Monthly Archives: April 2009

ACT, Random

The George and the camera affair

5 Comments

sky

You know, usually, when you leave something in a taxi, you get that sick dread feeling that you’ll never see it again.

That’s how I felt when I realised getting ready tonight that I didn’t have my camera.

I’d even done a cursory check of the backseat to make sure I’d left nothing behind… it was like I knew…

Luckily I had a card from the taxi company and I called them…

I couldn’t tell them the taxi number or driver’s name or even the exact time I was in the cab.

All I remembered was that we’d been at the National Portrait Gallery and that the driver was from Queensland.

Anyway the guy on the enquiries line was quite sweet and he took down my number and promised to send out a message to the fleet.
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I didn’t hold out much hope and tried not to think about how I was going to explain to Groover that I had lost his camera.

To my great surprise, not an hour later they had found it!

It had fallen to the floor of the cab and George, the cab driver brought it round to me while we were still at dinner.

Doesn’t it just give you faith in people again?

Yay Canberra!  You rock.

Even if some of your taxi’s could do with a little TLC.

taxi

npgroof

hotelrydges

ACT

White sheets and small shampoo bottles

7 Comments

No surprises with the title of this post that you find your correspondent ensconsed in a hotel room.

In Canberra.  The bush capital.

So much a bush capital that I spied a dead kangaroo on one of the medium strips on the way in from the airport.  It looked odd on the lush green lawn of the strip, I’m more used to seeing them on the soft gravel edge of a country highway.

I wonder if they’ll clear it away before the dawn breaks…

I haven’t spent a lot of time in Canberra.

Are there shops?

I assume there must be but I didn’t see anything but office blocks on the way to the hotel.

There’s not a lot of neon in Canberra.
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The hotel room is very nice.  The sheets are crisp and white.  The bed – king-sized – is on a raised dais.  I feel as if I’m on the set of a porn film.

A very beige porn film with a contrasting throw over the foot of the bed.

And that’s appropriate as Canberra is the porn capital of Australia as well isn’t it.

It’s hard to imagine frankly.

Apart from the raised dais and the king-sized bed, the neat streets, dead kangaroos notwithstanding, seem an unlikely location for vice.

I’m here for two days.  Any suggestions for fun things to do?  Places to shop?

Not porn, though, thanks.

Bridge, WA

Avon Adventure

2 Comments

The Toodyay Memorial Hall

One of the things I learned on a trip to Bath in the UK was that “avon” is the Celtic word for “river”.

Thus when the Romans asked the ancient Britons what that river was called – they called it the Avon.

This is why there are so many Avon Rivers in the United Kingdom and why we have one in our ex-British colony of Western Australia.

It amuses me to think of it.

I had cause the other weekend as I travelled to Toodyay for the annual Avon Valley Bridge Congress with Arty.

Pastor Ed Young founded the Fellowship Church the best viagra continues to grow at a rapid rate. These viagra properien online health groups and forums work actively nowadays. levitra 20mg uk The reward is often more green pixie dust on your pagerank toolbar. This problem is very much common these days which is ED that is erectile cialis tablets 20mg dysfunction. It was perfect Sunday drive weather and the scenary – dry and brown – flew by as we sipped our take-away coffees and caught up on ten years of gossip.

There is nothing like bridge gossip.  

The bridge world is rather small.

We had a lovely day.

We spent money in the shops, made the final, and enjoyed a delicious Polish meal on return to Perth.

Toodyay Pioneer

The Freemason's Hotel, Toodyay

Toodyay Shops

Uncategorized

The Art of Consipicuous Parenting

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Colonial Brewery

Have you ever heard a parent say in company:

“Say ‘Thank you’.” 

If the  parent’s voice is slightly louder than necessary – that’s conspicuous parenting.

Take today.

We were on our normal walk that we haven’t done for several weeks due to slackness.

A young mother was blocking the path.  

She was crouched down next to her young child, pointing at the sky:

“Look at the sky darling!” She crooned. “What colour is the sky?!”

“Pink?”

Conspicuous parenting FAIL.

You hear it all the time…

“What do you say darling?”*

It’s not that I haven’t been guilty of the odd bit of CP myself.
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I have taught my kids to say “Thanks Mum! You are the greatest!” when I do something for them.

Frankly I’m pleased when they go out of the house with their shorts on the right way.

But when is conspicuous parenting just good parenting?

I was thinking about the parent who brings along a little container of chopped up raw vegetables for her child to munch at a restaurant or party.

Is that conspicuous?  No.  That’s just good.

The conspicuous parent pretends they would normally only feed their child raw vegies and allows them to have chips.

“OK darling, but just this time, chips are an ‘occasional’ food…”

Yeah right… bet the kid gets them every night next to their fish fingers.

So go on, ‘fess up, what’s your example of conspicuous parenting?

* Which reminds me of that joke:

Child: Can I have some more icecream?

Parent: What do you say darling?

Child: Can I have some more icecream now?

Random

The best business card

9 Comments

Do you want my business?

This guy does:

waste1

Yes.  The pun is cute and I admit I’m a sucker for puns, but what really got me was the reason for the P.T.O.*

waste2

Now wouldn’t you call him?
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I feel good thinking about how good he feels about what he does. 

(I also like the “Pooh Mobile” truck)

I’m thinking of handwriting a whole heap of messages on the back of MY business cards… a slightly different message.

DON’T call me if your loo backs up.

Dippity, School

The sound of silence

2 Comments

shhh

What I love about the school curriculum these days – no matter it be private or public – is the onus on public service.

I don’t remember it being part of my education.

There are heaps of fundraisers of course but the kids are also required to complete a certain number of hours of community service.

Hugamuga for example teaches computer skills to elderly people.  Dippity has sat on the gate of a community fair collecting money.

The thing with community work is when you do it you realise that you feel SO good which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised when Dippity came to me with  a handmade sponsorship sheet and a promise not to speak for 24 hours.

Win-win I thought.

🙂
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She came up with it herself and convinced some mates to join her.  She got permission from her teachers and went for it.

They raised about $140.

We had a very quiet night.

Community service… it’s a good thing.

UPDATE: For those of you who are interested here is the Education Department Policy.

As part of the Community Service Program students must complete a minimum of 20 hours of service in the community. Students complete their community service between Years 10 and 12.

From 2009, completion of 20 hours of service will be one of the requirements for achieving the WACE for Year 12 students. 

Schools provide students with a variety of ways in which they can complete their 20 hours of service through the Community Service Program.

Uncategorized

Flu preparation

3 Comments

essoils

I’m getting ready for Flu Season.

I’ve booked in for a flu shot (April 30), free at my workplace.

And I’ve made up my flu prevention essential oil mix… which is also nice to use if you have a cold or flu.

I have great faith in my mix.  I use it all the time.  

At the slightest and I mean slightest sniffle I’m putting a drop on my tongue and rubbing it into my skin, breathing it in.

I didn’t get flu last year but more impressively I didn’t get flu when the rest of the family came down with it in the US (and I hadn’t had a flu shot).

I’m a believer.

I’m not as sure about the flu shot.  

I didn’t get the flu last year and I had the shot so I’m going to do it again.
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A colleague surprised me by saying… “Hmmm I’m not sure I don’t want the flu… a week in bed sounds nice…”

That would be okay only if you had the flu symptoms during the day.  

It would be annoying if getting the flu interfered with your life.

And why is it that I get a cold just as someone has a baby so I can’t go and visit them?

It’s happens all the time.

Am I allergic to babies?

Not going to happen this year peeps – I’m armed and dangerous.

I’ve got my brother’s baby to visit in May and a (almost) sister’s baby to cuddle in August.

Hmmm and those essential oils smell SOOOOO good.

Etiquette

I’d rather they smoke

5 Comments

I hate it when people smoke around me – I hate it.

It makes my hair smell, my clothes smell.  I feel dirty.  I could be getting lung cancer.

So who made me say to Groover over lunch on Sunday: “I’d rather they smoke”?

A group of mothers with babies.

babywoe

No they weren’t breastfeeding.

Well they may have been but I don’t find that offensive, just normal.

And I don’t have a problem with lactating women going out to share a Sunday lunch of fish and chips with their friends.   No really, good on them.

What I do have a problem with is trying to sip my lemon, lime and bitters with the cloying smell of Johnson & Johnson babywipes mixed with baby poo wafting over me.

SERIOUSLY GROSS PEOPLE!

We’d got there late.

The pub was full to overflowing and the only table free was one in the corner next to a large table of mums and babies.

Personally I’d rather sit near the lactation crowd than a bunch of yobbos or even parents with active 4 year olds, so I was pleased when they pulled their stroller closer to them, unblocking the path to the table, and we sat down.

“Ohhhh isn’t she cute”, I said to Groover as we sipped our drinks (Does one sip beer… should I say slurped?), “Remember when ours were that little…”

We gazed fondly over at the crowd as we relived those fast dimming memories, and I also reflected on playgroup lunches… the sort you have when you become a member of the Bub Club.

Hugamuga was at work, and Dippity was volunteering at a local fair so we relished this unexpected opportunity for a middle-of-the-day date.

We started chatting about this and that… Groover’s new business, holiday fantasies, what we were going to do over Easter, the grocery shopping…

When…
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“What is that smell?”

I was back – 11 years ago – that revoltingly familiar poo/babywipe combination.

I couldn’t taste the lemon or the lime or the bitters.

The window above our table was locked shut.

The stroller had slid back between the tables.

I was trapped.

And the mother had laid her baby down on the padded bench seat and was changing it’s nappy.

At the table.

In the restaurant.

While other people were eating.

How can she think that’s okay?

On which planet is that okay?

Tell me I’m not alone in thinking that there are places to change baby’s nappies and peak hour dining on a Sunday afternoon is NOT one of them!

I’d have honestly preferred her to light up a cigarette.

For one, the smell would not have been so offensive.

And also, I’d have felt less inhibited about telling her to stop.

Mothers.  They can be intimidating.  I know.  I am one.

Hugamuga, Parenting

A working boy

10 Comments

rooster1

My boy started work at Red Rooster last night.  I am so proud of him.

I can’t remember being so industrious when I was 14- all those years ago.

Yesterday he got up at 6am to finish his paper round before school started at 8am.  After a full day at school he arrived home on the train at 3.30pm, in time for a quick snack before showing up on time at work at 4pm.  I picked him up at 10pm, after a six hour shift.

Of course I couldn’t resist going in to buy chicken.

I arrived at peak hour – about 7pm – and there was a huge queue going through the drive through.  Inside, the queue reached the door.

Hugamuga was behind the till – looking very serious – concentrating very hard on getting the money right.

He was on his own!

No Trainee badge.

Occasionally both of his hands would touch his head but he was keeping it together – people were getting their food and paying their money.

I asked for a whole chicken.  This was good I found out because it is on the quick-list. 🙂

I got my chicken, I left.
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My heart was full.

He’s  very loyal our boy.  He got the job with Red Rooster first so even though he hadn’t started, when Coles rang, offering him a better paid gig with better hours, he said he had committed to another employer already.

I think I have raised a better person than myself.

I did exactly the opposite when I got the job with my current employer. 

The day they rang I was supposed to be heading down to Katanning to find accommodation for a job with the Department of Agriculture as an advisor.  The farmers down there definitely dodged a bullet!

I wonder how my life would have turned out if I had accepted the Katanning gig?

Maybe I would have married a farmer.

Although, I would have still been at that nightclub in Fremantle that fateful night back in 1990… so maybe not.

But enough about me.

Today I get to be a proud mother. 

Go Hugamuga!

rooster