Slag off at youth fashion and it means "OLD"

 Miss O'Dyne sent me this image some time ago when I was drooling on about velvet gowns and at 17 I really wanted to be this sophisticated. At 18 I managed to get the hair right and on my best coat I had an Arctic Fox fur collar. In those far off days of walking and freezing trains and no way of ever owning a car, I needed the warmth and we weren't exactly taught the moral ethics of not killing animals for fashion. The velvet dresses came later, much too late for the kind of lounging that Miss Elegance has perfected. I remembered this photo while I was wandering through the luxury items of Buccellati jewellers and I knew these ruby and diamond earrings would be perfect and of course a matching bracelet to complete the decadence.

Now we can start the bitching. Her straggling hair. Her bra straps. Her shapeless velvet and miles too short dress. Heavy belt, grungy jewellery and "shooties", cross between a shoe and a boot. You see what I mean about "old", it isn't elegant to me. It isn't even good dressing. I would wear that out to get the milk. But that's just me and even if she was my granddaughter I'd never say a word to her face. Behind her back is another matter. What's life when you're old without something to bitch about. At least she hasn't the bad taste to wear my beloved Buccellati rubies with it.

Pink and the air is blue.

Now River you could whip this up in an afternoon in all those bright colours to match your decor.
It doesn't look like it's rigged to actually light up a room but as a statement, it makes one.

Christmas dinner at the Home, what can I say about it......lots......

1. The turkey was well cooked. My mother thought it was pork, the lady next to her thought it was lamb. 
2. A simple onion flavoured gravy and lord knows there are plenty of liquid gravies out there that don't need work just a zap in the microwave.
3. Great long strips of undercooked sauteed onion slapped on top of the meal in a minute amount of liquid does not substitute for gravy, proper gravy. Pardon me, but this is where I step up to my soapbox. These are old people, they don't handle onions very well, small diced, well cooked onions in a lot of sauce, maybe. Not long thick bits of onion they can choke on.
4. An entree is some food that is put on a plate in front of you to eat. It is not thick slices of ham surrounded by tiny (rockhard) gherkins and cocktail onions both of which old people can choke on. That is if they could get to them. Put in the middle of the table secure under cling wrap with no serving tongs made it damn hard unless like Inspector Gadget someone had hidden extendable arms. Eventually the serving boy from the kitchen remember to remove the wrap but still didn't put out tongs. Nobody touched it except  me and I had to use my dessert spoon. 
5. What is the point of writing a menu in flowery language then rolling it up and tying it when most of the residents can't untie anything. Some asked if it was part of the meal.
6. None of the relatives were asked if they would like a glass of wine. I had two bottle of vodka lime and bitters, lucky me. The only drink on the table, in the middle where no-one could reach it, was a jug of ice water. No cordial, no lemonade, no pretty Christmas cups.
7. When the menu says, pudding with custard, trifle and pavlova, I expect them all to appear. The pavlova disappeared into the fridge and wasn't seen again until yesterday when I arrived at the Home to find a piece waiting for me. Now I'm certain the rooms are bugged considering how I went on about it.
8. No coffee was served and no-one was asked if they wanted it.
9. Coffee would have helped the dry crumbly mince pies go down. Crumbs choke old people. What was wrong with thinking ahead and buying the pies with the lattice tops, not so many crumbs and a smaller size.
10. No table cloths because an activities supervisor wasn't rostered on to make sure everything was Christmasy. Actually one was but she was told very rudely, not to bother coming in. She snuck in later to see everybody and caught me in full flight. Them-in-charge too cheap to pay her double time for the day. She would have made a big difference to the atmosphere and made sure all the residents knew what was what.

The idea of a newsletter is to put news in it. That includes a form letting the staff know who is being taken out for the day so that 10 people don't suddenly need to be showered when relatives turn up and ask if they're ready. Next year (I can't believe I said that) I will be having lunch with mum in her room and I'll bring the food with me. Was it worth the $18 I had to pay? Bloody hell NO. And my shit sister did not give me a present again, bitch. I might have bingo wings but she's starting to get turkey neck bwahahahhaha!

Look slowly but closely

 This is the Diga del Cingino dam in Italy.  See those little dots on the wall.

 They are European Ibex and they like to eat the moss & lichen growing on the wall.
They are also licking the salt off the stone.

 I bet they don't ever look down.

Fancy something to do after Christmas?

This is clever and something I would never have thought of in a million years to use old glass. How many times have I walked through an op shop and loved a dish or old vase and not bought it as I didn't need it.  Now I know what to do. These are from America and are called garden glass totems.
You can build it up with tea cups and a teapot, glass vases or like the image above, crown it with a glass ornament. Doesn't he look gorgeous?

 Or how about that atrocious Venetian glass bowl you might have been landed with as a wedding present which now can be turned into a bird bath.  The trick is to bury the bottom into the garden to hold it straight and use silicon waterproof glue, the clear stuff.

This is so simple and lovely, bird bath or bird feeder depending on how deep the bowl is. I could cry at all those chipped and cracked glass whatsits that I have tossed out and can never get back. Even cleaning out mum's house there were bowls that went to the op-shop in the de-cluttering. Fortunately I have plenty of op-shops to visit and any glass bits that take my eye now will be coming home.
Even just odd glasses put together and plonked in the ivy to catch the sun would be lovely especially if coloured.  Elephant's Child I can just see something like this popping up with your spring bulbs and River, even your small plot could take a small totem. But Miss O'Dyne, the mad bird lady will have glass bird baths from here to forever and they will all look lovely.

Falling Stars for Christmas Earth

 Geminid Meteors over Teide Volcano
Image Credit & Copyright: Juan Carlos Casado (TWAN, Earth and Stars)

Explanation: On some nights it rains meteors. Peaking two nights ago, asteroid dust streaked through the dark skies of Earth, showering down during the annual Geminids meteor shower. Astrophotographer Juan Carlos Casado captured the space weather event, as pictured above, in a series of exposures spanning about 2.3 hours using a wide angle lens.
The snowcapped Teide volcano of the Canary Islands of Spain towers in the foreground, while the picturesque constellation of Orion highlights the background. The star appearing just near the top of the volcano is Rigel.
Although the asteroid dust particles are traveling parallel to each other, the resulting meteor streaks appear to radiate from a single point on the sky, in this case in the constellation of Gemini, off the top of the image. Like train tracks appearing to converge in the distance, the meteor radiant effect is due to perspective. The astrophotographer has estimated that there are about 50 Geminids visible in the above composite image.

I meant to post this yesterday but it was just too hot to think and now I'm too tired to think so I just cut and pasted instead of looking up all the places the piece mentions. Great meteor shower though.

Yesterday I fell over, almost over and I can't begin to tell you how ridiculous the whole thing was and all because I didn't move the lamp table 6 inches. I knelt on the footstool to change the powerboard but couldn't see the switch properly so while I was faffing around, the footstool slid one way and I went the other. Fortunately the wall stopped my head and me from falling completely over the footstool. So it was head in wall, bum in air, left arm on couch, right arm on lamp table, one foot on ground and can't remember where the other foot was. I am hurting in a dozen places still but the powerboard is in place because when I pulled myself back up (and there was snivelling and sobbing) I moved the lamp table 6 inches.
IceBear was such a help, sitting beside his empty dish in the kitchen. He and the possums are not getting on together. Possums were back in the kitchen last night, snouts in the kibble. IB was in the tree, higher up than the possums so when they rolled back out with the apples I gave them, he lept from the top branch and the brawling was on. He finally strolled inside at midnight and plonked in front of the fan.
This morning I was back to Southland, early and I swear I had HoChiMinh driving the taxi. I know he's dead but this guy was driving like he had nothing to lose including his life. Bought everything on the list including a bird bell and I was sorely tempting to write in the food register at the Home, fucking bird bell for fucking parrots, but I contented myself with not writing down the custard tart I had for mum. Lunch was pototato gems and left over chicken thingies from their Christmas party, not even a bit of mayonnaise on the side. I was hungry, I ate them. Mother snarfed the custard tart.
Now I don't have to go there until Christmas Day.
I should go out and clean the water dish for the birds after the brawl in it last night but my knees are hurting. I'm trying not to mention the allergy otherwise the urge to scratch will start up again.
And I'm full of sugar. I just ate the most luscious piece of berry and almond nougat I've ever had, good stuff, it even had rice paper on it so it wouldn't stick to the wrapper. I will be good for dinner, sourdough and olive bruschetta with tomatoes and mozzarella and feta cheese. Then the jewelled Christmas Tree is being made. Hopefully I'll have photos tomorrow.

Back from extinction

Known as the Spiral Saw, the Helicoprion is said to have lived during the Carboniferous period and was one of the few creatures able to live through the Permian-Triassic extinction event (‘The Great Dying’). Eventually the Helicoprion went extinct during the Triassic period. It had teeth like a circular saw, connected on the lower jaw. As new teeth grew, the older teeth were pushed out and into the middle to create the spiral. Length-wise the creature was said to be 10-15 feet.

Pardon me, but it does remind me of Canberra politicians. Big mouth, enough teeth to chew up and spit out the poor unfortunate beings on it's target list like the poor, ill, disabled or blue collar worker.

It's nice to see that one ex-politician has fallen on her feet after losing her seat to a much better woman.
Sophie Mirabella has been appointed to the board of the government-owned naval shipbuilding firm ASC Pty Ltd. Note the "government-owned", wonder how long before they're looking for a buyer.
The firm's been having a bit of trouble with their Air Warfare Destroyer and Collins Class submarine and along with her appointment and her expertise to who knows what about ship building, the government also announced a review of the Air Warfare Destroyer programme.
Senator Cormann and Defence Minister David Johnston said in a statement there were "clearly issues associated with this important programme" but blamed the problems on the former Labor government. Quel surprise!
Mrs Mirabella will be serving a three year term on the board unless they junk the whole thing and she gets another handout along with the handout she received when she (oh sob) lost her seat in Parliament.

That giant gobbed fish should be the LNP mascot.

Concentration terminated by 'Oooh Shiny'

I was looking for Christmas cakes for my usual post a Christmas thingy in the run up to pudding season and I was sidetracked by these cakes. I mean the work, the imagination and where would you start cutting and would you want to. Click the biggie button for this one.

This was sort of Indian meets peacock and paisley. Overdone? But I loved the colours. Reminds me of my groom and his party at the Church before the reception.
 

A birdhouse cake was to divine to pass by. Paint the birds as robins and whack some holly and berries on the cake. Ditch the green roof for sparkly snow icing and Christmas cake. 

 I had to put this in. My grandmother iced my aunt's wedding cake in this manner but without the top bunch of flowers. She also baked the cakes in wood fired oven in the pans my grandfather made. He also made the wooden stand for the cake. I kept a pot plant on that stand for years, he made everything to last. The cake is frivolous but the artistry is wow.

I was really struck by this one for the audacity of having emerald. Tradition has it that one must ask the fairies for permission to wear their colour green at any wedding or it will end in tears. Come to think of it, my bridesmaids wore pale apple green dresses. I really wanted an elegant wedding, I got a bogan booze-up before the word was even invented.

I didn't vote for them

Well good old Environment Minister Greg Hunt has approved projects that will mangle our Great Barrier Reef. Take a good look at the photo, it might be the last pristine look we'll get.

let me see, dredging 3 million cubic metres of spoil which will be dumped in the reef's waters all for the development of three coal export terminals at Abbot Point.
He also approved the building of a new coal terminal at Abbot Point by Indian mining giant Adani and we all know how environmentally conscious Indian mining giants are.
And a new processing plant for coal seem gas on Curtis Island. That project has dredging of 1.4 million cubic metres of crap at Port Curtis and the mouth of the Calliope River near Gladstone. The icing on the cake there is a proposed pipeline to the plant.

Mr Hunt said he had imposed 148 strict environmental conditions on the developments.
The reef already has a problem with water quality from farm runoff which is damaging corals, sea grass and marine habitats.
Queensland Resources Council Chief Executive Michael Roche welcomed the decision and said it confirm that industry could co-exist with the reef. 
Oh Yeah, let's hear from the Tourism Minister and what he thinks.
 
I signed the petition to stop this along with a lot of other people but obviously we're just a lot a reef huggers and nutters.
I didn't vote for them, I'm going to have a button made and wear it.

Legends of the Guardian

The IceBear, great guard cat of the house. Here he is guarding the rubbish on the floor and filling up the vacant space in front of the heater. 
Last night he was at his usual outdoor post at the front gate, hiding behind the black mesh because he doesn't think anyone can see him. I could until twilight disappeared. 
When I heard clinking in the kitchen I just thought he'd come in for a snack before guard duty again. Ah, that would be no, he's still at the front gate and mummy possum and baby were munching away in the kitchen. Baby nibbling the turkey and mummy scoffing kitty kibble and these are horse size kibble bits.
They both shot out of the house and up the apple tree so I cut up some apples and threw them out of the door. I would have gone out and put them nicely under the tree except for the spider who had spun a web from the apple tree to the recycle bin and up to the spouting. So I had to throw very gently to the tree so I wouldn't break the web.
WonderBlunder comes around the corner and goes for the apple, I mean, food is food. And finds himself nose to nose with mummy possum. He runs....the wrong way. He goes all the way around the house to where he started and comes in the back door to an empty dish which I get to fill again.
The night before, on guard duty again, he doesn't notice the black fuzzy cat sneak down and come in the back door and start on his food until I roared. 
And did I say I thought the huntsman spider was a fast mover, roaming the house and claiming territory? I picked him up in the bedroom and popped him outside.  Found the other one in the laundry, much bigger and now disappeared. Believe me the washing is getting a good shake before going in the machine because if I open the lid and some shiny squeaky clean bloody huntsman throws himself at me, I won't make Christmas.

Whoop whoop and away.

 This is the Whooping Crane which stands five feet tall with a seven-foot wingspan and is the subject of a heartwarming story for the Christmas season.
The poor bird is still on the highly endangered list but have several wildlife refuges and dedicated researchers looking after them.
The researchers have found that like humans, survival wisdom is passed down the generations but if there are not enough old birds to teach things like how to migrate to warm Florida for the winter then the substitutes stand in.

 

This odd looking individual is dressed in a crane suit and he is standing in as parent to the young chick. Not only do they dress in costume but adhere to a strict no-talking rule to ensure the birds remain wild.
 The fake crane leads on the ground but also by using ultralight aircraft teaches the migration route.
The birds migrate back without guidance in the spring.

Researchers monitored the age, size and kinship of all birds that weren't led by a human, between 2002-9.
The team found that the age of the oldest individual in the group improved the migration accuracy by deviating less from the straight path. 
The article didn't mention what sex, only age, but it has to be female flying straight, you know males and their sense of direction.

I've always said we have the right PM for the time.

Remember Mal and his "Life wasn't meant to be easy". Okay so we all know he's been misquoted over the years but he'll never live this down.

Remember Paul and his "The recession we had to have."

And now we have good old Tones who has ruined my post by doing another back-flip but I'll post it anyway. Dear Lord I can see my Father, if he was with us, just throwing the whole tv through the window.
"We are going to keep the promise we made, not the promise that some people thought we made or the promise that some people might have liked us to make. We are going to keep the promise that we actually made".

So do we have the right PM for the time?  Oh gawd no, we're all doomed.


A mother visit today and more insanity.  She was in bed, breathless which is a worry and I noticed a large red blotch on her face. After an hour I noticed that there were two red lines running from it down to her jaw. Asked her if her face was hurting, yes it was. Then tells me the story of the resident in the opposite bed who flapped her fan last night and walloped a moth straight into mum's face. At first she thought it had gone into her eye and she did say it was painful then. She was more worried that the moth had dropped into the bed. I can only think that the moth had pollen on it and the old girl is extremely allergic to pollen. Doc Marvin visits tomorrow morning but I made sure the office came and checked and noted it. They had a small ice pack to stop the swelling which helped.
But stupid me, who had the camera in my bag didn't take a photo. I should know by now to get proof. It'll make Doc Marvin's day, only my mother could get taken out by a low flying moth.

Groundhog Week.

Mother is not well, ho jolly ho!  Pardon me while I don't care. I don't care because the exact same time last year mother was not well.  I ran around in circles making sure she was comfortable etc, etc and by the 10th she was sitting up making Christmas cards as though nothing had happened. So this year I'm not caring. I was there on Friday and did it matter that I was not feeling the best, no, the orders came thick and fast.  Tomorrow is the anniversary of my father's death and I'm hoping she doesn't remember or I'll get a sobbing phone call.
The Home which was always a pleasant place is not so anymore. They had a Residents and Relatives meeting on Wednesday and I had my list of complaints ready to go except I didn't get a notice that it was on. How strange!  Three times on Friday I had to get up and move the bed control and emergency bell back within mother's reach. The next carer to swing it out of the way and not put it back was going to get a mouthful. It's called thinking of the resident but they don't seem to have it in their skulls.
Definitely not going to the Christmas Party, far too close to a full moon and mother could not sit up that long in the wheel chair. The pain in her back needs more painkillers. I need a rest from Mother.
I need a rest from my sister, snivelling about how much the bank account has gone down and do I have to keep buying dvds for the old girl, yes, it keeps her off the phone to me. This really pissed me off considering how much she won over the Cup Carnival and spent on herself.
I have found I can still sew although I must take breaks and I can still paint but not draw, holding a pencil really cranks up the pain in the index finger so it's just a matter of doing one and tracing it off. Like last year, expect the cards sometime in the future, how much can I do in 23 days.
Lovely to see Miss O'Dyne for 15 minutes because I had called a cab to take me guess where. She left a bag of lovely jars to paint, lovely big pantry jars. 
I also have next year's diary to cover, 3 boxes and 3 other books. I've saved them to do all at once because the pain in the hands is going to need an icepack around both for 24 hours.
And just to top off all the other aches and crap, I put my foot down on the escalator just in time to have the next step come up and scrap the skin off the back of my leg.  Add that to the cat/Jasmine rash and you have one very bad tempered bitch.
I know this is probably a bit late for HighRiser's Christmas cake but I always cut at least 6 layers of newspaper to put over the top of the tin, not on the cake, but over the tin to stop any burning. My oven is a very hot one on the top shelf, too cool on the bottom so this always worked for me. Keeping the fruit in plonk for at least 4 weeks always had me worried about the oven just exploding from the fumes. 
You know where I'm going for Christmas lunch but then I'm coming home to quietness. I have too many memories of Christmases Past, some I never want to re-visit. 
I suppose when I visit Southland tomorrow those damn songs will be going full blast. Another reason for the quiet on the 25th.

Christmas dressing.

 Given the horror stories I've heard about the so-called celebration of Family Christmas I think this should be put on a T-shirt, apron or tattooed across the forehead of the family pest and there's always one family pest.  In my case, it was my Father-in-Law who walked in with hand at the ready and mouth open for business. We always had to keep an eye on the sharp knives and my father's temper as the afternoon wore on and it was wearing. Dad was a very slow eater. He never had  Christmas as a child so he used to enjoy every minute so mum learned to give him a small meal and hide a bigger one for after the walking stomach left. And it had to be hidden well, that man had a nose for food. Not only did my F-in-Law eat us out of house and home for Christmas lunch but had to race off later in order to reach a friend's place for their Christmas tea of fresh seafood. My poor M-in-Law would be exhausted but she trailed after him without complaint. Even the dog breathed a sigh of relief when they left. They never bothered my dear Ex, he was usually too pissed to know what day it was, bad luck having a birthday on the 24th of December.

This goes on my T-shirt on Boxing Day.  I am exhausted just thinking of those days and so glad I don't have to bother now. I plan to have some Bombay, a book and a mince pie and no visitors.

And the sewing machine is working. People (some) will get the promised last year's Christmas Presents. I had it serviced in February 2009 and hadn't had a chance to touch it since then but she started up and ran like a Ferrari. The only problem was the huntsman wandering around on the ceiling. He's now in the bedroom and even the cat is wary. At least he's out of the way of the machine and the five dresses I've already cut out. And I'm adhering to the traditional Copperwitch Christmas of every room in the house being in a complete state of chaos and mess but there is hope that the Christmas Brooch tree in the frame will be up, even if it's not quite in the frame. I intend to have a bash at that this afternoon and I mean bash with a geologist's pick since it's just 2mm out in one corner so if I smack it hard enough it'll fit. 

WBD

A columnist at the Daily Mail referred to these dresses as WBD as opposed to LBD or Why be Bothered Dress  as opposed to the Little Black Dress.  The little black dress is standard in any wardrobe, classy up dressed or day time down dressed. The why be bothered dress looks as if they couldn't be bothered putting on underwear and our last image of Jennifer Lawrence really shows why it looks trashy. How much more elegant it would have been with a full length underskirt instead of her all-in-one which must have been hell to get out of in the loo.  Second image down did have skin coloured mesh keeping back and front together but what an ugly get-up all over.

Would image 2 look graceful without those silk net petticoats? I don't think so. Of course I had to put in one of my favourite colours, that plum is gorgeous. Not fussed about Anne Hathaway's bustle but Sandra Bullock looks tall and elegant in non see through red. 
Call me old fashioned but I love beautiful gowns on the red carpet so girls, look in a mirror before you leave home and if you can see too much then so can we.

Still with the penguins

I love this photo. Very much in da 'Hood. "Hey Bro, dig the weird fat chick dancing the Watusi with the Rochester".

Mother's very tired and after being down at the Home every second day since last week, so am I.
She's okay to talk to but she's having problems that have never come up before like her breakfast coming up. Pain control is not controlling the nerve pain and fluid is building up in her chest but she's still giving me orders. She's happy enough and is in bed more often than out in the wheelchair. If she wants a jam sponge for afternoon tea because lunch was swill then as far as I'm concerned she can have it. It's not going to make much difference to her quality of life except to make it happier.

About the photo, see how he's leaning back on his tail, penguins have fat stubby tails like this or they have feather tails and now you'll never look at a penguin's face first again.

Still angsty, more penguins needed

Smiling now. I just love the penguins of Madagascar but don't the mob above them look as tough as.

Snow in November???

Miserable day, 12 degrees and raining. Mother not well. Watched first half hour of Parliament, vomit.
Bronwyn, 'oh the shark has pearly teeth dear' Bishop as Madame (make a good one) Speaker so impartial in keeping the Chamber's dignity. Cyclone damage horrendous but to climate deniers it was all done in a Hollywood studio. Qantas closes down maintenance at Avalon to shift it offshore, never flying now.  Scallop boat skipper in Tassie ships his scallops to Thailand because workers there don't ask for much money, never eating scallops now. Gov. outsourcing Centrelink to Post Offices?
Science grants, well two of my scientist friends are holding their breath as their applications are on hold. What did I expect when there was no-one smart enough to be appointed Science Minister or a PM not smart enough to know we needed one. It's enough to want to crawl under a rock  so let's look at penguins.

Catching up.

After saving up for so long to have this canvas print framed you'd think I'd remember to go and pick it up. I had the wooden frame and glass but the photograph that was in it looked much better in its original frame and I wanted something soothing and calming. It's always taking a chance buying from ebay but this was right but the other I bought, not so right. The picture was okay but the canvas it was printed on wasn't quality. The Framer rang, very apologetic as he'd had it finished for a couple of weeks and it had been hidden behind a larger painting. I hadn't worried as he'd told me he had 12 football jumpers to frame for the local team and since I'd already paid, it was out of sight, out of mind. The BOH had to hang it for me and on new hooks. The old hooks were put in by my ex who never bothered with such things as finding the studs and I'm surprised the heavy frame hadn't fallen. I like it, it is soothing and the inside mount picks up the soft apricot pink in the sky. It reminds me of holidays on the 90 mile beach, in the days when no-one thought of letting us roam for miles by ourselves. My mother might have but she didn't know that her sister was content to stay home and read a book while we wandered.

I have finally caught up with my blog reading although it's too late to leave comments on some posts. I visited a site which has not seen me for some time, long enough for the blog owner to start another but he left up the posts and I found  one of his posts very interesting. It linked to a privacy blog where you could check how secure your user name is. I won't hide the link but put it up in full http://planete.inrialpes.fr/projects/how-unique-are-usernames/ 

I am still being plagued by malware/adware problems and have downloaded several "free" removal products that have not performed at all. Apparently this malware which I picked up at a blog and it was just an ordinary blog I visit and immediately got the pop up windows and redirected pages. I'm still trying to nut out Firefox's blocking mechanisms but according to information this malware comes from going to dubious gentlemen's sites or teenage music downloading sites and it's very hard to remove. Swearing at it isn't hard at all and I'm doing that a lot. The Malware removal product that I did purchase was uninstalled, the free ones were also uninstalled. I've also discovered that AVG which I've always used has, for 2014, downgraded its free programme. What I need is a 10 year old nerd who'll work for Coca Cola and crisps to overhaul everything. I really do need a new CPU, this one is so old it doesn't have a dvd burner. Just as long as Blogger doesn't lose my blog. And does anyone know why the previous tries at a new template come up before the final final template does every time I log on?

And room for a Pony.

From the top, we have a 69 Falcon with no wheels but an American Mustang engine ready to be put in place. The BOH wanted a nice strong car for driving the precious child around. Kid will be 18 and driving it himself. We had a chap come down from Wodonga to buy the second hand gas tank and while he was here poking around the detritus, BOH sold him a bumper bar and several other bits and bobs. He puts everything on ebay and somebody is always looking for a part for an older car.
Next in line we have a combivan. This is now a national treasure as they've stopped making them. This will be a museum piece by the time it's finished. He does have half the interior done, bought a microwave and small oven, sink is in place and he needn't think I'm making the curtains. He has decided on a blue bottom with white top, blue interior and deep blue seats. Last week his aesthetic soul was outraged when an owner wanted black shiny thingies that go over the wheels when he had painted the rest a gorgeous metallic blue. I told him the payer was always right.
Next up should be the bottom photo. His first purchase of a soft top in metallic purple with celtic silver swirls along the sides.  It has fat wheels which means fat thingies over them and even I admit it looks awful, squat and not elegant. He's selling the wheels this week and the thingies. He's agonizing over the colour and I want it in the metallic swizzy purple and he says it's girly. Well, guess who's going to buy a swizzy purple convertible VW? I still have the purple synthetic leather I picked up at the hard rubbish collection last year but he's too caught up in the soft top manufacturing process to think of interiors.
So, third photo down. I wish I had taken a photo of this when it arrived in all its pale greeness, rust and general "Oh god, don't look at me I'm a wreck!" delight. He showed it to Himnextdoor who couldn't believe it was the same car. A random bloke walking his dog stopped in his tracks and drooled. My taxi driver this morning who is a VW tragic took 5 minutes to drive away. It's an almost Mercedes Blue he tells me but with a drop of this and a drip of that to make his perfect shade. $8,500.00 and it's yours.
I also had a silver something or other but that's gone to the factory for a makeover. Once he would have left a mess everywhere but now he comes and sweeps up the dust and parts are neatly stored ready for the next wally who can't resist a bit of car that might just come in handy. The convertible was wrapped tightly when rain was predicted and just as well because the local possums haven't forgiven him for removing the last combi. It had no windows and they loved partying the night away in the warmth.
He is an absolute perfectionist. The last VW, brilliant post box red had a minor defect on the engine cover where it just hit the carbie in the wrong way so he fixed that and re-did the cover. I couldn't see it but he assured me it was ruined. And this from the kid who loved nothing better than to take the wheels off his matchbox cars so they'd zoom better in the sandpit.

While I was walking

Yes, me walking to the bus and thinking. Kind neighbour asking if I wanted a lift when I was practically on the bus stop, thank you not since you passed me leaving home and then 20 mins away from the bus. Where was I, ah thinking and I don't think well on my feet but this was good. I've been looking at treadmills, go on, roll around screaming with laughter, but all of them are too big for the small space I have left. I'm still the custodian of BOH's furniture, clothes and kitchen stuff so there's only one small part of the study and these damn machines don't look big until you get one in the house. What I need is a walking treadmill, no running room because there's no way I'll run anytime soon, but a small square walk pad, handles and simple control, 2 speeds, walk and crawl.
Why hasn't someone thought of this for old people, fat people and people who fall over gumnuts on footpaths? If I buy a treadmill, it's weight has to go up to 150kgs which I think is dumb because that's for running, I'm thinking crawl here and they're damned expensive. I don't need an incline button, I don't need a clock ticking away my heart attack only two handrests so I don't fall off and a square foot pad. I could do 30 mins 3 times a day just doing a slow walk and put in optional extra, a book rest. All this thinking and I didn't fall over once.

I haven't walked to the bus in quite some time and it was interesting to see changes. Little house on the corner just sold for $600,000, not much room on the block, corner block though and only 3 bedrooms and one bathroom. First owner was one of those manic house proud lunatics who laid the breakfast table before going to bed at night and threw the kids out of bed at dawn to have the bedrooms perfect before the school run. No lace curtains, just drapes pulled back to show the immaculate housekeeping. Bitch. I had photos on the blog somewhere showing the fantastic Wisteria over the arched front gate which the current owners have cut down.  Speaking of Wisteria, I left my camera at home as usual and I came across another lych gate with Pink Wisteria. I've never seen Pink Wisteria before only the purple stuff. I defer to River and Elephant's Child to tell me that it really exists. It means another walk with the camera to catch it but considering the wind today there'll be no blossoms left this week.

So around the corner from the white house, the storm had brought down a branch from a flowering gum. This tree was in a garden and it's been there for over 40 years but one branch and it wasn't a big branch considering the tree, knocked out the corner of two houses. Tiles off and guttering down and both over bedrooms, didn't take down the fence but cracked off the wood in places. When it flowers it's always full of lorikeets and I used to stop and watch them, up close and personal.
Around the next corner and another house sold. Almost the same layout as mine but on a slightly bigger block and has a garage, no garden (at least I have ivy) $664,000 for this one. I hope the ex trawls the home sale pages and sees these.

And the bus, another sadist driver not dropping the door but enjoyed watching me do Tarzan to get in. Myki wasn't working as usual, at the front, so I made sure I exited the same way and didn't pay.
Next driver was kinder and edged the bus right up to the footpath in Mentone, so much better but my knees still felt like they'd been struck with hammers.  Then I caught my arm in the handle of the door to the surgery and nearly broke it when the door slammed shut. Don't ask me how it happened, I was in too much other pain to notice.  Doc Marvin is satisfied with BGL, much better than last year.  If I go off the blood pressure and diabetic pills, nothing will happen now but maybe a stroke in a few years. I asked if that would happen before the heart attack and breakdown and he thought maybe all at once knowing how I never do things by halves. He did explain why the Diabetes mob continue to change the rules. They take a control group and study them, usually a mixture of good and bad conditions then make changes. Shame my diabetes educator doesn't read the memos about one size not fitting all and listens to me instead of talking at me. Bloody Doc is still laughing at her not knowing the difference between non-alcoholic ginger beer and writing me up as a drunk.

I ended the day with mother, again, still, evermore.

Looking backwards.

I've been going through the cds of images from 2005 and beyond and found this, an oldie but a goodie and it's still relevant. There's just a lot more of me dragging than there was and I have definitely snapped.
I did have good taste in men, though I don't recall from where I downloaded so many naked bods and surprise, so many have green eyes. I really have to do something about that fixation.

As to snap, sister rang to say she dreamed of going to mother's funeral last night and the eulogy was given by a Catholic nun who did a lovely job. She even remembered the nun's name. I, on the other hand had more of a nightmare.  My ex daughter-in-law moved into the house because she was getting re-married. She swanned around boasting of how much weight she'd lost (bitch) but every time I looked at her face she turned into Rose Porteous - without the billions. I wasn't impressed by the fact that she was scooping up my jewellery to wear on her head. If I'd have known I was going to dream this, I'd have stitched her a burlap bag.

A whining visit to Doc Marvin is on for tomorrow.  This time in 2012 he gave me a year to drop some weight, it hasn't happened, I'm-up-way-up-heart-attack-up if the nervous breakdown doesn't get me first. And they're running neck and neck so far.  An article in the paper yesterday blames stress as one cause of women not being able to lose weight. I'll go along with that. Two of the happiest years of my life came just after the divorce before mother threw her tentacles around me again. I didn't even notice losing 20 kgs, I was having so much fun running my own life.  Now I'm back to eating my way out of the prison of daughter in waiting and the combined diabetes educator and her rules and regulations about food.  I've been through 3 shrinks, 1 psychologist, 1 hynotherapist and a dietician. That poor dear was newly qualified and could barely tolerate the fat objects she was supposed to be helping. I bet she went on to be a life long food avoider.
Anyway there's not much I don't know about myself and the inner workings of my mind and the mind is off the tracks heading for the gorge with the bridge out and no Skippy to send for help.

My stars said that today I should not indulge in a spending spree because of depression as no good would come of it. If only I'd read them before I went to ebay.  Stupid astrology, doesn't it know that the thought that a goodie will magically appear in the letterbox at some stage during the week keeps me from staying under the bed permanently.  And where's spring, I'm bloody freezing.
 

A new look.

I thought it might be time for a new spring look. I'm worried even the bird looks worried. I'm not sure that I have the letters large enough to read but I'm sure I'll deal with that. It was a calming background not so in your face purple and I hope you lot appreciate that it's taken me nearly three hours to fix these colours in between panic attacks about losing the entire blog. I did download the old template but I'll give this one a chance.

Step away from the "Buy" button.

Aren't they just divine, gorgeous, luscious?  Step away from the "Buy" button??  It was never going to happen the longer I looked deep into these earrings.  Pierced, of course, but the back is flat enough to take a glued on clip arrangement which will turn them upside down and I'm ready to wear. You never know, I might go somewhere in one of my two green velvet dresses and I'll need these.
What would my life be without jewells, boring that's what.
Thanks to the ever helpful Miss O'Dyne who signed me up to Pinterest, I've just spent an hour and a half watching a slide show of lovely jewellery, not on that site though.  Since I first set up a computer in 2005, I've downloaded images of everything that interested me but I haven't kept them on the computer, I've put them all on CDs.  All on a master then on CDs in categories. I've only watched the jewell one and considering my memory hasn't been the best lately, I'm surprised at how many of them I could recall names of and ownership, we just won't mention how many ownerships are mine.
Pinterest looks interesting and once I get the hang of moving around I'm sure I'll enjoy every time wasting minute. Not time wasting, I should say educational experience and learning also calming instead of downing tranqs and Gin as the good ship Mother keeps sailing through my life.

I'm back in Kansas

My house is still standing although the phone line took a battering. Thanks to Telstra being helpful, it's now back online but I'm not telling anyone that yet especially mother. Telstra routed the landline calls through my mobile phone so I wasn't completely cut off, I just let everyone think that for some peace and quiet.
120kmh winds through here two days in a row. The backyard is littered with buckets,  chairs and boxes and they're wet so I'm not picking them up yet. The small branches of the gum tree came down but not the whole tree. Usually I don't mind the wind in the trees, it reminds me of a surf beach and I can go to sleep dreaming of that but this time all I could picture where those photos of lighthouses on the edge of nothing with waves heading for the light on top. The street didn't lose power which surprised me.
Mother heard the storm so she told me as I staggered down to the Home after a no sleep night. She has recovered from the lung rot and is doing well. Bloody terrific, I'm down a hole so deep I can see stars in day time. I keep telling you that she won't go until she figures a way to take me with her and the way I am now, I'll go first.  No arthritis pills for two days and I can barely hit these keys without moaning. I had to get the girl in the pharmacy to crack the childproof lid for me so I could take them at Southland. It's the knuckles across the right hand, burning and swollen and that's the hand that gets whacked because it's the one that hurts, Murphy's Law.
The great and useless IceBear was not frightened of the wind, not at all. Of course he never ventured from the fire to check it out except once when a load of water was dumped on top of him from the tree he was under. I swear his feet never touched carpet until he was on the bed and rolling on my doona cover to dry off. Cracking the tops on his cans of food isn't a load of laughs either.
And something else that hurts, using the remote control for the TV. I just have to calm down whenever politics hit the screen and take my time removing the offending politician from my sight (all sides).
I did enjoy Julia's interview though. She could have dumped a bin load of crap on all of them but didn't and I will buy her book when it's finished.
Phone is ringing, shame I'm here and it's out there. I'll ring the old girl later, much later, maybe next week.