.

Or I could just eat the page.

WHEN IS IT FINISHED

Adrian Phoon who used to blog as Gay Erasmus has been having counselling and his post is very well written with good links to organisations dealing with depression. http://adrianphoon.wordpress.com/2007/03/20/counselling

But it was one of his commenters that had me going back over my dealings with various counsellors over the years. How do you know when it's finished? What is the cut-off point to go it alone? With me, it was more a case of when do I start trusting these people to help me instead of fighting them. It was only when I saw a female psychiatrist who asked if I had problems with men in authority positions that cathedral bells went ding dong boom. My other two shrinks and hypnotherapist, males, authority figures which meant the drawbridge went up and the moat filled with piranhas.

She was good. I always left the session with a question she put in my mind and by the next week, I usually had an answer and another step on the road. The question was important because it showed that she was not only hearing what I was saying in words but also listening to the gaps in between.

It took a little over a year before I uttered the one sentence that had been locked away in a dungeon in my mind. I thought I'd be struck by lightning for that but instead I burst into such hysterical sobbing that I ended up in hospital for the night. It wasn't the great 'I'm cured' breakthrough but it was the start of me being able to do the hard work for myself.

The New Age gurus say every phase of our life has to be completed in order to move to the next challenge and survive it. I survived everything that has been thrown at me over the last 12 years. My father's cancer and death, my son's month in intensive care and watching him die, my granddaughters being taken far away, my husband's infidelities and our eventual divorce and now my mother's slow decline. I'm down from 40mcg of medication a day to 3. The battle with my other drug, food, is now being fought.

I don't mind growing old. For every year I live my mind expands more not less. Youth is wasted on the young, hand it over kids, I won't waste a minute.

THE 400THHH

For my 400th post, an announcement and joyous I am to announce it.

TheMuriels, Kelly and Samantha have passed the first trimester of their pregnancy.
The nuchal fold ultrasound showed a perfectly healthy baby.
There is an extremely low risk of Down Syndrome.
BabyMuriel has a normal skull and abdomen and is 5.24 cm long.

Of course, this means the end of civilization as we know it.
Two lesbians in a 13 year relationship, having a child will bring down fire and brimstone on every hetero family in Australia. Johnny told me so, and Abbott and Costello too. I won't get hurt, I have a tinfoil hat.

Go Team Muriel. I'll dance at your wedding yet.

WHAT I DO TO KEEP FIT MEME

1. Laugh hysterically at anything that has the word "fit" in it.

2. Open 15 cans of cat food, a day, for notoriously fussy geriatric pain of a cat.

3. Walk to the shop for milk whenever the snivelling swine of a cat wants it.

4. Build up biceps by turning pages of cake recipes and wiping drool from chin.

5. I'm all for spectator sports. Anything that walks past me in tight jeans will get mentally stripped and in case you're wondering that strengthens the eye muscles.

6. I dance very gracefully, it's the fat that wobbles. (don't come looking, nekkid dancing is over, summer's gone)

7. I ride horses, ice skate and climb mountains. (try proving I don't *blows raspberry*)

8. I'd like to swim, but whaling season, you know. I'd like to surf, but shark season, you know.

9. I lift weights, these artificial knees weigh a ton and the body ain't made of marshmallows.

10. I walk kilometres, to the fridge, the computer, the coffee shop, the pub.

I tag anybody who can tell lies better than I do.

WAIIIIIIIT FOR IT!

136.6 kilograms.

My scales are nearly a kilo out so I was 138 kgs when I started last Monday so that is a good result.

3kms to the hospital and 3 back in the pouring rain. I walked in the back door straight into a hot shower, clothes and all, to try and shave off frostbite.

On Thursday, I staggered home trying not to succumb to heatstroke.

Thanks to all who are supporting me, especially Cellobello who, in a noble gesture of sacrifice, ate only a small packet of chocolate chip tiny teddy biscuits. *sobs* I love tiny teddy biscuits.

Don't mention exercise, I can do enough damage walking. I've been catching buses, good, cracked my spine on a bus seat, not good.

Last night I had to figure out how to attach the two sticky paddles of my TENS unit to a spot between my shoulder blades. That's really hard with one dodgy arm but I'm a woman and female brains are wired for just this sort of problem. I measured my back, measured the chair and pinned the paddles to the exact spot, sat down and leaned back, brilliant.

Now to get through Sunday without cappuccino, croissants and chocolates. I can do it, I can do it, stop thinking tiny teddies, don't think tiny teddies, crush the tiny teddies. *sobs*

KEEP IT PRISTINE

This is from the astronomy picture of the day website and I have it on my desktop. I can't stop looking at it, the detail is amazing.

The image was taken from the International Space Station in 2006 and shows the layers of the atmosphere and that beautiful crescent moon.

Air molecules scatter blue light making the sky clear blue for ground observers and the horizon blue for astronauts. The molecules are deflecting the moonlight making the lower part of the moon appear to fade. The black at the top of the photo shows the increasingly thin atmosphere.