Let It Go.

The scan I had did not show anything untoward. My gall bladder and liver are nice and healthy. Good to know. So why am I wringing my hands, growling at the kids and chewing the f@#k out of the inside of my mouth?

I found a two inch long white and wiry hair standing to attention on top of my head on Thursday. I yoinked it. The Hippy Schmippy Book says grey hairs equal stress, a belief in pressure and strain. The thing is I need to stop believing this malarky. Now please.

An ex-employee with some hard core issues keyed our car last week and has been ringing at night and disturbing our sleep. When you have two small children and run a cafe trust me, sleep is vital.

The suicide of one of our customers also brought up past shite.

It's time to start looking for the gift in every negative situation, just because those who came or went before me believed in pressure and strain doesn't mean i have to. Ease please!

Two beautiful men died. I will create something worthwhile, something other than hot air and negativity. I'm going to sew all my fabrics collected on travels into a bed spread. Starting today.

Watching The Labyrinth, dancing to The Police with two little Leos and playing with Lego ain't no strain! This the best morning I've had in awhile. We're off to a local fete now. I hope you all have a special, beautiful weekend.

Smacking is just not my thing.

tiny weeny red spider mites, thanks squashbottomcat.

Today I had to get up and leave the house without eating or DRINKING COFFEE for the blasted abdominal scan. Friday is not a day my kids have kinder/childcare so it was off to St Vincent's Hospital on the tram we went.

In and out by 10.30 we decided to have morning tea at the museum and then a quick look about. For a city that claims to love its coffee something was surely amiss. The poo-water I was served up in the museum cafe had me in a foul mood. It was grey. How is that even possible? The milk was so freakin' hot it was about to form a skin.

We had an excellent time wandering the galleries and out around the old exhibition building. We stopped to watch some tiny spider mites crawling on a wall and then wandered up Gertrude St to get some more paper for our menus. I managed to blag a free spot at the hairdressers and while the boys made some modelling clay creatures I had my mop tamed into submission. My last hair cut was in May so things were getting rather crispy and shaggy.

When we were leaving the boys were given a lolly pop from the bowl on the counter and by the time we boarded the tram home they were in a full-blown sugar flip-out. I have never come so close to crying in public due to the the behaviour of my children, they were literally carrying on like a flock of galahs. I managed to play the pity-card on one but the other raised the bar to a whole new level of insolence, that of which I've only heard of in legend.

I counted to ten. I breathed. I called their father to arrange the swift bagging of favourite toys to spend a fortnight on the top of the wardrobe.

Then some 'kind-soul' behind us muttered, "That one needs a smack."

If I can only explain how furiously I was trying to control the urge NOT to smack my child. smacking would have been the easy way out and I'm no coward! After greasing off the offending c*$t, I calmly explained the family rules to my child in a quiet rhythmic tone. We have a few and I kept repeating them over and over until they were both sitting and listening like perfect angels.

So. YOU. Fucking twerp on the tram. Next time I'm in Centrelink and I hear, "Taighlahh, Tahhnee, Jeighdynn, stop friggin' fightin' or I'll belt yahs" I will be reminded of EXACTLY the kind of person you are. Good Luck with your 'gem' of a parenting technique.

Raw Like Sushi.

The first part of the week had me feeling like a plate of chopped liver. We kept ourselves busy on the weekend, a birthday party on Saturday and a BBQ in the park Sunday arvo.

Hanging with kinder buddies and their parentals, treasured customers and ex-staff/honorary family members was good for the soul. A pleasant ending to a pretty tough week. Oh and the wine helped.

One of those weeks where an old wound opens and you realize that the last time you sewed yourself up you left a few surgical instruments in there. So I'm working hard on my little mangled, angry heart. You see, it's a bit tender and it likes to think it's invincible and untouchable and that if I keep it in a box on 'the high shelf' it will just be fine, 'thank-you-very-much'

I think I'll stop that from now on. It's exhausting.

I picked my son up on Saturday and appear to have given myself a very slight hernia so I'm having a scan on friday to check it out. btw I looked hernia up in the 'Hippy Shmippy Health Manual of Causes' and it signifies 'strain and burden'. WOO. No surprises there.

I've graduated from chopped liver to sushi. I'm hoping for dark chocolate with a soft caramel centre by this time next week. We shall see...

Oh yessiree Ulterior Epicure!

A latte and a bowl of water for Juno...

We were sad to find out yesterday that one of our regular customers had taken his own life.

Is there something beautiful, talented, young gay men don't realize??

WHAT A F@#KING WASTE!

Warning: rant follows.

Next May will be the 10 year anniversary of my Best Friends hanging suicide.

2/5/99

The culmination of a long road of agony I won't ever understand, the ambulances, the stomach pumpings, the denial of family members, the psychological battles to convince someone that the world was actually made a better place the day they were born.

Not easy when their Father told them otherwise at every possible opportunity, called footy players 'Poofter' when they dropped the ball, thought REAL men had as many kids as possible, sat on their ass while their wife did everything, got pissed and took the shit out of people.

He tormented, abused, bashed and hated his own son and then most disgustingly, hypocritically of all, lay a gay pride flag across the coffin.

Oh and lest we forget, cremated someone who repeatedly stated that they wanted to be buried. Yes you shitty excuse! I hate you! I will dance naked in a field on the day you die.

Hey. I sound like an angry ant. So what? I dealt with that shit for years. I'm not over it and I don't even care. I stopped playing out alternate endings a long time ago. I dealt with the guilt and the why? why? why? When push came to shove I was relieved he was dead because it was sucking the marrow out of me. End rant.

So to all the family and friends who lost such a sweet, funny, gifted guy. I'm sorry. It's a shit ride, it will hurt like hell and it will make you stronger.

Costume Drama.

There are two kinds of people in this world.

1. The kind who go all out when it comes to costume parties of any kind

and

2. Those who chuck on any old thing and say, "Meh, that's good enough..."

My sister. Halloween 08. 

A girl who wakes up to find a horses head in her bed.

Let's just say in our family we go all out. Which are you?

Thank F@#k.

thanks amsterdamize

My faith restored.

The Libran scales balance.

Huzzah! Month of October we loved you.

October heralded a new routine that nurtures the family. More balance in the work rest and play ratios. It just feels right.

There were warm days and (thankfully) still enough rain to relieve the drought a little.

These are some things we did that I didn't get around to writing about.

Chilling in the Ceres play-ground...

 and stopping to smell the flowers.



After work drinks in a local bar.



Kite flying and sunsets in the local park.