tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81980835309121184032024-03-05T20:22:29.792+11:00the silver beeSilver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-15125795476656163592019-05-09T11:55:00.001+10:002019-05-09T11:59:00.997+10:00Samhain Shuffle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVL64U4zrA7ewa5iQLFUigCdtckWr_SLHTcUldlAVFWak9QmVERXaYe94DLsFGCv5gR9di3J9M_EUAAcnPBF9DRZzxSMLr58NBKlNinhnlNQedp2Xu8EwTRmB4ZDciWgQlnEiFV97FBG8/s1600/%25E5%2588%2598%25E8%25AF%259A%2528Liu+Cheng%2529-www.kaifineart.com-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="737" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVL64U4zrA7ewa5iQLFUigCdtckWr_SLHTcUldlAVFWak9QmVERXaYe94DLsFGCv5gR9di3J9M_EUAAcnPBF9DRZzxSMLr58NBKlNinhnlNQedp2Xu8EwTRmB4ZDciWgQlnEiFV97FBG8/s320/%25E5%2588%2598%25E8%25AF%259A%2528Liu+Cheng%2529-www.kaifineart.com-3.jpg" width="147" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://liuchenghua.wordpress.com/liu-cheng-hua-a-malaysian-artist/">Art by Liu Cheng Hua.</a></span></div>
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I put my Samhain ritual onto six days of slow burn this year as old skins were dropping like silk garments and a thousand spirits were guiding me with bright lanterns.</div>
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It was a pleasant change to the usual writhing and scratching off of one tight shed skin for the cycle while trying to connect with a single ancestral light hidden in a cupped-hand in a dark forest.</div>
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It was the anniversary of my best friend's suicide on the 3rd (18yrs) and I felt his presence as a calm sensation prompting me to slow down on the uptake of crap on the internet and to bring art, joy and creativity back into my life. Basically to stop feeding the drama goblins and find an outlet.</div>
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These sped-up growth periods can be bright and fizzy but can easily lead to exhaustion. Likewise, depressed episodes can make things feel heavy and stuck. Slow growth periods have so much value as long as the energy flows outwards and doesn't get grounded in frustration or impatience. Deep listening to the very subtlest of energies and really flexes your spiritual muscles and keeps you open to possibility in the dark.</div>
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Key learning: When things speed up, meet the energy with still awareness and when things slow down, meet the energy with poised curiosity. ⏳☯️<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-89440488226122648862018-06-27T22:31:00.000+10:002019-05-09T12:00:27.592+10:00Shit Witch<div style="text-align: center;">
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I'm a Shit Witch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsR3RJUboYLmzQCI-uOSzcTD0X7uybKwhKWWwolYLToAE8TsH8rTaFPQFcJNCEpUrxtahTojAIse8dWa7gCsUaSNndSN_Y-cIBd5q_vfK-6Yp6IsCemyz8zcDJq3DQK6LbcHBeLvSldU/s1600/%25E5%2588%2598%25E8%25AF%259A-Liu-Cheng-www.fineartandyou.com-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="422" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsR3RJUboYLmzQCI-uOSzcTD0X7uybKwhKWWwolYLToAE8TsH8rTaFPQFcJNCEpUrxtahTojAIse8dWa7gCsUaSNndSN_Y-cIBd5q_vfK-6Yp6IsCemyz8zcDJq3DQK6LbcHBeLvSldU/s320/%25E5%2588%2598%25E8%25AF%259A-Liu-Cheng-www.fineartandyou.com-16.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Beautiful artwork by Malaysian Artist Liu Cheng Hua</span></div>
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I don't own a single pair of wicked-witch stripy socks, a robe or a pointy black hat. I don't refer to the dog as 'My Familiar' and my house isn't decorated for Halloween all year 'round.<br />
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I'm not a card-carrying member of The Witch Club. We being witches, does not automatically make us sisters. I stopped assuming all witches are feminists, humanitarians or environmentalists long ago and I know some witches are homophobic, transphobic, racist or sexist because witches are not perfect.<br />
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In the wealthy, western world Herbalists and Midwives are respected. Witches, diviners, psychics and mediums can now make a legal living. Witches are 'cool' and 'in', they have hashtags and aesthetics.. Where I live being a witch does not make me a target. I don't feel 'hunted' and I'm not a victim. I don't fear accusations and burnings. I can practice my craft without fear.<br />
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Elsewhere in the world, women are still accused of 'witchcraft'. They are gaoled or killed (execution/vigilante justice) Most are not even witches at all. They are pretty or lucky or envied or inconvenient women that someone wants rid of or to blame for their own bad luck.<br />
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Even in the bible belt of the USA, a witch will attract far-less scorn than an LGBTQIA person. Right now witches are having a moment and it's pretty fucking good so why lap up this 'We are the granddaughters of the witches you weren't able to burn' crap? For the vast majority of us it's not even remotely true.<br />
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Any witch worth their salt should ask:<br />
'Is there a part of me that is attracted to the witch-path because of some shadowy 'victim' vibes?'<br />
'Is there a part of me that wants to feel attacked, hated or feared?'<br />
'Am I trying to bypass the coloniser history of my ancestors by aligning myself with accused witches?'<br />
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You might be surprised by the answers if you allow yourself to be honest.<br />
Shadow work. It's Shit Witch compost and leads to growth.<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-2945153402750006092017-11-18T11:12:00.000+11:002017-11-27T19:19:05.182+11:0018.11.17 New Moon in Scorpio.<div style="text-align: center;">
I've been feeling it rising like a tide. A rot in my body releasing poisonous gases. Burning my face like a permanent blush. Shame. Hate. Disgust. Rashes on my hands, arms, ankles, throat. </div>
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Finally this morning I dared to look at it. Lying in bed I scanned my body. A rotten pomegranate where my womb should be. Surrounded by protective thorns, worm-ridden. Black ink dripping like blood. I reeled in shock and fell back. My hand grasping onto saffron robes, her sandals. I prostrated and begged. Hot tears.</div>
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She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. Total calm. I knew she was an experienced mid-wife and would help me birth this fruit of collective pain. She swept debris aside, lay a cloth and wordlessly motioned for me to lie on it. Taking a blade of light from the pouch at her waist, she sliced through the thorns surrounding the fruit, performing an etheric episiotomy. </div>
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There was a sudden quickening as my womb began to pulse. She placed my hands on my belly and showed me how to assist by massaging in circular, flowing movements. Like a camera trick the fruit began to travel back through the death and growth cycles all the way to the bud stage as my inside cramped in waves.<br />
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I absorbed all the goodness from the fruit back into the cells of my womb which had returned to it's pink, fertile self. Everything that no longer belonged, all the rot, worms and ink had alchemically combined to form over a dozen black tear-shaped crystals.</div>
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She swaddled the crystals into a neat packet of red silk and pressed them to my heart, my lips, my third eye. She turned and disappeared in a flurry of saffron. I knew they would be buried deep in the earth with solemnity. </div>
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I know I have grieving and healing to do.</div>
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-21346656505134243692017-11-13T23:21:00.000+11:002018-01-30T23:22:40.196+11:00America, Meet Your Shadow.<div style="text-align: center;">
Trump. I really believe this tangerine baboon is where he is for humanity's higher good, this pussy-grabbing arsehole, having made it all the way to The White House is waking us up to the collective ugly of mankind. If Hilary was the one elected it would have been an equally bitter-pill to swallow. Her ways are also the old ways, being the 'powerful woman behind the powerful man' and condoning toxic masculinity.<br />
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I doubt Trump will do anything positive for his supporters, I believe Hilary would have done little for women. Many notable Black Americans claim that their people are now worse off after the Obama administration. Cornel West, William A. Darity Jnr, Ta-Nehisi Coates and Tavis Smiley are just a few to comment on this and the research seems to back them up.<br />
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It takes epic levels of self-control to resist the pageantry of the political system, especially with social media's polarising effects and creepy algorithms. People holding onto dying systems are like grotesque Punch and Judy characters, repellant, yet mesmerising. Trump and Clinton didn't seem real by the end of the election, duking it out like two paper mache puppets in their little stripped booth. It's worth remembering that both puppets are being controlled by one entity, the corporations that make political donations.<br />
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When my emotions are activated by politics, world events or some infamous person's behaviour my 'story' arises and I immediately want to don the self-righteous armour and go to war with whomever or whatever it is that has triggered me. In doing so I am creating a boundary of 'us vs them' which feeds the 'story' and gives it even more INTOXICATING power.<br />
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We literally start lashing out at 'the other' to avoid feeling our own shit and it's totally ADDICTIVE.<br />
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I have learnt that I can avoid a whole lot of wasted energy, cruddy physical sensations and even actual pain by stopping my 'story' in it's tracks and saying 'hey, that was an extreme reaction, is there something deeper going on here?' I take some time and space to 'poke' the issue, feeling the locality of the tension in my body and staying there with presence, just noticing, rather that taking it to a mental place and building a fucking castle.<br />
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Sometimes that process is a millisecond of discomfort and you're out the other side with clarity and purpose and sometimes it's belly down, crawling through a shit-pipe like you're escaping from Shawshank. More and more people are facing it and crawling that pipe. If they aren't, then they'll at least be splattered as others shake themselves free at the other end which is exactly what needs to happen with large-scale belief-systems built on bullshit.<br />
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Victim-shaming. Gender superiority. Gender norms. Racial superiority. Religious superiority. Class superiority. Colonialism. Capitalism. War-mongering.<br />
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These belief systems exist because we need to see others as something 'less than' so we can justify our own uncomfortable behaviours or those of our country, church or community. It's a radical act to begin making space for our grief, anger, fears (and even joy) to flow through when we are used to being on socially conditioned auto-pilot.<br />
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There is no need to demonise or dehumanise anyone to protect our sense of self when our values emanate from the core rather than those simply adopted from family, friends or peers. When we drop the conditioning and tap into what means the most to us, we can start to act from our OWN truth and grow our personal power from the inside out.<br />
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As we begin to connect to ourselves and other humans by dealing with our shit in the place we can have the most impact we may still be challenged by people with different values or beliefs, we just get better at not taking it personally. We move from reactivity to action by channelling our energy into pastimes and projects that are inline with our values.<br />
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Every event that happens on the international stage is an opportunity to thresh out our beliefs and let the chaff fall. We no longer care to waste our time arguing when we are doing something proactive, making time for the kind of self-care that is needed when you do this kind of shadow work or grieving what was before we decide what we will do next.<br />
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Trump will come and Trump will go. In the do-do-do, time focused way of our society functions a four year cycle feels like an awfully big chunk of time. In the overall scheme of things however, four years is but a micro-blink. These systems took a long time to build and they will take a lot longer than the next four years to dismantle. Our 'Leaders' are not our saviours. That is our job and it starts within.<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-73538109120196080322009-11-25T21:22:00.002+11:002017-11-18T16:28:17.590+11:00Hello Again.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Anyone remember the movie 'Hello Again'?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">This one got played a lot in our house. Back in the day when you had to actually rewind movies before taking them back to Videoezy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Anyhoo, I haven't been away for a year and I didn't choke on a chicken ball. Nope. Just busy and planning to go back to study next year, so cross your fingers and hope I get in. I'm just a little bit excited!</span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-78273064659478247742009-05-02T11:23:00.019+10:002016-10-18T12:54:42.108+11:00Term Two Blues.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: 12.4799995422363px;">Bubble has a tiny little cut underneath that bandaid but the blood was copious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: 12.4799995422363px;">Squeak insists on goggles in the bath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Sending Bubble and Squeak back to school after their first term holiday was not fun. Two weeks of having them all to myself again, to sleep in, to plan each day in the morning and not be preparing for tomorrow last thing at night was positively luxurious. They, on the other hand, couldn't wait to go back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would take so long to master the 'early morning, outta the house by 8.40am' thing. By master, I mean leave the house in the morning with out one of us having a complete emotional breakdown. By one of us, I mean me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Call me naive but I truly thought it would be a massive turning point when the boys went to school, In a word, I thought I'd find 'freedom'. Big call, hey?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">What happened to all the time I was meant to have for creative pursuits and to get all this 'stuff' done? I certainly didn't think about lunch boxes, school bags, uniforms, readers, lost property, working bees, birthday parties, library books, water bottles, sun hats, the sick-bay, excursions, notices or play-dates.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I haven't done any of the house-painting I wanted to do and the pile next to my sewing machine has it's own postcode but we are getting into the swing of primary school life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So hopefully I'll manage to post more than once every three months from now on. </span></div>
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-40850337126320539492009-03-04T15:08:00.004+11:002015-01-31T22:09:54.665+11:00Addictions.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Way (waaay... waaaaaaaay) back I got myself tagged by <a href="http://2storyhousestory2.blogspot.com.au/">Claerwen</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The gist of it was to talk about five of my addictions. I just knew I would get to it. Eventually.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Addiction one. Coffee.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSUNNWIrFFbRfxwCkN5OPvSOguEJA4KL7Ue4EQev28llLMDlQVsPbfCv2eu14hi6tk4NDz59m77xEl3OhZCj_gL4IclChJmbyZ14yF14BdiikmRkR-ngkmsMkiTyAcSV8NJcNa28zI-o/s1600/0c46596e38b58e848142476437047b7c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSUNNWIrFFbRfxwCkN5OPvSOguEJA4KL7Ue4EQev28llLMDlQVsPbfCv2eu14hi6tk4NDz59m77xEl3OhZCj_gL4IclChJmbyZ14yF14BdiikmRkR-ngkmsMkiTyAcSV8NJcNa28zI-o/s1600/0c46596e38b58e848142476437047b7c.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The only thing I am <span style="font-style: italic;">truly</span> addicted to is coffee.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>I drink lattes. Usually two a day. I rarely go a day without coffee. Every now and then I have a decaf if I've reached my quota.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Coffee is wonderful. It's comforting, It's ritualistic. It's social. I worship thee Coffee Gods!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Addiction two. Lee Jeans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm a pear-shaped girl, a girl with booty and these jeans just fit. At the moment I have a pair of indigo denim boot-cuts, a pair of black skinnies and a pair of faded blue skinnies. I do wear other jeans but they just don't cut it in the way that my Lees do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Addiction three. British Vogue.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gZZiE_-ste_fLbl6F0QPKp1inMBACbGxvzoke2T5PdvonO3bZBX-m5x_U7W2KhKagE6_0-MbYQ4SmqU8alNCOmoy5n20rDZULvAv615E_U2cFliqelzT41rHG-Pc8_cIscPgJYaEN6g/s1600/bf443770960f3b7245bda19e20d386a8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gZZiE_-ste_fLbl6F0QPKp1inMBACbGxvzoke2T5PdvonO3bZBX-m5x_U7W2KhKagE6_0-MbYQ4SmqU8alNCOmoy5n20rDZULvAv615E_U2cFliqelzT41rHG-Pc8_cIscPgJYaEN6g/s1600/bf443770960f3b7245bda19e20d386a8.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I've read it religiously since 1993. I now get it via airmail and when each new one comes I take time to savour it. After that I cut it to bits and file items of interest away to scrapbook or inspire me later. I have a Diploma in Clothing Production and always kicked ass at pattern making. I love to look at amazing garments and deconstruct them into their parts. It's like a gigantic 3D puzzle for me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Addiction four. Simplification.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am addicted to the <span style="font-style: italic;">Idea</span> of 'Simplification'. Putting it into practice is another thing all together. My love of second-hand crap creates a war-like situation of dire proportions. Clutter is the only winner here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Addiction five. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Going on-line. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Blogging. email. Facebook. Google. I am ashamed of myself. Enough said.</span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-35143184275105529752009-02-20T20:00:00.007+11:002017-10-30T17:24:41.167+11:00Primary Colours.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLncDPh339F08HKiABuehRBqLy7W2CtgA-USvyle1XvNUgDeF2l1fAF9S1WmN8gUy68mBvY4oV-2tw3zQ6awKE5FcKxvyIk9mzewyuvusyGQ6iL20NDp9lSmiEALPA58IK2tYxG_0W27I/s1600-h/fam+pics+2009+353.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345112145226049922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLncDPh339F08HKiABuehRBqLy7W2CtgA-USvyle1XvNUgDeF2l1fAF9S1WmN8gUy68mBvY4oV-2tw3zQ6awKE5FcKxvyIk9mzewyuvusyGQ6iL20NDp9lSmiEALPA58IK2tYxG_0W27I/s320/fam+pics+2009+353.jpg" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: 12.4799995422363px;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">First Day!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Friday was the last day of the boys third week in Primary School. Gosh. There have been so many little shifts and changes in our lives this year. It feels like three weeks ago they were my little babies and now they are definitely big school boys. They come home each day with funny new stories, singing new songs and each day they go off more confidently than the last.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The first day of school was really exciting. We have friends at the school and many of our customer's children are there. The boys walked in like it was the most natural thing and started playing happily so we said quick good-byes and left.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As we are shut on Monday, we decided to do some shopping and then have brunch. While we were sitting outside the cafe, a mum went by with a newborn in a baby carrier. </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I felt the emotions well up and what</span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> followed was a good 20 minutes of blubbing into my french toast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> It really surprised me. My children have been going to child-care since they were three and a half. I didn't feel nervous or even remotely sad when they started their two days of kinda. I think what I felt then was the relief for the break, the time to get some stuff done on my own. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I can't really put my finger on what made me cry. Sadness. Loss. Anxiety. Fear. Perhaps a mix of all of these. I know there was pride and happiness too. Heck, I think I've done a bloody good job so far.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">As we enjoy this new chapter I know the book hasn't quite closed on the old one, they will be my little babies for awhile longer. When they hurt themselves they still need my cuddles, I just hold on a little tighter.</span></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-76169734613765842162009-01-29T15:28:00.005+11:002015-02-03T23:21:43.779+11:00Me-me-me time.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRz4WNbVsrw9Qbj4I9PzXdL4SEYx_F_Ln8d9ZDbqxEGDEfDBxyNYs_FAFLmzgjiHVcbFAFp3BdyseguRkBB2_G6qU17u7QVUqPcb6XUoGr3G4r8M-uQl3ulrGJxhfFJNGXUfcA_yvcSQs/s1600-h/P1000947.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRz4WNbVsrw9Qbj4I9PzXdL4SEYx_F_Ln8d9ZDbqxEGDEfDBxyNYs_FAFLmzgjiHVcbFAFp3BdyseguRkBB2_G6qU17u7QVUqPcb6XUoGr3G4r8M-uQl3ulrGJxhfFJNGXUfcA_yvcSQs/s400/P1000947.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297034709129271698" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bubble and Squeak make a town from Lego and found bits.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98-upwmk9UNm11tuDpeozngAi2yrI5R1JiGnd-5nUa2reFQhEAivXd9PYVylPdUYz-RpFKI2kwI7sy5tLtUtyxHB4sBiKapl-oOEgIlY56buMlTUUxZDhbseDcIgNAZae6ydgpTC7M0w/s1600-h/P1000927.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98-upwmk9UNm11tuDpeozngAi2yrI5R1JiGnd-5nUa2reFQhEAivXd9PYVylPdUYz-RpFKI2kwI7sy5tLtUtyxHB4sBiKapl-oOEgIlY56buMlTUUxZDhbseDcIgNAZae6ydgpTC7M0w/s400/P1000927.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297034703766186642" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">We ate way too much brie...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrK8o8f-Tf8LBsvmunNhulEwNxidLH3qbi-_SGsy-IAetsIlrxzIVyNTam9ZOJvf2HX2kj8BomqAZGF2BO_2SZ0w_YzR6x1VVd7NNg2w08k7hAY1Qzks8bn0ryPDi3wDJebVwyf2wpMAY/s1600-h/P1000910.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrK8o8f-Tf8LBsvmunNhulEwNxidLH3qbi-_SGsy-IAetsIlrxzIVyNTam9ZOJvf2HX2kj8BomqAZGF2BO_2SZ0w_YzR6x1VVd7NNg2w08k7hAY1Qzks8bn0ryPDi3wDJebVwyf2wpMAY/s400/P1000910.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297034694014946370" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bubble as wrestle-dude.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My blog has been a bit light on the word/pictures/posting of late.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's hot. I'm tired. Melbourne is in the middle of a heat wave.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I've been trying to work out if I have time to blog anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I've been pumping the herbs in to me. Getting counselling. Having acupuncture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Look out world!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">... sorry to lower the tone...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-49057559924340021082009-01-15T15:40:00.004+11:002015-02-03T23:21:59.534+11:00Ms February.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Yesterday the only useful things I could do were to wash dishes, make tea and tidy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Thanks Universe, for that nice little toxic red cherry on the cake...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Three of us sat in the lounge room after everyone had left and the kids were tucked up in bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-542380235787963062009-01-04T11:45:00.004+11:002015-02-03T23:22:19.349+11:00Sisters, Arseholes and other Joys of Christmas.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hanging down at the Northcote pools. Storming the parks with little buddies. Sewing my quilt. Re-potting plants. Odd-jobs. Reading. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Dead wood? I'm chucking that shit on the fire!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My Sister's crap.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Old beliefs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Putting everyone else first.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">People who have forgotten children get grumpy when they are tired.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The drought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Dickheads in Commodores.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Made in China.</span></div>
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-37143077511940903982008-12-02T10:50:00.006+11:002015-01-27T19:58:30.844+11:00Ladies! All the Ladies!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Words I wish now-me was able to tell myself at the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;"><br />To the little Lady in grade 2. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hey sweet-heart, it's okay to pee the bed. Heaps of kids your age still do. It's totally NOT okay for your Mum to yell at you for making all this extra work for her when you have poor bladder control.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;">To the little Lady in grade 3.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hey little tom-boy. So. Your Parents are getting a divorce. Well, you are in for a tough ride but you will think and feel your way through it and develop a great sense of empathy. You know that kid at school who is teasing you? His parents are going to get divorced in a few years. Karma's a bitch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;">To the little Lady in grade 4.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hey little girl, I know your totally freaked out. Your Mum's boyfriend is a violent prick and keeps bashing her. Would it make it any easier if I told you you're going to get a beautiful baby Brother out of this whole shit situation who will grow up to be absolutely nothing like his psycho Father?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">To the</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> 17 year old Lady</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hello there Miss, grown-ups are supposed to protect children but your Mum is honestly so fucked up she won't actually believe a word you've told her for ten years. Sometimes something is so horrible we don't want to believe it's true and it's easier to label a child a liar than accept the truth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;">To the 18 year old Lady.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Goddammit! You have a great arse. Don't listen to your Boyfriend's nasty comments. You end up dumping him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;">To the 23 year old Lady.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Your Best Friend has just hung himself. Do you think you should be all happy and gay? Tell your Boyfriend to stick his snare drum up his arse. His band is shit and they are going to break up. Staying with a dude because he has a great family is pretty dumb. In 3 years you'll meet the man of your dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;">To the 27 year old Lady. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Okay. You're in a hospital room with two other mums and their crying babies while yours are down in the Special Care Nursery. Grow some balls and ask to be moved back to your old room where you'll be able to sleep, the room without junkie/methadone Mum ringing the nurse every hour to ask for her drugs. When your Mum tells you she doesn't like the name you picked for one of the twins tell her to 'fuck off!'. It will save you months of heart-ache.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Feels like these Ladies have been my companions over the years, bobbing along like helium balloons above my head. One hand is full of the strings that keep them with me, leaving only one hand to truly grasp life with. So the time comes to cut the strings and away they float into the sunset. I wave goodbye madly with both hands. see ya Girls, it's been real.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Bloody self-indulgent using the blog as a personal-growth sounding board, but I'd like to get my angst out now. I'd quite like to have a <span style="font-style: italic;">normal</span> Christmas this year. One where I <i>actually</i><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>appreciate my parents .</span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-59535078463752710262008-11-29T10:54:00.011+11:002015-02-03T23:23:40.573+11:00Let It Go.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The suicide of one of our customers also brought up past shite.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's time to start looking for the <span style="font-weight: bold;">gift</span> 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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Two beautiful men died. I will <span style="font-weight: bold;">create</span> 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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">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</span>.</div>
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-45488528415858157702008-11-21T15:38:00.003+11:002017-10-30T17:26:55.036+11:00Smacking is just not my thing.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2353/2028321661_29ef5bc8a3_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://farm3.static.flickr.com/2353/2028321661_29ef5bc8a3_m.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 180px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 78%;">tiny weeny red spider mites, thanks<a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2353/2028321661_29ef5bc8a3_m.jpg"> squashbottomcat.</a></span></div>
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Then <span style="font-weight: bold;"></span> some 'kind-soul' behind us muttered, "That one needs a smack."<br />
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If I can only explain how furiously I was trying to control the urge <span style="font-weight: bold;">NOT</span> 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-78673837673908637492008-11-17T18:32:00.006+11:002015-02-03T23:24:01.487+11:00Raw Like Sushi.<div style="text-align: center;">
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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'<br />
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I think I'll stop that from now on. It's exhausting.<br />
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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.<br />
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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...<br />
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<a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/156/438568895_af0629b99c_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/156/438568895_af0629b99c_m.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 184px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ulteriorepicure/">Oh yessiree Ulterior Epicure!</a></span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-315166326690818692008-11-15T11:06:00.003+11:002015-01-27T21:14:49.159+11:00A latte and a bowl of water for Juno...<div style="text-align: center;">
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We were sad to find out yesterday that one of our regular customers had taken his own life.<br />
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Is there something beautiful, talented, young gay men don't realize??<br />
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WHAT A F@#KING WASTE!<br />
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Warning: rant follows.<br />
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Next May will be the 10 year anniversary of my Best Friends hanging suicide.<br />
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2/5/99<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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He tormented, abused, bashed and hated his own son and then most disgustingly, hypocritically of all, lay a gay pride flag across the coffin.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-12910766476157625962008-11-08T10:45:00.003+11:002015-02-03T23:24:31.377+11:00Costume Drama.<div style="text-align: center;">
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There are two kinds of people in this world.</div>
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1. The kind who go all out when it comes to costume parties of any kind</div>
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and</div>
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2. Those who chuck on any old thing and say, "Meh, that's good enough..."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0InzxcPfDIWMC28EljEfjep4oid8n6UB7Ch5apM63kFJ_Y9Q5rPzES7KeztZlcI3Sn2yQyndvEz6-_UAte3FdjHqdvSp0Ec-ZpLHwRJRggZ2dgNyX157FxT2Mx3ij72SLgMAJ7Pms7o/s1600-h/olly's+halloween.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0InzxcPfDIWMC28EljEfjep4oid8n6UB7Ch5apM63kFJ_Y9Q5rPzES7KeztZlcI3Sn2yQyndvEz6-_UAte3FdjHqdvSp0Ec-ZpLHwRJRggZ2dgNyX157FxT2Mx3ij72SLgMAJ7Pms7o/s320/olly's+halloween.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266066140734202626" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.4799995422363px;">My sister. Halloween 08. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.4799995422363px;">A girl who wakes up to find a horses head in her bed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.4799995422363px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="font-size: small; text-align: center;">Let's just say in our family we go all out. Which are you?</span></span></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-10970927957450396632008-11-06T12:02:00.002+11:002015-02-03T23:35:41.391+11:00Thank F@#k.<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9r651LQZqHpzZFAlZWU0xgQJFiFY1tPKCdGo8KhlsEdb8rczmCJpNZOOIuwA3mIfaMj_qoJ5td8F05b3TULZRwII_yftFde58hQQd38MwrGgxAJ8uZ-ab7wPY0cm0fcmNe4gG2tapYI/s1600-h/yeswedid.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9r651LQZqHpzZFAlZWU0xgQJFiFY1tPKCdGo8KhlsEdb8rczmCJpNZOOIuwA3mIfaMj_qoJ5td8F05b3TULZRwII_yftFde58hQQd38MwrGgxAJ8uZ-ab7wPY0cm0fcmNe4gG2tapYI/s320/yeswedid.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265344041448257330" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 198px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mindcaster-ezzolicious/3005235754/">thanks amsterdamize</a><br />
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My faith restored.</div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-42391077125022191082008-11-02T10:26:00.007+11:002015-02-03T23:27:09.267+11:00The Libran scales balance.<div style="text-align: center;">
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Huzzah! Month of October we loved you.</div>
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October heralded a new routine that nurtures the family. More balance in the work rest and play ratios. It just feels right.</div>
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There were warm days and (thankfully) still enough rain to relieve the drought a little.</div>
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These are some things we did that I didn't get around to writing about.</div>
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Chilling in the Ceres play-ground...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHcnROeKcGs6xxi9LVbyH7wgAFGkCQ8jxyquTQBQ2EejmILT1npzVnYudVY4fhpyDMVYKhgOC1aLenwZa29MLKJXSEmDo6mEQFEpnrq9nhiA4D4WlthhRIN0n_t0ai2ryATMe1yogO2Q/s1600-h/bloggy+7.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHcnROeKcGs6xxi9LVbyH7wgAFGkCQ8jxyquTQBQ2EejmILT1npzVnYudVY4fhpyDMVYKhgOC1aLenwZa29MLKJXSEmDo6mEQFEpnrq9nhiA4D4WlthhRIN0n_t0ai2ryATMe1yogO2Q/s320/bloggy+7.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266056974208544098" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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and stopping to smell the flowers.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREPw4UF59-SZP_nSjIZjjRWVkWZPR_fop6Zmrg30tyB9meq1MdXcYIsHCyCI7vDVm8Jb89VLDP5DkCIZEFcnhw-lQA9MXjtXV4tUwBRIo_eLimQ-G_heiD5D7S9FAJ5Rs0f7gIhH71Yw/s1600-h/P1000902.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREPw4UF59-SZP_nSjIZjjRWVkWZPR_fop6Zmrg30tyB9meq1MdXcYIsHCyCI7vDVm8Jb89VLDP5DkCIZEFcnhw-lQA9MXjtXV4tUwBRIo_eLimQ-G_heiD5D7S9FAJ5Rs0f7gIhH71Yw/s320/P1000902.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266063122795117986" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
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After work drinks in a local bar.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LVzLkEUilJqAs16nU5KiR0Zbvd18kdZHGyZJZ94897PxURrKFyUrh7SGsciK0_Ysyn6xPBLnggjnMPhXvMtAyd-B6Tp3nP6WhHV-R76OgVUPSfmnk0iYHok0LXLA55EX8ipal58J6b8/s1600-h/P1000851.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LVzLkEUilJqAs16nU5KiR0Zbvd18kdZHGyZJZ94897PxURrKFyUrh7SGsciK0_Ysyn6xPBLnggjnMPhXvMtAyd-B6Tp3nP6WhHV-R76OgVUPSfmnk0iYHok0LXLA55EX8ipal58J6b8/s320/P1000851.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266064161951457122" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFklFUeUBbbjJve4wXlFYzXJIc8DcuTmHeQOsBx1gAC4E6WKB1XgLtKxU_ycJ8eT4Kc9t39nb577vpTA6abO-Cx2utRM8yisFf32PlwaMjPnDuWL-lqlGpGXMsCSzSFEz-JU9ujKUh0s/s1600-h/P1000850.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFklFUeUBbbjJve4wXlFYzXJIc8DcuTmHeQOsBx1gAC4E6WKB1XgLtKxU_ycJ8eT4Kc9t39nb577vpTA6abO-Cx2utRM8yisFf32PlwaMjPnDuWL-lqlGpGXMsCSzSFEz-JU9ujKUh0s/s320/P1000850.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266064168280913026" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpnBss5G-jS303JKVJSTs484pKQyfz6yK5WRWJKfs08Th0WKl4uUZdzrqKu_qWt7ODijo31q4vZy3lkMiRDSS7kxRoBig7Wa7yEGD_afAwmDGcGxF0kiXQ8eCUhAhlSK5m2rQdFjwmlk/s1600-h/bloggy+3.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpnBss5G-jS303JKVJSTs484pKQyfz6yK5WRWJKfs08Th0WKl4uUZdzrqKu_qWt7ODijo31q4vZy3lkMiRDSS7kxRoBig7Wa7yEGD_afAwmDGcGxF0kiXQ8eCUhAhlSK5m2rQdFjwmlk/s320/bloggy+3.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266055732259087874" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
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Kite flying and sunsets in the local park.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74cp4alOyuVFy0nJx60JnT1Vb9Lj2equ3tpK1NxZFEI5gs4-kgpJ1HSwIz980BCep0sS0QdOy7tSP-uMXUoDcjzmDc-dA0oWL8s69OYIDqTHDPXZUaM66x1VFOlMObS-Qt2C8jQgxR70/s1600-h/bloggy+6.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj74cp4alOyuVFy0nJx60JnT1Vb9Lj2equ3tpK1NxZFEI5gs4-kgpJ1HSwIz980BCep0sS0QdOy7tSP-uMXUoDcjzmDc-dA0oWL8s69OYIDqTHDPXZUaM66x1VFOlMObS-Qt2C8jQgxR70/s320/bloggy+6.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266056970399851394" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 301px;" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2rRDI4113L1MHld_DC179DCa169wsSZ7sB6ftGfpPi33Yh8khvzmsaNR5QpuKNfcIREaTIrbP-eqQG1n2DoCsf-3srfSFLosEu3hQlM4QPt-KFJAQonRkMxnLV2tAA358qfHAfi3DLo/s1600-h/P1000884.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2rRDI4113L1MHld_DC179DCa169wsSZ7sB6ftGfpPi33Yh8khvzmsaNR5QpuKNfcIREaTIrbP-eqQG1n2DoCsf-3srfSFLosEu3hQlM4QPt-KFJAQonRkMxnLV2tAA358qfHAfi3DLo/s320/P1000884.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266062071849807234" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJKpIKgtrthWdeXu7iCy-_lkQyrXRA4wSRag6vPSajdWNZeG85oqeRM2d4vWhSWjvhwtqy2uWFKmWSVOeVNGhVvZWW1n-YZ3TY_Q9QSQWLmVHQMNrCHmcDIOtK-fIiS7ln0AhYwxMZ0U/s1600-h/bloggy+4.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJKpIKgtrthWdeXu7iCy-_lkQyrXRA4wSRag6vPSajdWNZeG85oqeRM2d4vWhSWjvhwtqy2uWFKmWSVOeVNGhVvZWW1n-YZ3TY_Q9QSQWLmVHQMNrCHmcDIOtK-fIiS7ln0AhYwxMZ0U/s320/bloggy+4.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266055729705530978" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmcmySpqId0Ex4NHPlr7KOdjycVK_EzZQaViSQXUchts1GGul2RWL3H6dynbajYkMDOBKPbQPg-e5qHREetI3txGGjagBxmlvC_QD1XKOkE0oslvzel_Mi8WAUXAGbs4g8-69pPy_03Q/s1600-h/P1000894.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmcmySpqId0Ex4NHPlr7KOdjycVK_EzZQaViSQXUchts1GGul2RWL3H6dynbajYkMDOBKPbQPg-e5qHREetI3txGGjagBxmlvC_QD1XKOkE0oslvzel_Mi8WAUXAGbs4g8-69pPy_03Q/s320/P1000894.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266060845731411682" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-61179241679620707652008-10-30T13:48:00.004+11:002015-02-03T23:35:58.550+11:00Mo-fo.<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3169/2846197850_37dd53c086_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3169/2846197850_37dd53c086_m.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 158px;" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I find it f#@$ing hilarious that <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rakka/">someone</a> took the time to paint a picture of Tom Selleck in hommus of all mediums.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Why the hell am I writing about Tom Selleck? I'm trying to convince Mat to grow a moustache. I just happen to think he would look cute.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">It has absolutely </span><b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">ZERO</b><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> to do with the fact that my friend in primary school, Katie and I had a </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>massive</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> thing for Magnum P.I. in the eighties. Phwoar! The hairy chest, the dimples, the Ferrari, the sarky butler. Man, that show had it all.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Now excuse me, I'm hungry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I feel like a bowl of hommus for some reason...</span><br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-68862773742791109332008-10-28T09:21:00.002+11:002015-02-03T23:35:17.913+11:00Like Sands through the Hourglass.<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
I look at the calendar, I see it's the last week of October and a mild sense of panic comes over me. I think how quickly another year has come and gone and feel a sense of melancholia sweeping over me. Am I the worlds worst procrastinator?<br />
<br />
Goddammit! In my mind it's still March or April and I've got ages of time to get things done before Christmas/The Holidays/New Year.<br />
<br />
Oh how will get all those things done if I can't even manage to remove excess body hair on a regular basis?<br />
<br />
Cripes! Time to make a list?<br />
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<br /></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-26955112501549601372008-10-11T12:57:00.008+11:002015-01-30T23:51:34.772+11:00Eczema, Asthma, Allergy, Excrement<div style="text-align: center;">
When bubble was about 3 months old he got cradle cap on his cradle cap which soon traversed his face, turned his cheeks blotchy and caused a great deal of discomfort. I approached the Maternal Health Nurse who insisted it was heat rash. Heat rash that worsened well into the cooler months of 2004.<br />
<br />
Things seemed a little better on our 3 month visit to the U.K and the rash appeared to improve. When we returned Mat went back to work and I was eating a snack of peanut butter on celery. After licking off the peanut butter I gave bubs one of the celery sticks to chew on to soothe his erupting teeth. His eyes became watery and itchy and he got a marked rash on his face. I was quite concerned and visited the doctor for a referral to an allergy specialist. The doctor insisted I was being too hasty and that he would 'grow out of it'. Two weeks later I was back at the docs because he had developed a wheeze. The doc prescribed Ventolin.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuIetMbjiUVwnrbaHDqlMxfpcl7GA7A1co1dV40UrrQmdFAJTeoaCFyduhNEx6HKpnCuwBwp8qi_b3mEn32VWEmzldSrqgihQhF888HxYi0BlIkVbkQNE9LpOnvSngcFxVACMxOysDv8A/s1600-h/19.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuIetMbjiUVwnrbaHDqlMxfpcl7GA7A1co1dV40UrrQmdFAJTeoaCFyduhNEx6HKpnCuwBwp8qi_b3mEn32VWEmzldSrqgihQhF888HxYi0BlIkVbkQNE9LpOnvSngcFxVACMxOysDv8A/s320/19.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255712728525569218" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 78%;">.</span><br />
Instead we took him to the Homeopath which completely removed the wheeze, it also (as the Homeopath wanted) pushed the problem back onto the surface of the skin.<br />
Hello bright red blotches.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZaq4nPRWUihlydUXAec1lFTmjWlBUXB5L6dsTeYA5czeNz80H4_JN3iIi3oP-M6ZbvYlvYfLSpoFOIOropolyBmuRTr7uNRttNLQgI2I59CBW_gdxCsV2TZsivRWbH_tpWesB3cclZlg/s1600-h/1+8+5+f.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZaq4nPRWUihlydUXAec1lFTmjWlBUXB5L6dsTeYA5czeNz80H4_JN3iIi3oP-M6ZbvYlvYfLSpoFOIOropolyBmuRTr7uNRttNLQgI2I59CBW_gdxCsV2TZsivRWbH_tpWesB3cclZlg/s320/1+8+5+f.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255721258469488898" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><span style="font-size: 78%;">The boy's 2nd Birthday. </span><br />
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A week after their second birthday I made a chicken and sweetcorn soup with egg in it which Bubble promptly vomited up. At this point we were pretty convinced that he had allergies to peanut and egg but the doctor still claimed he would grow out of it and that waiting lists at the R.C.H were a year long so why bother.<br />
<br />
6 months later at my 30th birthday party Bubble's lips blew up like Mick Jagger's after eating a biscuit and we made the quick-dash to the R.C.H. We had to sit around for 4 hours while the nurses observed him. I was not leaving that emergency dept without a referral letter which I was <span style="font-style: italic;">eventually</span> given by (very maturely) refusing to leave.<br />
<br />
2 months later we were able to see the allergist for a skin-prick test. Bubble had histamine responses to egg, nuts, soy, grasses, dust mites, green peas and sesame. We also noticed, by keeping a diary food intolerance to some additives, sulphur, tomato and yeast.<br />
<br />
We became accustomed to carrying the Epi-pen with us when we went out and learned how to navigate menus and food-labelling of our groceries safely. The upside was that we started cooking nearly all of our meals from scratch.<br />
<br />
We still wonder WTF? if Bubble breaks out in hives or itches or can't sleep because we do our damned best to eliminate any suspect foods. It's tricky.<br />
<br />
My advice for any mums out there is to trust your instincts. If it looks like shit and smells like shit, It's shit. Don't let anyone tell you it's chocolate mousse. Who cares if people think you're paranoid or OTT. You know your baby better than anyone.<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">The crappy part for Bubs is that the earlier a child is tested for allergies, the better the chances of growing out of them. The key is avoiding foods that trigger a response to allow the immune system to get stronger. The more a child is exposed to an allergen, the more the immune system is weakened and the more likely it is that they will become sensitive to other allergens as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><br /></span></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-32431252923819064552008-10-09T11:14:00.006+11:002015-02-03T23:26:39.684+11:00What are words worth?<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXY6cVBA9mQ4J3mlE9eGppbHINT_FFMMHOcbmrigo3uGPWHMErB1wmkp4FZOr7xehmK7P70sQcDfYfbYGV0Zwe4MNFENiQ0EEKxDJGb6_eeSyt_J2sm_0ImgbbSgw2WwcIjT5Iw__ZRTk/s1600-h/CCF09102008_00000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXY6cVBA9mQ4J3mlE9eGppbHINT_FFMMHOcbmrigo3uGPWHMErB1wmkp4FZOr7xehmK7P70sQcDfYfbYGV0Zwe4MNFENiQ0EEKxDJGb6_eeSyt_J2sm_0ImgbbSgw2WwcIjT5Iw__ZRTk/s320/CCF09102008_00000.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254951857998454690" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><span style="font-size: 78%;">msaims goes to school, K.L Malaysia 1981<br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Next week my ickle bublets go to their prep orientation and next year they are starting school. Yikes!! Perhaps it's time for me to start correcting a few of the very cute but incorrect words they use.<br />
<br />
For example...<br />
<br />
fancy renstarant = a nice restaurant<br />
caresil = careful<br />
poisontous = poisonous<br />
advelet = advert<br />
<br />
"I saw an advelet on TV for a fancy renstarant but we have to be very carecil because they serve poisontous puffer fish sushi."<br />
<br />
See what I mean?<br />
<br />
Not phased though, I called rollerskates skolleraters til I was 6 and I turned out okay, right?<br />
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Do any kids you know use words that crack you up?<br />
<br /></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-18333254538984829092008-10-05T11:59:00.002+11:002015-01-31T21:29:25.291+11:00New curtains<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzoay4WHT3w3KGdATUoR_5XcvQGGb8yn6ufV6qwzI4OSTwB21vOT4cZUewpQmAevadIvbYzOEEHSdpdIjDH58k67ugaxIsG54j9WZBJvctW4nmltvgCHru37XPHLZxr6TFEiVmTGIYlI/s1600-h/plastics+008.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzoay4WHT3w3KGdATUoR_5XcvQGGb8yn6ufV6qwzI4OSTwB21vOT4cZUewpQmAevadIvbYzOEEHSdpdIjDH58k67ugaxIsG54j9WZBJvctW4nmltvgCHru37XPHLZxr6TFEiVmTGIYlI/s320/plastics+008.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253471179346998690" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Still life with cyclamens, wisteria and new curtains.<br />
<br />
Quick post for my Sister.<br />
<br />
I was sewing these while she was calling from a pay-phone late at night in New York and a rat the size of a small cat hissed at her. Creepy little Asshole of a rat.<br />
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Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198083530912118403.post-6429778020541863452008-10-05T11:02:00.002+11:002015-02-03T23:36:40.548+11:00Happy Birthday Mum.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/23/31360384_ce299b3d63_m.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/23/31360384_ce299b3d63_m.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 78%;">Pic via <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/drp/">drp</a> 's photo stream on Flikr</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ff6666; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;">This is funny because it's <i>SO</i> something my mother would say. </span><br />
<span style="color: #ff6666; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ff6666; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;">Have a great day Mum.</span><br />
<span style="color: #ff6666; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
Silver Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922071503143131842noreply@blogger.com0