Shaking Bed

Last 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).
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.
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.
I'd love to know what could be causing it or failing that if anybody else has experienced anything similar.

Happy New Year

I can report the year's first confirmed sighting of hot cross buns. In Woolworths at Mordialloc around 10am this morning, January 2nd.
Can anybody beat that?

I Should Never...

Paint my nails whilst drunk.
Enough said.

No Sugar Challenge

I 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.

It'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.
This threat was met with a deadpan: "They're not mess, they're an art installation."
Nice comeback.
The shoes were removed nonetheless.

No Sugar Challenge

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.
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.
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.
Why not join me and give it a go, check out the details here: Natalie Carter's No Sugar Challenge

Melbourne Eathquake

I think this picture says it all.
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.
On the plus side at least nobody was hurt and the resulting damage is mainly mess than actual destruction.
In fact I'm a bit embarrassed to call it an eathquake at all, even if it did register 5.3 magnitude.

Wide Awake

Here 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.
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.
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.
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.
And so it goes on.

Messages 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.
Typical, thinks I. I'm only gone for fifteen minutes and that's when the world wants me.
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.
What's happening here?
Bizzare crossed-line fault or mysterious voice from the other side?
One is more likely but the other far more interesting.

Missing Time

I am not addicted to Bejewelled 3.
I can stop playing anytime I want.
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.
Really!