AND SO IT CONTINUES

How does one cope with a three month settling?
I have to be out at sparrow's fart tomorrow to drop off the keys to people who don't realize how long it takes if you don't have a car.
Then Centrelink to pick up more papers.
Then Southland to finish the shopping I didn't do today when I was phoned and told the cat was on the way.
My sister wanted to know why I was so long.
I wasn't stupid enough to tell her I was buying a mobile phone for mum. Just a plain no frills phone, $39 and $50 credit so people can call her. I'll discuss with the girls in charge just who will keep it and give it to her when a call comes in. It's in my name and if she annoys me I'll take it away.
I have netting all over the gate and a ute in the drive way.
I have a black and white furball sound asleep in the middle of my queen bed and I don't think it's going to move.
I've had to ring AGL, SE Water and Mastercard. It seems their various departments don't share information about a house that has been sold.
I have two pages to fill out about the change of address for the cat and I have to produce copies of its microchip and sterilization certificates.
I had to produce my passport at Optusnet to prove I wasn't a terrorist. All the terrorists I've heard about have a passport.
The new fridge is here and what a pain. It opens opposite to the old one so crashes into the wall when the door opens but on the good side, after 2o years it's nice to see a light go on inside. The old one is sitting pathetically outside and I feel as though I've just shot the family dog. 39 years of faithful service and still going strong when I unplugged it. The new one is too tall but I won't see the dirt. Still haven't put the shelves in, I have to wash them first and that too much like hard labour.
Did I mention I was tired? So tired I paid my visa payment twice.
I need a holiday.

I LOVE THE WILD LIFE

I have an Orb spider. The first one for years but did it have to spin the web between the Mandarin tree and my bedroom window then do a 180 turn and spin it across my window?
I can't wait for the first AGL gas reader to hit it head on.

In the cool of tonight I washed my hair and wound a towell around it until I had put the tea on.
Ran some gel through and combed. Combed a giant silverfish out of my hair eeeww! He was nicely dead and very clean but I really hope he was hiding in the towell.

I have a big red rashy bite on my shoulder blade from something that fell out of a tree and down my dress. I can get anti-itch cream on it by pretending to be a contortionist and dislocating the other shoulder. I have no idea what it was but I did a thorough search of all clothes.

I've had a word with the Orb. I won't spray it with lethal chemicals if it eats everything else in the garden except the cat. The cat has been de-flea'd and better stay that way or I'll have another chat with the Orb.

FLEETWOOD, DON'T BE A HERO

Our beloved ditchdigging Brian is underneath all that snow. He's such a noble creature, he'd stagger out looking for food for the cats and not think of himself.

Listen lad, don't think of Scott of the Antarctic, don't be a hero, drink every bit of booze in the house and roast the cats. We'll send you replacements.

RIP OFF MERCHANTS

First off, we have a skip being delivered next week for the last of the junk.
Cost is $300.
Fair enough, it's a 4m bin.
But if we can't get it in the carport because it's lowered by a crane thingy and might hit the roof then we have to pay $65 to the council for a permit to park it on the nature strip for 24 hours.
If we don't then the bin man gets fined $200 and so do we.
I'd pay for a permit for a week but 24 hours?

Now if anybody finds a cache of redbacks would they please send them to the head office of AGL.
If anybody deserves a delivery of angry redbacks that bunch do.
I rang on the 29th of December to order a final meter reading for gas and electricity on the 15th of January. I know they told me they needed 3 working days but I decided to give them enough time to get their heads out of their backsides to do the job.

All the call centre had to do was put in the request to stop the direct debits and put a stop on all other payments (bill smoothing) until after the 15th when I received the final amount.

Too easy, I should have known.

They removed three bill smoothing amounts from an account that didn't have enough money.
Two of the amounts were rejected, insufficient funds.
They then took out 24 direct debits on the 31st of December leaving the account $681 in arrears.
I fired off an email to the bank demanding an explanation.
On Tuesday 24 direct debits were reversed.
I then had an email that said they couldn't get me any information because my name was not on the account and my PoA was only registered at the local branch.

AGL was next because yesterday I received 24 letters from them each one telling me the same thing, that they were terminating the Direct Debit service because my payments were not being processed by my financial institution.

The mature age call centre lady had enough brains to demand a supervisor immediately to clear up the mess including the amount of money they demanded for the inconveniance of dealing with me. I now have until the 14th of February to pay all accounts.

I had no problems with the insurance, in fact I had a $7.07 credit from them
I had no problems with SE water.

After all this, I'm not going anywhere Myki until Koskey the Klown hands me my ticket personally.

THERE WILL BE NO DROOLING, THEY'RE UNDER AGE

This is my beautiful 17 year old (February 2010) granddaughter

And this is my equally beautiful 15 year 0ld granddaughter.

These have been posted on Facebook so

I'm not invading any privacy

and I want to show them off.

FULL MOON SURPRISE

WITCHY DOES HAPPY DANCE.

WITCHY'S BEAUTIFUL GRANDDAUGHTER TURNED UP THIS MORNING.

WITCHY DOES MORE HAPPY DANCING.

STRANGE

I cannot describe how strange it is to be looking at photos of my father and realizing that he was the same age as my son would have been now.

It's the same with my mother. Looking at them at the old fashioned dinner dances, just hitting their thirties and then wondering what I was doing at that age.

I read somewhere, don't ask because I've forgotten, a man said he disliked the Mona Lisa because she had cruel eyes. When I put my hand over the bottom half of her face, I could see what he meant. I've done that a lot with photographs of me. The longer I was married, the eyes lost the smile that my mouth performed.

Old photographs are useful for memory. What year did the mirror go on the wall? How long ago did we get rid of that awful lounge suite? I thought those curtains were almost new and they've been up, how long?

But the boys, I can't look at the boys. My son with the golden curls, my nephew with the brown ones, always together. They were closer than brothers, closer than just friends, always planning trouble, in trouble or charming their way out of trouble.

There was one photograph that I wished had more detail, was larger so I could really see them. It was a rare holiday at the beach, cold enough for them to be rugged up and wearing beanies but there they were, arms around each other, standing in the waves which were slowly filling their gumboots and they were laughing. Freezing, soaking wet but laughing.

For all the New Agers that are waiting for the end of the world in 2012, blink and you'll miss it.
I blinked and 25 years disappeared.

DID I SAY THIS?

I'm sure I did say that once everything was over at my place, I could go through it at my leisure.
Decide what to keep, what to throw out, what to go to the op-shop.
Well, it's all here.
I didn't know whether the BrickOutHouse would bring it today just because he said he would.
He did and he picked me up at the home, a ride instead of bus, lovely.
He carried in a tv corner cabinet which I can barely move. It now has the tv on top and the dvd player on top of that as he was too tired to fiddle with the wires.
After looking at the rest of the stuff, I was too tired too.
After the Salvo's have been and I expect them to reject the lounge suite, the leather is too bad to fix on the chairs, then my sister gets her heart's desire and I'll hire a skip for the rubbish.
Why does everything look so much bigger in my house than it did at mother's?
Still I have a nice new half rug to go under my chair but that comes under the heading of hard work. Move the side table, take the chair off the bricks, remove old rug, look for cockroach that fell out of the mail last week, vacuum and put new rug down, also put everything back except cockroach.
Too tired for that today.
Mother has a very sore throat so rings me last night for a packet of butter menthols.
So I decide to catch the bus and walk through Coles.
It pours rain, still pouring at bus stop, still pouring as I decide to walk to the pharmacy for shelter and butter menthols. Oh goodie, Darryl Lea candies are half price, that's worth getting soaked for.
While I'm waiting for the bus, the sun comes out and is so hot it dries my soaking dress and scarf.
Mother still has a sore throat so it looks like she's getting a cold but she hopes not as her social life next week is very busy. They're going out for shopping and lunch, then Aunt Patty's coming down so they can bitch about Aunt Selma and then there's two days of bingo. I should have taken her a kilo bag of butter menthols instead of just a packet.
And just to finish off, please let there be a special place in Hell for whoever invented those monstrous magnetic photo albums. I've managed to get the photos out of one but the others are older and harder to shift. Still it has been fun tearing up the relos I've never liked not to mention the ex. I gave my sister the proofs from her wedding to tear up but by the look on her face she was going home to burn his eyes out with a cigarette.

I think I'll have some alone time tomorrow. I have candies and a book.

Shut up, Robbert, I'll get to the Post Office by the end of the week before my breakdown.

BEWARE THE NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

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

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

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

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

I'M FAMOUS

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

CHRISSY ON FARCEBOOK

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

Bwhahahahahahha.

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

*sniggers*

A SLIGHT PROBLEM OF PERSONAL SPACE

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

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

TIS THE SEASON

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

HO HA HO HA

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

SPIDERS AND VIPERS

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

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

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

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

FEATHER TREES

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHO NEEDS A CHRISTMAS STAR

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

WELL IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO LIKE THIS...

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

THE PERFECT GIFT

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

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

YES, I'M CROOK, OFFICIALLY

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

RIGHT YOU LOT, SYMPATHY, IN BUKKITS OR ELSE

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

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

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

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

Never mind the sympathy, send bukkits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poo-Dolph, the bulldozed, slain deer.

One for the doggie bag or pick up poochie pouch.

ZE HOUSE SHE IS SOLD!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TIME IS GOING TOO FAST

A new show started on 10 last week and I missed it. Him up there is the star so how bad could it be. I'll catch it next week.

The last house viewing was at 6 o'clock tonight and it starts at 10.30 in the morning. At 5 o'clock I get to roll up at the Real Estate agent's office and open the bidding envelopes. The house could be sold tomorrow but settling is going to be 60 days or I'll be dead.

The target group was tradies with family who could do it up or people who would tear it down for a townhouse but the tradies are winning. One more sleep and it could all be over. I'll be down at the pub if you're looking for me. I think I'll need a drink.

IT'S 1.50 IN THE A.M.

So why aren't I asleep for crying out loud?
Last night I was so tired I fell asleep on the bed with my clothes on, woke up at 1 a.m., had a shower and went back to bed. I didn't even hear the rain belting down.

Tuesday, it was back to the solicitor's with more papers, then to Southland and home.

Wednesday, and I was re-arranging a funeral. I hadn't looked at the papers since 2006 so I thought I'd better up-date for mother (or me whoever goes first) because it's going to be paid out of the house settlement regardless of what stupid sister says. I say it's a debt and it gets paid. Well that ended up fun when the lass found out that my ex had worked for them. Much salacious gossip was exchanged and bitchiness abounded. Then I went back to unpacking boxes.
I don't know which is worse, packing up at mum's, unpacking here or re-packing for the op-shop.
I'm being ruthless and with my own things as well. Still haven't got as far as the books or videos or packed the glass cabinet in the kitchen.

Thursday, shocked to find no knickers in the drawer. Memo to self, do some washing and soon.
I had to open the emergency cottontails now I have to buy another emergency pack. I waited for an hour for a taxi, ringing twice which uses up my mobile credits and makes me homicidal especially when driver is a complete moron. He has a GPS and still can't find his way out of my street to Warrigal Road. Take papers to solicitor, get papers from solicitor. Pick up parrot seed ring for mother's bloody greedy parrots. Pick up stuff from pharmacist because stupid sister doesn't want mum ordering through the home in case she starts on a spending rampage. It's her money, you stupid tart. Stagger into nursing home just as the chef wanders past with sausages in onion gravy, waves it under my nose and asks would I like some lunch. It was divine and I faithfully promise to become vegetarian again tomorrow and eat crappy tofu. I also paid up for Sunday lunch.
Walk back through Mentone, gasping, catch bus to Southland to do the banking and say sod it to taking a bus home, deciding on taxi because my feet were starting to hurt up to my knees. I got home just in time for the thunderstorm which drenched me through to my cottontails. One of life's tortures is getting a pair of soaking wet knickers off a lardarse as large as mine. Not to mention the rain hits my hair and 'Sideshow Bob' suddenly appears. Estate agent turns up to collect papers and tells me about all the interest in the house and I'm mentally yelling "SHOW ME THE MONEY" but not before Christmas. She looks around and says that we've moved a lot from the house, I tell her this is just from the hallway.
Sister rings, she's taken down all the paintings, don't ask me why. She also wants to know exactly what times are people coming through the house so she can tell the BrickOutHouse not to be home. I would tell him but some stupid tart told me to cut off the phone. Sister is becoming a pain in the arse.

In fact there have been so many annoying people running through my life this week that it's a good thing I can't buy semi-automatics over the internet.

OKAY, REALLY TIRED NOW

Dentist and walking, feet hurt.
Two phone calls before I left so panic, panic in case I'm late so leave mobile home and spare cash.
Lovely dentist repairs filling with two pins which I think are jammed in my jaw.
The bill gives me another panic attack but she deducted the last filling amount and brings it down to below panic level.
I use mother's bank account to pay for it.
Cross the road to catch bus and pick up my glasses which they couldn't fix so have glued them so I can use them for special occasions. (I've since wrapped fine gold wire around the arm and araldyted it)
Miss bus by bee's dick but it's pleasant sitting in the sun.
Miss bus again but catch the next to Southland, cross the road and catch Berwick bus which stops closer to home but not close enough to stop feet hurting again.
Sister rings.
Half mother's house is arriving at 3.30.
Since I pushed and shoved and removed drawers to have everything ready, it is.
Pine cabinet in through the back door.
Whine, whine, whine when I ask them to move old cupboard to carport where it will be doing sterling duty as my tool shed.
They go back to pick up bookcases and CD tower.
I didn't notice sister putting boxes on top of each other, all filled with glassware.
One bookcase down the hallway.
CD tower in the study and I do have to move the picture, do that tomorrow.
Bookcase in bathroom doesn't work for the towells so I wait til they leave and drag it inch by inch into the sewing room where it fits but blocks off power point. Buy another power board for the other side of the room.
Sit down and faint at the solicitor's letter. I can't understand a word but secretary talks me through it.
Mouth starts to hurt especially where I've bitten my mouth while it was numb.
Stomach complains through lack of food and giant dose of antibiotics.
I'm trying not to look at the bags and boxes that have arrived.
The screw holding my computer chair has just fallen off and I'm too tired to upend the thing and do the two wrench trick to put it back.

Was there a good moment?
A crappy little envelope with the initials, M.J.J. on the front and 'from the pest' on the back.
The writing is little more than a millimetre in size which is how I know it's from my father in the last weeks of his life.
In part it says,

To my Beautiful wonderful trifecta
words written or spoken could never
express my feelings for what you did for me
this past year.

None of us can remember seeing this letter before or after he died.
Such a small but wonderful treasure.

RIGHT UNDER OUR NOSES

Pretty little gems, the one above could be frosted quartz. The jewells below could be frosted amethyst, or blue banded agate, maybe old amber and another frosted quartz.

No, it's all glass. Seaglass, fossicked from the shoreline where it's been thrown up by waves after being tossed, weathered, pitted by the leaching of its components by sea water. It comes in all colours with the rarest being red, made even more rare if it can be identified by the trace of a pattern.

Henry David Thoreau said, "The sea, vast and wild as it is, bears thus the waste and wrecks of human art to it's remotest shore....It lets nothing lie, not even the giant clams that cling to its bottom." So it is with seaglass, always flung back to where it came from.

These lovely pieces are by Lisa Hall and gives an idea of the colours to be found and treasured. It's almost like looking at priceless emerald, sapphire or jade. There are distinctions between the various seaglass specimens, antique seaglass develops a distinctive white residue resulting from extensive exposure to elements of the shoreline.

Seaglass comes from coastal regions everywhere especially it seems when strong storms coincide with a full moon.

New finds of old glass are becoming rare since we've taken to plastic bottles which only float and polute the beaches probably burying the seaglass underneath the dross. I hate to think how many times I've walked over a frosted piece thinking it was 'just old glass'.

I'M OUT OF PETROL

Another luscious delight from Su's blog

I'll have to keep posting photos since I won't be able to eat much until next Tuesday. The other half of the tooth I've just had filled fell out last night. I hate dentists who do this and then have to take out the whole thing anyway when I asked her to do just that. She wanted to do a root canal and for that I'd only have to mortgage the house. So appointment on Monday morning and another shot of antibiotics.

The arm of my favourites glasses snapped off so I glued it back with 5 minute araldyte which unfortunately melted in the hot sun. OPSM pissed me off so I called in to a small shop in Mentone and they've gone to no end of trouble to help. If they can't find a replacement arm, he'll use special UV resistant glue which should work. The trouble is that being genuine Christian Dior, they have a special fixture which shows they're the real deal and you just can't shove any old arm on. So raspberries to OPSM, I'll be going here from now on.

Saw the Estate Agent today. Lordy, what a business but she said not to try and fix anything or spend money, the house will sell as is, for land value. Just a couple of papers from the solicitor and the sign goes up next week. She's hopeful that it will sell before Christmas with a settling at the end of February. We only have to move some of the big furniture out to show the space. She's looking for a tradie who will fix the old place up or someone who will knock it down and build a 2 storey town house. She was very delicate about the knocking down bit but we agreed to swing the first hammer blow. Even the BrickOutHouse said he'd rather see it pulled down than see someone else living there.

So it's shopping tomorrow, mother and lunch on Sunday, dentist on Monday, solicitor on Tuesday or Wednesday and Southland for mother's banking on Thursday. Friday I get to scratch myself. People with cars don't realize how long it takes to get anywhere by walking and busing. My feet are already hurting.

FOOD MEME PART THREE

11. If your partner could take you to any restaurant, where would you go?

Anywhere with comfortable seating, preferably banquettes. Anywhere they discreetly roll out the pastry wagon (not trolley, I know what I mean). No place where I can see slabs of meat being slapped on hot coals or somewhere that has a tank of fish for the choosing. So I'd have to say, a pastry shop with good coffee and banquette seating and a set of scales in the doorway that only weighs going in.



12. Soup or salad?

I only enjoy Heinz tomato soup when I'm crook so it's salad all the way. Potato salad with fresh mint, Greek salad with kalamata olives and creamy feta cheese, Coleslaw with pineapple, Rice salad with sultanas and grated carrot and toasted almonds. I have to stop I'm chewing on my arm.



13. Buffet, take-out or sit down?

Not the Buffet. A fat person going to the Buffet table is watched by every anorexic tart in the place. I'm not kidding, you can feel the hunger vibes with every spoonful.

Take-out is great but not if you don't have a car. The take-out ends up breeding salmonella by the bucket load if you have to walk it home.

Sit down take-out Buffet with a butler handing me the silver service, draping the Egyptian 500 thread cotton serviette round my neck and programming the DVD for a Harry Potter marathon is my idea of a good night.



14. What's the most impressive meal you've ever made?

A full Indian, Sri Lankan Thai banquet which was ruined by a political discussion turning violent with most of the guests of a differing political persuasion attacking the host.

And that was before they got stuck into the booze. Most of the neighbours have now upwardly mobiled themselves far far away but I bet they're still as boorish and rude as they were that night.



15. Do you consider yourself a good cook?

I used to be but now I consider myself an excellent reader of cook books and cake blogs. Any morning I can boil the eggs to perfection and get them out of the pot without dropping them in the sink is a good morning.



16. Do you know what vichyssoise is?

It's French. Something to do with potatoes, leeks and chicken stock and you can serve it cold.

There's something horribly wrong with cold soup.



17. Who's your favourite TV cook?

It has to be two, Simon Bryant and Maggie Beer. I love what they do with the most incredible ingredients and they tell you about them, where they're grown and who grows them. I just close my eyes when they go to choose some clucker, moo or bah for the chop. It's all very well to tell me that they've lived a happy free range life and death was peaceful but slapping a slab of meat on the counter when I'm still out there free ranging isn't my bag.



18. Can you name 3 famous cooking personalities?

Stephanie Alexander, bless her for the school vegetable garden scheme.

Margaret Fulton, who started my passion for food when I saw her full colour cook books.

Nigella Lawson because she licks the spoon when baking a cake. She was a great favourite but the sexy cooking act is a bit too staged these days and I find her boring.



19. Home made or home made from a box.

If we're talking weetbix, it's home made from a box. Anything else from a box is useless because the instructions always say, add meat or add something else and if you can't make the dinner out of the box itself, what's the point. Home made from a bottle is something else, vegetables and bottle pasta sauce is my staple diet. ( don't mention the apple cakes)



20. I'm supposed to tag 3 more foodies but in my circle of blog friends I might be better off trying to tag 3 more boozers.

A BLUE RIBBON NOM

River said her mince pies were good

enough to eat without cream.

She's right, they're noms I could

seriously nom without cream.

I award you the Nom d'Nom Prix.

STORMY WEATHER

This photo was taken on Friday 13th November as a giant wave surges towards the 60 foot high sea wall at Porthleven in West Cornwall.



As it hits, it swamps the wall with local people saying it is the largest wave they've ever seen.

The storms hit coastal regions with a vengeance with the strongest winds of 100 mph recorded at Needles on the Isle of Wight.

THE CLICK OF A SHUTTER

From one of the best artist and photographers image blogs . I can't say who the photographer was since google decided not to translate Catalan for me. I love the symmetry not to mention the difficulty of photographing two dancers on swinging ropes but this is sheer poetry.





It's a bit too late for me to put this on my "bukkit lizt" but I dreamt of defying gravity in my younger days. Now the "bukkit lizt" has 'learn to waltz' as my only ambition. ( and staying upright while I do)

MY MOTTO FOR THE ANNUAL YULE BINGE

SIX WEEKS TO SAVE UP AND BUY ME THIS

There's no doubt about the poms having style even though the country might be drowning in debt, Harrods are flying the flag for Christmas. Gold Christmas crackers, glitter leaf, gold bows, glitter gold feathers and Christmas trees. Almost too good to rip 'em apart except for the goodies inside.

You'll have to click to see the luxe inside the crackers but I have dibs on the cloisonne enamelled box with crystals although the fine socks would keep my toes warm for winter. I haven't a clue how to work an MP3 player and I don't have pierced ears (nipple studs for Andrew?).

It's a snip at 599 quid for six.

PROGRESS REPORT

When the Bombay big blue bottle is nearing empty and looking at nekkid blokes is getting boring then I go to Su's blog and lust after the noms. I swear I could clear that plate without breaking a sweat.


Emotional crisis is easing to below hysteria level.
Financial crisis has eased thanks to lovely people who are so trusting they're prepared to wait until the selling of the house and settlement.

Still my bitching sister wants more.
Contents insurance is no more just the house is covered which saved us a grand total of $25 a month. Need I say she doesn't believe in insurance?
Monday I go to the bank with my best begging appearance and try to stop the payment of the mastercard completely until the house settlement.
All saved money will go towards the nursing home's new rates. Centrelink bastards are going to want backpay of this additional payment, right back to the day she went into care, 22nd August.

You notice who's doing all this begging and phoning, not sister and on settling day I promise myself she's going to get a mouthful.

The good ship 'Mother' sails on contentedly. Reading books, winning at Bingo and making lists of what she wants done with her worldly goods. She's off to the RSL for lunch next Friday and looking forward to the residents and family Christmas Party. I'll be sneaking in the Bombay via a water bottle.

TOO MUCH CRYING, NOT ENOUGH DROOLING

Noice isn't he? Now he's what I call heavy duty therapy.

Jayne, he has a drop of water on his jaw, you might like to come over and use that whole towell to wipe it off. I'll just stand and watch.

Kath, would you like to give a review of a good melting chocolate? I wouldn't want to drip any nasty compound stuff on him.

Andrew, you may look but not touch, the girls and I don't like fingerprints on our sweets.

I CAN'T SLEEP AND THE GIN ISN'T WORKING

Nor are the sleeping pills, the fan isn't keeping me cool and the ladder up from the pit has rungs missing.

This is all my fault. Last week I had 24 hours where I was blissfully happy, bills paid, groceries bought and enough money to buy a pair of Homeyped pewter sandals for summer. I was smiling with the happiness-o-meter off the scale.

Until I got home and picked up the thin envelope with one sheet of paper that said we had to pay and extra $24.22 a day above what Mum is paying with her pension. You've all seen those films with the earthquake making a huge crack in the ground and everything falling in which is where I've been for the last couple of days.

I've finally come to terms with her being in the home because she's so happy. I've finally put away all her ribbons and laces, given a lot to a charity group and the activity room at the home doesn't know what to make next after years of never having enough. It was a big adjustment, mentally, to see these things disappear.

Now as a Leo and a fixed fire sign, I need my house to keep me grounded. It's my pleasure palace as often as not masquerading as a rubbish dump but my treasures are in every corner. I fought to keep it when El Creepo pissed off with his tart although I offered to leave his name on the title. Generosity made me do it and getting up her nose with said generosity as 'tenants in common' meant that if he croaked she would get his half but not until I kicked the bucket but in the end he gave it to me as long as I gave up any claim to his money. My deal was better.

So today was spent appealing to Centrelink and the Department of Ageing who enjoyed using me as a shuttlecock as they each told me to contact the other. It's no dealing with them at all, the cut off point for using 85% of a pension is assets of $91,000 and so we have to pay and we don't have the money. The rent that the BrickOutHouse is paying is just keeping up with the debts mommiedearest left to us. I've called the Real Estate agent to inspect the house next week and it goes on the market as is.

It was check AGL, APIA, council rates, St George reverse mortgage, S.E. water to see if we had to pay out any account before settlement, fortunately not. Our solicitor does all of that. I still have to do a deal with the nursing home as it could be 5 months before selling and settlement and we still won't have enough money for that extra. They have put me on to a financial advisor that specializes in Aged Care trusts since I'm determined that Centrelink will not get its greedy claws into whatever is left after all the bills are paid and drop her pension down. Poor financial advisor, he won't get paid until settlement either.

I feel for my nephew. After the three years of hell his grandmother has put him through, he's had two and a half months living in a house to himself and now he has to go. It isn't fair but he's taking it okay, obviously not a Leo fixed fire sign. I don't even know if we'll be able to give him some money to get established. There's only the three of us in the family and when the house goes, we'll be broken up, memories are just memories not superglue. The 1953 house on the muddy road in the bush is now in the middle of hotshot suburbia and I don't think I'll be able to walk down that street again.

Mum is fine with it, she said on Sunday that it hadn't been her home for a long time. She did tell me to use Aitken Real Estate as she liked the man she had out to value it 10 years ago. Ten years ago, six months ago she couldn't remember her own name which is why I don't mind how much this great place costs us.

Another financial and emotional crisis.
Back soon.

FOOD MEME - PART TWO

6. What food can you so not eat?

Foie Gras. Tripe. Anything I've been introduced to. Anything I'd have to kill myself. Pig's ears, not even Nigella can make eating them sexy. Duck's feet, actually anything feet. Not even swimsuit boy in his yumminess could make me chomp on his feet.

7. You need a drink, you grab a...........

Cute waiter, well I'm thirsty and I need attention. mumble, mumble back to the meme. If it's summer then soda water with lemon and a million ice cubes. If the sun is over the yardarm then add Bombay. If it's winter, coffee with cocoa in the morning and Earl Grey tea in the afternoon. (I'se so terribly refined)
I also love fruit smoothies at any time but the kilojules would bust a diet in the manner of Humpty Dumpty, never to be put back together.

8. What's the most decadent dish you've every had?

Ooh, there was that time we used that sweet thing as a serving platter for Petit Fours using his navel for a sugar basin for the tea. What? I see, cooked dish. Damn, I don't think I've ever had a decadent dish. Does eating fish and chips out of clean white paper instead of newsprint count?

I did eat one of those enormous ice-cream sundaes with 5 flavours, chopped nuts, raspberry, chocolate and passionfruit syrup. It was when the City Square went all underground with lounge chairs, for which the homeless were eternally grateful, and they had an American type ice-cream parlor. The sundae came in an 8 inch tall champagne type plastic container.

9. What's your favourite type of food?

Nothing that's moving. Nothing I have to eat with chopsticks. Nothing I have to share with anybody. Something I can eat with fingers in front of the teev or with one fork and one dish. Nothing on bamboo skewers, everything falls off after the first bite.

10. Favourite dish.

Do you have an hour to read this? I've already done bread, pavlova, chocolate, ice-cream.
I do love pasta with a yum sauce especially papardelle pasta. I never eat pasta outside, in public or on a first date. It is an anti-social dish best eaten with a tea towell and painting drop sheet. I have never yet eaten a whole dish without dropping half down the cleavage. It also has to have three cheeses (kilojules again) parmesan, romano and cheddar. Don't forget the garlic and herb bread for mopping up.

You see why I'm doing this in parts? The hunger, I'm like a vampire on speed when reading food blogs especially the cake blogs. It's a blessing I've become too lazy to cook, looking at the pictures is enough. And, weighing oneself in the bathroom instead of the bedroom drops the scales out of the redwarningdanger by 2kgs. W00T!

FOOD MEME - PART ONE

I have to do this in stages or I'll end up sobbing. The scales were most unkind this morning probably something to do with humidity affecting the internal workings of the machine. Anyway, chocolate, ice-cream, apple cakes (sob) and anything else remotely pleasurable is verboten.

1. What's your No. 1 comfort food?

I know you lot, you're all thinking chocolate, right? Wrong, it's bread. Gorgeous wonderful bread in all its varieties especially straight from the oven. And with butter, which I'm not allowed to have but occasionally sneak onto a bread anything. Is there anything more delicious than a sausage with fried onions and tomato sauce on a thick slab of fresh white bread? Sanatarium make tofu sausages that almost equal the meat sausages so I recommend them. There's a shop in Hampton that bakes huge blocks of Turkish bread, divine. Cheese bread with olives and tomatoes......... I'm dying here.

2. If you were stranded on a desert island, what 5 foods would you want to have with you to survive on?

All the fixings to make bread.
Chocolate.
Butter for the bread.
Ice-cream to put the chocolate on.
Gin. Bombay Sapphire is too a food especially if it has a lemon in it.

3. What are your signature dishes (what dishes are you known for making)?

I had signature dishes once when I used to cook. It makes me tired just to think about them.
I used to make tiny meatballs wrapped in bacon, on a bed of rice, covered with a tomato sauce and sliced stuffed olives.
I used to make a Christmas cake full of fruit full of booze but not ordinary booze, Tia Maria which gave it a coffee kick.
Then there was the year (talk about Julie and Julia) where I cooked my way through Charmaine Solomon's Asian cookbook. I even made my own coconut milk and hand ground the spices.
My signature dish is now bread and jam and ice-cream with melted chocolate, okay two signature dishes.

4. It's Friday, you don't know what to cook, you opt for......

Chips. If I want to be fancy, chip butties. If I've forgotten to buy spuds, it's butties anything that hasn't died in the fridge. I know chips come under cooking but if you can cook it in your sleep, technically it isn't cooking.

5. What's your ultimate food weakness?

Pavlova. Coffee pavlova, plain pavlova with cream and passionfruit, praline pavlova with chocolate cream, anything pavlova. I'm like a truffle pig, I can sniff out a pav within three miles.
At a buffet, I start at the Pavlova end and finish there. Crispy shell on the outside, luscious marshmallow melting centre, whipped cream and raspberries with drizzled melted chocolate. If only they made blokes like this, I could get to like sex again.

OMENS FOR THE BIG RACE

There are plenty, too many to pick the winner which I never do.
There was that enormous thunderstorm on Thursday night, a light show that went on for an hour and teeming rain.

I like a shower at night but I'm canny in a thunderstorm, I light a candle in the bathroom. It's very Hitchcock to be in the middle of a shower when the lights go out.
What I didn't need was a factory alarm to short and continue wah-wahing until 4.30 in the morning.

More thunder on Friday night, more rain and lightning. No sleeping so I turned the computer on and surfed until the wee small hours. Back to bed and drifting to sleep when 'the noise' went off under my bedroom window. Not a cat fight, not a possum fight but a lost duck. The duck family have taken up residence in the pool across the road but this one must have faulty GPS to land under my window and if it flew in, it could fly out. Just another noise in the catalogue of things to fright about.

Mother rang to say she'd paid for my Sunday lunch at the home. Now that's blackmail, who can resist a free meal. Luckily the apple cake bakery is open all day on a Sunday.

A lot of omens but I couldn't find a horse that suited any of them and as much as I would like to see Bart win another Cup, I really want the longest priced outsider horse to win. That's what makes the Cup great, the uncertainty.

SING LOUDLY 'OH WHAT A NIGHT!' WOO-AH

Halloween, my night of nights

A yearly bath in some noxious moat water

and a touch of Eau de Swamp

My best royal purple rig

It goes so precious with my complexion

A bit of a brew up with the ghorls
We make a mean proof gin
This year we didn't dissolve the cauldron
Forgot the olives


Flight home was a bit bumpy
But coming in on a broom and a prayer
A Halloween tradition



Bloody Igor! Two instructions only
Let the bats out
Leave the drawbridge down
If the ghoul had half a brain it
would be lonely
Wait, he has only half a brain
Sold the other half to
that looney doctor down the hill
for some science experiment

Well that's it for another year
Done me broom licence
Six months
Didn't think the brew was that strong
Bloody Igor
All Saints Day now
Damn ringing bells
Head aches