Me-me-me time.

Bubble and Squeak make a town from Lego and found bits.

We ate way too much brie...

Bubble as wrestle-dude.

My blog has been a bit light on the word/pictures/posting of late.

It's hot. I'm tired. Melbourne is in the middle of a heat wave.

I've been spending time with the kids. They start school in five days and I have no idea what to put in their lunch boxes.

I've been trying to work out if I have time to blog anymore.

My 'thinking' has taken a toll on my body/mind. Insomnia, vitiligo, Grumpy-moo disease. I've been trying to put into some kind of semblance the attitudes/patterns I have and to get rid of those that do not serve me. Quite exhausting.

I've been pumping the herbs in to me. Getting counselling. Having acupuncture.

Look out world!

... sorry to lower the tone...

If I read one more article where child-less people are banging on about how selfish children and their parents are I am going to shit in a bag and send it to the editor.

Ms February.

Yesterday the only useful things I could do were to wash dishes, make tea and tidy.

My friend had returned from a painful journey to Africa to find her freezer door ajar, a putrid stench in the air, spoiled food and a maggot-ridden mouse in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Thanks Universe, for that nice little toxic red cherry on the cake...

Three of us sat in the lounge room after everyone had left and the kids were tucked up in bed.

My friend unpacked three suitcases of her Mother's personal effects. Photos. Legal documents. Clothing. Perfume. Jewellery. Her eye glasses, folded neatly in a hard case never to be worn again. 

Her mother had the page of a newspaper from 1963 tucked into her diary. It had a picture of a young woman holding a bouquet with the caption, 'Miss February' then, "BEAUTIFUL! MY GOD!" in Swahili. The woman in the picture was my friends mother, her whole life ahead of her.

Sisters, Arseholes and other Joys of Christmas.

One month of NO blogging. More focus on winding down. Closing the cafe. Quality time with the lovely Husband, Bubble and Squeak. Heck. They go to school this year!

Hanging down at the Northcote pools. Storming the parks with little buddies. Sewing my quilt. Re-potting plants. Odd-jobs. Reading. 

A husband and husband will be flying in from London for a little visit. Good food, wine and company. Then a night away (No kids!) with a top-chick we know at her parents 'Vogue Living' holiday house on Philip Island.

My Dad arrived with his family on the 21st and we all stayed in Carlton, then we had Christmas at my Mum's place in Rosebud and took the car-ferry to Queenscliff to stay with my dad and the crew in Geelong. Oooh and fireworks. Yay!

But hey! It hasn't all been sunshine and light, being bitten by jumping jack ants 5 times on the arse was a lot of fun, as was rolling up my jeans at the beach and getting a tan that goes only half way up my legs. WOO. My sister was behaving like a total twat the whole time and barely talked to my dad's wife. Yawn.

My friend's Mother was murdered in Kenya in a botched robbery on New Year's Eve. My friend had been planning a visit but decided to go in February when the flights would be cheaper. Add to that a case of vitiligo in my arse crack and it sure has been a bittersweet hols...

Luckily as far as in concerned each new year really begins on my birthday so I'm about to start my own process of death and renewal over the next month. 

Dead wood? I'm chucking that shit on the fire!

My Sister's crap.

Old beliefs.

Putting everyone else first.

People who have forgotten children get grumpy when they are tired.

Vitiligo.

The drought.

Dickheads in Commodores.

Made in China.