I carry ... as little as possible. I have had the weight of the world on my shoulders from time to time, family, business, money, love life and all the usual shite! Now it's nought, zero, no baggage, no excess!
I carried boxes of lettuce, tomatoes, 20kg bags of spuds, onions and carrots - teetered around in the highest of heels , fell off them too; nobody did it better! In 1992 the back went, disks protruded, I embibed my way to surgery.
The line of the time was my back was going to the highest bidder. People up and down the east coast had been sweating on the opportunity to stab me in the back - defenses were down, someone was trying to get a start at Centrbet ... roll up, roll up. The other side readied themselves to take the already embedded steel out of my back reckoning I was crumbling under the weight of the steel ... it was a funny time!!
Seriously I've never been so scared ... surgical knives were not the type I'd expected ... a Laminectomy, wasn't that the covering on kitchen tables and benches ?????
Now the only things I carry are my head high and my back straight - it has to last me at least another 40 years! There'll be no risking it by carrying a single thing for anyone else! OK I know I look a dag dragging a tartan shopping trolley ... but I want to be capable of carrying those wings high and not let the halo slip!
Friday, 16 November 2007
No sex, No supper ...
Twenty five years ago the cry was ...
"No sex, no supper, just tupper, tupper, tupper" ... yes, I was a Tupperware demonstrator!
Never were the colours as bright, the uses as many! The lifetime guarantee still stands. From now chock-a-block cupboard of unused Tupperware doesn't fall out each time I open the door, it's been reborn, the broken seals (not lids please) have been replaced ... the realisation of just how darn good the stuff is compared to that other rubbish you buy as containers from twenty five years ago still do the job ... I'm Tupperised again ... and Tupperwaving!
... AND ... ask me if you need the number of a great demonstrator or if you need replacements! But watch out ... she'll attempt to lure you into holding a party or to return to the fold ... fat chance!
Thursday, 15 November 2007
Pick of the week Nov 14 ...
Beautiful vintage china pieces for the sideboard or the kitchen from $40.00
Stunning very retro lamp
"Oh God I'm so Bloody Blonde Sometimes" ~ Journals, Mugs, Vanity Purses from $20.00.
Pop in and visit the gorgeous girls
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
Writers Island #9 Friendship ...
The Ultimate Betrayal.
She was my best friend. I confided I surmised the husband had a girlfriend. Her advice, “give him the flick.” On Christmas Day Mother told me beware; she’d seen them kiss. Nahhhhh she’s my best friend I defended. People told me they’d seen the husband and best friend together. When asked he confirmed that he’d “bumped into her”. The love child told me the best friend had been at the house when I was working nights (the husband worked days) the husband said the love child was dreaming! I rang the husband one afternoon to ask what he’d like for dinner and was told he hadn’t been at that job for two days. I knew the best friend was off work sick! Suddenly two and two made four! I caught a bus to the best friends house, the husband’s car was parked outside! They wouldn’t answer the door so my fist went through the plate glass. She called the police I ran, I hid, I was scared. He was my true love! Other women’s men had always been out of bounds! I threw him out! They were together nine years! She loathed my children, they reminded her of me. She was a dog, once she'd been served a bowl of dog food for breakfast when she’d stayed, uninvited, overnight in a bachelor pad, I'd felt sorry for her! Shortly before he died he told the love child he’d met someone else … he never got to leave. They rarely change do they? The ex - best friend was last seen with the father of someone else’s children. No more women best friends! Diagnosis - the ultimate betrayal!
She was my best friend. I confided I surmised the husband had a girlfriend. Her advice, “give him the flick.” On Christmas Day Mother told me beware; she’d seen them kiss. Nahhhhh she’s my best friend I defended. People told me they’d seen the husband and best friend together. When asked he confirmed that he’d “bumped into her”. The love child told me the best friend had been at the house when I was working nights (the husband worked days) the husband said the love child was dreaming! I rang the husband one afternoon to ask what he’d like for dinner and was told he hadn’t been at that job for two days. I knew the best friend was off work sick! Suddenly two and two made four! I caught a bus to the best friends house, the husband’s car was parked outside! They wouldn’t answer the door so my fist went through the plate glass. She called the police I ran, I hid, I was scared. He was my true love! Other women’s men had always been out of bounds! I threw him out! They were together nine years! She loathed my children, they reminded her of me. She was a dog, once she'd been served a bowl of dog food for breakfast when she’d stayed, uninvited, overnight in a bachelor pad, I'd felt sorry for her! Shortly before he died he told the love child he’d met someone else … he never got to leave. They rarely change do they? The ex - best friend was last seen with the father of someone else’s children. No more women best friends! Diagnosis - the ultimate betrayal!
YUMI'S Dips - Gluten Free and Dairy Free and Kosher too ...
Life is complete! I've discovered the ultimate treat - Gluten free AND Dairy free and Kosher as well - especially coming up to the festive season where now it 's BYO dip!
Yumi, pronounced Yooomi, the creator of these and other delicasies is a genuis!
I saw TUNA with Caramelised Onion, Tuna with Tomato & something (no nightshades for me) and the delectable Tuna with Cracked Black Pepper & Lemon!
If their not in your local store then contact ~~~
Yumi's Fresh Quality Food 6 - 8 Arnold St, Cheltenham, Victoria 3192 Ph: 03-9585-6444.
email : sales@yumis.com.au
Pass the rice crakers please ...
Monday, 12 November 2007
Howard v Rudd ... what hope is there?
Look at this pair of shiesters ... what's going on behind those glistening, pasted on smirks, they could be related ... is this the best male talent Australia can produce ... shameful ???C'mon Australia, drop the apathy, remember what's transpired, for goodness sake vote wisely ... 12 days to go!
Seven Random and / or Weird Things about Me.
Seven Random and / or Weird Things about Me.
The very lovely Gill tagged me ...
Here are the rules:
Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
In no particular order here's the 7 about Moi.
* What you see is what you get, with no hidden agenda. If I say I'll do it, I will, if you’re in need I’m the there for you. I'm a problem solver too!
*I’m curious, I want to know WHY? Where things came from, who invented that, who said that, who are you, what does that mean, what’s the root cause plus a devourer of genealogy and women's social history.
* I cry at the drop of a hat! My girls make me blub with a gift, a kind word, a gesture or their being! I bawl at movies, seeing animals hurt, baby's born, a parade, a wedding, a funeral, a show, a concert. I cry laughing too!
*I’ve a low tolerance level ... loathe people noise, don’t stand liars, fools, whingers, perpetual ‘why me’ wallowers and negative people. If people don’t reciprocate, I’m over them! What I lack in finesse I make up for in bluntness!
* I’ve no regrets and like who I am now!
* I’m a collector – it once was people - now I seek beautiful, quirky objects, old and unusual where I can test my ability to create something out of 'nothing' - equally so out of a fridge or pantry for the unexpected uninvited!
* I see the funny side of almost everything ... love a laugh, adore making others laugh too! Life's too darn short to be miserable, get over yourself people ... my fave I'm Over It applies!
Now ... for the next 7 ... obligation free ...
Patois
Herb Urban
Alchemist
Jo
pen and the sword
Lesley
ul
If you'd prefer to decline, that's cool ... anyone who'd like to ... you're tagged!
The very lovely Gill tagged me ...
Here are the rules:
Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
In no particular order here's the 7 about Moi.
* What you see is what you get, with no hidden agenda. If I say I'll do it, I will, if you’re in need I’m the there for you. I'm a problem solver too!
*I’m curious, I want to know WHY? Where things came from, who invented that, who said that, who are you, what does that mean, what’s the root cause plus a devourer of genealogy and women's social history.
* I cry at the drop of a hat! My girls make me blub with a gift, a kind word, a gesture or their being! I bawl at movies, seeing animals hurt, baby's born, a parade, a wedding, a funeral, a show, a concert. I cry laughing too!
*I’ve a low tolerance level ... loathe people noise, don’t stand liars, fools, whingers, perpetual ‘why me’ wallowers and negative people. If people don’t reciprocate, I’m over them! What I lack in finesse I make up for in bluntness!
* I’ve no regrets and like who I am now!
* I’m a collector – it once was people - now I seek beautiful, quirky objects, old and unusual where I can test my ability to create something out of 'nothing' - equally so out of a fridge or pantry for the unexpected uninvited!
* I see the funny side of almost everything ... love a laugh, adore making others laugh too! Life's too darn short to be miserable, get over yourself people ... my fave I'm Over It applies!
Now ... for the next 7 ... obligation free ...
Patois
Herb Urban
Alchemist
Jo
pen and the sword
Lesley
ul
If you'd prefer to decline, that's cool ... anyone who'd like to ... you're tagged!
Saturday, 10 November 2007
Sunday Scribblings #84 - Left and Right
The first thing that zoomed into my head when I read the prompt was recollections of the people who've irritated the life out of me by their lack of letting their left hand know what their right hand was doing!
Yes ... I know another adage, I love an adage or two, don't know why ... easy ... I thought, everyone knows those quirky people ... you know the ones, unco-ordinated, can't get their act together ???
The ones that only tell you half the story, usually aren't organised, frequently haven't heard the whole story and mess up a task or plans ... well that's what I thought when I started this ... but curiosity led me to Google and here's the origin ...
The left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing
Meaning ~
One's varied interests are kept separate.
Origin ~
This originates from the Bible, Matthew 6:3 (King James Version)
But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.
That meaning alluded to the wisdom of not giving oneself credit for providing charity to others - just give and forget about it. That view was reiterated by Henry Thoreau in his Walden; or life in the woods, 1854:"If you should ever be betrayed into any of these philanthropies, do not let your left hand know what your right hand does, for it is not worth knowing." The original meaning of the phrase is now lost. We presently use the phrase to suggest that, in business, one should keep one's interests independent of each other.
SOoooooo ... that's blown that theory out the window ... NEXT!
Yes ... I know another adage, I love an adage or two, don't know why ... easy ... I thought, everyone knows those quirky people ... you know the ones, unco-ordinated, can't get their act together ???
The ones that only tell you half the story, usually aren't organised, frequently haven't heard the whole story and mess up a task or plans ... well that's what I thought when I started this ... but curiosity led me to Google and here's the origin ...
The left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing
Meaning ~
One's varied interests are kept separate.
Origin ~
This originates from the Bible, Matthew 6:3 (King James Version)
But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.
That meaning alluded to the wisdom of not giving oneself credit for providing charity to others - just give and forget about it. That view was reiterated by Henry Thoreau in his Walden; or life in the woods, 1854:"If you should ever be betrayed into any of these philanthropies, do not let your left hand know what your right hand does, for it is not worth knowing." The original meaning of the phrase is now lost. We presently use the phrase to suggest that, in business, one should keep one's interests independent of each other.
SOoooooo ... that's blown that theory out the window ... NEXT!
Thursday, 8 November 2007
SCRABULOUS - wordsmith's apply here ...
Calling all Scrabble players or wordsmith's ...
Have you heard of any of the following words?
TELOI
ENROLL
ENUF
POILU
DJIN
PUNA
NISI
ZONULE
FOY
MOMI
OFAY
TETRI
SUBA
DUHERI
IGGED
ABA
GENII
WANNER
REDE
ZAS
TAVS
NAVAR
MI
SEL
LININS
ELHY
ZEKS ... and the list goes on ...
This morning I got sucked in to SCRABULOUS and whilst playing 'the robot' these were some of the doozies that came up as the darn thing beat the crap out of me time and time again!
Haaaaaaaa ... what about some of these words ... ok a few have homes in lexicons ... but the rest ... ?
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
~ Picks of the week ~ 7/11
Gorgeous French blue nest of three tables ~ $350.00.
Stunning restored French country dresser, perfect for any room $1000.00.The beautiful hand made baby toys start from $20.00 each.
Black lady retro lamp $285.00 ~ Bakewell jugs from $40.00 ~
Hand made, Chenille beach/nappy bag $110.
Pop back every Wednesday for more fabularity ~~~
Tuesday, 6 November 2007
Writers Island #8 - Unforgettable: The Melbourne Cup!
Unforgettable has to be the iconic Melbourne Cup Day . This historical horse race, run on the first Tuesday in November and regarded as "the race that stops the nation" brings the majority of Australia to a stand still at 3pm, as the 3200 metres event runs. Recognized as one of the world 's greatest handicap races it is held at Flemington, a glorious suburban racecourse in Melbourne, named after a butcher who once lived there.
The first Cup was run in 1861. There were 17 starters, along with the cash prize of 170 quid, there was no 'cup' but a hand beaten gold watch and Archer, the winning horse, had walked the 500 miles / 800 kms to Melbourne from its stable in Nowra, New South Wales to compete, took home the spoils!
Since the inaugural horse race meeting in 1810 Australians have become renowned as some of the worlds greatest sports whether competing or having a punt or a wager, no matter their age someone, somewhere is running a Melbourne Cup sweep in the hope of being able to brag they had the winning horse! From school kids to the Aussie troops in Iraq and Afghanistan a flutter is a must on this day!
Whether on course or at parties across the country at race courses, restaurants, offices or puns you'll find hat's, hunks, fillies, flappers, winners, whiners, flutterers, fascinators, the fascinating and lets not forget the splurgers and the spewers! The gorgeous image of those pretty young things that consume too much champagne, too soon, seen with carrots in their fascinators often before the big race has run, being escorted from the venue by embarassed friends or foes obviously contemplating how swiftly they can remove the offenders details from their address book, never ceases to amaze.
Squillions of dollars are seen on the track in sponsorship, horse flesh and the flesh of the not so young salubrious fillies who turn the Spring Racing Carnival, of which the Melbourne Cup has become the highlight, into a major social event! It's a public holiday in the state of Victoria and many people across the country organise the day off work - Aussie's love it!
Unforgettable Melbourne Cup luncheons are advertised all over, for me it's the Peter Alexander's, a flutter via the online TAB , plus the live telecast of THE race ... now that's unforgettable!
The first Cup was run in 1861. There were 17 starters, along with the cash prize of 170 quid, there was no 'cup' but a hand beaten gold watch and Archer, the winning horse, had walked the 500 miles / 800 kms to Melbourne from its stable in Nowra, New South Wales to compete, took home the spoils!
Since the inaugural horse race meeting in 1810 Australians have become renowned as some of the worlds greatest sports whether competing or having a punt or a wager, no matter their age someone, somewhere is running a Melbourne Cup sweep in the hope of being able to brag they had the winning horse! From school kids to the Aussie troops in Iraq and Afghanistan a flutter is a must on this day!
Whether on course or at parties across the country at race courses, restaurants, offices or puns you'll find hat's, hunks, fillies, flappers, winners, whiners, flutterers, fascinators, the fascinating and lets not forget the splurgers and the spewers! The gorgeous image of those pretty young things that consume too much champagne, too soon, seen with carrots in their fascinators often before the big race has run, being escorted from the venue by embarassed friends or foes obviously contemplating how swiftly they can remove the offenders details from their address book, never ceases to amaze.
Squillions of dollars are seen on the track in sponsorship, horse flesh and the flesh of the not so young salubrious fillies who turn the Spring Racing Carnival, of which the Melbourne Cup has become the highlight, into a major social event! It's a public holiday in the state of Victoria and many people across the country organise the day off work - Aussie's love it!
Unforgettable Melbourne Cup luncheons are advertised all over, for me it's the Peter Alexander's, a flutter via the online TAB , plus the live telecast of THE race ... now that's unforgettable!
NaBloPoMo
My reward to myself after almost two days computer-less is to join up at NaBloPoMo ... OK I'm late but ... isn't it a more fun to leave the best till last?
The challenge ... to commit to blog every day for November is right up my alley!
Massive computer crack up plummeted me into the doldrums, I'm baccckkk ... nothing or no-one infectious will invade ever again ...
Now my PC is armed and dangerous ... packin' every security device known to any nerd ... I.O.U. big time MJ!
The challenge ... to commit to blog every day for November is right up my alley!
Massive computer crack up plummeted me into the doldrums, I'm baccckkk ... nothing or no-one infectious will invade ever again ...
Now my PC is armed and dangerous ... packin' every security device known to any nerd ... I.O.U. big time MJ!
Saturday, 3 November 2007
Sunday Scribblings # 83 MONEY.
Don't cringe when you hear ‘money is the root of all evil’! It's OK. Check Timothy 6:10 in the bible where the correct text is 'For the love of money is a root of all of evil.’ That was relevant at the time. To maintain such an ancient adage as the majority struggle in a world of convoluted economy is broad, unfair and outdated. Don't be scared, money equals survival, the amount depends on how well we do it. Evil comes in many forms.
Any object whether money, a writing implement, a rock, a gun, a thought or a belief in the hands of the wrong person, can lead to evil. Money or some other cultural currency has historically and traditionally been used since time began yet, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer … there’s a tradition that’s flourished! Enough deliberating ...
Instead let's start singing … Money songs ... there's oodles of them ...
Money, Money, Money by Abba … it’s OK I can hear you singing!!!! Money can’t buy my love by the Beatles, well that’s rot, of cause it can, money can buy plenty of love even with a happy ending! Anyone who says they’d rather be poor and happy, than rich and happy needs their prescription checked
What about … The Beatles' - Money (that's What I Want)? Around here an extra hundred dollars a week would ease the burden. Bob Seeger’s - Ain’t got no money … recalls the been there, done that episodes. The lyrics to Money changes everything by Cindi Lauper is spot on, change depends on wise or stupid decisions … no excuses, no blame!
But top of the pops has to be She works hard for the money by Donna Summer dedicated to decades of tote-ing that barge and lifting that bale … the consequences of being born beautiful not rich.
A money song search at Google revealed there are 354 songs on or about money ... yikes I'd forgotten to add Money makes the world go round - from Cabaret … wheeeeeeeee! But for now my fave is Simply Red’s - Money’s too tight to mention … that’s money for you ; it’s made round to go round and made flat to stack ... ka-ching!!!!
Any object whether money, a writing implement, a rock, a gun, a thought or a belief in the hands of the wrong person, can lead to evil. Money or some other cultural currency has historically and traditionally been used since time began yet, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer … there’s a tradition that’s flourished! Enough deliberating ...
Instead let's start singing … Money songs ... there's oodles of them ...
Money, Money, Money by Abba … it’s OK I can hear you singing!!!! Money can’t buy my love by the Beatles, well that’s rot, of cause it can, money can buy plenty of love even with a happy ending! Anyone who says they’d rather be poor and happy, than rich and happy needs their prescription checked
What about … The Beatles' - Money (that's What I Want)? Around here an extra hundred dollars a week would ease the burden. Bob Seeger’s - Ain’t got no money … recalls the been there, done that episodes. The lyrics to Money changes everything by Cindi Lauper is spot on, change depends on wise or stupid decisions … no excuses, no blame!
But top of the pops has to be She works hard for the money by Donna Summer dedicated to decades of tote-ing that barge and lifting that bale … the consequences of being born beautiful not rich.
A money song search at Google revealed there are 354 songs on or about money ... yikes I'd forgotten to add Money makes the world go round - from Cabaret … wheeeeeeeee! But for now my fave is Simply Red’s - Money’s too tight to mention … that’s money for you ; it’s made round to go round and made flat to stack ... ka-ching!!!!
Thursday, 1 November 2007
Ta Daaaaa ... Contours : for women on the go!
The deals done!
Nov 1 , 2007 ... a life first ... signed up ... gym membership!
The old philosophy : thin may be in, but fat's where it at ... gorn!
Now it's gym and 1200 calories a day ... why??
In the words of my guru buddy of mine you don't see old fat people ...
The goal ... to grow up to be a centenarian!
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
~ picks of the week ~ 31/10
Beautiful cushions from $30 ~ Bedspeads from $95
Stunning Yellow 1930s yellow jug / vase $125
Royal Doulton coffee set with sugar bowl and creamer $125Every Wednesday I'll show you 3 more picks!
Thanks to Leigh from Found, now home for her fabulous idea.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
Writers Island #7 - "Haunted"
Are other islanders haunted by people who miss the point?
You know the ones ...
When you tell a story they only see it as an opportunity to one up you, to tell you something that’s usually not relevant … Ooops sorry, how dare I, their mind is racing to blurt their thoughts … the ones that prattle on without one iota of what you’ve said, what you need or what you’re about?
By people who instead of handing out praise, can’t wait to regale you with something they believe is of a similar consequence?
By people who make everything about them – see previous two paragraphs!
By people who don’t see the funny side, who see the majority of life shrouded by doom and gloom?
By people who “don’t get it”… whether a trend, a tradition, anything unique, kooky, eccentric, with a smidge of individuality, or the bizarre … stuff that zooms, whooooshes over the top of their selfish noggins.
So … who we gonna call … Ghostbusters?
You know the ones ...
When you tell a story they only see it as an opportunity to one up you, to tell you something that’s usually not relevant … Ooops sorry, how dare I, their mind is racing to blurt their thoughts … the ones that prattle on without one iota of what you’ve said, what you need or what you’re about?
By people who instead of handing out praise, can’t wait to regale you with something they believe is of a similar consequence?
By people who make everything about them – see previous two paragraphs!
By people who don’t see the funny side, who see the majority of life shrouded by doom and gloom?
By people who “don’t get it”… whether a trend, a tradition, anything unique, kooky, eccentric, with a smidge of individuality, or the bizarre … stuff that zooms, whooooshes over the top of their selfish noggins.
So … who we gonna call … Ghostbusters?
Martha Stewart ... custard powder.
One of the most annoying things about cable TV is the repetition of the shows! However they redeem themselves by repeating Martha Stewart three time a day making it possible to catch the show in serial mode!
I'm flabbergasted having just heard Martha didn't know about custard powder! Delicious Tangerine Pie, baked by Pichet Ong has it in the recipe ... here.
Good grief, Martha do you know what you've been missing???
Custard powder has been the sweet / dessert staple of every Aussie pantry for generations. The instant dessert, a treat for the kids, always there when ice cream ran out or when money was short. When unexpected visitors stayed for dinner, warm custard and tinned peaches was the stand bydessert! What about when we sliced day old sponge dowsed with slurps of cooking sherry, topped with chopped jelly and custard poured over the top - Ohhhhhhhhhh Yummo ... Trifle ... sweet memories!
A Halloween Treat.
The gorgeous Gill sent me a surprise Halloween Treat.The point of these is to pass them on to new random visitors to your blog to make new friends.
So in the spirit of the tradition I'm sending it to Jo, Robin, and Tumblewords.
Happy Halloween everyone!
Sunday, 28 October 2007
Life is just a bowl of cherries ...
Life is just a bowl of cherries ... till someone gives you the pip.
Rudy Valee first recorded it in 1931 - then many more singers after ...
Saturday, 27 October 2007
Sunday Scribblings #82 - Hospital
Hospital memories abound, emotions unravelled by this prompt.
Top teeth removed at twelve, baby removed at seventeen, visiting mother year after year, over and over again. From mid 1960s memories became happier. Not ovulating didn’t deter. Twelve months on, the cherished arrival of a beautiful baby. Mother kept the hospital system going for over forty years as she envisioned cancer, sadly it arrived.
A laminectomy, hemithyroidectomy, appendix, frozen shoulder, father crying wolf, lessons learnt; treat medico’s as real people, they’ll treat you that way in return!
The very best hospital memories will always be :
During the 60s & 70s Vince Edwards as Dr Ben Casey what about Dr Zorba ?
Richard Chamberlain as Dr. Kildare.
Robert Young as Marcus Welby M.D. with James Brolin as Dr Steven Kiley.
Medical Center with James Daly as Dr. Paul Lochner and Chad Everett as Dr. Joe Gannon.
1970 – 1983 M*A*S*H.
Doogie Howser, M.D. from 1989- 1993
Chicago Hope
General Hospital that's run forever ...
ER began 1994 … is it still running?
In Australia in the 70s The Young Doctors, in the 80s A Country Practice, in 2000 RPA.
Now TV brings us Hugh Laurie as House or the team from Scrubs … there’s enough hospital in both of those sitcoms to last a lifetime!
p.s. Thanks to Gill for the Greys Anatomy reminder ... how did I miss that one after Izzy's heartbreaking performance? Thanks too to Paisley - I don't remember getting St. Elsewhere in Australia ... but then I was elsewhere in those days!!
Top teeth removed at twelve, baby removed at seventeen, visiting mother year after year, over and over again. From mid 1960s memories became happier. Not ovulating didn’t deter. Twelve months on, the cherished arrival of a beautiful baby. Mother kept the hospital system going for over forty years as she envisioned cancer, sadly it arrived.
A laminectomy, hemithyroidectomy, appendix, frozen shoulder, father crying wolf, lessons learnt; treat medico’s as real people, they’ll treat you that way in return!
The very best hospital memories will always be :
During the 60s & 70s Vince Edwards as Dr Ben Casey what about Dr Zorba ?
Richard Chamberlain as Dr. Kildare.
Robert Young as Marcus Welby M.D. with James Brolin as Dr Steven Kiley.
Medical Center with James Daly as Dr. Paul Lochner and Chad Everett as Dr. Joe Gannon.
1970 – 1983 M*A*S*H.
Doogie Howser, M.D. from 1989- 1993
Chicago Hope
General Hospital that's run forever ...
ER began 1994 … is it still running?
In Australia in the 70s The Young Doctors, in the 80s A Country Practice, in 2000 RPA.
Now TV brings us Hugh Laurie as House or the team from Scrubs … there’s enough hospital in both of those sitcoms to last a lifetime!
p.s. Thanks to Gill for the Greys Anatomy reminder ... how did I miss that one after Izzy's heartbreaking performance? Thanks too to Paisley - I don't remember getting St. Elsewhere in Australia ... but then I was elsewhere in those days!!
Thursday, 25 October 2007
What's that noise ... thunder roared, lightning flashed!
A whopper storm here tonight ... Blossom before she fled!
Stairway to health ...
Allow me to introduce the stairway to health.Joining was overridden by undiscipline along with the prospect of climbing those steep stairs!
A comment from MJ did it!
Stairs conquered, committment, membership signed, exercise regimen in place, the stairs are being done three times a week ... it's on!
Goodbye fatness ... Hello fabularity!!!
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Writers Island - The Stranger ...
Originally it was a bombastic, belligerent, white haired, middle aged oaf, whose double dose of psoriasis left a cloud of skin in his wake, his voice, if used in the correct environment would have made elderly ladies swoon, he had an unmatchable bad temper, a white Holden ute, that he’d periodically try to set on fire to claim insurance as well as girlfriend over 20 years younger, diagnosed legally blind, yet could make it up the road, across a main busy street to the bus stop without the aid of a white stick or a Labrador dog and manage to hail and get on the right bus. He lauded over the building, hoarded white goods and building material and specifically intended to intimidate. One night there was a thunderous thud, the clanking of falling saucepans, then not a sound. Next day he was found dead with his head in the saucepan rack. His name came out of the freezer.
Next was a very tall, quietly spoken, gentle, grey haired man, a large pimple protruding on the left side of his nose. He arrived in an old ford Fairlane, his possessions rolled in a blanket, a very fat black and white cat under his arm. During the day he pounded a typewriter and only took a break to carry the timid, fat cat down the stairs for a loo break. Bowls of cat food littered the building. Consequently the fat cat died probably just prior to exploding – one more morsel of dry cat food would have done it. The local vet decided he’d be a good father to a rescued three-legged kitty. They became as father and son. One night father fell asleep on the lounge, rescued during a council clean up. His snoring droned through the building. Next morning there was silence, no sound, or sighting of him, no one bothered, it was a long weekend he must have gone away. Three days later he was found dead, his head embellishing the cheap carpet. Three months on he’s still in the morgue as police endeavour to locate next of kin.
Hopes rose when a little, middle-aged woman moved in. A tiny thing, four feet eleven with a story she’d had to relocate due to parties and drug use. The stories grew. The first one was a box of her possessions were stolen from the building vestibule as she moved in. The next day she invited a another neighbour in, she left to hang out washing, leaving him there. She claimed her library books and a twenty-dollar note went missing. Next day she was bashed and robbed walking through a local park. She was drunk when she told the tale, saying she didn’t usually drink and had taken up smoking again after eight years. She confabulates. The following day she was still blotto. That night she entertained a bloke who’s begged from the local bus seat every day for the past five years. He has schizophrenia, severely crippled and uses two arm canes to drag his callipered legs behind him. The local shopkeeper’s and publican change the coins he collects as he spends up on booze and poker machines. His eye-sight must be deteriorating as he knocked on the wrong door seeking “a young lady who moved in a couple of weeks ago.” No doubt the promise of more than a roast dinner inspired him to drag his crumpled body up the thirty stairs to the lair. Bumping and humping echoed through the building till the wee small hours as flailing bones and callipers collided.
Neighbours … the stranger they are the more writer’s fodder they provide!
Next was a very tall, quietly spoken, gentle, grey haired man, a large pimple protruding on the left side of his nose. He arrived in an old ford Fairlane, his possessions rolled in a blanket, a very fat black and white cat under his arm. During the day he pounded a typewriter and only took a break to carry the timid, fat cat down the stairs for a loo break. Bowls of cat food littered the building. Consequently the fat cat died probably just prior to exploding – one more morsel of dry cat food would have done it. The local vet decided he’d be a good father to a rescued three-legged kitty. They became as father and son. One night father fell asleep on the lounge, rescued during a council clean up. His snoring droned through the building. Next morning there was silence, no sound, or sighting of him, no one bothered, it was a long weekend he must have gone away. Three days later he was found dead, his head embellishing the cheap carpet. Three months on he’s still in the morgue as police endeavour to locate next of kin.
Hopes rose when a little, middle-aged woman moved in. A tiny thing, four feet eleven with a story she’d had to relocate due to parties and drug use. The stories grew. The first one was a box of her possessions were stolen from the building vestibule as she moved in. The next day she invited a another neighbour in, she left to hang out washing, leaving him there. She claimed her library books and a twenty-dollar note went missing. Next day she was bashed and robbed walking through a local park. She was drunk when she told the tale, saying she didn’t usually drink and had taken up smoking again after eight years. She confabulates. The following day she was still blotto. That night she entertained a bloke who’s begged from the local bus seat every day for the past five years. He has schizophrenia, severely crippled and uses two arm canes to drag his callipered legs behind him. The local shopkeeper’s and publican change the coins he collects as he spends up on booze and poker machines. His eye-sight must be deteriorating as he knocked on the wrong door seeking “a young lady who moved in a couple of weeks ago.” No doubt the promise of more than a roast dinner inspired him to drag his crumpled body up the thirty stairs to the lair. Bumping and humping echoed through the building till the wee small hours as flailing bones and callipers collided.
Neighbours … the stranger they are the more writer’s fodder they provide!
Sunday, 21 October 2007
The Osbourne's garage sale to end all garage sales ...
Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne are holding the garage sale to end all garage sales on November 30.
More than 600 lots of memorabilia, jewellery, costumes, paintings and furniture from their Gothic-style house in Beverly Hills, their Malibu home and their British mansion in Buckinghamshire will be auctioned on November 30 and December 1.
The sale will raise funds for the Sharon Osbourne Colon Cancer Foundation.
A garagesaler's dream!
More than 600 lots of memorabilia, jewellery, costumes, paintings and furniture from their Gothic-style house in Beverly Hills, their Malibu home and their British mansion in Buckinghamshire will be auctioned on November 30 and December 1.
The sale will raise funds for the Sharon Osbourne Colon Cancer Foundation.
A garagesaler's dream!
A Ewan McGregor weekend ...
It's been a Ewan McGregor weekend here after my Moulin Rouge find yesterday.
I found Ewan and Charlie well into their Long Way Round journey on the Lifetsyle channel last night. The episode showed they're over the hump, with only 15 days to go. Ewan was adorable as he pined to see "his Ev and his wee gels" after one hundred days on the road.
They were on Andrew Denton's Enough Rope a couple of weeks ago where viewers led to believe the journey to be a recent venture - it was in 2004. I could feel ripped off, but Ewan's charm, personality, good looks and genuine -osity make it all worth while!
It's a brilliant, gutsy travelogue if your butt can stand it!
I found Ewan and Charlie well into their Long Way Round journey on the Lifetsyle channel last night. The episode showed they're over the hump, with only 15 days to go. Ewan was adorable as he pined to see "his Ev and his wee gels" after one hundred days on the road.
They were on Andrew Denton's Enough Rope a couple of weeks ago where viewers led to believe the journey to be a recent venture - it was in 2004. I could feel ripped off, but Ewan's charm, personality, good looks and genuine -osity make it all worth while!
It's a brilliant, gutsy travelogue if your butt can stand it!
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Moulin Rouge prop - a garage sale find.
The movie Moulin Rouge is on my list of favourites, as are all things French.At a garage sale today I spied this large, heavy, framed board covered with old French papers. Imagine my surprise when the owner told me it was a prop from the movie Moulin Rouge and I could have it for $5. I couldn't get the cash out fast enough.
OK, all you cynics ... I know it's only a piece of MDF painted to look old, that the majority of the papers are mostly copies, but I adore it ... and look at the white piece in the centre.
It's the "order of acts" performing at the Moulin Rouge in the movie.
Scene 4 : Madmoiselle Satine : the character played by Nicole Kidman ... provenance ?
I adore a little touch of 1890s gay Paree, it's going on a wall here ... if I can find a spot!
Ahhh ... if only the gorgeous Ewan McGregor had been holding the board ... Ooooo La La!
Thursday, 18 October 2007
Sunday Scribblings #81 - My first act as Queen of the World will be ...
My first act as Queen of the World will be to put red headed women in charge ... of everything!
They'll get three months to sort out the world wide mess and then ... if successful the world will be a better place ... if unsuccessful it'll be either off with their heads or I'll abdicate.
I'll get back to you about plan B.
As you were!
p.s ... 12 hours later, in the light of day, I renegue, there's not enough redheads or hair dye in the world to fix the global schmozzle - sorry!
They'll get three months to sort out the world wide mess and then ... if successful the world will be a better place ... if unsuccessful it'll be either off with their heads or I'll abdicate.
I'll get back to you about plan B.
As you were!
p.s ... 12 hours later, in the light of day, I renegue, there's not enough redheads or hair dye in the world to fix the global schmozzle - sorry!
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
Writers Island "Message in a Bottle"
In 1979 UK band The Police released their second album Regatta de Blance and the track “Message in a Bottle” was a huge hit in Australia, #1 in the United Kingdom only reached #74 in the US. The song was about an island castaway, who sends off a help message in a bottle. Later he finds a hundred million bottles washed up on the shore line indicating there are many people out there like him. The metaphors of the island, the bottle and the discovery he is not alone were the theme of the song …
The words are …
Just a castaway,
an island lost at sea, oh
Another lonely day, with no one here but me, oh
More loneliness than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair, oh
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
A year has passed since I wrote my note
But I should have known this right from the start
Only hope can keep me together
Love can mend your life but
Love can break your heart
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Walked out this morning, dont believe what I saw
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems Im not alone at being alone
Hundred billion castaways, looking for a home
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets myMessage in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s...
The message in the bottle prompt reminds me of life, of past imbibing seeking the answers to life. The resemblances of writing, of savouring the flavour, a beginning, a middle, an end signify that the message in the bottle need not necessarily be a note, a written message but that the message might be contained in, or the consequence of, the liquid contents.
Symbolizing a beginning a full bottle could represent anticpation: a new adventure, an experience, of a tantalising aroma, as bubbles tingle your nose plus the prospect of what the contents might unleash.
The middle of the bottle heightens the senses. Calming, aggravating or relaxing sensations begin to appear. Devouring the contents alters feelings, perceptions, sometimes heading towards a danger zone – is the bottle half full or half empty?
The end as you drain the the final dregs climaxes in either sadness or elation! The message is consumed. What you’re left with is the prospect of the next chapter, of the next bottle, of the next message … or no relevance, everything out of perspective, plus a mighty hangover looming!
Do you want ice with that?
The words are …
Just a castaway,
an island lost at sea, oh
Another lonely day, with no one here but me, oh
More loneliness than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair, oh
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
A year has passed since I wrote my note
But I should have known this right from the start
Only hope can keep me together
Love can mend your life but
Love can break your heart
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Walked out this morning, dont believe what I saw
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems Im not alone at being alone
Hundred billion castaways, looking for a home
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets myMessage in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Message in a bottle, yeah
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s.
Sending out at an s.o.s...
The message in the bottle prompt reminds me of life, of past imbibing seeking the answers to life. The resemblances of writing, of savouring the flavour, a beginning, a middle, an end signify that the message in the bottle need not necessarily be a note, a written message but that the message might be contained in, or the consequence of, the liquid contents.
Symbolizing a beginning a full bottle could represent anticpation: a new adventure, an experience, of a tantalising aroma, as bubbles tingle your nose plus the prospect of what the contents might unleash.
The middle of the bottle heightens the senses. Calming, aggravating or relaxing sensations begin to appear. Devouring the contents alters feelings, perceptions, sometimes heading towards a danger zone – is the bottle half full or half empty?
The end as you drain the the final dregs climaxes in either sadness or elation! The message is consumed. What you’re left with is the prospect of the next chapter, of the next bottle, of the next message … or no relevance, everything out of perspective, plus a mighty hangover looming!
Do you want ice with that?
Saturday, 13 October 2007
The 700 Habits of Highly Ineffective People by Jonathon Biggins.
Here it is people - forget The Secret, the DVD of which I bought at an op shop for two bucks this week, here's the self-help answer!
Jonathon Biggins latest book The 700 Habits of Highly Ineffective People delivers highly ineffective keys to unlock your true potential 'by studying the 700 habits of losers who are even further down the food chain than you are, your own sense of self-worth can be elevated to a higher plane.'
Now you're talking !!!
In a recent article in the always informative Good Weekend magazine cortesy of Sydney Morning Herald Biggins penned a marvellous dissertation about his new book including tips on how to help yourself outside the self-help movement! This gem is chockers with good old commonsense that shows the wasteful and niggling habits that success-challenged people fall into in their personal, business and creative lives.
Biggins asserts that the self help and acutalisation movement in the US alone is worth $US8.56 billion a year ... also that Professor John Norcross of Pennsylvania's University of Scranton as saying "Ten percent of self-help books are rated by mental health professionals as damaging, The Secret is probably one of them"
Ironically the greatest triumph of the self-help movement is to reinforce our feelings of inadequacy. It offers a dubious solution when in fact it's a large part of the problem. It's relentless cry of improve is a skilfully marketed echo of politicans and captains of industry as they exhort us, usually from the relative comfort of a waterfront address, to increase productivity. WHY? So we can consume more of the product ...
So Biggins has penned his own contribution to the genre - a self help manual for the completely helpless, for those who think proactive is some kind of dietry fibre supplement. It's a system called Passive Improvement (TM), a revolutionary concept that precludes any effort of emulating the habits of winners when you can simply lose the habits of losers ... just by reading 700 Habits and not forming any of them you will immediately become a better person!!! If you're a procrastinator, buy it tomorrow ...
This is it - the self-help book that makes you a better person by telling you what not to do!
Jonathon Biggins latest book The 700 Habits of Highly Ineffective People delivers highly ineffective keys to unlock your true potential 'by studying the 700 habits of losers who are even further down the food chain than you are, your own sense of self-worth can be elevated to a higher plane.'
Now you're talking !!!
In a recent article in the always informative Good Weekend magazine cortesy of Sydney Morning Herald Biggins penned a marvellous dissertation about his new book including tips on how to help yourself outside the self-help movement! This gem is chockers with good old commonsense that shows the wasteful and niggling habits that success-challenged people fall into in their personal, business and creative lives.
Biggins asserts that the self help and acutalisation movement in the US alone is worth $US8.56 billion a year ... also that Professor John Norcross of Pennsylvania's University of Scranton as saying "Ten percent of self-help books are rated by mental health professionals as damaging, The Secret is probably one of them"
Ironically the greatest triumph of the self-help movement is to reinforce our feelings of inadequacy. It offers a dubious solution when in fact it's a large part of the problem. It's relentless cry of improve is a skilfully marketed echo of politicans and captains of industry as they exhort us, usually from the relative comfort of a waterfront address, to increase productivity. WHY? So we can consume more of the product ...
So Biggins has penned his own contribution to the genre - a self help manual for the completely helpless, for those who think proactive is some kind of dietry fibre supplement. It's a system called Passive Improvement (TM), a revolutionary concept that precludes any effort of emulating the habits of winners when you can simply lose the habits of losers ... just by reading 700 Habits and not forming any of them you will immediately become a better person!!! If you're a procrastinator, buy it tomorrow ...
This is it - the self-help book that makes you a better person by telling you what not to do!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
