The title of this post has nothing to do with anything really. I just had a sudden visual of what might be lurking under the pile of toys and dirty sheets that need clearing up/washing in the back room. Really, it CAN'T be old pizza crusts. I don't even let them eat in there. Well, I do sometimes - but not pizza. Oh God, could there really be old pizza crusts in the laundry pile?So it's now the Easter holiday. Two weeks off school for recuperating and relaxing. That's the kids - but not the adults. I'll be needing that...
manging life
The title of this post has nothing to do with anything really. I just had a sudden visual of what might be lurking under the pile of toys and dirty sheets that need clearing up/washing in the back room. Really, it CAN'T be old pizza crusts. I don't even let them eat in there. Well, I do sometimes - but not pizza. Oh God, could there really be old pizza crusts in the laundry pile?So it's now the Easter holiday. Two weeks off school for recuperating and relaxing. That's the kids - but not the adults. I'll be needing that...
I learnt a new phrase the other day, when someone noted that they'd just learnt what a certain acronym meant. I hadn't even noticed it in use before this person mentioned it.The acronym is FML, and apparently the meaning is "Fuck my Life.". I'm sorry mum, there really was no alternative translation for that. It's not like WTF? Which has the gentler version of WTH? which still manages to convey the same spirit.(But do note that I did try and get it into the second paragraph so that you wouldn't have to see a swear word on facebook, so you...
As you may know already, I am in love with my iphone. Everything that a girl could want to do can be done on it. And when I say everything, I really mean it. But this post isn't about the "massager app".It's about controlling my children.[Segue] Oh God, don't you wish there really WAS an app for that? Like a children remote. It would be like the guy running about in "Aliens in the Attic" under the control of the alien remote which had my kids in hysterics. Left, right, straight ahead. Pick up knickers. Pick up toys. Put toys away....
I don't do resolutions. Well that's a sort of lie, what I actually do is make resolutions every month. And always the same ones. And I almost, but not quite manage to keep them.Although mostly it's closer to not.So I don't intend to make any new year's resolutions for 2010. If I can't live up to them on a monthly basis, then a whole year's worth would be far too demoralising.And by the way, how are you pronouncing that? Twenty ten, or two thousand and ten? For me the former sounds weird, but when you compare how we've vernaculised the...
Picture this... A flickering fire low in the fireplace. The glimmer reflected in the baubles swinging gently on the tree, and perched on the edge of the over stuffed armchair, glass of sherry in hand sits Santa. His ruddy face houses eyes of blue that twinkle in the firelight as he inspects a mince pie - lovingly left out for him by the children of the house. But the picture is kinda scewed. Lets try again. A flickering fire low in the fireplace. The glimmer reflected in the baubles swinging gently on the tree, and perched on the edge...
What I've loved most about driving around Sydney this christmas is the wonderful greenness of it all. There is an obvious difference between the green of Sydney, and the green of London, although it took me a while to put my finger on it. It's a subtle hue. The green shifts into a blueish (eucalyptic) hue and also a dusty khaki hue which is uniquely australian. Despite there not being enough water most of the time, the bushland around here looks vibrant and glossy. And the other thing I love, and have realised is the signature of Australia for me -...
I am finding myself in an increasingly intriguing position in life, in that I've started to feel a bit like an alien in my own land. It's my own fault, of course. It's a kind of karmetic payback for going to England and forgetting to come home. For raising pommie children, losing my accent and saying Yog-et instead of Yo-gert. It's not the people that I feel out of odds with - they are the same old generous, leathery populace that was here when I left - with the addition here and there of more sun hats and UV t-shirts...
Remembrance day has been and gone, but I don't see anything wrong with talking about it on any other day of the year, because to be honest - it's one of those things that people seem to forget until it's that one day of the year. And it's not the only thing that people forget, respect as a whole attitude seems to get the short shrift too. I was sitting in the waiting room of my chiropractor the other day, and I was leafing through the "News Shopper" - our local free rag. It's a rivetting read, but the...
Today was a day to get things done. The to-do list was almost a flow chart, and and an overflowing one at that. There were two main categories into which all others fell. The first one was "Pack bag for hospital". The second, however was far more important. And that was "Clean house to Mother-in-law standard". As you can imagine, with such a vastly important pair of activities already listed, there should be no room for anything else on the agenda. That's why I spent most of the day mucking about in nervous apprehension of what tomorrow brings, and...
I am not a domestic Goddess, despite anything I might say to the contrary. I do manage to keep the majority of dust at bay. The idea of dried flesh floating lazily through my sunbeams really is quite distasteful. Especially when you can't see it, but know you're sucking it into your lungs vapidly. And especially when its other people's. I also manage to keep the middle of the carpet vacuumed, and I occasionally uproot the spiders and move them along to a new corner of the ceiling.But overall, I am a terrible housewife. We dip into cluttered madness in...
Yesterday I did one of those things that betray the jumbled mess that is my mind, despite all outward appearances. Having dried and dressed two children after their swimming lessons, rolled up the towels and co-ordinated the wet stuff into the bag, I then walked out of the sports centre, across the junction and down the road with my two children, while still wearing the plastic blue overshoes from the poolside. Our sports centre has a no shoes rule in the changing rooms. You need to either discard your shoes or cover them in blue shower caps. The look is...
The nappy rash cream in the bathroom. My girls are 5 and 7 - if they start getting nappy rash now, I suspect that there will be a whole other problem involved!The lone flip flop in the backyard. Even if I do find its mate which the fox took one night, I don't want it back!The custard in the fridge that I don't dare eat because its been there too long. If I don't want to eat it, what else do I expect that I can do with it? I shudder to think.The black cord skirt that I managed to...
I finally got around to putting random photos back in my albums. All those photos that I took out at one time or another to scan have been sitting in piles in a box for far too long, and I only just made myself put them back. This shouldn't have been a difficult task, since I am slightly anal on the whole photo album front. Each one has a code, and all the photos I took out are marked with their code and then a reference number. For example, a photograph with C403 scrawled on the back will have come...
I have a few theories on men (straight men) and things that they are incompatible with, and cushions are at the top of the list. I know that this is a well debated topic. Men just don't DO cushions. They dislike cushions. They want to PUNISH cushions. That last part is my own take on the scenario. My other half doesn't just ignore the cushions on our sofa, he chooses to sit on them in such a way that their physical form is practically mutilated. They simply can't hold their shape after his not specifically overlarge behind has smashed them...
I've been wandering around the house being very inefficient these last two days. There are so many things that need doing that I keep starting on different things and then getting sidetracked. I've had to replace the covers on the sofas, sort out the errant filing, and go through all the children's winter clothing to see what needs keeping and saving. I want to clean out the loft, I have some client work to complete, an entire pad of music to get to grips with the piccolo part for Sunday, and I need to get some novel writing done.What I've...
New years resolutions should never made on new years day. This has nothing to do with how badly hung over you might be, but more to do with making life resolutions all year round rather than think of something on a single day just because someone tells you to. Life resolutions are things that you decide to do because they'll improve your life. Don't wait a year to start them, put them into action immediately. Don't give up smoking "tomorrow" - do it today. If you can't start it when you think about it, then you're not serious about it....
How unhinged is it to spend time posting a blog entry, only to see after you've submitted it, that you did one on the SAME topic yesterday? I feel like the number 37 bus (which by the way, I used to travel on quite a lot.) Actually, I have different feelings about the number 37 bus. I am almost not married to my hubby thanks to the number 37 bus. It's probably not something a sane Londoner would do, but being an australian, and newly imported, I thought that it was a good idea to catch the number 37 bus...
I now have a huge pile of grey clothing. Grey. Very very grey. Don't think that it is a choice thing. Grey being the new black and all - bollocks. Black is the new black and always will be. Grey is what happens when you let your boyfriend do the washing. To be more specific, grey is what you get when your boyfriend puts more clothing than would fit in the hold of the titanic in your washing machine and blows it up. Of course, that in itself is not enough to ruin the clothing, so add to the mix...
