tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182877292977847992024-02-07T17:14:36.444+11:00Don't Spare Me the DetailsToo much information about an ordinary lifeAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-84678815726241854132014-03-29T07:35:00.001+11:002014-03-29T07:35:45.150+11:00What's That Smell?Woolworths didn't have my usual washing powder this week, so I had to get substitute. <br />
Same brand different fragrance. <br />
This one is supposed to be "lemon fresh". <br />
I opened the box with no great expectations only to have my nostrils assailed by a most peculiar odour. It didn't really smell like lemons, not even some sort of chemically lemon-esque scent. After a few seconds my olfactory memory kicked in. My new soap powder fragrance was highly reminiscent of the surface spray I use around the skirting boards to keep the cockroaches at bay. <br />
(Sadly I am very familiar with that particular scent at the moment-we seem to be under attack from giant mutant cockroaches: EWWW!) <br />
On the plus side our clothes should be free of crawling insects for the foreseeable future.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-91162168469358341392013-12-14T10:14:00.000+11:002013-12-14T10:14:19.973+11:00Too MuchTo DoLike everyone else at this time of year I find myself drowning in a sea of busy. I am up to my middle with have to, got to and must do and sinking fast. As I lay in bed, my head buzzing with what I haven't managed to finish off today and what I need to do tomorrow, I find myself asking, when did Christmas stop being fun and start being hard work? <br />
<br />
Why is it that to do lists always include things like-<br />
<ul>
<li>pay bills, </li>
<li>worm the cat</li>
<li>find the source of mystery smell in the bathroom, </li>
</ul>
And never include-<br />
<ul>
<li>read trashy novel under shady tree </li>
<li>drink cocktails at sunset</li>
<li>lay in bubble bath until skin is all wrinkly and prune-ish.</li>
</ul>
So right now in this unexpected lull I am going to write myself a fantasy to do list. What would I do if time, money, talent and responsibility were no barrier. Hmm, let's see in addition to the above I would-<br />
<ul>
<li>sleep solidly until I woke up naturally</li>
<li>learn to crochet</li>
<li>learn to dance</li>
<li>learn a language</li>
<li>take up fencing</li>
<li>create a garden</li>
<li>sky dive</li>
<li>run a marathon</li>
<li>learn to play a musical instrument</li>
<li>climb a mountain</li>
<li>see the northern lights</li>
<li>walk on the great wall of China</li>
<li>drink Champaign in a hot air balloon</li>
<li>scuba dive in the tropics</li>
<li>stand beside an active volcano</li>
<li>visit exotic destinations (Versailles, Rome, Pompeii, Petra, Egypt, Paris, South America)</li>
<li>photo safari in Africa </li>
<li>finish PhD (start PhD)</li>
<li>see a glacier up close</li>
<li>write a book</li>
<li>laugh heartily and often (I never seem to do it anymore)</li>
<li>slow down, ease up, let go</li>
</ul>
Now that's a far more interesting and fun to do list. Merry Christmas.<br />
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-72274447586139032152013-01-19T15:03:00.000+11:002013-01-19T15:03:06.236+11:00Shaking BedLast night as I was drifting off to sleep my bed started vibrating. (And before you ask, my hero is away and I was sleeping alone). <br />
This isn't the first time my bed has shaken (really you want to go there?) but I have been noticing it happening a lot lately. I don't recall it happening if there is anybody else in bed with me (oh, grow up!). Nor can I remember it occuring with any light on (either the room light, bedside lamp or light coming in from the hallway or ensuite). While last night it hapened as I was falling asleep in the past it has happened when I've been awake and once or twice I have been woken up by it.<br />
It's a difficult thing to describe. If you've ever experienced a mild earth tremor it's sort of like that but not quite. It is definitely the bed moving and not me. It feels like a gentle shaking that increases in intensity but never really gets too vigorous.<br />
I'd love to know what could be causing it or failing that if anybody else has experienced anything similar.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-12591495481330219612013-01-02T11:04:00.000+11:002013-01-02T11:04:24.088+11:00Happy New YearI can report the year's first confirmed sighting of <strong>hot cross buns. </strong>In Woolworths at Mordialloc around 10am this morning, January 2nd.<br />
Can anybody beat that?Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-2036117050766513852012-12-02T19:20:00.001+11:002012-12-02T19:20:37.416+11:00I Should Never...Paint my nails whilst drunk.<br />
Enough said.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-76203365158240981782012-08-20T06:44:00.000+10:002012-08-20T06:44:04.608+10:00No Sugar ChallengeI made it. 50 days sugar-free. It's been an interesting challenge. It opened my eyes to just how much sugar was in my, relatively healthy, diet. I will be continuing on with the low sugar life and try to keep my food intake limited to those that contain less than 5% sugar but I won't be as obsessive about it. After all, life calls for some flexibility.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-82700372614245910932012-07-24T15:39:00.000+10:002012-07-24T15:39:41.845+10:00It's not mess, it's art: apparently.Master of the Bleeding Obvious has a busy weekend as was evidenced by the pile of shoes that had accumulated just inside the back door (the selection included shool shoes, a pair of docs, a set of heels and a few ballet flats-for those who are interested in that sort of thing). By Sunday night I was well and truly tired of tripping over them every time I came inside and suggested she might like to put the mess away or feel my wrath. <br />
This threat was met with a deadpan: "They're not mess, they're an art installation."<br />
Nice comeback.<br />
The shoes were removed nonetheless.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-42268102976661986992012-06-29T06:54:00.000+10:002012-06-29T06:55:28.113+10:00No Sugar Challenge<g_vml_:shape style="height: 408px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 568px;"><g_vml_:fill></g_vml_:fill></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 408px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 568px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 408px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 568px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 408px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 568px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 408px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 568px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape>
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<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" itemscope="itemscope" itemtype="http://schema.org/BlogPosting">
I come from a long line of type 2 diabetics. (Cheers,
forebears) Knowing my age and weight increase my chances of inheriting the
family legacy last year I significantly reduced my sugar intake.<br />
Things were
going well but lately stress has seen sugar and refined carbs creep back into my
diet...in some cases explode back would be a more accurate phrase.<br />
In an
attempt to get things back on track I have decided to join 50 days sugar free. It
sounds like a hard slog but my experience was that hunting down the hidden sugar
in food was more difficult than the loss of sweetness.<br />
Why not join me
and give it a go, check out the details here: <a href="http://www.nataliecartertalksfitness.com/2012/06/natalie-carters-nosugar-challenge.html" target="_blank">Natalie Carter's No Sugar Challenge</a></div>
</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-65098387759237384042012-06-20T15:42:00.002+10:002012-06-20T15:42:49.331+10:00Melbourne Eathquake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://static.mamamia.com.au/wp-content/gallery/melbourne-earthquake/melbourne_earthquake_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://static.mamamia.com.au/wp-content/gallery/melbourne-earthquake/melbourne_earthquake_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I think this picture says it all.<br />
Apparently this was the largest quake we've had in 30 years but the couple of quick shakes we felt here were barely noticed. The last quake at least cracked the plaster in our ceiling.<br />
On the plus side at least nobody was hurt and the resulting damage is mainly mess than actual destruction.<br />
In fact I'm a bit embarrassed to call it an eathquake at all, even if it did register 5.3 magnitude.<br />Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-89535281339546411402012-06-18T03:30:00.001+10:002012-06-18T03:30:36.527+10:00Wide AwakeHere it is the wee small hours and here I am awake-again. I've always been a bit of an insomniac but these days, or should that be nights, the problem seems to be worse than ever. I used to wile away the hours doing quiet housework but it seems my nocturnal floor mopping and shower scrubbing disturb the rest of the household-who could all, incidentally, sleep through a bomb exploding if it happened at seven on a weekday morning.<br />
At one time I would have indulged in a bit of fiction writing to entertain myself but the muse has left me and I don't know if she'll be back. NaNoWriMo notwithstanding.<br />
I could always read. I have a to-be-read pile that can be seen from the moon. Sadly nothing seems to be able to hold my interest for very long. My reading has been reduced to flipping through knitting patterns in doctors' waiting rooms.<br />
Speaking of knitting I finally finished last year's project (a simple moss stitch cardigan) and I'm rocketing through this year's (a Debbie Bliss Riding Jacket, I love its shape). There's nothing like big needles and thick wool to speed up a project.<br />
And so it goes on.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-26777863979603692392012-03-30T12:53:00.004+11:002012-03-30T13:04:46.054+11:00Messages from Beyond?I returned from my daily pilgrimage to Woolies (bread, milk, peas and corn) to be greeted by the light flashing away on my answering machine.<br />Typical, thinks I. I'm only gone for fifteen minutes and that's when the world wants me.<br />I press the play button and wait to hear which of my many devotees desired an audience (mum or one of my kids wanting a lift home). What I hear instead is hold music-a bad synthetic rendition of a lesser know classic. After about ten seconds an unfamiliar male voice cuts the music off with a confused "hello...hello" then the line goes dead.<br />What's happening here?<br />Bizzare crossed-line fault or mysterious voice from the other side?<br />One is more likely but the other far more interesting.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-73993489611310702432012-03-28T12:08:00.002+11:002012-03-28T12:14:49.273+11:00Missing TimeI am not addicted to Bejewelled 3.<br />I can stop playing anytime I want.<br />The reason I can't remember Sunday afternoon is because I spent it in a state of deep meditation. It may have looked like zombie-brained game playing to the ignorant and uninitiated but it was, in fact, a kind of zen type contemplation.<br />Really!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-85169120527837282012012-02-08T13:45:00.002+11:002012-02-08T13:56:43.464+11:00Improbable AssumptionsToday my copy of the Fortean Times arrived in a plain black plastic wrapper.<br />I do hope the postman, and any neighbours that saw me carrying it inside, think it was some kind of kinky porn mag.<br />It would be fun to believe, that for just a momnet, I'm not perceived as a staid, middle-aged housewife. Not that anybody around here would notice or care to speculate about the contents of my letter box-even if it was kinky porn packaged in lurid green with "SEXYMART!!!" stamped all over it.<br />Not that I've ever been to Sexymart or have any idea what colour packaging they use. I really am a staid, middle-aged housewife.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-35140062362238995392011-12-29T14:06:00.002+11:002011-12-29T14:23:43.257+11:00The Ghost of Chistmas PastThe wrapping paper is in the recycling bin, the turkey carcass has been picked clean and the final cracker pulled. Christmas has come and gone again yet somehow I feel like I missed it.<br />Maybe the magic of the season was tempered by the lack of excitable young children in the house. Teenagers might enjoy the day but they don't have that same breathless wonder they did only a few years ago.<br />Perhaps over exposure to the commercial aspects of Christmas (the shops here were pimped out in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tinsel</span> and Xmas sales from mid October) somehow <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">inoculated</span> me against the charm of the season.<br />Or could it be that the Christmas cards from far <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">flung</span> relatives still trickling in through the post box have left me with a subconscious sense of not quite reaching the big day yet.<br />Whatever the cause, Christmas left me completely <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ambivalent</span> this year.<br />I do hope it's not an indication of Christmas future.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-48340304086345694972011-12-22T06:45:00.003+11:002011-12-22T07:04:48.594+11:00Bah Humbug!It just doesn't feel like Christmas.<br />The tree is up, gifts are wrapped. There's turkey in the fridge and fruit cake on the sideboard. Shops are crowded, television is a never ending parade of Christmas "specials" and carols are being played on the streets.<br />But the Christmas spirit is yet to move me. Somehow it all feels a bit hollow.<br />I'm drifting through the season in a dream-like state not quite wanting it all to be over but not anticipating the day either.<br />What ever happened to the thrill and magic that used to accompany Christmas? When did buying and wrapping gifts stop being fun and start being work? Where did this lethargic attitude to it all come from? Will it pass before the big day arrives?<br />I'll just keep on going through the motions and see where it all leads.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-5632489408649147922011-12-07T13:32:00.003+11:002011-12-07T13:56:20.196+11:00Size MattersApparently it's true what they say, size matters.<br />At least to men, anyway.<br />That's the only explanation I can think of. Why else would my hero insist on having the biggest one?<br />I managed to convince him that something smaller would be better.<br />And he agreed, eventually.<br />But only to something slightly smaller. As it was, it only just fit into the car.<br />I must admit though that I've got used to the size much faster than I thought I would.<br />Perhaps at heart size matters to us girls more than we like to admit.<br />Though it may be that after a week of watching the tiny tv the wide screen only looks huge in comparison. On the other hand maybe it is really massive. That's what you get for letting a man choose the TV.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-56051024148569062582011-11-24T11:33:00.003+11:002011-11-24T12:06:30.788+11:00Death By DustingDuring my childhood my family moved house-a lot. I continued my nomadic existance right through to my mid twenties when having children forced me to put down roots. Which is to say, the idea of packing up a household consisting of not only myself, but also my hero and, at that point, two small children, filled me with dred and so through pure terror/laziness we bought our little house in the suburbs. I tell you of my vast number of past abodes so that you know when I say this is the dustiest house I have ever lived in, I've got a good base for comparison.<br />And this is the dustiest house I have ever lived in.<br />I'm not talking about a fine layer settling on neglected ornaments here. I'm talking about a quilt of dust as thick as the A-K yellow pages over everything. Now you might think that's to be expected if you haven't dusted in sixteen years but this particularly aggressive dust accumulates within days: certainly less than a week. I've long since surrendered to the inevitablity of the dust. Once every month or so I go into a frenzy then between times I just wipe over the electrical appliances and brush away the spider webs.<br />As an aside we have particularly diligent spiders here. Once I set up the ironing board, went away to get some water to fill the iron and by the time I got back there was a web string from the ironing board to the window sill. I have a witness. I made my hero come and assure me I wasn't seeing things. It does seem a bit unfair that we should have webs when you consider the size of the huntsmen that make their way in here. But back to the dust...<br />So yesterday I decided it was time to do some dusting. I wiped and vaccuumed and flittered about with the synthetic feathers (supposedly static to pick dust up not just blow it about). It all looked lovely, and probably will do for a few days.<br />Then last night I turned on the television. Reception was absolute rubbish-or so I thought. I put up with the flickering for a while then gave up and changed channels. Again with the bad reception. In fact every channel had a shockingly bad picture. And then-POOF! The screen went completley black.<br />We tried everything in our repetoire (basically unplugging it and plugging it back in) to no avail. Our TV was dead. Dead as a doornail.<br />I'm not sure what went wrong but I think it was the dust. The machine had probably accustomised itself to operating in a dust rich environment and then I came along and cleaned up. It just couldn't cope.<br />I'll be much more selective about my dusting in the future, that's for sure.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-47252867768611400562011-11-21T06:57:00.002+11:002011-11-21T07:02:20.244+11:00Gotcha!My men were watching the V8 Supercars on TV and I came in just as one was leaving the pits (a car that is, not the men). I paused and watched it swing back out onto the track. Then said as deadpan as I could manage, "He didn't give way."<br />The look of shock and disbelief on my hero's face was priceless, as for just a second he thought my comment was serious.<br />Oh yeah, gotcha!Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-64571916886435914492011-11-10T13:54:00.002+11:002011-11-10T14:22:45.571+11:00The Year That WasThe defining event of the past year has been My Hero's unexpected health issues. Much of the past eight months has been spent in and around hospitals and researching supplementary treatments (mainly dietary) while trying to keep things at home as routine as possible. This has meant downplaying the seriousness of My Hero's condition so as not to worry the children. With the Professor of Pedantics half way through VCE and Master of the Bleeding Obvious about to enter senior school the last thing either needs is to be worried about their father's health. Fortunately it hasn't been too difficult since he has few overt signs of illness.<br />On a happier note Boy Genius succeeded in getting a place at his first choice adult centre. He now attends <a href="http://www.sasi.org.au/autism_services.php?id=6">Beachlynn Centre</a>. He's settled in well and by all accounts really enjoys the program. Though it would take over an hour to get there via public transport, it's only about half an hour drive from home, so we bought a little car for me to ferry him out and back each day.<br />The car has also come in handy for the Professor of Pedantics to learn to drive. Yes, she got a learner's permit: and she's keener than she is skilled. At least I've got a year before Master of the Bleeding Obvious can get hers.<br />So that's the edited hilights of the year that was. It really doesn't sound like much but the time has swept by in a blur. I just keep breathing deeply and telling myself that everything is going to be just fine and so far, it has.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-43284868761626783722011-11-05T12:12:00.003+11:002011-11-05T12:48:13.065+11:00Password RecoveredSURPRISE!!!<br />For anybody still out there dropping by, you may be wondering why I haven't posted for over a year.<br />Well, the embarrassing truth is, I forgot my password and have been unable to log in, lo these many months.<br />So why didn't I use the recover password function? I tried, I really did but I am stupid. Note to self: do not make default email address for recovery password the address which you require the password to access.<br />Idiots fall down before me, for I am your queen.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-22658793840738208082010-10-06T09:35:00.001+11:002010-10-06T09:37:56.051+11:00Customer RelationsMy mattress, which has been looking rather worn for a while now, finally gave up the ghost -a little spring poking its end out of the side. This coincides with council hard rubbish collection next week and the fortuitous arrival of a flyer in my letterbox detailing a mattress sale at a local factory warehouse. I took this convergence of events to be a sign that the time was right to buy a new mattress and promptly commenced researching mattresses.<br />The prices offered by the warehouse were very good value so I took myself there.<br />I was the only customer so had the full attention of the saleswoman. She asked me what I was after and I explained the need for a firm, supportive mattress. Naturally she showed me their top line product, and though I had no intention of spending over $1000 on a mattress I sat on the bed anyway curious about how good it could possibly be. I sank in a good three inches before I felt any support and told the saleswoman that I preferred something much firmer, like the mattress I already had. And she responded in exactly the same tone, and almost the same words, as the character Barbara from the bank world adds: If you like your old mattress so much, why are you buying a new one?<br />For a nanosecond I thought she was making a joke but her face and body language said otherwise. My instinctive reaction was to take my custom elsewhere but the prices were excellent and the mischievous imp inside me instantaneously came up with a plan to have a bit of fun. Without batting an eye I answered: Because we broke ours.<br />She then proceeded to show me the rest of their range. On each mattress I lay on my back, rolled over onto my side then sat up and bounced a bit finally culminating in kneeling and swaying slightly. After the third time she asked, in the exasperated tone one would usually use with a truculent two year old:<br />Is there a reason you’re bouncing and kneeling on the beds?<br />Straight faced I reply: I have a very active sex life.<br />Like a cartoon character, her jaw almost hit the floor. I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. I selected a mattress for myself and on impulse decided to buy one for boy genius as well since his was getting on and the prices were so good. I explained I also needed a double bed mattress for my son. She once again showed me their top line model and I told her I wouldn’t be spending over $1000 on a mattress. She then showed me their most popular model. I sat on it, it felt soft yet supportive and it was very well priced so I said I’d take it. She then asked me if I wanted to lay on it and give it a bounce. I couldn’t resist, in my most appalled voice I answered: I won’t be sleeping on this one. It’s for my son.<br />I held it together long enough to pay and arrange delivery then had a good old giggle all the way home. I probably shouldn’t have teased the poor woman like that but I’ve never know such poor customer service in my life-and I’ve dealt with Myki.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-65176209340819364922010-08-26T10:31:00.002+10:002010-08-26T10:33:54.726+10:00Missed MilestoneLast Saturday the country went to the polls, for all the good it’s done. I went and did my democratic duty at the local community centre; since my hero was at work I had to take boy genius with me. As we waited in a queue that I’m sure could’ve been seen from space, we were approached by the usual suspects handing out ‘how to vote’ cards. Each and every one of them attempted to give one to boy genius and that simple act made me a little sad.<br />Boy genius turned 18 earlier this year. He’s now old enough to vote. And he never will. Even though voting is compulsory here.<br />At least he got to vicariously enjoy his first non-voting experience. He got to line up for ages on a windy grey morning and listen to the bored conversation of strangers discussing the chances of rain. He got to stand beside me in a booth while I numbered squares. But best of all, he got to post my votes in the boxes, an activity that filled him with delight the likes of which I’m sure the scrutineer didn’t see again that day.<br />Voting complete we slipped into the shopping centre next door and rewarded his good behaviour with the morning-tea of his choice and a peep at the 2011 Melways on display at the newsagent.<br /> I know some people find voting to be a pain (obviously not those people in some countries that risk grievous bodily harm or death and trek for days to reach a voting booth anyway) but just you try to take away their right to vote. Boy genius will never be able to exercise that right whether he wants to or not. He’s an adult but he’s a child, it’s a mixed blessing we live with, but the reminders occasionally make me wistful for what might have beenAndreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-32048698410715774422010-08-15T09:04:00.002+10:002010-08-15T09:12:54.347+10:00I Blame Insomnia<img style="MARGIN: 5px; FLOAT: left" src="http://jessepetersen.net/blog/wp-content/themes/marriedwithzombies/images/4-zombie-proof.jpg" /> <h4>My relationship would outlast the zombie apocalypse!</h4><p>Take the How Long Would Your Relationship Survive in the Zombie Apocalypse? Quiz at <a title="JessePetersen.net" href="http://www.jessepetersen.net/extras/quiz">JessePetersen.net</a></p><p style="CLEAR: both">This is one fun and clever piece of marketing for Petersen's book "Married with Zombies". While it's not the kind of book I would usually pick up I stumbled onto the quiz while surfing the net in the wee small hours and it's piqued my interest. It sounds fascinating and fun. Or maybe I just need more sleep.</p>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-68874851819213139822010-08-02T11:33:00.001+10:002010-08-02T11:33:55.190+10:00I Had A DreamLast night I dreamt that my washing machine was chasing me around the house.<br />It wasn’t my real washing machine and it wasn’t my real house but in the way of dreams I knew that both this white good and this residence were mine although I wouldn’t be able to identify them on waking.<br />Eventually I ran outside and hid amongst the bushes around the letterbox. Obviously not my real letterbox which stands alone at the end of the driveway because I would not plant anything that might attract bees to a place I must visit regularly, but again in the dream I knew the letterbox was mine. The washing machine eventually found me and we danced around the letterbox dodging each other. Eventually a friend appeared. Again not somebody I actually know just a generic person who my dream self identified as a friend. They distracted the washing machine while I cut off its power cord (with a handy pair of scissors that mystically materialized in my hand).<br />This did not have the desired result of stopping the washing machine dead.<br />In fact, it seemed to irritate it and I had to run off down the street with the washing machine in pursuit. And while I didn’t look back I knew the machine was morphing into something else but I’ll never know what because at that point I woke up.<br />This all probably says something deep about my psyche. Not sure what. Feel free to analyse if you care to.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218287729297784799.post-32339166927416692462010-07-16T11:49:00.004+10:002010-07-16T11:54:29.100+10:00Resolved?<span style="font-family:arial;color:#330099;">The year has hit the half way mark and I thought this might be a good time to review the progress made towards my new year’s resolutions.<br />Surprisingly enough, there is progress to be reviewed.<br />So far this year I’ve managed to see seasons 1, 2 & 3 of The Tudors in their entirety. Likewise I’ve watched all three series of Primeval completely. I’m part way through the first series of Dead Like Me and I’ve even managed to see a couple of movies I missed at the cinema (though let’s face it I miss most movies at the cinema).<br />I’m slowly working my way through my cd collection. And while there have been a couple of OMG what was I thinking (All Saints-really?) there has been much more rediscovery of old favourites (Eva Cassidy and Bryan Ferry).<br />I’m making inroads on my library list, even though said list is growing faster than I can keep up with. I’ve also finished off an anthology I’ve had sitting around partly read for 10 years, yes, that’s right ten years and now I’m working my way through another partially read collection. While I haven’t yet finished any particular series I am working my way towards the end of a couple and following up on trying new authors that have been recommended to me.<br />Attempting new recipes hasn’t happened so much as trying new recipes of old favourites. Not surprisingly we tend to prefer our version rather than the newer ones. But I have had a go at a couple of new recipes that worked well and I still intend to try my hand at others as the year wears on.<br />I’ve not made the progress on craft projects that I would have hoped for, arthritic fingers keep my knitting to snails pace and prevent me from doing any cross stitch or tapestry at all. Hopefully when things improve (which they do on occasion) I will be able to get back into things.<br />And finally, I’ve made a concerted effort to wear more of my wardrobe. It’s actually been a bit of fun. Old clothes are just like new ones if they haven’t seen the light of day for a couple of years.<br />So forward ho, into the rest of the year.</span>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12557154047107869132noreply@blogger.com0