Thursday, 26 February 2015

Soggy Sandwiches And Other Sagas

As usual I've been busy, busy, busy! Especially this week with the Oscars happening. I'm sure you spotted me on the red carpet. No? You just weren't looking hard enough. OF COURSE I was there! I dashed over on my private jet. Yes, I took my Dinner Fairy with me! Duh! OK you got me, I made that up.
As a matter of fact, I believe I would rather gauge my eyeballs out than attend this grandiose affair. It's much easier to sit at home in my leggings and t-shirt and wistfully survey all those glossy genetically blessed and surgically enhanced stars. I haven't seen one single movie that was nominated so I have no opinion about who should have won, I just watch it for the frocks. Anyway, the Oscars are like SO four days ago, so who even cares anymore?

Let's move on to more interesting topics. ME! Shut up. I'm fascinating. For instance, this week has involved packing school lunches, grocery shopping, exercising, doing crossword puzzles and listlessly flicking through TV stations.

Oh yeah, I did start a TAFE course. I've already learnt one VERY IMPORTANT thing:

Packed lunches SUCK.

No wonder I constantly fish out soggy sandwiches from the boys school bags. Bleurrrrrrgggghhhhhh.

Yes folks, it's always about the food with me. I'm still attending Weight Witches but haven't quite got my broom stick yet. Shut up.

So why I am doing a computer course when I'm already a technological GENIUS?  Well, it gets me out of the house. That's something. And maybe, just maybe I might end up getting one of those things that people do. Um....ah....oh dear... I can't even say the word.

Nope. Can't say it. But it has three letters. Starts with a J. Rhymes with 'cob'. Shudders. I haven't had one of those since....

Never mind.

One of my TAFE teachers was most encouraging, saying that she had another lady in one of her class who'd been out of the workforce for 14 years and ended up getting a job as a result of doing the course. So you never know.

But now that I've splashed all the details of my Weight Witches and TAFE all over this utterly fascinating blog you can be sure to be entertained by my EPIC FAILS.  As soon I make a public statement that I'm going to do something I'll fail. Yay me. So just pretend you didn't read this when you spot me a year from now corpulent and  unemployable. Thanks for that.

Anyway, it's all good. It's not like I'm going to end up destitute and homeless if it doesn't work out. So I figure I may as well give it a go. If it's not meant to be I've still got my Sugar Daddy, aka Mickey Blue Eyes. A much older*, wealthy**man to keep me in the this glamorous and lavish lifestyle to which  I've become accustomed.

Case in point: yesterday we finally got a plumber to fix our leaky taps, toilet and shower! Mr 10 nearly burst with excitement and pure joy at being able to do something as simple as turn a tap on and off with minimal effort. Last week involved a visit from the electrician to fix our dodgy power points which were full of ants. Guess what?

Now we can do something really avant garde:  PLUG THINGS IN! AND THEY WORK! See? I told you it was grand around here! Why on Earth would I want one of those things that start with a J anyway?

Our WiFi was also resurrected yesterday. It's been down and out as there was work being done in our street for this NBN thingamajig.  The boys reacted as if we'd won the lottery yesterday when they arrived home from school.

This Saturday is the return of the phenomenon known as Schlepping To Soccer At Stupid O' Clock. As you can see, my life is always action packed and exciting!

Anyway, must dash. Have to go and do something else that's super riveting and totally out there: Make a sandwich for lunch. At least  it won't be soggy this time. 

* He's over 50. He can get pensioners insurance. Snorts.
** Bahahahaha! He thinks he's wealthy!

Linking up for The Lounge.

Tell me, how do you stop sandwiches from going soggy?

Tuesday, 24 February 2015

The Middle Muddled Riddle

Welcome to another glorious Monday! Don't you just love that feeling when you wake up on this most revered of days and the sun is flooding the room with it's mellow rays? Birds are chirruping an enchanting tune outside your window. Your eyes sparkle with uncontained enthusiasm as you fling back the bed covers bursting with joy and energy, ready to start another week?

Yeah, me neither. Farking Mondays. Who invented them, anyway? And I don't even go to work. Ahem. Shut up.

This morning we actually woke up stupendously late and then had to dash about like mad things with motors up our bums. It was most amusing. Unless you were us. In which case it was just plain annoying.

Additionally, the weather is dismal and gloomy. Grey clouds are looming with the promise of more rain. But this rain won't cool things down. It will still be hot and humid. Ridiculous. But I shouldn't complain. Except I just did. Oops. At least I'm not in Queensland, where Cyclone Marcia has wreaked her havoc. I hope everyone up there is keeping safe.

Anyway, without further ado, I now announce that the rest of today is officially cancelled. Of course, as usual I have no authority whatsoever to do this, but that has never stopped me before. DETAILS.

Please note that by the time I get around to actually posting this it will no longer be Monday, rendering all of the above obsolete. Except I have discovered that Tuesday mornings are no better. And all weekday mornings. Even Saturday is about to become fraught with early morning soccer for the boys. So frankly, all mornings suck. The end.

And now, moving on to other pressing matters.  Today I am making the monumental confession of my middle name. I know you've spent many hours pondering this, tossing and turning unable to sleep at night without this vital information. I must put you out of your misery. Therefore, I can now announce that my middle name is....

Drum roll, please.....


Worth waiting for, wasn't it? Quite ridiculous really. Vanessa Rapunzel. Hmmm, it does have a ring to it. I did have really long hair as a child, too. But there's only one problem.

I made that up. It's not really Rapunzel. Had you fooled, didn't I?What? Not for a second? HMPH. You smarty pants.

Fancy a multiple choice quiz? You don't? Too bad, you're getting one anyway!

May I present to you my middle muddled riddle!  OK, technically it's not really a riddle, it's a multiple choice question. But why do you have to be so pedantic? I've been reading WAY too many Dr Suess books with Mr 6, so just humour me, OK?  My middle name is:

a) Esmerelda
b) Jane
c) Anne
d) All of the above
e) None of the above

If you answered with c, then I WISH you were right. I would love to have Anne with an 'e' as my middle name. But alas, my parents didn't choose any of those names. The correct answer is, of course, e. Tricked you!

The suspense is killing you, right? Or you couldn't less, one or the other. If it's the latter, then we're done here. Click away NOW. See how easy that was? Now that we're rid of the riff raff, I can finally make my stunning revelation.

My middle name REALLY is.....

Bring back that drum roll....


With a totally redundant e on the end! Yay for redundant e's!!

This is exactly the same as my Mum's middle name.

But do you want to know something really funny? Like Mickey Blue Eyes' middle name? It's... wait for it...  Raeburn. Snorts. Seriously. It really is. I shouldn't laugh, because it was his grandfather's name or something.

Oh well, who really uses middle names anyway? Only when you fill out forms. In which case you just want something short and simple, so Faye fits that criteria.

And now you will have a blissful nights sleep tonight replete with that fascinating information. You're most welcome.

Stay tuned for the next thrilling update when I reveal something even more earth shattering. As soon as I figure out what it is...

Linking up for I Must Confess.

What's your middle name?

Thursday, 19 February 2015

He Called Her Cookie

For such a long time he had wanted a dog. Not a cat. Not a rabbit. Certainly not a guinea pig. It had to be a dog. And not just any dog.

"I want a golden retriever!" Mr 10 begged with imploring eyes.

A majestic golden retriever, with a glossy coat, melting, mischievous brown eyes and boundless energy. They could play and lollop and frolic and have so much fun! Mr 10's eyes shone with such grand visions.

But there would be poop, I reminded him. LOTS of poop.

"I'll clean it up!" he insisted. 

Mickey Blue Eyes and I looked at each other, nonplussed. We were slowly warming to the idea of a dog. Mr 10 had his heart set on it. But we weren't convinced about a golden retriever.

I'm not really a fan of gigantic horse-like dogs. Or tiny little over grown rat-like yappers. But I do like some dogs.

Wise, warm-hearted dogs who are fiercely loyal and full of character. Like Samantha, the sausage dog we had when I was a child. She was like a human trapped in the body of a bandy-legged, rotund dachshund. She was amazing. I wanted Mr 10 to have a dog like that. A furry best friend.

We scanned the Internet looking for just the perfect pooch. There were many tears of frustration from Mr 10 who wanted it all to happen NOW. The idea of being able to save a dog from death row at the pound appealed to Mick and I.

Accordingly, we set off one afternoon to check out the possibilities. Upon entering the pound we were greeting by a cacophony of raucous barking. Menacing mutts the size of Mexico roared their indignation at being behind bars.

Mr 10 and 6 promptly burst into tears. Meanwhile, Mr 13 had wisely waited in the car. He wasn't as keen on the dog idea. Eventually, we were able to coax the boys to have a further look at all the cages. It was very dispiriting. The dogs were all obviously unsuitable. Although I felt awful seeing them all locked up like that, at the same time I would have been fearful of them being let out. 

We returned home with a dejected Mr 10. A few weeks passed. More Internet searching ensued. This led to discovering Sydney Dogs And Cats Home.  One Sunday, Mick took Mr 10 and 6 for a drive there.

A few hours later Mr 10 came bounding into the house.

"Mum, we have a dog!" he was beaming. He led me outside and there she was. A beautiful and gentle fox terrier cross. We're not exactly sure what the 'cross' part is, but we're guessing corgi. She wasn't a puppy, but she was wise, loyal and full of character. He named her Cookie.

It seems like it was meant to be. Now she's part of our family. She's a bit of tart in that she loves everyone and anyone. An extrovert dog in an introvert family. She'd be completely useless as a guard dog. She'd welcome any thieves with a wagging tail and be excited to meet new friends!

She sits at the back door, gazing in with her mournful eyes. Other times, when I walk past, there she is, head tilted, expression quizzical. Yes, dogs DO have expressions.

The funniest thing is her antics in regard to Henrietta, our pet parakeet. Cookie bolts down to Henrietta's aviary in the backyard in her headlong fashion.  Reaching the cage she tenses, ready to pounce. The hairs on her back stand up as she lunges her little fox terrier frame frantically at the cage, eyes never leaving Henrietta.

Henrietta is totally unruffled. She saunters down from her perch to the edge of the cage and proceeds to taunt Madam Cookie.

"Hello!" she chirps, chest proud.  Cookie hurtles higher up to the cage, incensed.

"Hello!" Henrietta keeps mocking her.

It's like watching the cat and mouse shenanigans of Tweety and Sylvester. Hilarious!

Cookie would indeed relish the opportunity to have Henrietta in her clutches.  Funnily enough, she never barks at her. She just keeps lunging at the cage repeatedly. Despite the fact that this pursuit  never pays off, she is quite persistent in her efforts, our little Sylvester,.. I mean, Cookie!

Afterwards she will bound back across the grass to Mr 10 and rest her paws on his legs, tail pulsating. She is happiest in these moments.

She snoozes on the back porch throughout the day, waiting for her beloved boy to return home from school for cuddles and play. They already have an unbreakable bond. I'm glad they have each other. Having a dog was such a comfort to me as a child. I love to think of Mr 10 having that same comfort. 

It's also good finally having another girl in the family, even it is only a dog!

And yes, Mr 10 cleans up her poop. Someone has to and it might as well be him. He has to learn, doesn't he? Ahem. Besides, I've cleaned up enough poop in my time.

Cookie will be a part of our family for many years to come. When she finally goes to doggie heaven we'll most likely adopt again. It's good to have a furry friend.

Linking up for The Lounge.

Do you have any pets?

Tuesday, 10 February 2015


I have no idea what I'm blogging about and am just rambling because my laptop/internet connection has suddenly decided to work  and I just  need to type while it works. Because it will just decide to shit itself again and it will be another six months before I can post  here and i know I'm not  using proper grammar and punctuation because I'm  in such a raving rush. 

This week has been a week of new beginnings. I started going to a writing group and enrolled for a  TAFE course. It's something about skills for further employment or some such palaver. I think  about  perhaps  attempting to  work in library again but then I never do anything about it, so we'll see. Remains to be seen where I'm going with this  because every time  I think about the dreaded old job interview I feel sick and hysterical and COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT. I haven't been for one since..... Never mind. 

It was a bloody long time ago and it didn't go well. But enough about that. I'm jumping topics and not making sense. 

I wish I didn't have to rush and this is total rubbish. One day I may write an entire sentence that is well thought out, interesting and expressive. This isn't one day. Sorry. Not sorry. Sort of sorry. Oh God. Save me.

All I want is a laptop and an internet connection that work. Is that too much to ask? And time. Lots of lots of time.

Mickey Blue Eyes and I were just having a discussion this evening about people on the internet. We decided that I am a very good lurker. Not just online, but in real life. I lurk around our house. I'm lurking through life. I like to lurk. I could probably put down lurking as a skill on my updated resume. No?

Mickey Blue Eyes is making me a cup of tea. That's interesting information, is it not?

I guess it's back to writing on paper for me. You remember those weird things? Pens? Paper? Swooon. I love writing with pen and paper.

Just to prove how utterly classy I am, here's some further evidence:  I am becoming a KMart fan. Oh well. At least it's a change from Big W and Best & Less. Admittedly not much of a change, but still a change. Sort of. Oh OK, it's still cheap and nasty. But that's what's good about it! I can buy shit. And as long as I don't think about those folk slaving in sweat shops in Bangladesh or China just so I can buy an eight dollar top it's all good. Gulps.

Mickey Blue Eyes is doing the dishes. I knew there was a reason I married this man. One day I will have a gleaming new kitchen with a dishwasher. This isn't one day.

Yesterday I went to my writing group. I actually read some shit out loud in front of people and didn't explode and die.  Who knew?

Today I went out for lunch with my friend Kimmy. Tomorrow I have a counselling appointment and Thursday and Friday I start my course. For this introverted Aspie with a preference for lurking that is FULL ON.

Related: I've been doing some of those personality profiling/testing thingys. You know, because I'm totally self-absorbed and all, and anyway, it's really freaky how accurate they are! I'm an INFP.  

Which obviously stands for Intelligent, Nice, Fabulous Person! Or something....

You know those days when you go out for a really lovely lunch and then come home full, not really caring about whether you have dinner or not.  Right on cue, all three boys: "What's for dinner?"

Similarly, if we go out to an occasion where there is shit tonnes of food served, such as on Christmas Day. You roll back into the car afterwards feeling like you never want to eat EVER AGAIN. Or, you know. at least until tomorrow. Cue all three boys: "I'm hungry!"

One day there will FINALLY be a Dinner Fairy in this house. I mean, I'm sure the boys would look quite cute in fairy costumes. Today isn't one day.

On the weekend two out of three boys signed up for the soccer season again. So now we'll have the joy of schlepping to soccer training several nights a week and waking up early on Saturdays for games again. Yay.

Mr 13 wants to give a new club a try, so he's also signing up very soon. This means I'm going to be super busy between soccer, Tafe, Writing Group and Weight Witches. Yes I know, all you full time working Mums out there, I can hear the violin music too. Sad, is it not?

What else can I tell you? Surely I can make something up? Oh! We started applying for passports! And you know what that means, don't you??!!!

Absolutely nothing!

We'll apply for them and still end up going to Dubbo for our holidays!

One day we will embark on an extravagant, adventurous around the World trip.  London, Paris, New York! THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD! It has to happen, people! This isn't one day.

So to round off this completely ridiculous, rambling post, I'll leave you with this quote:

Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow.

Hang on, is that right?  Oh well, whatevs, as Mr 13 would say.

Stay tuned for the next rambling stroll down Nessville Lane!