Ye Olde Blog

Hello again! Things are pretty boring and blah so I figured I may as well post write a blog post to keep you entertained. So let's do it.

Aaaaaaaand...

Clearly I didn't think this through because I have nothing scintillating to report. Oops. 

Sydney is in lockdown so no library shifts for me. Sigh. However, I've been able to continue my permanent part time job doing end processing of DVDS for libraries. It's great cause I get to indirectly do work for various libraries all over Australia without going to the actual libraries. It's like magic! This past week I had to stay home but I'm back again this coming week. 

Our fabulous and favourite furry friend Chandler continues to become more lovable each day. Needless to say he loves lockdown. Plenty of walks, pats and company. Pets have really come out the winners here, that's for sure. Except those unfortunate pets who were obtained by eejits who were bored and impulsively got a pet without thinking it through and then dumped them when it got difficult. GRRRR. Not cool. 

The boys are keen to get Chandler (see above) a playmate and I like the idea but I have to convince Mickey Blue Eyes. We shall see. 

Mr 12 and I have binge watched a few series such as Superstore, Kim's Convenience, and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, the later being our favourite. This is one of our favourite songs from the show:

Oh yeah, it's a musical and totally rad and underrated. Can you tell it's my current obsession? 

When I think about it they always start with C: 

Cakies, Carpenters, Crazy Ex-girlfriend...

Oh wait, books and dogs don't. Except our two most recent dogs are the late beloved Cookie, and our current cutie pie Chandler.  Both of their names begin with a C. I didn't actually choose the names but there they are. Interesting coincidence. 

There's definitely one thing starting with C that I passionately LOATHE. You guessed it: Cancer. Fuck that shit.  Related: A friend of ours passed away recently. May he rest in peace. 

Also; Covid. Kindly go away and leave all of humanity alone, you  nasty virus, you! Yeah, just fuck off. I think this situation warrants an F word. 

Continuing the things beginning with C theme, I've done a bit of cooking because we like eating. That's truly the only reason I cook. Not a fan of the process. Here's some chocolate chip cookies I prepared earlier. They are literally the only thing I cook that my boys like and ask me to make. 

That reminds me. When I sign off I have to go and peel potatoes for dinner. I loathe peeling potatoes. I  adore eating potatoes. The eternal dilemma. Doh.  

Last week I got my drive thru flu jab but they didn't give me any fries with that. Rude. I prefer chips anyway, but still. At least I took a rare selfie because I was bored and anxious (see below):

What can you say about lovely old lockdowns and the pandemic that hasn't already been said?  I will say this: 

You know how back in the 60s hippies sang about a new world coming? Well I don't think this is what they had in mind. You know how Patsy Cline sang Stop The World and Let Me Off? Yeah, THAT.

Next week I get my first Covid vaccine jab. I would have had it sooner had it been possible but this is the first opportunity I've had to get it. Not my fault! Meanwhile Mickey Blue Eyes is fully vaccinated. 

In the midst of all this madness, it became obvious that I need to start to practice some actual real self care of the not inhaling cake variety. Turns out that's self-indulgence NOT self-care. Who knew? 

So anyway, I'm exercising a lot (well, most days)  because I got lazy about it and then this pesky little thing I call Agnes (aka anxiety) started to tap me on the shoulder. Oops. Plus, I figure it might be helpful to actually ingest some vegetables, get adequate sleep and practice some mindfulness. With this in mind I've even busted out the old adult colouring in again. Nice.

Whilst doing this I also burned a lavendar candle. I know lots of people loathe lavendar but I think we've confirmed that I've always been a bit of a Nanna at heart so I love it! 

Speaking of nanna's (or grandma's as my mum prefers), my beautiful mum turned 80 on the 26th of July and I couldn't see her. Wahhhhhhh. But we had a virtual cakie and a toast which was nice. Let's be thankful for technology I guess. 

Is it truly August? I can barely remember what day it is let alone what month. Mickey Blue Eyes will also have a lockdown birthday on the 11th. At least there will still be CAKE. It's a birthday so I'm allowed to be self-indulgent! Shut up. 

As if Covid wasn't bad enough, I've also got another crisis on my hands.  I'm not reading enough! GASP

I knowwww. Tragedy! The problem is that I don't wanna read depressing or gruesome stuff but generic romance or whatever doesn't hold my attention anymore. I started reading The Family Doctor but abandoned it because it was pretty intense and graphic from the first chapter. Following this I switched to a historical romance but the male characters were so awful I just couldn't deal with it.

Anyway, I picked up a paperback I'd got at an op shop called Everything Is Beautiful and I'm reading it verrry sloowwwly. It's kind of sad because it's about hoarding brought on by trauma or loss, but I think there may very well be a hopeful ending. Fingers crossed. 

You could say the same thing about podcasts. I need to dial back the murdery ones and listen to something else. But what?  Audio books are good idea. Duh.  And I'm supposed to be a library professional?! Ahem.

Podcasts for me are basically just a way to force myself to do dull stuff like dishes, cooking or folding washing. I need something in my ears to get it done. Otherwise I will poke my own eyeballs out with boredom. I mean, you can tell I'm just dithering here to avoid the afore mentioned potato peeling. 

As expected I don't have anything of note to report, but nevertheless it feels good to just type some random words. Just as randomly I began using instagram again. My account was sitting there forlornly, sad and dejected, just like this blog. The thing is, I have no idea how to use hashtags so if someone could explain it I'd be grateful? Never mind I'll just google it myself like a normal person. Me? A normal person? Bahahahahaha! Normal is overrated, right? 

Do you ever find yourself wondering why someone reacts with an angry emoticon to a fairly innocuous comment you made in a Facebook group? Definitely a sign that lockdown has gone on tooo long and you need to get out more and off Facebook. Once again I've gone off on one of my tedious tangents. But you get that. The pointless dithering, that is. Done!

Ok people, stay groovy (and safe!). 

Until next time,

Ness 

Read More

10 Things That Make Me Happy #FridayReflections

Hello again!  It's time for another groovy list type post! YAY! Well, I'm certainly excited. Because I'm listing ten things that make me happy. And that makes me...happy!

Because let's face it, there are many times in this gig called life when you feel flat, despondent, dejected, forlorn and just plain old blah. Shut up. Blah is totally a word.

Well, it's definitely a feeling anyway. I guess that's why I call it the blahs. Elton John can call it the blues. I can't stop him. But I'm sticking with the blahs. YOU can't stop ME. So ner.

It's important to have strategies in place to lift those blahs and hopefully feel better.

Here's ten things that make me happy whenever I have the blahs. I am challenging myself to not mention cakies whatsoever. Sure, they make me happy. Temporarily. Until I come down from my sugar high. And realise how frightfully fat I am. Sigh.

Plus I need to remind myself that there are plenty of other things out there that can help. And just back the hell away from the comfort eating. Seriously, Nesski.

Side note: my current Facebook profile picture is a photo of cakes with a 'So in love' frame. Told you. I need help.

Back to my list.

TEN THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

1. Exercise. Unfortunately the feeling better bit comes after the actual exercise itself. So rude. However, it's always worth it. With this in mind, I made myself move this morning by doing some brisk aerobics. Then I ate a cupcake. DOH. See? Seriously. Need. Help. 
2. Writing/blogging. It's quite therapeutic. With the added benefit that when I'm tapping or scribbling away I can't shovel food into my gob. That's something.
3. Getting out of the house. Even a trip to the library counts. I hope. Because I rarely go anywhere else. Oops. Note to self: get out more. 
4. Patting my dog. This is usually done in conjunction with singing ridiculous made-up-as-I-go ditties to her. Such as this: "Cookie, the amazing dog! Cookie, the amazing dog! Cookie, the amazing dog! She's an amazing dog!" Meanwhile, Cookie looks at me like a I'm a lunatic. But so long as the lunatic keeps patting her she'll tolerate it.
5. Cuddles/playing Uno with Mr 9. Despite his issues with losing, we still have fun. Always. 
6. Watching something funny. My current favourite is DVDS of The Golden Girls. Admittedly some of the jokes haven't worn well, but overall I still love it. And I can always laugh at the 1980s fashion. That hasn't worn well either. Tee hee.
7. Sing. Badly. See above. Lately (besides made up ditties to my dog) it's the soundtrack of Hello Dolly on rotation in my head. Who cares how bad you sound if makes you feel better? Well, perhaps my family. But I put up with their noise, so we're even.
8. Reading. Books and reading have always been my happy place. Hence my many trips to the library. It's fortunate that such a simple thing can give me contentment. I'm happier with a bargain book from an op shop than extravagant designer shoes or handbags. Winning! 😁
9. Dressing up a bit and putting some lipstick on. I'm fairly low maintenance these days in regards to grooming. But sometimes it's fun to pretend you're one of the Golden Girls and get your shoulder pads/earrings and a bit of lippy on. I now have the required silver hair without even trying. Just call me Dorothy/Rose/Blanche/Sophia. 
10. All of the above things work really well for a passing case of the blahs, but sometimes things get a bit more grim and I require professional help. Talking to a good counselor or psychologist really helps. Even though it's HARD. Well, it is for me. I don't talk. But sometimes I have to force myself. Just like exercise. 

Bonus things that make me happy: Notebooks and pens, listening to music, cups of tea, or a glass of wine. It's the simple things, really. Don't you think?

Anyway, that concludes my list.

Now I'm off to watch The Golden Girls. Which begins by singing the theme song. Badly. 

"Thank you for being a frieeend..."

Linking up for Friday Reflections. 

Do you call it the blahs or blues?

What makes you happy?

Read More

The Month That Was October

Another month done and dusted! I'm glad something is. Dusted, that is. My house certainly isn't. But it's all part of keeping up with the trends now that Halloween is apparently a thing in Australia. Cobwebs and dust FTW! 

Anyway, what can I say about October?

Well, curiously it is the only month of the year that begins with an O.  It comes after September and right before November.

What is the point of this meaningless information? I'm glad you asked. The thing is, I'm trying hard to think of something remotely interesting that I did during this illustrious month and what have I come up with?

NOTHING.

This reminds me of that phenomenon known as small talk. 

The scenario goes like this. 

I am busy doing all the numerous things that we call life.I get a phone call or bump into some one I know.

Them: What you have you been up to?
Me: Um..... 

My mind goes blank and I forget every single thing I have ever done in my entire life. 

It can't be just me. Can it? 

Suffice to say that I'm sure I did some something worthwhile in October. 

This blog was dutifully updated each week for your entertainment.

I shared what I've learnt about blogging and pondered the difference between being tidy or organised. 

Related: my de-cluttering mission has been kind of on again off again. But slow progress is better than no progress. Isn't it? 

I attempted to become all zen and mystical, to calm my manic mind from its swirling thoughts. From over thinking about my dubious attempts at de-cluttering and numerous other pointless ponderings.

I considered taking up yoga and transcendental meditation.  Pffffft. Yeah, RIGHT. That thought didn't repeat itself, oddly enough.

Instead, I turned to yet more distraction like a normal person. This involved watching a plethora of programmes on my laptop. 

Including:

The Wrong Girl
Rosehaven
Catastrophe
The Secret
Home Fires


And many more. 

This ongoing quest to avoid reality also meant I continued to read up a storm. And since I was on a roll, I decided to participate in triathlon!

Well, MY kind of triathlon, anyway. Sniff. 

There were more appointments, including my first ever with a dietitian. 

My recommended eating plan is low fat and low GI.Talking or writing about diets is terminally boring, so I won't say anything more about it. Furthermore, each time I publicly announce these things I always spectacularly fail. Oops. Moving on...

So that was a very underwhelming October. 

BUT... if this time last year has taught me anything it's that boring is good. God I love boring. 

I hope you do too. Because this post was certainly a good cure for insomnia. Ahem. 

And with that I am now all over November.  Game ON. Actually pyjamas still on. Maybe I better get dressed...

Linking up (late!) for The Month That Was

Read More

21 Random Facts About Me

1. My parents named me Vanessa after seeing Vanessa Redgrave in the movie Camelot. Almost everyone calls me Ness, except my parents and Mick who stuck with the Vanessa thing. 
2. My hair used to be straight but now it's curly because I had chemo. Sigh. 
3. My favourite drink is tea.
4. I can't wear perfume. It gives me headaches. 
5. I didn't learn to drive until I was 36. 
6. When adulting seems too hard I often fantasize about being a dog. I draw the line at becoming a Furry, though. It'd be too hot in summer. 

Image credit: https://onsizzle.com/i/i-dont-want-to-adult-today-i-dont-even-want-2681494

7. I'm struggling to get back into exercise post breast cancer. 
8. I almost never listen to the radio.
9. I prefer showers to baths.
10. I love reading but don't understand how people can read in the bath.
11. As a child I was scared of elevators and escalators. And boats, and heights and cockroaches. And people. Nothing much has changed. Ahem. 
12. I didn't realise I was pregnant the first time until around 26 weeks (approximately six months).
13. To my right there is a tall bookcase and a smaller one. Both are filled with books. Well, I did say they were random facts. 
14. I am trying to de-clutter my home. But it's not hoarding if it's books, right? (See above). 
15. I am terrible at multi-tasking. Except when I'm blogging, Facebooking, drinking wine and eating all the food simultaneously. I SMASH that. 
16. My middle name is Faye. Which sounds like an old lady name in 2016. Totally goes with my nanna curls. Winning! 
17. I don't think I'm interesting enough to make it to 21 facts. Thinking, thinking, thinking...
18. I've never had a sister or a daughter . Never will. Interesting. (I do have two wonderful sister-in-laws). 
19. I live in the same suburb I was born in 45 years ago. 
20. I'm super untidy but I can't stand having sticky or wet hands. Weird.
21. I am currently sipping a cup of tea. See point number 3. I am NOT eating cake with it. I am very sad and wistful about this. And I'm not even skinny yet! RUDE. 

There you have it. 21 totally random facts about me. You're welcome! 

Linking up for Friday Reflections. 

Are there any interesting random facts about you? 

Read More

Then And Now

Welcome to another fabulous Friday! My second favourite F word. You all know what the first one is!

FOOD! Duh.

Don't know what YOU were thinking.

Anyway, it's time to join in yet again for Friday Reflections!

I decided to merge two of the prompts because I thought they tied in neatly together. 

They are:

What did you want to be as a kid?
And...

Did you think you'd be doing what you're doing now? 

I was never really one of those kids who woke up one morning and thought: when I grow up I want to be a doctor/teacher/ballerina.

Just as well because; a) I can't stand the sight of blood, b) I struggle to even get through my kids homework, and c) I have the grace of an elephant on roller skates. 

If I thought about it all, I most likely assumed that I was going to be the next Enid Blyton. I adored her novels and read them obsessively. However, I never had a real plan.

I've always been a dreamer not a doer. Consequently I've kind of drifted through life. And here I am.

I always knew exactly what I DIDN'T want to do, but at the same time had no clear idea what I DID want to do.

As high school cruised towards it's inevitable finale, I had to make a decision. I enjoyed studying German. In fact, I was the genius who somehow failed English in my HSC and passed German. Go figure.

If I remember those heady mullet-permed days correctly, I decided to apply to university to study interpreting and translating. The only catch was, you had to be bilingual, fluent in two languages. It turns out that a couple of years of high school German wasn't enough to make me fluent. Who knew? So that idea was over with before it even started. 

To cut a long story short, I ended up studying at TAFE, something they used to call Library Practice (it's called something else now), and worked in libraries for a while. Until I didn't. Then I did again. Then I had babies and stayed home to look after them. Fast forward fifteen years. I'm still here, even though they're not babies anymore. Details...

Anyway, my point is, I now believe I was on the right track with the library thing. I always imagined that someday I'd go back to it, but now I have this cavernous fifteen year gap in my resume. Oops.

That's the thing about me. I'm not really one thing nor the other. I'm not a driven, career-oriented person, but I'm not really a house-wifey type either. It's another one of those curious dichotomies or contradictions about me: I'm a homebody and introvert, who definitely prefers being in my own space most of the time, but I'm not actually brilliant at being the person in charge of running the home. Weird. 

Hmmm, I guess I really should have been an eccentric stay-at-home millionaire or something... 

Or a professional daydreamer! Which is almost the same thing as being a writer. Well, except for the actual writing and getting paid part...

Unfortunately, the thought of being an author was always more of a fanciful daydream. A kind of 'yeah wouldn't that be nice' thing rather than having a concrete plan and goal. 

The only thing I really knew for sure as a child, was that one day I wanted to be a wife and mother. So in that sense, you could say I am doing what I thought I'd be doing. 

Admittedly, when I just thought and daydreamed about being a mother it was SO much easier! I was a perfect parent. Until I had kids! 

In my fantasies of being a grown up I was a tall, regal auburn haired 'Anne Shirley' type. I was married to my very own Gilbert Blythe. I had endless patience and wisdom to impart to my angelic fictional children.

Scenes played out in my head like something out of a movie or sit-com. I must have spent way more time watching television when I was growing up than I realised! 

To be honest, I never really thought specifically about what I'd be doing in my 40's. When you're a kid 20 seems ancient, let alone 40! 

I didn't have such a great grasp of reality.  Possibly due to all those Enid Blyton books and American sit coms I consumed. I'm sure I figured I'd be much better looking than I am and have a beautiful, immaculate home.

But you know what? Real life is way more interesting. 'Perfect' is overrated. 

As it turns out, even my childhood idol, Enid Blyton, was far from perfect. Well, according to her wikipedia page, anyway. If it's on the internet it must be true, right? Snorts.

Her novels have also been criticised as being all sorts of  dodgy things, including racist, in today's world. But they did provide me with some flights of fancy and a love of reading, so no harm done.

And while I may not have followed in her footsteps, I can still tap away here and indulge my love of words. Yeah, you're totally welcome!

Sure, there are moments when I wish I was more ambitious and goal-oriented, but for some one who has drifted and daydreamed through life, I don't have too much to complain about. 

Smashing! 

Linking up for Friday Reflections. 

What did you want to be as a kid?

Did you think you'd be doing what you are now? 

Read More

On hobbies and why I don't vlog

For many years I have wished that I had different hobbies and interests. My top four desirable interests would be:

• Sport
• Gardening
• Cooking
• Sewing

I feel that if you spend time doing the above activities then at least you have something to show for it. Meanwhile the type of passive things I do make it seem like I'm just a lazy-arsed time-wasting biatch.

These are:

• Reading
• Writing
• Blogging
• Listening to music
• Obsessing over Karen Carpenter
• Mindless web surfing and Facebook scrolling
• Aerobics

The only one that is actually helpful in life is doing aerobics. Yet somehow I never seem to look or act like those annoyingly perky and ripped aerobics instructors. Weird.

Out of all of those desired hobbies I potentially could become interested in cooking. After all, I do love food and eating. It's just that there is a certain level of organisational skill and multi-tasking that is necessary. I do not possess these attributes. Hello, self-diagnosed ADD. The internet doesn't lie, does it?

I have made some tasty chicken soup recently and some other Weight Witchy stuff. But what I really like is: CAKIES. 

However, I won't take up baking. Because if I did bake cakes then I would eat them. ALL of them. I couldn't stop at one. The only way I can avoid temptation is to never have the temptation there in the first place.


What else was I going to say?

Did I mention that I think I have ADD?

Anyway, what I was going to say before I lost my train of thought was, I basically still like all the same things I liked when I was 12.  It's comforting to know I haven't matured beyond a tween. On the other hand, I liked Nanna music (Carpenters), so maybe I was just a really mature 12 year old? Yeah, it must be that. Ahead of my time. Wisdom beyond my years and all that. Yep, totally that. 

Today I was actually supposed to be talking about vlogs. (A vlog is a video blog for the uninitiated). Specifically if I've ever made one. I haven't. Which is interesting, since I call blogging my  hobby. I didn't say I was actually any good at any of these hobbies, did I?

The reasons I've never vlogged are simple:

• I don't know how.
• I'm shy.
• I don't speak much above a whisper.
• I wouldn't know what to talk about.
• I'm strikingly beautiful and it would just make everyone jealous. 

It's possible that I made the last one up. Using possible in the sense of totally clear. Just so we're...um, clear.

However, I will put vlogging on my list of things to do in an attempt to push myself out of my comfort zone and blogging rut.

Not that these posts of me rambling on about nothing aren't totally fascinating and entertaining. Pffffft. Of course they are! It's just that I could mix it up a bit. I could verbally ramble on a video for a change. As soon as I have a personality transplant. To say I'm not particularly chatty in person is a slight understatement. Using slight in the sense of... Um, whatever the opposite of slight is. Huge? 

But getting back to hobbies. I've never been good at any of those desirable hobbies or skills because I'm a daydreamer.  It's not very handy when you're off with the pixies and a ball darts by your vacant face. For some reason, team mates become incensed. Can't think why. It's only a game. Sniff. 

Which leads me to another point. I don't really like any sort of games. Sport games, card games, board games, PS4, XBox, and just games, really. And although I'm a Facebook fan, I don't do Candy Crush or Farmville or any sort of Ville. (Yes, I'm still in Boganville, but shhhhhh, don't tell anyone). No games for this girl. 

Maybe I really am just totally anti-social? Who knows? I'm definitely not the competitive type. So I don't really have any intense urge to win or see the point of it all. Shrugs. 

When it comes to gardening, I think I'm more of an indoors person.  In fact I went outside into the sun yesterday, blinking and confused by the brightness.  I should probably get out more. 

As far as sewing goes, I guess I'm just too impatient and again, inclined to daydream. There was also the infamous Sewing Of The Finger Incident Of 1983 when I was in Year 7. I think it hurt, from my vague memory. Plus, I've always been totally spoiled and pampered by my Mum who rocks the whole cooking and sewing thing. There was no need to do it myself. Ahem. 

But it's all good because I can read, write and blog like a boss. Am I right? Rhetorical question. Please don't answer. I'm also very good at being delusional daydreaming. Winning!

I also know the lyrics to every Carpenters song ever recorded and every intricate detail of Karen Carpenter's life right down to her autopsy report. Yes, I'm deranged. This is baffling because when it comes to celebrities and celebrity gossip I have zero interest. In fact, I have no idea who half of the modern day celebrities and recording artists even are. Did I mention I'm weird? 

Okay, this weirdo is done here for now. 

Linking up for I Must Confess, Open Slather and Mummy Mondays.


Have you ever vlogged? Which hobbies do you wish you enjoyed?

Read More

More Boring As Batshit Bogan Bullshit - Because I CAN

Hello from Boganville! Yes, I am still alive, thanks for asking.

I'm trying to write something here even if it's crap. It's hilarious how I put the word 'if' in that sentence. Funny me. I'm SUCH a comedienne. Or something.

Anyway, what can I say about all the things I've achieved whilst missing in action?

I'm a svelte size 10, addicted to exercise and healthy eating and planning an amazing trip to Europe on our private jet while we wait for our mansion to be built, Micky Blue Eyes having finally followed through on his promise of becoming a millionaire by the age of 40, ten years later??!!

Nope. Can't say that. I CAN bore you with the same old boring as batshit bogan bullshit, though. You're welcome.

In fact, I've been missing in action because I've been extremely busy doing lots of interesting, important things. What, you ask? Okay, you didn't but I'm telling you anyway. So ner.

Here is a comprehensive list:

Sleeping
Eating
Reading
Sleeping some more
Eating some more
Reading some more
Shopping - but only because I needed more food so I could resume;
Eating
Shopping again - but only because I needed more books so I could keep on:
Reading
Sleeping -because all that reading and eating is EXHAUSTING.

I may have showered at some point, too. After all, I would have needed to frequently with all that exertion. Exhausting. Phew.

In between all of this monumental effort I did manage to schedule in a pap smear which was fun. SAID NO ONE EVER.

I also managed to schedule in a Girls Day Out with some friends and a spot of shopping, having finally accepted that Christmas is not going to be cancelled. I ventured to the shops with some trepidation expecting the familiar wailing of Mariah Carey but instead there was more of the old Jingle Bell Rock action happening which is quite jolly and cheering at first. However, I suspect that in another 26 days or so I shall be Jingle Bell Rocked OUT. Says the woman who can listen to the same Carpenters songs over and over and over for 30 years. Shut up.

On that note, (listening to same songs over and over) I not only DO NOT care what a fox says but I do know what I would like to say to the creators of THAT particular ear worm as my boys are rather enamoured with it. If you do not know what I'm talking about, consider yourself lucky.

While shopping, after having lunch with the girls, I ventured into Target, being classy like that, where I spotted a fetching shirt and vest type arrangement which I thought would do for Mr 12 to wear to his Year 6 Farewell. I popped the vest over the top of the shirt to see what it would look like. When it looked good I took it to the cashier and handed it over absent-mindedly. The cashier proceeded to scan the shirt but not the vest just as absent-mindedly. I had unwittingly ended up with a bargain. Or became a closet kleptomaniac. One or the other. Ahem.

It also transpired that Micky Blue Eyes and I had completely forgotten that it was my mother-in-laws birthday that same day until my father-in-law reminded us. Therefore, I came home from lunch and went straight back out again for dinner with the the out-laws. The next morning yet more shopping was planned with my parents. This meant I had to go out AGAIN in order to drink coffee and spend money. I mean, honestly it's exhausting and extremely rude to have to suffer indignities. HMPH!

Also, Mr 12 had his final High School Orientation on that same Monday and I had forgotten to complete the necessary paperwork for his bus pass application and so forth. Oddly enough this kind of scatter brained forgetfulness does not seem to endear me to Micky Blue Eyes. Sigh.

In a futile attempt to become more organised I had printed out some calendars, filled them out with all of our upcoming things to remember and pinned them on a cork board near the computer desk. Somehow they managed to go missing. When Mick found them again I realised I had totally forgotten to take Mr 5 for a free hearing test at his Kindy the previous Friday. Oops.

I had actually managed to score a hatrick of forgetfulness. Mother-in-laws birthday, High School paperwork and a hearing test. This could mean I'm already on the slippery slope to Alzheimer's or that I have ADD. Or all of the above. Interestingly, I have taken online tests for ADD and scored through the roof for having it but what I am meant to do with this information I don't know. After all, it hasn't changed a thing worked out so well receiving my Ass Burgers diagnonsense. Sigh.

On a brighter note, at least I never forget to eat like some wacky people! So that's something, right? Ahem. And I never forget to feed my children. Mostly. They don't even have to dig for worms anymore! It's been raining so there'll be plenty of snails for them. Done. Dinner sorted.

And I don't even go to paid work! Can you imagine if I did? I'd probably forget my own children's names! Oh wait...

There's a reason I call them 'honey' or 'sweetheart' all the time and Mr's 12, 9 and 5 here. Oh dear.

On that note, I'm sure there was more I was going to tell you - but I've forgotten what it was...

Until next time, take it easy and I'll catch up with you later!

Ness

What have you forgotten about lately? 

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

Books Are My Bestie

I have a book fetish.  Books have been my major companion and 'bestie' since childhood. As soon as I could read, I always had a book attached to me and would often come wandering out to the breakfast table, book in hand.

The amount of times I was busted reading a book under the desk at school are too numerous to mention. It all started with Enid Blyton, of course.  Admittedly all the constant references to characters named 'Fanny' were a bit too much for me at times, but nevertheless the stories were so entertaining that I couldn't put them down. It never dawned on me to question  how four kids and a dog could outwit hardened criminals, always remaining unscathed throughout, in all those gripping Famous Five books I read avidly.  I was rather gullible and dreamy. 

It has since dawned on me that a love of Enid Blyton books might not have started me off on the best path to having a firm grip on reality.  A situation that was made worse by a love of such unrealistic TV shows as I Dream Of Jeannie and Bewitched.  I mean, pleeease,  a beautiful witch, with magical powers that mean she can go anywhere and do anything she desires, yet all she wants to do is completely forsake those powers just to be a normal housewife.  RIIIIGHT.  I don't think so.

Anyway, back to books.  At age 10 I read 'Anne Of Green Gables' and then 'Anne' books took over from Enid as my favourites.  My friend Poss will want me to mention the 'Jill' books. So I will. They were 'horsey' type books.  And I say, they were frightfully good. Smashing and all that.  Just like Enid Blyton.  I did like the odd 'horsey' book, which is curious, because I've never particularly liked horses.

I my teens I went through a stage of reading the dreaded Mills and Boon type romances.  This horrified one year 9 English teacher, who called my mother up to the school to inform her that reading such books caused young girls to believe that if they had sex and had an orgasm, they were in love!

Books are the only thing I still hoard as an adult. With other ladies it's usually a handbag or shoe fetish, with me it's a book fetish. Everyone has their thing.  This is fortunate for my husband in that I'm happy with a two dollar book from an op shop, rather than a two hundred dollar handbag.  Not so fortunate however, in that we often need a spare suitcase to bring home all the books I buy on our holidays.

The fact that I will never have time to read all of these books even if I live to be 137 years old is completely irrelevant.  I still have to have them.   Now I still read lighter stuff. I have a short attention span and three kids, so what I am going to read, War and Peace?

 I do sometimes attempt classic authors like Austen, Bronte or Dickens, all of whom I love, but they require more concentration. So I mostly stick with frothy, girly 'chick lit' as they call it, or war time sagas, because I find it amusing how they always have to time for a brew in between all the dramas and bombs exploding, being a cuppa tea girl myself.

Interestingly, I've never read any Harry Potter books.  And I never will. As I've mentioned before, after having three sons, I'm over it.  I may also be the only person in the entire world who has never read the The Da Vinci Code.  I fear it would be too confusing for my fragile brain.  I can't even figure out how to put my sons Lego sets and other various toys together, so my brain might explode trying to decipher such a book.  I won't be reading the Twilight series or The Hunger Games either.  Ditto Fifty Shades Of Grey.

Instead, I'll just read 'Anne' again for the millionth time. Okay, trillionth....

"Mrs Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed by alders and ladies eardrops and traversed by a brook....."

Note: That opening line from Anne Of Green Gables was quoted straight off the top of my head.  Truly.  Yep, I really am that tragic.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

                                                         Which books do you love?
                                      What are you reading at the moment?

Read More