Memories of Dogs and Dresses

Hello, dear people! Today I thought I'd take a take a delightful stroll down memory lane and recall the dogs I've loved and dresses I've worn. Why not? 

Incongruous perhaps, but that's how my mind works. Or doesn't work, as the case may be. Details. 

DOGS

Samantha

My devotion to dogs began early. At the age of around 3 or 4 mum and dad bundled my brother and I into the old Datsun 1200 and we drove to my auntie's place at Fairfleld.  My cousins were getting a puppy and we decided to do the same. Why not get one from the same adorable litter? 

Enter, Samantha the sausage dog.

Samantha and I circa 1981

She had to be Samantha because Bewitched was my favourite show at the time. Side note: let's take a minute to also appreciate my mum's glorious garden and my original shade of red hair (see above). It's hard to believe I was bullied and called a red headed rat rooter (among other things) because of it! 

Things I remember regarding Samantha:

• Singing the Olivia Newton John song Sam (badly) to her
• She went ballistic when the milkman came to deliver milk (remember those?!) Later we discovered he'd been unkind to her. And she wasn't about to cow down. Not our Samantha! 
• I believe I tried to smuggle her into my bed once. Mum was very house proud and dogs were not allowed on beds! 
• She loved food and became quite portly at one stage.
• Eventually she was plagued with the back issues that effect the breed and passed away.  That was a devestating day for us all. 
• She was truly unique. I know everyone thinks this about their dog but she was! Of all the dogs I've loved she was definitely the most intelligent. I swear she understood everything you said as if she was human. But better. Cause everyone knows dogs are better than humans. 

Skippa and Penny 

Left: Samantha and I circa 197?
Right: Penny, Skippa and I circa 1985ish

To be honest I can't remember which of this duo came first. They had a litter of puppies together. Skippa also had the same back issues, but Penny plodded into old age and keeled over in my parents backyard one day. They were both sweethearts. 

Betsy and Jake

My parents didn't have any more dogs for a while. Then they got a beautiful beagle named Maggie. By then I was out of the house,  married to Mickey Blue Eyes. Maggie had a litter of puppies and I wanted one. Enter, Betsy.  I earnestly promised Mick I'd  pick up after her etc. Spoiler alert: I didn't. Oops. 

My beautiful Betsy girl

Now in the meantime we had also ended up with Jake. A little yappy overgrown rat. Betsy and Jake were quite funny together and chased each other around the outside of the house. Watching their antics was hilarious. 

Admittedly, I had a love/hate relationship with Jake but Mick adored him. He yapped his little bum off until the ripe old age of 17. 

Cookie 

The magnificent Miss Cookie 

Another very special girl. Cookie was our first rescue dog but she rescued us, really. She was so sweet and gentle. Unfortunately she'd had breast cancer before we adopted her and it returned. We had to let her go last year and it broke my heart. I'll never forget Cookie.

DRESSES

All of the following dresses were sewn by my talented and generous Mum. She's a bloody legend, and I have been rather spoiled over the years. There has been some talk of selling them, but to be honest I'm not sure I can let them go. To have such beautiful garments, including my wedding dress, handmade by my mum is something so special I can't put it into words so I'll let the pictures say everything: 

Year 6 Formal

I don't have any scanned photos 
of 11 Year old me wearing this but I did.
And I adored it. Still do. 

Year 10 Formal 

Gotta love the hand on the hip pose. 

Year 12 Formal

Other formal dresses 

Wedding dress

The Vogue pattern mum used 

And that concludes today's memories of dogs and dresses. Cue wistful sighing.

Until next time,

Ness 

Read More

Passions

Those lovely ladies known as the Lounge Lizards apparently want to know what I’m passionate about. Well, duh, as if it isn’t obvious.

CAKIES!

From a young age I was always known for two traits. My unrelenting drive and passion. For cake. Or chocolate. This has propelled me to the dizzying heights (who wouldn’t be dizzy, with all that sugar in your system) I’ve reached today,  as a professional Fatty Boombah Bogan.

This was emphasised to me by an anecdote related to me by my mother of the time when I was around the tender age of three, or perhaps four, who knows. You expect me to remember back that far? I can’t remember five minutes ago!

Anyway, evidently Mum had taken me out shopping and paused to have a coffee. However, I had other ideas.  I kept repeatedly asking for “Something nice,” emphasising the word ‘nice’ with a posh little plum in my mouth.  This refrain went on for several minutes, while Mum attempted to enjoy her coffee.

She tried to ignore my demands. Undaunted, I continued my efforts.

“Mummy, can I please have something nice?”

Finally, after another five minutes or so of my constant nagging heartfelt pleas, Mum eventually threw me a sachet of sugar.

“Here,” she said, exasperated “have this!”

My little three year old eyes fell on it. With a tone dripping in condescension and derision I  scathingly declared:

“BIG DEAL!”

I was cute once. And I wanted something 'nice', not
a sugar sachet! HMPH.

How dare anyone thwart me from having my desired and much sought after slice of cake! CAKE, I say, not a silly old sugar sachet!

In between my frequent cakie consumption, I could be found curled up with a book, my other passion. Sometimes I traded the book for our dachshund dog, Samantha. I tried to smuggle Samantha into bed with me once. When Sammy went to doggy heaven, along came Penny and Skippa.  I was devoted to those dogs. The fact that I never had to actually clean up their crap probably added to their appeal. Penny and Skippa went on to have pups. In an essay written for school about my life, I remarked that I’d never seen anything cuter than those puppies ‘not even a human baby’.  Clearly I needed to get out more. Or all that sugar was affecting my brain. Or both. Regardless, I was besotted with books, dogs and cakies.  Not to mention chocolate.

Me with my mullet perm and Skippa, circa 1985. Classy.

My passion for baked goods and all things chocolatey, continued on in my teens when I proceeded to take the old ‘Mars a day’ slogan quite literally. I devoured a Mars Bar every single day after school, while remaining annoyingly slim. Annoying to others, I’m sure. Annoying to me now, knowing that this phenomenon will remain firmly back in 1985, along with mullet perms and bubble skirts.  The latter two can stay there. However, I want my fourteen year old metabolism back, thank you very much. Hmph.

Perhaps continuing with the syrupy sweet theme, I also developed a deep and abiding love for Carpenters music at around age 11 which has continued onto this day. This is yet another lifelong passion.  Ironically, Karen Carpenter died from an eating disorder shortly after I fell passionately in love with her voice and music. This meant I was now passionate about cakies – and the World’s most famous anorexic, something only I could achieve. So ner. After all, while others worried about trying to save the whales or the ozone layer, SOMEBODY had to focus on the important issues. What could be more important than cake and Carpenters? Don't answer that...

Then, one day, years later, there came an epoch in my life.  A ‘bend in the road’ as ‘Anne’ would say.  I was unable to become pregnant and it appeared that a little bit of weight loss might help the situation. Surprisingly, I was able to develop a new passion, a very unexpected one. Exercise.

It worked, and one by one, babies came along. With each subsequent baby my passion for exercise waxed and waned. Meanwhile, my devotion to cakies and chocolate continued unabated.  After all, I could have given them up, too, but I’m no quitter, as they say. Whoever ‘they’ are.

My singular determination and unremitting pursuit of all things sugary is what has shaped me into the person I am today. An overweight bogan with high cholesterol who knows the words to every Carpenters song. Not many people can boast about that.  Shut up.

Not to be beaten, I am now determined to reclaim my long lost passion for exercise. After all these years it appears that my love affair with cakies and chocolate must now tragically come to an end. It’s not me, it’s them. While I have passionately loved them, it appears that they do not love me. Cue hysterical sobbing.

It turns out that there is one thing that I am truly passionate about.  Yes, even above and beyond cakies and Carpenters. Three things, actually.  Three of the most important people in my life.  My gorgeous boys. I love them passionately. For them, I will give up (or cut back, anyway- ahem) on cakies. I will even move my rather large arse and break a sweat everyday, until it becomes slightly less large.  I will do it because I passionately desire to be around for a hell of a long time, to see them grow up and possibly even be a Grandma one day. 

And if I do live to be 80, then I'm eating cake EVERY SINGLE DAY until I die from a diabetic coma. You can't stop me.  

Linking up with Slapdash Mama Sarah for The Lounge.

 
Also linking with Cathy from The Camera Chronicles for Flashback Friday.

                                                           What are YOU passionate about? 

Read More

Being Different & The Diagnonsense

Last year, at age 40, I found out that I officially am an Aspie.  Meaning a person with Aspergers Syndrome. Or Asparagus Syndrome as it often referred to.  When it is not being referred to as Ass Burgers Syndrome. 

Ass Burgers Syndrome is an Autism Specrum disorder (to quote Wikipedia ) that is characterised by significant difficulties in social interactions alongside restricted and repetive patterns of behaviour. That's the Reader's Digest abridged definition anyway.

I don't know at what age specifically I realised there was something slightly different about me. Most likely not until I started school. My parents probably noticed early on that my brother and I were (and  still are) vastly different temperaments.  Him being quite social, reputedly dancing at one get together as a toddler until his little legs refused to go on and then sitting down and bopping on. Me being quite the opposite and always wanting to go home whenever my parents took us out anywhere.

Samantha and I. I was about 10

I loved dogs and books.  My nose was always in a book as soon as I could read.   Especially Enid Blyton ones.  I was so quiet, Mum often had to check where I was, to see if I was okay. Usually she found me curled up with the dog.  We had a black and tan dachshund named Samantha. I'd named her that after Samantha from Bewitched which I loved.  Now it's obvious why I might not have grown up with much grip on reality loving such things, as I've mentioned before.

In spite of being painfully shy and quiet, apparently I could talk very clearly when I wanted to. So I never really had any speech or developmental delays . I was just a shy kid.

 It's true, I was and am shy.  I think that's a  different thing or trait than Aspergers. After all I'm sure that not every Aspie is shy.  So it's hard to say exactly how much of my behaviours are shyness and how much is from Aspergers. For example, eye contact.  I still find this impossible.

As a baby only a handful of priveleged people apparently had the honour of being able to hold me.  A couple of Aunties only, and my parents.  With anybody else I screamed.

Whenever Mum took me into one Aunty's kitchen I became very distressed at the sight of the very busy patterned wallpaper.  Obviously it was just sensory overload for me, however I would like to think that even as an infant I already had exquisite taste and thought: "Oh my GOD! Look at that hideous 1970's wallpaper...NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

In fact I still detest fleurescent lights with a passion.  I will often wear my sunglasses in shopping centres, receiving the odd stare from people who probably think I'm a complete wanker who thinks she's as cool as Bono.

The most noticeable Aspie trait I had ( and still have) is rocking backwards and forwards or jumping up and down on the spot. It's too bad I didn't keep the latter one into adulthood, because I sure need the exercise. These behaviours are referred to as 'stimming' in Aspie talk.

I wasn't a great student unless the teacher was particularly pushy with me.  This was mainly due to being an off with the pixies space cadet too busy daydreaming during class.  I'd only listen if it was something that interested me and tune everything else out.  I ended up being good at reading and consequently spelling and written expression.  I was fair to terrible with everything else.

Making friends was hard, but I managed to have one or two in primary  school.  At this stage when I was still interested in Barbie dolls I had something in common with other girls.  This changed later in High School where I ended up virtually friendless.  I had nothing in common with other girls who were interested in boys and liked Duran Duran while I was starting my Carpenters obsession.  This obsession has persisted to this day. Yes, I know, I am...seriously...weird.  Still at least I have my Ass Burgers as an excuse. I've met others online who are just as obsessed or worse. (You know who you are.)

More about my diagnonsense (as my friend Randa calls it)  next time...I'm going to play Carpenters.

Read More