Saturday, July 30, 2005

You're Never Far Away

Waking up so early these past couple of weeks, has, as to be expected, had me retiring for the night earlier than usual.

When I say waking early...I mean 5.30am early. Who the fuck wakes up THAT early unless they really HAVE to?? Not me. But recently it's becoming the norm. At first I'd lay awake, forcing my body to get back to sleep....eventually it became obvious that this was just not going to happen. So now I wake up at 5.30, get up, come check my blog comments and wander round my blog neighbourhood, reading you sleepily.

I don't usually comment at this hour of the morning. I just read...this is my time...an uninterrupted teenage-free zone (let's face it, there aint no way they're going to be awake at that hour of the day is there?)....I read peacefully, feeling myself drawn into your homes, your lives. I'm transported around the world in a manner of hours through reading you...I read, and sip my coffee and think "I'll go back and comment on that later"....this way, I believe when I'm truly awake properly later, all I have to do is zap back to you and comment cos I've already read your post.

This backfires on a regular basis....."How so?" I hear you asking.....I'm glad you asked. Because the time zone differences between us all can suck, that's why. Because once I've read you all, hustled the kids out of bed....warned them that they must have something for breakfast or they'll faint during phys-ed class...driven them to school, put the washing on, had my own breakfast and cleaned out THE CAT LITTER BOX (I yell that loudly due to the frustration of having to do it... I HATE that ritual, in fact, I'm thinking of getting the senses in my nose removed...or stopping breathing altogether.) (shit I'm off the subject again) *takes a breath*....because I find that I come back to read you and TA DAAAA!..you've posted again.

This means the comment I was originally going to put down is moot....or, I have to go back to your previous post and comment there and read your other one tomorrow morning...and then find you've posted again above and beyond. And sometimes....SOMETIMES....some of you have so much blogging fodder to impart, that you've posted 2, 3 and even 4 times in one day. Holy hell, Mary Mother of God...how is this possible?? I struggle to come up with one on a daily basis, let alone 4. *sigh*

No offence people, but sometimes it's a relief for me to find that you've not posted, or you've gone on holiday lol. The interesting part of all this reading posts and commenting circle for me?...I can't help myself....I have to come back to you and find out what's going on....I just have to. Depending on what I'm doing during my day, I often think of you.

I think of Fizzy when I'm putting the washing on (due to her broken machine earlier in the week) and when I see ducks....I saw the Eiffel Tower on a poster in the local travel agency window as I drove past...that immediately made me think of Jo....Happy and Blue springs to mind when I pass the local church and see it's billboard out front (and anytime I see a cyclist)....I saw Jeff Bridges on telly the other night and thought of Kurt....when I walked passed the fish counter in the supermarket, I think of Stacy.

The local hardware store always reminds me of MrHaney...how can it not? Every time I walk into 15's bedroom and see the picture of the wolf on his wall I'm reminded of Kathryn. Whenever I enter my bathroom I think of RainyPete. Anytime I'm called to the Principal's office at the college, I think of Brian. For some reason, when I look at the AirWalker exercise machine in my lounge, (maybe it's the fact I've not been using it) I think of Carol lol. The gold ring on my finger reminds me of Walker.

Speaking of that ring....one of my favourite 74 year old patients sprung in the door at work the other day...I say spring because that's what he does....he leapt in the door and saluted me. He leaned across the counter at me to tell me once again how pleased he was to see me...how nice I looked..how he always times his visits with Wednesday afternoons because he knows it's my shift...

Him: *looking at my hand* "Ooo, those are nice rings"
Me: *smiling* "Why thank you"
Him: "Yeah, The Warehouse have some quite nice things sometimes, don't they?"
Me: "Eh?!"...*pointing at finger*..."I got this particular one in Canada last year...a very dear friend gave it to me"
Him: "Hmm, really? Hope you earned it" *wink*
Me: *gasp, splutter* "Honestly! How you've managed to make it this far in life is beyond me!"

Anywaaaay....what I'm trying to say is (in a roundabout and rather disjointed manner)....you lot have become quite the part or my life. Not just in a blogging online sense, but you've managed to spill yourselves out of the screen and into my real life activities. What's more...I like that....I like that alot.

Now, come here you lot...yeah, come on.....let's all smoosh together and have a group hug.

*SQUEEEEEEEEZE*
Friday, July 29, 2005

Fizzy and Itisi

I saw this pic and it immediately made me think of Fizzy (but of course). I'm sorry Fizz, I just couldn't resist sharing this with you (course, there's a strong chance you've seen it already, but I'll take the risk). Please note: No duckies were injured in the production of these photos.

189

I've had a pretty shitty week as far as work is concerned. I can't be naffed going into detail about it (although there's a chance you may get to read about it if I feel the need to spew it out). All I can say is...I hate office politics...hate them!



After running around your blogs and commenting, this is what I'm going to be doing with the remainder of my time this coming weekend.



And by the time Sunday night rolls around, and I'm feeling well rested, I'll be ready to do this again on Monday morning.



One more thing....on the blog pimp front...the lovely Itisi, who has been known to comment here, and on Walker's blog, has caved in to the occasional nagging and created her own blog. Good for you Itisi, welcome to the blogisphere, I look forward to reading more when you're ready to put it out there. You lot go play nice with her.

Have a great day!
Thursday, July 28, 2005

Jury Duty

Yesterday I was listening to the car radio on my way to taking the boys to school. Grant and Polly (the DJs) have a 'series' that they do from time to time, it's called something or other "Jury". This allows people to write in, explain an iffy situation and then the question is put out to the listeners to either choose sides or say yay or nay. The situation of these scenarios (true ones, not pretend stuff) is to be resolved by the majority vote on how listeners think it should be resolved (ack, that's bad grammar, but I'm sure you know what I mean).

The story yesterday: Matt and Paula meet, fall in love and have been living together for some time. During that time, Matt purchases a large plasma screen tv....on Paula's credit card....but Matt is making the credit card payments. Matt found someone else...he leaves.

Now the split couple are fighting over who should keep the plasma screen tv. Most people that rang through to vote said that Matt should keep it....few said that Paula should. He wants it because he believes it's his screen, and he was paying her credit card bill. She wants to keep it because it was bought on her credit card.

I'm going to give my opinion as if I was in Paula's shoes. The sensible part of me, would like to keep my dignity intact and the post-friendship an amicable one....he should have it. Even though it was bought with her plastic...he was paying that off...thus she should let it go. (We all know how much guys love their plasma screen tvs right? Why ruin the good memories, fighting over an object that could surely turn those into down and out nastiness?)

The other part of me wants answers to more questions. Did he finish paying off all the credit card debt for the tv in question? If not, and she wants to keep it, then she should take over the payments right? How long were Matt and Paula living together? And let's back the truck up a little folks. Matt found someone else.

What do you mean he found them?? Where did this other someone come from? Did she skydive into his backyard one night when Paula wasn't looking? You can't tell me he just stumbled across someone, fell for them immediately and they blinded him to his relationship with Paula.

No, no, no, no,....he had to have been feeling that way for a while...with the possibility of a little (or a lot of) "sumptin sumptin" going on with that someone in the background, before he left Paula. So, the other part of me is not thinking so fairly.

When my marriage failed, I was fortunate in the material sense....my ex-husband left the house with nothing more than the bed we used to share, a set of drawers, the extra video player we had in the bedroom, a camcorder and the BBQ. I got to sleep on a two seater fold out foam sofa for about 6 weeks, no big deal. He could've taken more, but he chose not to...he figured it was best to leave things as 'normal' as possible for the sake of the children. I appreciated that. He took the business, I got the house and the majority of it's contents. Although I had put time into working the business as well...it was definitely his baby...his dream/idea that had grown into reality, and I had no plans to bitch about that and try to hustle for half of it. He appreciated that.

If however, my ex-husband had found someone else while I was still married to him...I'm not sure if I'd have been playing 'nice nice' at the end. I'd like to think I would hold my head high and continue the divorce proceedings with integrity, but I can't really say for sure because I've never been in that situation. Who knows how I would react after such a betrayal? I wouldn't allow him to see it had hurt me in any way, shape or form....that could possibly give him some satisfaction if he were that nasty, which he isn't, so that's a moot point.

I've completely lost track of where I was going.

*scans map to jog memory*

Ah, yes, there it is.....Matt found someone else...he left.

My thoughts are.....Paula keeps the TV, and Matt should be grateful that she doesn't smack him over the head with it.

What do you think? I'm being unreasonable yeah?
Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Blog Pimping

A very dear friend of mine has joined Blogspot. I had spoken to her a couple of months ago about writing a blog...she has so many great stories to tell. Last night Walker spoke to her on msn about writing blogs and whatever else (I wasn't there, this is all heresay via an email from her to me lol), and hey presto...her blog has been launched. He's a very persuasive man our Walker....or maybe we're just too shit scared not to do as he says? Just kidding dear, you know we all love you *mwah*

Anyway...we all know what it's like when we first start off our blog journals....some of the best stuff is written when we first hit these screens. Unfortunately, not too many people swing by to see us in our early days.

So, I'm doing a blog-friend-pimp thing this morning and giving a quick introduction of sorts for her. I could talk for a ages about all matter of things about this woman, but I won't....I'll allow her to blog it eventually if she wants to.....in other words, she can tell you herself. She's an avid photographer and takes some beautiful pictures, so expect to enjoy those at some stage too. (Incidentally, the first picture below of my quilt was taken with her very first digital camera...don't hold that against her, it was me that took the pic lol. You wanna see her latest camera, it's a mean ass machine!)

I know I've been asking a bit of you lately, but please, would you be so kind to extend the generosity? Head over to Echoes of My Past and drop a comment to welcome my friend to Blogland.

Right, better go, things to do before I run out the door to work. Will get around to read and comment on you all after work tonight.

Have a great day!

PS. Lisa! Received your postcard today, thanks! All the way from Kansas City, I love it!
Tuesday, July 26, 2005

The Quilt's Debut Appearance

"Lisa's Quilt Post Series, Take 3" *CLAP!*

"Action!"


After much thought, I decided to make this quilt to depict my children's background. Their heritage.

The top part of it emcompasses the Irish side...this is their Dad. It was also more personal to those they know on their father's side of the family and those that have passed onto the other side. I actually wonder whether the top half became more prominent in a personal sense, because their Dad and I are now divorced, and I spent more time thinking about showing them that we were still friends, and that side of their background was still important to me.

The quilt is upside down in this picture, so you can see the irish part of it at the bottom of the photo. This is the top sheet only, taken when it was still on the sheet on my floor. Each 9 inch block is made up of a piece of material that means something to them. There are clouds to represent their grandmother and the heaven she now resides in. Butterflies representing their aunt and her free spirit (also passed on). Bumble bees represent their grandfather who used to keep beehives in the backyard and furnish his neighbours and friends with an endless supply of honey (not to mention the honey mead..phew! that's some mean shit.) When I asked the boys what reminded them of their granddad, they both chorused "Lollies!". Each time they visited him and still to this day, he has a large container of sweets beside his chair that he offers his grandchildren. So there is also a certain amount of lolly patterned material in the top half (in 3 inch squares).

There is also a block of material with vegetables printed on it...their grandfather always maintained a huge vegetable garden. (Wow, I didn't realise just how much of their grandfather was in this until now. I suppose taking into consideration he's the oldest living member of those represented in the quilt, it's not a bad thing....he'll be 86 this year.) There are two 9 inch blocks of irish green tie-dyed cloth, top left and top right...I am planning to handstitch a celtic cross on one...a four leaf clover on the other.

The bottom half of the quilt represents my side of the family. The polynesian half in particular. Blocks of material in this half show the beautiful hibiscus flowers the pacific islands are proud of...colourful tropical fish, coral reefs and turtles....deck chairs, sandy beaches and sunshine. All the little squares of material that break up the big blocks are patterned with tiny english flowers (my mum) and various other patterns that are appropriate for whichever part of the quilt they've been sewn into.

Several 3 inch squares form a burgundy diamond shape in the centre. In the middle of this diamond are a few things representing New Zealand. There are kiwi birds, native New Zealand flowers, native ferns, and some colourful cartoon pictures of computers with smiley faces (had to put that in, it's one of their favourite past times). Can you believe i couldn't find any material with sheep on it until AFTER I'd sewn all the pieces together!?? Typical. This photo was the one I took the other day, spread out on my bed. The white you can see at the head of the bed, is the inner batting.

On each of the four sides, there are two zodiac signs. Eight on the quilt in total. They are the zodiac signs of each of my sons (Virgo and Aries), one each for their parents (Cancer and Pisces) and one each for both sets of grandparents (Sagittariaus, Pisces again, Leo and Gemini).

The back sheet is made up of three large blocks of fabric. Ireland, New Zealand, Polynesian respectively. (Incidentally, the polynesian fabric at the bottom on the backsheet is the material I refer to below with regards to 15.) I wanted this Quilt to show bright happy colours. I wanted it to be fun and colourful, which is why I chose to use so many 9 inch blocks that have comical prints in them as opposed to the traditional pictures. I wanted it to have a feeling of warmth when others looked at it, yet have meaning.

Back when I was still sewing:

15: "That's so cool Mum, can you make another one the same so I can have one of my own?"
Me: "Eh?? I haven't even finished this one yet and you want me to start another??"
15: Well, ok. How about if we take turns with it on our beds then?
Me: "That, I can live with at the moment."

Interesting that this came from the child that hadn't shown much of an interest in it. There was also one particular pattern of material that he really liked. It was a print of hibiscus flowers and ferns mixed together....in beautiful greens and bluey greens etc. He mentioned he'd like a shirt made out of it. Should I ever get around to making one for them both, I'll be sure to include that print in 15's. I never made a shirt for him...as far as I'm concerned it was rather bright...although, he'd never have been lost in a crowd when wearing it.

Writing these posts and the comments from you have made me restless about the Quilt's existence. I'm getting an itchy 'pedal' foot and the feeling of something stirring in the back of my mind. A feeling that is pushing it's way forward.

I'm going to have to finish this Quilt...and I'm going to have to do it soon. The prospect of that has me feeling rather excited now. Let's face it...we can all do with some extra excitement in our day...even if it's to do with sewing a quilt and not what can be going on under it.

"Cut! That's a wrap people. Great stuff."
Monday, July 25, 2005

The Return of the Quilt

After doing all the measuring and cutting and placing on the floor, jigsaw puzzle fashion, as mentioned in Friday's Quilt post....I eventually plucked up the courage to dust off the sewing machine. The fact that I actually have a sewing machine could fool you into thinking that I have sewn previously and that there's a strong possibly I know how to use it efficiently. Not so.

The sewing machine I have, was passed onto me via my older sister, who won a magazine competition and received a $4,000 sewing machine as her prize (along with classes showing her how to use it). $4,000!?? The car I was driving at the time wasn't worth that much!

After a lot of swearing, numerous false starts and a shitload of wasted cotton, I finally got the tension right and away we went. I was ecstatic! I was actually sewing...with cloth and cotton, needles and pins...like a real sewer! I matched a zillion 3 inch squares together...sewed... .pressed .... matched....sewed....pressed....matched...and so on....and so on.

Unfortunately, during the quilting frenzy, I still had other obligations to perform. One of which was to continue playing softball. I solved that time-consuming problem by injuring my left knee during a game while playing 3rd baseman. This allowed me to spend more time at home. For the first 6 weeks I sat with my leg elevated (this proved to be a STUPID idea, which I found out when I commenced physio). The hospital had refused to give me crutches because they insisted I rest. They felt if crutches were present, I would be dragging myself around...in other words, not resting. That sucked big time.

Did you know that if you unscrew the broomstick off the brush, it provides a makeshift crutch of sorts? It was also handy to threaten the children with if they took advantage of my prone condition. Then I discovered I could keep my left leg elevated, whilst pushing the sewing machine pedal with my right foot. Was a slightly odd position but quilt-mania was not to be interrupted.

As time went on, the squares were sewn altogether creating one large top sheet and I was able to get my lounge floor back. We had been walking carefully around the sheet on the floor for several weeks...chasing the cat away etc. One night when my tenant came upstairs to give me the rent money, without looking, he walked straight over the top of it, WITH SHOES ON!...the children and I sang a loud chorus of "NOOOOOOO!". (He never did step foot in the door again after that night, always gave me the money from outside the front door.)

The inner batting was purchased...as was the material for the back sheet. The entire three layers were pinned together with over 150 small stainless steel safety pins. I was then subjected to wrestling with the bulk of this while feeding it through the sewing machine. I won't bother going into detail about how often I got stabbed with stray pins. Pins are sons of bitches.

Now for the anti-climax of this story.....the Quilt is unfinished....(Aaaawww). It is usually kept in a large plastic rectangle container under my bed. Currently it is spread out on top of my bed....where it's supposed to be...but still unfinished (Booooooo). Last week, I pulled it out of it's box and lay it across my bed to take some photos of it for you. Due to my laziness and moreso because of the cold weather....it's still there. Can I just say how warm and cosy it is?...how squishy and comfortable it is?....and how despite all the safety pins still being in it, it's doing a mighty splendid job of impersonating a REAL quilt??

After dealing with the disappointment of reading that, here's more...no photo today (I know you're not stupid people, so I figure you've already noticed that). If I get the chance, tomorrow I will post a picture of the unfinished product and tell you what the different parts of it mean.

Yeah I know, I'm a louse.
Sunday, July 24, 2005

Thanks Guys

Thank you so much to all that voted for Jessica. The voting line has closed now, and we won't find out until next Saturday whether she got through this heat or not. I'll let you know next weekend.

I emailed the link of the below post to Jess, so she could see what I'd written about her. She commented. In case you missed her comment, here it is:


"Thank you so much Sara for putting me on here,If you were here right now i'd give you the biggest hug. What you said about me was lovely. To those who have voted for me Thank You all very very very much. It feels amazing to think that people are willing to support me on my journey without even knowing me, and i appreciate that.Thank you
Jess Wiel 07.24.05 - 12:00 pm "


Thanks again everyone. You guys are the best! *mwah!*

Saturday, July 23, 2005

A Vote for Destiny

This morning I sat down to watch telly as I ate my breakfast...french toast - I needed it after my conversation with Walker on the phone...hubba hubba. I rang him earlier but, alas, he was not home...thus I left a rather breathy message on his answering machine. Then I texted him and asked him to let me know when he put foot in the door. Apparently receiving a text at that time of the day from me, can mean only one thing...and from what I can gather, he basically moved heaven and earth to get home in a hurry. He rang me. Ah, life is good.

Anyway, I digress....that's not what I wanted to tell you today...that was just to help you focus on my font and get your attention lol.

My good friend Janet texted me last night to remind me that her daughter Jessica was to be on a tv show this morning. Course, I had to tune in. I try not to miss any type of performance by this talented young teenager. I will admit to sleeping through her singing at 7am to the breakfast crowd during the "Relay for Life" walk in Wellington a few months ago. Unfortunately, that was due to the late night prior to it and the amount of bourbon I'd consumed.

Jessica is 16 years old and for the past 6 years or so, I've seen her perform in productions and sing on stage with amazing talent. I first laid eyes on Jess when she was Cinderella in the primary school production years ago. From that moment on, it was obvious to me she was born to be on stage.

The first time I saw her on stage at the college, I had trouble hearing her because Janet (mum) was sobbing so loudly to the point of hiccuping, beside me. I've watched her play softball, I've even stood in the pouring rain with a 'blind' date to watch her play netball...we had met the first time over coffee and I insisted I would only meet up with him, if he ensured I was at the netball courts in time to watch her play. He insisted on getting out of the car and standing in the rain with me to watch.

Not only is Jess a talented performer on stage and a skilled sportsperson on the field and court, she's also an A grade student. She knows what she wants and she's doing her best to make it happen. Not only is she putting in the hard yards to get there, she's doing it with the utmost grace and respect to those around her.

I watched her singing on tv today (after winning the national heat in Wellington to get there) with tears in my eyes. After winning that first heat, the first thing she said on camera was "Excuse me for a moment please, I just want to give my mum a hug"....she made them wait while she grabbed Janet and hugged her....more tears from me. She then got to fly down south and make a video clip...it was AWESOME!! I'm so proud of her. What she's achieved has all been due to hard work and it's paying off.

Now for audience participation....this is where you lot can help Jessica. The tv show "Wannabes" has a voting website. The vote line closes at 5pm Sunday (that's MY Sunday, not yours) and I'm asking you to help her out by voting. Please...if you would be so kind, go here, click on Jessica Weil's photo and enter your name and email address, then click on "Vote". You can vote up to 5 times from one email address...and suffice it to say, I have just voted under 5 different names, including my ex-husband's and the cat's (I knew they'd be useful for something!).

Please vote, I know each and every vote she gets will be extremely appreciated by her. Let's do our part in helping this gifted young lady reach one of the goals she's destined for.

Fate waits for no-one...let's help make it happen. Thank you.
Friday, July 22, 2005

The Quilt

I've a good friend who makes quilts. She doesn't just make the occasional quilt...she makes lots of them...sometimes having 2 or 3 quilts on the go at one time. A few years ago I visited this friend and once again became in awe of the beautiful quilts she'd made....in awe of her patience...and in awe of the time and energy she put into said quilts.

So...due to me sometimes having stupid ideas, and with my superior knowledge of quilt making (translated = screwed in the head)...coupled with my know-it-all attitude, I embarked on a journey I've never made before.

Her: "Maybe you should try something small to begin with?"
Me: "Nah, if I'm going to do this, I want to make something substantial, something that MEANS something"
Her: "A cushion cover perhaps?"
Me: "Pah, cushion covers are for nancies."
Her: "Well, um, ok...Did you have anything in particular in mind?"
Me: "You know...just something that's piss-easy to put together, but big."
Her: "How about a lovely wall hanging? That's not too small and yet it's not too big to start off with for your first patchwork project"
Me: *not listening* "I know! I'll make a queen size bed cover!"
Her: "Uh..."
Me: *clapping hands together* "Excellent! Decision made! I can't be bothered namby pambying around with stinky cushion covers...the bed cover sounds like the plan."
Her: "Are you sure? It's awfully big for your first go at it"
Me: *still not listening* "So, you just chuck together an easy enough pattern...something you think I can handle and I'll warm up the sewing machine"
Her: *sigh* "Look, there's more to it than that."

And indeed there was. We had to find a pattern...then we had to map it out on grid paper...then I had to get material pieces that I liked. Getting the material wasn't that difficult. Sewing shops have all manner of printed cotton that patchworkers use. They're called 'fat quarters' apparently. 'Quarter' being that it's a quarter of a metre I think....'fat' being..dunno...possibly the fat-head person who's decided to take on a project of this size for their first expedition into the quilting arena.

We chose to go with the Double Irish Chain pattern...this meant no triangular bits of material...all squares..two different sizes...3 inch and 9 inch...ok...squares are good, I can cope with that. As the days went by, the more I thought about what I wanted, the more I gave myself headaches. Ideas shaped themselves in my head as to what I wanted this quilt to be. Why did it have to mean something? Why couldn't I just throw together bits of material, sew it up and "Hey Presto!..Behold!...A Quilt Is Born!"? But no, if I was going to jump in feet first and do this, I wanted to do it properly, and I wanted to be happy with the result.

After cutting out the required pieces in the right size...I lay down a sheet in the middle of the lounge floor....then lay the cloth pieces down where I thought they would look best on top of it. It was like a big jigsaw puzzle (only with square pieces). For a couple of weeks I stalked around that sheet....moving pieces to different places....taking some out, replacing them with others I liked better. I believe, the length of time it took me before I actually starting sewing anything, was due to my past experience with a sewing machine. I didn't want to spend my nights unpicking my wonky attempts. Therefore I reasoned, the longer I left it before I started sewing, the longer it would be before I was squinting well into the night unpicking it.

I asked various questions of the children. What they liked...what would spring to mind when they thought of their grandparents?....what colours did they think went best and where?. Did they like 'this'? and did they like 'that'? 14 was only 9 at the time and he was fascinated with the quilt. He would spend hours sitting on the floor, to the side of it, staring...sometimes moving to sit on the other side of it for a different view....then come to me later and offer a suggestion. 15 took it with a grain of salt and the attitude of "Another one of mum's things she'll likely regret later"...although it didn't stop him putting in his two cents worth.

I finally started sewing....and as I began, quilt-excitement took over our household. The quilt became the focus of our existence. We lived for the quilt. We dreamed in quilt-technicolour...we slept, ate and breathed the quilt! We were at one...with...the...QUILT!

To be continued....
Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Anyone for Beer?

This morning I've been messing around on here trying to figure out how to bring you a funny video clip I saw the other week. Unfortunately, after a lot of swearing and blood pressure elevation, I can't show you the one I wanted to.

However, I did manage to do some embedding and uploading and console measuring etc. After several false starts of "Your HTML code cannot be blah de blah-ed, because of blah de blah" whilst trying to publish the post, below is the result. Hope you're able to view it.

(I've removed this video clip now because I think it was causing an error on my page, not to mention making it slow right down in loading. I don't think anyone's going to notice it missing now. I suspect all those that wanted to see it already have)

With some of the temperatures I've been reading about on other people's blogs lately, I can imagine that seeing this young man with his beer stand in the middle of the street could be a welcome sight. Maybe not so much his attitude.

If anyone out there can enlighten me to an easier way of placing a windows media video clip onto their blog, I would be eternally grateful, and so would my remaining brain cells.
Monday, July 18, 2005

Sharing the Love

I heard a song on the radio on my way home from work today which gave me a thought as to my post for the day. I'm hoping the song has loaded enough for you to hear it before the end of my post lol.

As some of you may know, when I was away visiting Walker last October, I had a small butt problem (this post was written back when I was referring to Walker as "Canada"). In physical size it was very small....in pain terms it was huge. I have a low pain threshold. This makes me a big baby when it comes to any kind of pain that's happening to my physical being.

You can imagine my utter despair at having to deal with such an event while I was on holiday and meeting up with the love of my life for the first time. How unfair is this? How could this possibly be happening to me? Did I do something in a past life to deserve this??!

In true superhero fashion, Walker looked after me, showering me with lots of tender loving care. He cooked, cleaned, made up bottles of saline for my use, walked slowly beside me (so I wouldn't be hobbling down the street 10 feet behind him), obtained a donut cushion yadda yadda yadda. I couldn't have been more grateful that it happened while I was with him in particular. I can't imagine anyone else going to the lengths he did to make me comfortable. The man stepped up to the plate, smacked the ball out of the park and gained himself a grand slam auto in my scorebook.

On arrival home in Ottawa and realising the pain wasn't getting any better, we trucked off one afternoon to see Walker's doctor. Course, he's going to have to get up close and personal and have a look-see at my arse. Oh yay, life just can't get any further down the gutter drainpipe of embarrassment for me right? Wrong.

I feel there is only so much our loved ones can be subjected to in such instances. For a man who's made it more than obvious that he loves my arse, I couldn't have Walker observing minor surgery performed upon it. Imagine the expression of horror or anger on his face as the doctor approached my said body part with a scalpel?? (I didn't even want to think what his reaction would be if the doc got anywhere near my boobs.) So, to avoid him having nightmarish flashbacks about it, and to escape the possibility of the doctor being harmed due to him having a knife in his hand and nearing my nether regions...it was best to have Walker vacate the room. "Ok babe, you can leave the room now", he departed.

Just prior to this visit, my um honeypot (for want of a better word) had been getting a little twitchy also. So as I'm laying there on the bed in a rather compromising position, I say to the doc, "Um, I'm wondering if I have a yeast infection too, things are feeling pretty odd there". (This was during the cutting and pushing and me groaning loud enough to be heard through the rest of the surgery...told ya I was a sook.) Once he's finished messing with my backside, he takes a quick shufti at my frontside.

Yep, it's confirmed. I had a yeast infection...just to make everything down there really nasty *sigh*. While I'm struggling back into my knickers, the doc's telling me he'll give me some cream to insert to help with the infection. I'm to insert this stuff each day for 10 days.

Me: "10 DAYS! I only have 10 days left before I fly home to New Zealand!" Fuck me (or don't, unless you want to catch something).
Doc: "Well you're going to need to use it to kill the bacteria of the infection."
Me: "Does that mean sex is out of the question?"
Doc: "Well..."
Me: "What about Walker? Can I pass it on to him?"
Doc: "Just get him to use some of the cream, he should be fine"

It wasn't the most ideal situation, but can I just say, it's amazing how innovative one can get when one really has to have oneself some booty? We were careful in most ways possible, but obviously not careful enough in every way possible.

A few days later Walker's telling me he needs to ring the doc and get some cream specially for him. His poor love muscle's going rather red and feeling on the tender side. Oh dear...my poor baby....not to mention how Walker must've been feeling (hahaha...get it? oh never mind).

And there we have the reasoning behind me posting this particular song as my background music today (Catch My Disease by Ben Lee). Phew, knew I'd get to the point eventually...it might have taken me a lot of beating around the bush to get there, but...there..I...did...get.

Funny thing is (and possibly a stupid thought)...I'd love nothing more than to have the opportunity to pass on any manner of things to Walker right now.

Something to look forward to sharing again in the future I guess eh?
Sunday, July 17, 2005

The Craft Fair and a bad photo

Went to a craft fair with Alice today. Was hoping to show you some of the extraordinary things I saw today, some VERY cool fishy stuff. Well, I mean, they were ornaments that you could hang on the wall. Made of copper. Like big flat copper fish, huge copper/stainless steel stingrays and sharks. Priced at around $6,000 for the big stuff (holy cow).

There was one chap that had a company called Fork-Art....all his work had forks in different shapes and forms through it. I was paticularly taken with the metal 'nets' that were heated to look like hanging fishnets, and then the forks were bent appropriately and dispersed through the 'net' in various places to look like fish caught in the net.

I took a photo, but unfortunately, it is sooo out of focus I don't know why I bother to take any bloody pictures at all! But, I'm going to subject you to it anyway, so you can get some idea of what I'm harp(oon)ing on about here *groan*

fishnet

There was also a painter (Rick Edmonds) I was very impressed with. I loved his pictures. All his paintings are scenes from around where he lives (top of the south island). He's close to where my parents live. In fact, he lives on the very drive I got myself lost on (with the kids), on Christmas Eve. His paintings are almost like photographs. I think he's extremely talented and I told him so.

I've posted one of my favourites from his collection online. Unfortunately, I can't afford to acquire any of these paintings, they're out of my price range, but that won't stop me from admiring them online.

Edmonds55

Take a look here at some of the other beautiful scenery Rick Edmonds has painted of the Malborough Sounds in New Zealand.

Now for the slightly rude part of today's post (well, it's all good to include a bit of rudie in here somewhere right?). I took the test that Walker's posted about today (via Michael's site) and it came out that I was 75% attracted to boobs. Yep, that's right ladies, your cleavage is not safe with me nearby. I'm glad I've got a pair of my own, cos with a percentage like that, I can spend all day playing with them if I like. Woo hoo!

Hope you're all having a great weekend!
Saturday, July 16, 2005

Grumpy

Ok, I'm annoyed. I've been going around reading your blogs and I can't comment on most of them, because for some reason Haloscan has gone tits up tonight!

The other frustration, that happens to me quite often, is that I go to read your latest posts, but can still only see the one you did the day before. Pah.

Oh, I had a go at the slut test, and this is the result:

'Cupid

Hmm, I knew I wouldn't rate too highly, cos I'm such an innocent most of the time (I AM TOO!), but I can live with 57%. It gives the impression I'm somewhat of a wicked angel. I like that.

When and if Haloscan gets it's act together...you can be sure to hear from me over your way.
Friday, July 15, 2005

To clean or not to clean...

I know I've said I've tried to bring my boys up so that they're self-sufficient, but the truth of the matter is, ever since my husband and I split, I kinda took over in the household department. Which means, they've basically not done anything since. They don't make their beds every day, they don't clean their rooms, in fact, I'd be stunned speechless if they actually put their laundry into the basket supplied in their bedrooms.

When my ex left, the boys were 9 and 8 years old. As far as I'm concerned, that's on the borderline of becoming household helpers. They were helping in the kitchen, keeping their rooms tidy and occasionally doing vacuuming and setting the table for dinner etc.

Now, here we are, almost 7 years down the track, and what I started to do all those years ago, has almost disappeared into the ether. In fact, I'll even go as far as saying, I'VE changing my household cleaning habits since then too. So much so, that these days, I don't have any of those kinds of habits at all. And don't even ask me about cooking dinner every night. Let me just say, the boys have become almost proficient in the kitchen...purely out of necessity.

Occasionally, I'll feel negligent and cook a hearty meal...protein, carbs, veges wtih lots of iron etc, the works...but most of the time, the kids are fending for themselves. As long as I make sure the pantry's full of things they're capable of throwing together, it's all good.

Then we have the whining "there's nothing to eat in the cupboards, you need to do something shopping". The problem I have here, is that there is plenty of food in the cupboards, but they have to do something with the food that's there, for it to become edible. This is not a good thing if they can't be bothered (they get that attitude from me). They would much rather reach into the pantry and pull out a complete steak meal, than worry about having to chuck a piece of meat in the frying pan.

14's got an insane thirst for mandarins at the moment. He's practically consumed more than 5 kilograms of this small orange fruit by himself over the course of the past 2-3 weeks (no, really, I'm not kidding). As long as there are chillibeans, corn chips, cheese and sourcream around, 15 will survive. Oh, and bacon...he loves to cook bacon. The mess he leaves behind can sometimes look like a giant tomato recently exploded in the kitchen, so we're currently working on the 'post-cooking operation' procedure.

14 has perfected the art of making scrambled eggs. I say "art" because that's how he feels about scrambled eggs. If he were able to, he'd survive forever on scrambled eggs and mandarins.

The other night as I was slamming things around in the kitchen and loading the dishwasher I started ranting at them about actually putting dishes in the washer, as opposed to leaving them all over the benchtop. "How hard is it to rinse the plate and place it in the dishwasher for crying out loud??"

After lunch with Annette yesterday, I came home, knocked on 15's door and said "You're cooking dinner tonight". I hopped in the shower, went to bed to snooze for an hour...came out, read blogs, spoke to Walker...and then 15's coming over to my computer corner of the lounge. "You better come and get some dinner before we eat it all". We had tacos...easy enough for him to put together, and yummy...the best bit being, I didn't have to do it.

This morning I decided it was time they pull out finger and did something around the house. This was easier to achieve than I realised.... but only because...

14: "I'm just going to vacuum my bedroom ok?"
Me: "Eh? How come?"
14: "Oh just because it's getting really dirty and messy in there"
(I'm surprised he can see the carpet to vacuum it, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?)
Me: "Are you expecting one of your friends to come and visit?"
14: *laughs* "No"
Me: "Oh ok, that's cool...you can bring the vacuum out here and do the lounge/dining area as well then."
14: "Oh...damn...yeah ok."

Walker is dubious about 14's motivation and wants to know if 14's done something recently to warrant the sudden activity. I'm just going to live in lala land and think that my son has become 'mess-aware' and decided to do something about it.

Inspired by 14, I strode down the hallway to knock on 15's bedroom door.

15: "Yeah?"
Me: "Get together your dirty laundry, it's time you put a load in the machine"
15: "Oh...yeah ok"

He came out, arms full of clothing, stood in the laundry and proceeded to turn everything inside out, shook all his socks 'out', loaded the machine, tipped in the laundry powder and hit the button. My God, I was watching a professional laundrymat employee!

I had to fight the urge to get out the camera and take a photo of each of them doing their respective spot of cleaning today.

Now if only I could get one or both of them to clean out the cat litter box. I'm pretty sure I'd be pushing my luck there.

All these years I've been doing these things (or not doing them), I had no idea that all I needed to do was TELL them and they'd do it. Sheesh....how dumb am I??!
Thursday, July 14, 2005

14 July 2005

These are two of the most recent photos I've got of my wee friend Jaimee. I took them a couple of weeks ago, while she was playing in the bath (Anna had invited me over for dinner, prior to the rugby). My attempts to get one of her smiling were fruitless...each time I thought I finally captured one, the image would show that I wasn't quick enough and I had a lovely picture of her back of the back of her head. Darn kids for having so much energy and moving faster than my digital camera can snap them lol

Jaimee is now 15 months old. She starting walking last month. She's still so little it's looks wrong to see her walking. She hasn't quite got the walking thing going properly...still doesn't bend her knees, so she's walking straight-legged, like a mummy.

Picture 060Picture 058

I've had a harrowing morning at work today...was abused a couple of times over the phone, and once in person. I had just enough time to get home, change and rush to meet Annette for a luncheon date we'd arranged a few weeks ago....neither of us were very enthusiastic about it, we were both so knackered after our shift...still, she's great company and I enjoyed the time I got to spend with her away from work.

I'm off to have an early shower, and climb into bed to read my book for a while. If I don't fall asleep until tomorrow, I shall be back this evening to catch up on your blogs and do some commenting. If I can't get there tonight, I will most certainly catch up on my blog reading tomorrow (Friday).

Below is something I have copied/stolen. I've seen it on several blogs recently. I'll leave it up to you as to whether or not you want to answer the questions. If you decide to answer, then you will give me some interesting reading on my own blog, to come back to lol

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When's the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

Hope you're all having a great week. Happy Bastille Day!
Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Postcard Love and Rainbows

Seeing as I don't have a scanner, I decided I would take a photo of the postcards I've received so far (hint hint, that's me hoping there's more to come lol). I did this in a hurry and unfortunately it's slightly out of focus, but those that sent these cards are going to recognise them. In no order whatsoever Peanut Queen (Florida), Butterfly (Ottawa), Samantha (Malaysia), Katya (while on holiday in Alaska), Fizzy (Leeds), RainyPete (Hamilton) and Denny (Texas).

Picture 067

I took the photo with the cards propped up on my unmade bed. The fact that my bed is unmade helped me prop them up on a lump in the centre, so don't be giving me any flack about it being unmade (be pleased I decided not to take my slippers off and include them in the picture too, I'm so grateful for them, they deserve to be on film more than once). The fact of the matter is....you should all be feeling pretty damn excited that you were spread out on my bed this morning!

If there are any more of you who would like to receive a postcard from New Zealand, it would be my pleasure to send more out. It won't cost you anything but a postcard back to me in return. Please email me and we can swap addresses and continue with the postcard loving!

Picture 069a

The above is me trying to share some of the rainbows that are scattered around my bedroom walls. The sun was in the right position in the sky to shine through one of the crystals hanging in my bedroom window. Just in case you're interested, that picture on the wall is a letter "R" (not sure you can see that due to the reflection on it)...my youngest son drew that (it's his first initial, can you guess what his name is?)...slightly off to the right is a couple of pics my godson made for me. And that white material below is part of my mosquito net draped and pinned to the wall. Just in case you were that interested!

This is what happens when I'm pushed for something to write about lol.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005

More on taps and slippers

Update on the bathroom: Ex came up the following day (wearing a back brace, he'd thrown his back out trying to fix it the day before...I'd forgotten how bad his back is...guess that's what happens when they're no longer living in the same space eh?....oops) with a pair of vice grips. The tap finally comes loose...washer's replaced...water turned back on....tap still drips...aaaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!

Apparently the seat of the tap is stuffed. He's going to come back with a reseating tool and fix that at some stage. Reseating the tap is cheaper than replacing both taps, so we'll try this for the time being. And now that I know the hot water tap is no longer leaking and running up my gas account, I can live with the drip of the cold water side of things.

I had actually snuffed the pilot light on the hot water cylinder on Saturday afternoon, so no hot water Sunday morning. I spent 20 minutes on the floor in the laundry, reading the instructions down the side of the cylinder to get the gas lit again. Finally get it going...ex turns up and tells me to turn off the toby. Right, done...about 5 minutes later I'm hearing some really weird noises coming out of the laundry. There's a fair bit of rattling and bubbling going on...."Hey!, come here...something's happening in the cylinder!"....we're both standing in the laundry, staring at the cylinder...."It's not going to blow up is it?!"......"Um, probably not"....Probably??? not good enough....I need to know for sure....so I snuff out the flame again...the rattling/bubbling stops.

You know what? I took so long to replace the washers in the bathroom because I expected it to be a piss-easy exercise. Pah.

Anywaaaay...below is a photo of the new slippers I bought this weekend. What's more, they're actually on my feet (yes I know you can see that). I realise, due to the fact that some of you are dealing with high temperatures at the moment, viewing this may just make you sweat more. But this is coming to you from New Zealand...it's winter here...and having slippers on my feet, are worth celebrating. Yay!

Picture 062

I know they're not sexy, but DAMN they're warm!
Monday, July 11, 2005

Hush Little Baby...

Such a busy shift today...as is any Monday. This is the day that every man and his dog needs to come to see our doctors, regardless of whether they belong to our surgery or not. Every morning pre-schoolers come in to have their meningiccocal vaccines, there is always extra noise. A mum brought in her wee 1 yr old boy to see the doc, she had two other young children with her....she was holding the baby and trying to read a story to the other two youngsters....the baby was gripey and basically crying the whole time in her ear. She ignored him and continued reading...funny how we tend to shut out noises like this when we're used to hearing them.

I couldn't stop myself any longer....I got up from behind the desk, went and basically severed the bubble of this family of four....and plucked that child right out of Mum's arms. He was beautiful...so tiny for 12 months old. Obviously I asked Mum if I could hold him...I didn't want her thinking I was grabbing and running off with him. I told her how much I loved little babies....held her son, cooed at him and walked him around for a little while....went down the back, showed him off to one of the nurses like a wee trophy..."Ha! Look what I've got!"

Double bonus.....he stopped crying the moment I picked him up (I suspect he just needed the movement) and I got to cuddle yet another baby...yay!) By the time I'd finished rocking him around and singing to him, Mum had finished the book she was reading to her daughters and the doctor was ready to see the baby. I had to give him back...boo.

Mothers with young children are part of my day at work all the time. I see them coming in, sometimes looking rather tired and harrassed, trying to keep their brood happy and under control. Sometimes failing. I often wonder how they do it...most of the time they seem calmly accepting that this is how things are for now. Then I remember....I was one of those Mums....my boys are only 19 months apart, so there was a time in my life when toddler behaviour ruled my household. I remember trying to take the two of them shopping with me...best of friends they were...so trying Mum's patience was pretty high on the list. Both competitive souls...I would play a game with them...."Quick! Come sit right here!" *pointing to a safe, out of the way, corner of the store*...."Let's play a game....the first person who makes a noise loses the game ok?". They'd both nod their heads, park themselves down, eyes sparkling mischeviously and be quiet and still...just long enough for me to finish my purchase.

This obviously can't be played too frequently....only for those particular days when you can't handle hearing any more noise, or it looks like other shoppers are getting flustered by little people rushing around getting in the way. The bottom line is, regardless of how much hard work it was...how dirty I got with sandpits, play dough, finger painting etc....I wouldn't trade those years in for anything.

As we're wiping the snot that's mixed with sand from their faces....as we're holding their hands under the tap, cleaning off the spaghetti they've squished between their fingers....and as we're holding them, both of us naked in the shower, washing all manner of caked food out of their hair and earholes....we're having the time of our lives. How can we not be? We scrulptured those little faces with a million tender kisses during those years....we're the first people to make them smile and laugh...the first people to hear their first words.

Yep, despite the sleepless nights, the energy draining from us and the fact that we had to keep going and going like the Energizer bunny....it's worth every stinky, soggy minute of it.

Love always is.
Saturday, July 09, 2005

Shit All

This morning I got out of bed full of motivation. The sun was the shining, birds singing, all that blah de blah, and I was feeling ready to go shopping. Not for anything of great magnitude, but shopping all the same.

I need to buy a couple of new washers for the bathroom taps. For weeks the faucet has been dripping. Both taps come out the same hole, in case you were wondering why I went from plural of taps to singular of faucet (although I do believe they're one and the same thing...maybe I shoulda said pipe or something, who the hell knows). Anyway, it wasn't just dripping, it was coming out in a small steady stream. In my non-plumbing wisdom, and due to the fact that it didn't matter which tap I tightened, it would disipate the steady flow a little. That to me meant both washers needed replacing.

I am still waiting for my sheepskin slippers...due to Alice travelling up and down the country, and nowhere near a shoe shop, not to mention, if she'd managed to buy them, nowhere she could give them to me. So, being that my feet and toes, no longer wanted to wait for the warmth, that was another item on the list.

I stopped at the hardware store, talked to the shop assistant like I knew what I was on about "I need two 15mm nylon washers" (apparently nylon last longer than the rubber ones). I arrived at the Mall....found some slippers I liked...they were on special...down from $99.00 to $49.95...bonus!

Got back home, put the slippers on....went into both the kids bedrooms and paraded my new slippers for them....as you do, when you have noone else to share your happy new purchase with. They were totally uninterested, although 14 did make the effort to say they looked just like the old ones I had years ago. (A reaction is better than no reaction.)

Right...onto the bathroom taps. I messed around with any dial or lever that was part of the hot water cylinder. I'm not sure this was even necessary, but Jason had told me I had to stop the hot water flow from the tank, so I was doing my best to stop it. I went to the bottom of the steps outside and twisted the toby until I couldn't twist it any further (I had 15 standing in the kitchen at this stage, with the tap on, so he could tell me if it stopped...hope you understand that, I'm too tired to go into any more detail and I doubt you want to read it right now.)

Back upstairs to the bathroom....I remove the tap covers....and wa la...the hole in the middle of the washers I'd bought looked far too small. Shit, I'm thinking, I bought the wrong size. Damn that Jason for misleading me. After 30 minutes of trying to work this out for myself, I concede and ring Jason. Anna and him were out shopping with Jaimee. Must be the morning for it. Jason says they're on their way home, so he'll call in and have a look-see. Cool. They all turn up, and this is when I find out what a dufus I am, because I have to remove more of the tap stuff to get further into the dungeon of taptrometry to where the washer goes. Jason, being the lovely man-helper that he is, asked me if I had a pair of multi-grips...nope, I didn't....so I rush off back to the hardware store and buy a pair...come back and hand them over.

That's when all the non-fun of this do-it-yourself event started. All he had to do was position the claws of the multi-grips around the barrel and turn it anti-clockwise, once the barrel comes out, the washer goes in...put it all back together again, and bingo, no more leaking. Sounds simple right? Wrong. That barrel did not want to be removed from it's surroundings. They had been a couple for so many years now, they didn't want to be parted. Aww, how sweet. Not for Jason it wasn't. He spent a good 40 minutes trying to loosen it...I was standing there watching him throw all his weight behind it...I felt helpless. If he wasn't able to shift it, how the hell was I going to be able to?

It took 50 minutes to remove it...the washer was replaced. Yay..one down, one to go. The second one wasn't going to give in as 'easily'. It refused to budge in any shape or form. Jason was fast losing patience and energy. For the sake of my friendship with him, I eventually rang my ex..his Dad had been a plumber for years before his retirement, and my ex had put the taps in, so I figure, maybe there's something we're not aware of, that he would know. He has a chuckle that Jason can't get the tap out...."I'll come over and take a look". 10 minutes later ex is walking up the driveway, passing Jason as he's walking down the driveway.

Jason: "It's all yours mate...she's a bastard, I can tell you that" (why does it have to be a 'she' when it's being stubborn?)
Ex: "No problem. You do know you have to turn it anti-clockwise to remove it eh?"
Jason: "Of course." *mutter mutter*

40 minutes later, ex comes out of the bathroom, moving his torso around, trying to manipulate his back (this is after I've stood by and watched him grunting and groaning, trying to remove rebelious tap) "I'll just go to a mate's and get one of his tools to do the job".

90 minutes later, I go out to the supermarket to get some food for dinner.

60 minutes after that I send a text message "Are you coming back?"

"No, I'll come over tomorrow with some vice grips"

He obviously didn't think I needed to know that. Never mind that the water had been off on the entire property for 6 hours by then. Sheesh. I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom. Put the 'working' tap head back together, switched the water back on...and now I'm sitting here blogging about shit all. Suck it up..it's the only thing I've got to offer today lol
Friday, July 08, 2005

Doing the Math

I went to pick 15 up after school today. He didn't even see the car...walked straight past me. I was messing around in the glove box (as you do when you're bored and waiting....maybe there was something to eat in there? worth a look right?), so I almost missed seeing him as well.

I figured with the weather being a bit on the naff side, I'd pick him up and take him downtown for the much needed haircut he's been asking for. Did this happen? Nope. My son, plus 3 of his mates piled into the car and all came home with me. How does this happen? Am I that much of a walkover? Do I have "soft-touch" written across my forehead??

I stopped at the store to pick up some diet coke...it's Friday night and I now have 5 teenage males in the house...the least I can do is dull the senses with some bourbon and coke. I must've been in the store all of 2 minutes. As I walked across the road, back to the car, I noticed they'd all been talking so much, the car windows were fogged up. I hate foggy car windows when I'm driving...it's a pet peeve...it makes me nervous about blind spots etc...has something to do with self-preservation I believe.

I open the driver's door and park my butt in the seat....it hits me. That smell...you know? THAT smell?? Four teenage male life-forms in close proximity, in a very small contained area, no windows open. I CAN'T BREATHE! I CAN'T BREATHE! Needless to say, I drove most of the way home breathing through my mouth with the window down.

While they're getting themselves set up for more Dungeons and Dragons stuff that I have no idea about, 15 starts rattling off how he's planning to spend his tax rebate (he gets money back because he's under 16).

He's telling his mates:

Him: "They've only refunded for one year, so there's more to come yet. I'm going to buy a PSP."

Me: "What's the point in buying a PSP when you already have a DS? I thought you wanted to upgrade the RAM in your computer? I would think the RAM was a priority over something you've basically already got the equivalent to."

Him: "See guys? That's my Mum. She thinks she knows what she's talking about. You need to respect her for talking the talk, walking the walk."

He swaggered toward me "Now give's a kiss Mama G"

"Sure...tongue?"

The look of horror on their faces and how quickly the smirk was wiped off my son's face, was worth it! HA!

One up for me.

It's all about numbers people, and I do believe I'm still winning...so far.
Thursday, July 07, 2005

Today I'm Blogging For Me

One of the main reasons my marriage finally broke down was due to sex. Well, arguing about it actually. My ex-husband was forever complaining about our sex life. We didn't do it enough for him. He would continue to throw "We used to do it 3 times a day when we first got together". Of course we did...don't all new couples? Isn't that called the honeymoon stage where neither of you can get enough of each other? Can't keep your hands off each other? After yet another complaint from him, I recall yelling back "Why don't you go out and just fuck yourself stupid and then come home, because I've had a gutsful of this shit!". At that point, I really didn't care if he was unfaithful to me. I wanted the complains to stop.

My ex husband was a fairly heavy beer drinker. To this day I still can't stand the smell of beer on the breath of a man that I'm in bed with. I can't bring myself to easily kiss him when I smell it. It turns my stomach and brings back memories of unhappy times for me. Obviously you only get to read my side of the story, so I can't talk on his behalf, but this is my blog, and I'll write as I perceived the situation to be at that time. Because of his complaints about the lack of sex, I made a pact with myself to do the deed every second night to keep the peace. It got to the point where I was thinking "Ok, I'm alright tonight, because I did it last night" How fucked up is that?

Then the complaints about the 'quality' of it started. So I'd step that up a notch. Hearing him whistling in the shower in the morning was enough to make me sigh with relief. If he was happy, the rest of the house was at ease. He never took into consideration that we had two small children that I was still constantly getting up to during the night...or that our two little spitfires had drained me of most of my energy during the day. All I wanted to do was sleep. I used to cringe about telling him that my time of the month was due. That would either result in an angry outburst or he'd sulk and barely speak to me for the days sex was 'off limits'. Although the tension would cause it's own amount of stress, it was a welcome excuse to get out of what had become just another chore for me.

One Xmas, we packed the boys up and headed north with 4 other families to stay for a week in a motel on the coast. Beaches close by, nights filled with card games and alcohol, days filled with sun, surf and barbeques. That part of it was lovely. One night, the boys were well and truly asleep, we had the other 4 couples in our motel unit to play cards and drink. I wasn't drinking much at all during those years. I had discovered that alcohol doesn't mix well with having young children, and the following day was too much effort to get through if I'd got trashed the night before.

Anyway, 5am rolls around, people finally leave to take to their own beds. There are beer cans and bottles all over the lounge, my husband was pretty much off his face and he staggered off to bed. I was left to rearrange the furniture and clear up the mess. 30 minutes later I had cleaned up what I could and climbed into bed myself, ready to fall asleep immediately, I was stuffed. Unfortunately, my husband appeared to 'find' his second wind, and wasn't ready for sleep yet. He wanted sex. In fact, he hadn't been to sleep...he had lay awake waiting for me. He had stayed awake listening to me crash around with furniture and rubbish and waitied. You can imagine how fucked off I was when I realised that.

He wanted sex, I didn't. Apart from the fact that I was beat, the motel walls were mighty thin, and a couple we knew well were staying in the unit next door. Their bed was head to head with ours, only a thin wall separated us. After some debate and seeing how pointless it was to argue, I lay there and let him have what he wanted. Afterwards I felt used and dirty, I felt taken advantage of. Yet it was my own doing, I had the choice, and I let it happen. I never forgot it, and it came out during marriage guidance counselling several years later. Although I'd let it happen, I felt raped....and my resentment for him grew.

As the resentment continued to grow, my sex drive diminished even further. It was a vicious cycle really. I didn't want to make love with him, he would sulk, which made me distance myself from him, he would drink more, which in turn would make me want to be close to him even less. Yuk, yuk, yuk. When he complained about the extra weight I was carrying, it would only serve to make me feel less desirable and sink further into myself.

As the boys got older and more independent, I was less tired and became more responsive to him. By the time I was 33 and enjoying the added freedom of not having my children continuously tied to me, I became quite amorous...made the approaches myself even! This was good for him. He was more than happy to have a wife that was making the first move. In fact, as far as sex was concerned, the last 6 months of our marriage was pretty damn good.

I still felt under a lot of pressure to 'perform', but it was less of a hassle for me. I still liked my sleep, I still resented the fact that he did nothing around the home, although I was a working mother, and by that stage, if he actually tried to help out in any way with the children or the housework, I would mentally roll my eyes and think he was just trying to butter me up for sex later one. It was too little, too late for me....any 'kind' gesture he made was sex-related as far as I was concerned.

He was drunk again one night and I was trying to push him out of the car to join his mates at a local bar. I'd picked them up from the pub and they'd decided to move on to the next watering hole. The last thing I wanted to do was take him home and have a slobbering drunk mauling me. I encouraged him to join his friends. He said to me "You know....last night was so incredible...I just want to know why?".

I sat in the driver's seat dumbfounded. I couldn't get it right. I either didn't do it enough, or the quality wasn't good enough, so he complained. Now it seemed even when he was getting it every night and the content was up to scratch, he felt the need to question it. That was it for me. I'd finally come to the end of my tether. I replied "Well...I hope you realise you've just gone and fucked it up". That was the night my marriage ended. In retrospect, it likely ended for me in that motel room a few years prior.

I waited until he was sober that weekend, and then dropped the bombshell. He was shocked, didn't see it coming at all, yet I had been thinking about it for such a long time I felt I'd deceived him. We'd tried on several occasions to put the broken pieces back together, and I was done trying. There is one particular dark time in my relationship with him that I've never mentioned on here...it still upsets me greatly and reduces me to tears to think about it. I may blog about it when I feel ready to....if I ever feel ready to.

There is obviously a lot more to this story, and I feel bad for giving the impression that my ex husband is a bad person. He's not in most respects. For some reason, unknown to myself, I felt the need to write this today. When I think back over the years we spent together, and some of the very tough times we had as a couple, I wonder why the hell I spent 15 years with him. I only need to look at the faces of my children to know why I hung in there so long. I know I waited until they were old enough to hopefully understand that their parents just couldn't live together in the same house any more.

I don't know why I feel the need to purge some of this now, and there's a possibility that I may do more of it. It may not be such entertaining reading for you, but it could help some of the knots in my stomach unravel to get it out of my system, who knows.
Monday, July 04, 2005

Let's Talk

I've been thinking.

"WHOOOP WHOOOP!" (that's the alarm bells I know you've got going off in your head right now.)

Ok, where was I? oh yes....I've been thinking....yep, I've been wondering about a particular subject that has me a little stumped. I've chosen not to google this subject because I have nothing else to talk about today, so I'm going to blog about it instead, and you lot are going to comment about it. Do...You...Understand??! YOU are going to comment FURIOUSLY! (I am, if nothing else, a bitch that DEMANDS that you comment.) Love me, hate me...feel a whole lotta emotion or none at all.... but whatever you feel or don't feel, make sure you bloody comment.

Right, now onto the subject.

Let's talk orgasms. Let us not be afraid of this word...let's stand tall and speak about this without embarrassment....let us scream it out proudly to the world! (or neighbours even).

I'll go first.

*clears throat*

Years ago, I didn't know what an orgasm felt like. I'd heard plenty about it...faked it a kazillion times to please my husband...but not had one at that stage. In fact, I had come to the conclusion that I was never going to have one. Which is of course, not unusual. There are plenty of women out there enjoying healthy, fulfilling sex lives, without an orgasm. We know this to be fact.

Then, I had one...probably out of pure stubborness...but I had one all the same. I don't have it diarised, so I couldn't give you the exact date...but it happened...and the nerves in my body rejoiced and cried out "Hal..le..LU..jah!".... from the top of my head, all the way down to my toes! I found whatever it was inside me (not physically you smutt-heads) to relax enough.....grappled around in the bottom of my womanhood or wherever the hell it was....and found it. I was about 28 years of age and I was ecstatic (literally). Holy hell, the years I wasted!

(Yes... I'm starting to wonder where the hell I'm heading with this post too.)

Over the years, I've become more in tune with my body...it's likes and dislikes...what makes it flow like the river wild, and what makes it dry up akin to the Sahara.
I know when objects start to swim before my eyes and my body tries to make me relax myself involuntariy, that I'm about to have my form of an epileptic seizure. I know I'm pre-menstrual when my stomach starts knotting up and I start talking in loud sharp blasts to my children..."You....will....DO....what...I....said or I will....hunt....you.....down. And let's face it, I know where you live. So....you....will.....be....dead....meat! Yesiree, you will be...looking at me like THAT. I'm go' slap you upside the head!" (Who am I kidding? I never scared anyone, 'cept maybe my parents.)

I digress...the fact of the matter is, as I got older, I learnt more and more about myself, some of it good....some of it bad...and some of it just plain interesting! Being on my own for a long time, I've learnt a fair bit more about my body. I don't know if that was due to desperate need or downright determination, but I learnt it all the same. This part is very important, it's US as women, that need to learn about our bodies before we can let the menfolk know what we want or how we want it. If I don't achieve orgasm, I wouldn't lay the blame on my partner. Yes, they certainly have a part in it and the part they play can make a world of difference to us...but for me, if I don't get there, I feel I'm obviously just not in the right mood emotionally to let it happen. Something is making me hold back from liberating my body completely in this way. It can be any manner of things, and I could talk about that side of it until the cows come home, but I'm hoping you already understand what I mean by this.

Now to my question. I want to know about multiple-orgasms. Is it not enough that it took me that long to discover an orgasm in the single form, that now I need to find out how to make it happen in the multiple form??

Now, for a more personal side of me (just for a change *snort*)....I had 6 orgasms over the space of half an hour this weekend. This is a rather amazing fete for me....I've never had 6 like that before. Most times I have 3 with the occasional 4 thrown in for good measure...but never 6. So, are these multiples? This is a genuine question. And how come I don't know the answer to this question, when I'm 40 years old and expect that I should be knowing such things already??!

I'm not even going to bother getting into how these things feel...each one building from the last....etc. We're all so different....different things get us to those heights and we act in different ways when we get there right? And if what I'm experiencing is not multiples then I give up because quite frankly what I'm achieving now feels pretty damn GLORIOUS! But....I still want to know what constitutes a multiple to the rest of you.

What I should probably be concentrating on, is how to be silent during this event....I'm not quiet by any means (which is why it's a free for all when the boys are at their Dad's lol), but I am going to have to perfect the art of making no sound if I have a sleepover *cough*. I might not care too much what the neighbours think of me, but I do care about what my boys think. Unfortunately, they no longer sleep through anything short of a sonic boom.

I doubt it will be happening any time soon, but I am kinda worried about it.....to the point where I should start practising immediately. It's going to take that long to work out how to become mute. I have frightening visions of my mouth clamped shut, thus making my head explode or worse yet, snot shooting out from my nostrils. I know he'd be loving (hopefully) what we're doing and all that...but I'm sure he'd appreciate me more if I kept my nose mucous to myself.

Rightyho...you're up.
Saturday, July 02, 2005

The best laid plans an' all that...

Went out for dinner for a few friends last night. This was to 'celebrate' me turning 40 last week. To be quite honest, I would've been happy to scrap the whole thing about dinner this week...I mean, it was last week, been and gone. I wasn't really in the mood, I was tired and grumpy. I'm ready to acost the postman because he hasn't brought me my papers from the bank yet, so the whole IRD/bank loan thing has become a waiting game. I just want it to hurry up and get it over with.

Alice's birthday was 2 days after mine. I asked her the other night on MSN what she'd like for her birthday...and then told her what I wanted for mine. I want a pair of sheepskin 'ankle boot' slippers...my feet have been freezing the last few weeks. Warm woolly sheepskinned lined slippers sounded just the ticket. Alice asked for an egyptian ornament. Oh great..."Where the hell do I find one of them??...All you have to do is go to a shoe store". So, she tells me where to acquire such an ornament. I go check them out. I know some people really love that sort of thing...but from the choices I had, I really couldn't see the attraction myself. Ah well, each to their own. And considering that Alice had been up north all week, and driven 6 hours straight to get to the restaurant for dinner, I could forgive the fact that she had no foot warmers for me yet. (Try not to think of my resentment as as I sit here with my toes turning to ice.)

I messed around with the laptop and setup the webcam on it this morning. Below is a picture I took of myself whilst in the process of this 'messing'. As you can see, I'm on the phone. Furthermore, I'm on the phone to Walker. See how smiley I am when I'm listening to this man? Walker rang because he thought I'd still be in bed and that perhaps he'd get a little somethin' somethin' outta me. Well, that's not actually true...he rang because I hadn't rung him first. Last night before I went out, I told him I'd ring him when I woke in the morning and he could be assured, I was gonna be laying a bit of somethin' somethin' on him. Yesiree, I was ready to rock'n'roll...unfortunately, I had people expecting me for dinner. Blah.

Picture 2

Problem was, I woke quite early, did the calculations and thought he'd still be out of the house celebrating another friend's birthday. So, I got outta bed, got some washing started, left the house to buy some cigarettes, came home, had breakfast, and started installing the camera software on the laptop.

Anyway, enough blabbering about that...I gotta go....I've got some fast talking and heavy breathing to make up for. Ciao!