Monday, 19 February 2018

February Is...


February is...

The shortest month of the year. Consequently it's often the month my dad chooses to go on a diet. He should probably trademark it and sell it. The February Diet. But I'm guessing somebody already has anyway...

February is...

Tricky to spell. Who knew there was a rogue 'r' in there? Okay, only me. Oops. 

February is...

The last month of summer.(If you live in Australia, that is.) Hallelujah! Cue glorious uplifting music. I am SICK of the heat and humidity. SICK OF IT, I tell you! Of course it won't be long before I am complaining about the cold. I like to be consistent in some things. I'm a very consistent weather whinger. Winning! 








February is...

When you're smashing all your resolutions and goals full steam ahead feeling smug and strutting about like a peacock owning 2018 already in month number two. Except I'm not doing that. Oops. 

February is...

The month when I remember the passing of the late great Karen Carpenter. She left this earth 35 years ago on February 4th, 1983. 35 flipping YEARS?! *sobs* 






February is...

The month of lurrrrve, romance, hearts, flowers and all that mushy stuff. Not into it. That's surprising, yeah? But Mickey Blue Eyes did present me with some lovely chocolates from Aldi, and I didn't get him anything. Therefore I decided a Facebook photo with a lovey dovey frame would have to do. And that is what I like to call romance, people. 








February is...

A month in which I have done so many exciting things. Including:


  • Washing windows
  • Tidying the linen cupboard
  • Mopping floors
  • Washing truckloads of dishes
  • Folding vast mountains of clothes
  • Borrowing library books
  • Reading library books
  • Writing lists
  • Writing draft blog posts then never publishing them
  • Going to a shrink appointment
  • Going to a GP appointment
  • Going grocery shopping
  • Making beds
  • Cooking food
  • Eating food

And yeah, I think we're done with the bullshit bullet points. I'm sure you're all suitably jealous now. Snorts. 

February is...

The month after January. Conversely, it's also the month BEFORE March. I always feel the need to include a glaring Captain Obvious moment in my posts. Because why not?  January is my birthday month, so February is my one year and one month birthday. Or something. I don't know. I'm just making this up. 

What else have I been up to in this plodding fast-paced February? I'm glad you asked. The fact that you didn't is only a minor detail. I'll tell you anyway. You're very welcome. 

Recently I borrowed a book from the library called The Housewife's Handbook. See bullet list.  Inside, I found a newspaper clipping with a headline that went something like: "Fair distribution of assets when a marriage fails". 

Evidently someone who borrowed the book before me was also trying to be a top notch housewife. Until the day they decided, screw this, and promptly filed for divorce. I'd like to think that this woman (because only a woman would borrow such a book, I suspect) is now currently sunning herself on a beach in Greece a la Shirley Valentine. 

Meanwhile, I've been a contented little (or not so little) housewife of late. I've been merrily cleaning away. (Again, see bullet list). The other week, Mickey Blue Eyes, looking very concerned, asked me why. You'd think it was totally out of character or something!

Clearly he thought I'd either invited guests without telling him, or completely lost my marbles. Well, it definitely wasn't the former. So yeah, I'm wondering how long will it be before I wish to join my imaginary 'Shirley' on that beach? I think I'll keep Mickey Blue Eyes, though. Hopefully we'll get to that beach together at some point. 

In the meantime, farewell to you, February. Until we meet again. Same time next year. Can you please leave quietly and not incinerate us on your way out? Thank you. 

Now bring on March! 

What is February to you?

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Favourite Weather


Hello again!  Here I am, back to thrill you with the most scintillating topic:

The weather! 


Specifically, my favourite weather. All I know is, it certainly isn't 47 degrees celcius (or 116.6 fahrenheit, according to an internet converter)!!! Yuck!

This temperature happened here a few weeks ago when NSW officially became the hottest place on Earth.  Yeah, screw that.  That shit is only for satan. Whew. Not fun. Not fun AT ALL. I'd quite like to keep my face attached to my skull, instead of it melting off, thanks very much. Not keen on death by drowning in my own sweat either. 



Image crhttp://www.nedmartin.org/v3/amused/in-gods-kitchenedit: 


Although, I don't really enjoy extreme cold either. I'm an in-between kind of girl.

When it comes to weather, I am Goldilocks. I like it 'just right'!

And since we're talking about Goldilocks, what was her problem anyway? Sneaking into the three bears house and eating their porridge? Who does that? Not cool, Goldilocks!

I know what you're thinking. Calm down, Ness. She was just a character in fairytale and she was lost and hungry or something. Besides, bears don't actually have houses, nor eat porridge. Get a life.

Um. OK. Good point.

So yeah. Weather.

This heat bullshit is exactly that. Utter unmitigated bullshit. We even had a thunderstorm that was more like a mini cyclone! I quite like the odd thunderstorm, but that bordered on scary.

These last few days have been blissfully cooler. On Sunday,  we took a day trip up to the Central Coast to visit friends, and yesterday I celebrated my birthday with a buffet lunch. It must have the been the first birthday in my now 47 years that it hasn't been a scorcher. 

However, the temperatures are set to soar again by the end of the week. Apparently, anyway. Save me! Oh well, no point in complaining about things you can't control. But that doesn't stop me. Ahem. 

So, like Goldilocks. I will find the place where it's just right. And by just right, I mean air-conditioned. And I'll remind myself that Autumn is on it's way. Yay! 

What about you?

What's your favourite weather? 


Monday, 8 January 2018

One Word: 2018 Edition


Good morning, groovers and shakers. Hustlers and movers. Artists and makers. And, you know, everyone. Because of course everyone reads my blog. 😉

A Merry New Year to you all. Can't remember if I said that last time. If I did, it still applies and is worth saying again. I say merry because we can't be happy all the time but we can be merry. Oh wait, is that the same thing? Oh well. Enough about that. 

In keeping with new years, comes the whole 'new year, new me' thing. Additionally there is also the 'one word' phenomenon. The way it works is, you choose a word which is meant to encapsulate your year. A kind of a theme or guide, so to speak. Something like that anyway. I'm probably not explaining it properly.

At any rate, my usual tendency when faced with such frivolities (or important rituals, depending on your point of view), would be to eye roll and dismiss it as claptrap. Because, let's face it, claptrap is, in itself, just a great word. As is codswallop. However, they are not the usual suspects when it comes to choosing your 'one word'. It's the common practice to choose something a little more uplifting.

I certainly wouldn't want my whole  year to be defined by codswallop, while at the same time, I would rather like the opportunity to say such a word at decent intervals throughout the proceedings. I'm weird like that. 

Therefore: codswallop.

Right. Hopefully I have gotten that out of my system for now. Moving on.

In the interest of being a bit more open to things and less cynical, I thought I'd have a crack at this one word malarkey last year. The word I chose was:

MOVE.

Um. Yeah. That didn't go as planned.

Well, there was SOME movement, but not nearly as much as I would have hoped.  But you know what? I am not going to berate myself for this. You know why? I have decided that my one word for 2018 will be...

Drum roll, please...

COMPASSION.

Image credit: http://mallorybecker.com/self-compassion/


With particular emphasis on self-compassion.  You see, I have this inner mean girl who mocks, taunts and castigates me constantly. Yet I would never do such a thing to another human being. What is that all about?

I have gotten somewhat better at thanking my mind for some of these jibes, and then just moving on. This is a practice derived from ACT (Acceptance & Commitment Therapy). So I feel that taking this practice a bit further with some self-compassion on the side will be quite beneficial. That's the plan anyway. 


Image credit: https://www.slideshare.net/marva78/selfcompassion-60420359


I expect it will be uphill work. When you've lived with your inner mean girl for almost 47 years (next week), it's not gonna happen overnight. It will be a work in progress and we'll see how it goes this time next year. It's truly a lifelong thing, isn't it? But this year is about setting it all up for the rest of my life, however long that is. 

And hopefully when I am being much nicer to myself that will help to motivate me to move more. I will be more likely to do the things that benefit and nourish me. Instead of thinking of myself as a fat, lazy sloth creature for not moving, I will tell myself that it's not easy but I can do it. I like the sound of that. Wish me luck! 

What about you?

What do you think of this 'one word' phenomenon? 


Do you have a word for 2018? 

Monday, 1 January 2018

Goodbye To 2017

Happy new year, dear reader! I'm sure it will happy some of the time anyway. Except when it's not. Because that's kind of how life is. If your life is always happy then please leave a comment telling me what drugs you're on and where I can get them.

Meanwhile, before I get on with this year I wanted to tell you a bit about the year just gone. 

In 2017 I: 

January: Curly hair.



  • Slept for hours. And had the weirdest dreams EVER. 
  • Folded MOUNTAINS of washing because I have SUCH a glamorous life.
  • Made the weekly pilgrimage to Aldi because I have to get my excitement somehow.
  • Started the year with curly hair and finished with spiky hair. 
  • Ate lots of bad food.
  • Ate lots of good food. 
  • Got a new shrink because apparently I am still demented.
  • Felt anxious in K Mart.
  • Felt calm in Coles.
  • Drank a billion cups of tea.
  • Borrowed tonnes of books from the library then forgot to take them back on time.
  • Drank cappucinos while sitting on orange chairs under fluorescent lights. 
  • Daydreamed.
  • Wrote pointless lists.
  • Wrote purposeful lists. 
  • Chose my 'one word': MOVE.
  • Decided to take this word as more of a light suggestion in favour of other entrancing words, such as REFINED CARBOHYDRATES and SLOTH. 
  • Pondered important questions.
  • Pondered trivial questions.
  • Prayed I didn't have cancer again. And I don't even believe in God. Weird.
  • Had my tits crushed. I didn't have cancer. YAY! 
  • Had a tooth ripped out. Which is always fun. Said no one ever.
  • Drank lots of Bailey's Coffee Liqueur in Wagga Wagga.
  • Drank champagne in the south of France.
  • Made stuff up. Like that last point. Incidentally I have no idea why the south of the France is supposed to be better than anywhere else in France. I'm never likely to find out either. Sigh.
  • Wrote in a two dollar journal from KMart with glitter pens from Aldi.  Yes, I know. There was no need for me boast about such things. We've already established how lavish my life is. 
  • Passed a lady at the shops wearing a vivid multi-coloured sparkly kaftan with her hair dyed just as many colours and thought she's probably quite fun to have as a friend. Or a complete nut. One or the other. 



November: Spiky hair. 

And I could go on and on, but it's obvious what an eventful year 2017 was for me. So it is with a wistful heart that I say farewell to you, 2017. No, we will never meet again, except in my memories. Well, let's face it,  not even there particularly, because I have a brain like a sieve. So it's a firm goodbye. You were neither good, nor bad. Just meh. Boring. Beige. But I didn't mind a bit of beige. I've had quite enough of pink, thank you very much. 

Let's see what 2018 brings. Be nice, 2018! 

What about you?

What did you do in 2017?


Friday, 22 December 2017

Dear Santa...



Dear Santa,



How are you? Season's greetings and all that. How is Mrs Claus and all the elves? I expect things are quite hectic as you're doing all your last minute preparations. 


Loading up the sleigh. Making sure the reindeers are well-rested for the big night. Checking your lists: one titled Naughty, and the other Nice. It must be a magical winter wonderland over there in the North Pole. I can only imagine, as it's summer here in the land of Oz.

However, I wonder if could be so cheeky as to interrupt your busy schedule to ask a few questions? They've been on my mind for a long time. Years, in fact. They're really rather important. I am a master at asking all the important questions, I think you will find. 


Okay, here goes. I will just fling them at you randomly and in no particular order. I've been over thinking about them for so long and I just need to get them off my chest:


  • Where did you find FLYING reindeers? 
  • Why are you always judging people? If they're naughty or nice? I mean, who are you to decide what's naughty? 
  • And furthermore, aren't you actually somewhat of a... err... STALKER? Watching people when they're sleeping or otherwise is just plain creepy, Santa. 
  • How do you fit enough presents for ALL THE CHILDREN IN THE WHOLE WORLD on one little sleigh?
  • Likewise, how are you able to traverse the entire planet in a single night? I'm sorry Santa, it just doesn't make sense. 
  • How do you get into houses or apartments that don't have chimneys? 
  • And, if they do have a chimney, how do you slide nimbly down them, given your advanced age and ample girth? Sorry to be a bit personal there, Santa. 
  • I need to know why I never received that much coveted Barbie Dream House when I was a child? I was nice! Mostly. Oh shut up, Santa. Yes, I know I got the Barbie Camper Van, but that's not the point! 
  • Furthermore, how can you POSSIBLY be in every single shopping centre at exactly the same time? Have you figured out how to clone yourself? 
  • And what about the poor little elves? Isn't it slave labour making them toil away in your workshop? Who's not nice now, Santa?
  • Last but not least Santa, riddle me this: why is it that parents do all the work, and then you come along in your red suit and hat all jolly like and TAKE ALL THE CREDIT! RUDE. 

Well Santa, I'm waiting. I want answers. And I want them NOW!

*Silence*

AHA! I thought so! You can't answer these questions, can you? It's almost as if...

YOU DON'T EVEN EXIST. 

There, I said it.

I've suspected this for some time. Especially after my tragic revelation about the phoney old dinner fairy. Sigh. And not just any sigh. A deep, long sigh containing all the sorrow of the ages. 

The thing is Santa, maybe you're not real. And you can't ever answer my questions. But you know what? Who cares!

I know, I know! I did a few lines ago. Details!

The truth is, we all need a little magic in our lives. To believe in fairy tales. Well, at least sometimes... To revisit our childhood innocence. We need some Christmas cheer. We all need this more than ever right now.

So on with the show, Santa! Load up that sleigh. It's nearly Christmas Eve! I'll have carrots ready for the reindeers. And I'll leave you out some wine and chocolate instead of milk and cookies, because I know that's what you'd really prefer. 😉

See you soon, Santa! 

Sincerely, 

Ness.

Do you still believe in Santa? 


Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/blur-celebration-christmas-cookies-260498/

Monday, 18 December 2017

All I Want For Christmas...

I was tagged by the lovely Mim to answer these sixteen questions about Christmas. And since I'm such a jolly person I say ho ho ho and on with the show...

Um. Yeah. That's why it doesn't work when I try to be jolly or outgoing or any of those things. I just sound/look like an eejit. Oh well. Here's the sixteen questions anyway. Complete with answers, because that's how questions are supposed to work...

1. What’s your favourite Christmas movie?

Hmmmm good question. I'd probably say When Harry Met Sally, even though it's not technically a Christmas movie, it does have a bit of a Christmassy theme/feel. 

2. Have you ever had a White Christmas?

Unfortunately, no! 

Unless we're talking wine and pavlova and things like that? Then of course I have! 

3. Where do you usually spend your holiday?

It' usually spent at my brother and sister-in-law's place either on Christmas or boxing day. This year we did early (yesterday!) because they are going away. So I expect we will be at home (or my parents place) on the actual day. 

4. What’s your favourite Christmas song?

That's easy. It's The Carpenters Merry Christmas Darling. 






5. Do you open any presents on Christmas Eve?

Nope. I don't know why. Probably because "Santa" doesn't seem to be too organised around here... Ahem.

6. Can you name all of Santa’s Reindeers?

Um. Dasher. Dancer. Comet.Vixen? No... Blitzen. Or something. And of course, good old Rudolph. So that's only half.

Oh wait, I've got a feeling there's a Donner as well. Or I could just be thinking about kebabs? I'm always thinking of food. Classy.

So yeah, the short answer is no. No, I can't.

7. What holiday traditions are you looking forward to this year?

You mean aside from eating myself into a diabetic coma? That would be drinking likewise. Just kidding! I do have a wine or two but I'm not a drunk. I guess it would be just spending time with family and listening to Carpenters Christmas music. 

8. Is your Christmas Tree real or fake?

Fake as fake can be. And then I just let Mr 9 chuck whatever he wants on it. It's currently leaning sadly like it's dejected and forlorn and no amount of indiscriminate tinsel tossed at it will ever cheer it up. Poor fake tree. 

9. What’s your favourite holiday treat/food/sweet?

Pretty much anything that isn't nailed down. See 7. 

10. Be honest, do you prefer the giving or receiving of gifts?

To be honest I sometimes feel embarrassed about receiving because I'm always worried that my gifts are not as nice as what I've been given. Does that make sense? Yeah, I never make sense. As you were. 




11. What’s the best Christmas present you ever received?

I'm still waiting for twelve billion dollars in cash, a luxury European holiday and a glamorous waterfront property complete with staff to pamper me. HMPH. 

Seriously though, the best thing is getting a clean bill of health from cancer related issues for Mickey Blue Eyes and I. Nothing can beat that. 

But I wouldn't mind the clean bill of health PLUS the twelve billion just to see what that's like as well. Someone arrange that for me. Pretty please? 

12. What’s your dream place to visit for the holiday season?

Anywhere that isn't the equivalent of the seventh circle of hell, given that it's summer here in the land of Oz. 

13. Are you a pro present wrapper or do you fail miserably?

Fail ABYSMALLY.  They just get wrapped any old how. And I drive myself mad misplacing tape etc while I'm doing it. GRRRRR. 





14. Most memorable Christmas memory?

Gosh I'm not sure. Other than my boys first Christmasses.

I do have a vague memory of receiving one of those vintage 'Baby Chrissie' dolls when I was around four. You could pull their hair in and out or something. Anyway, I dragged it by the hair outside. Needless to say, my mum wasn't impressed because she'd had to pay it off back in the days of lay-by. That wasn't exactly the kind of heartfelt, touching tale you were looking for, right? Oops. 

15. What made you realise the truth about Santa?

I can't remember anything specific. It was just the slow dawning realisation that there was no WAY that Santa could be in all the shops at once. Nor did it seem plausible that he could traverse the entire world in a single night with a bunch of flying reindeer. I mean, come ON!

Plus if he really did exist,then what was going on with the fact that my cousin sometimes stayed with us for Christmas and would usually receive twice as much as my brother and I put together?This was after my aunt declared "She's not getting much this year." What? Ripped off! And anyways,Santa ends up getting all the credit after mums (and dads) do all the work! 

What I'm saying is, I still wish he WAS real. *SOBS*

16. What makes the holidays special for you?

It's kind of trite but I guess it's just spending time with loved ones. Well, that and the fact that all thoughts of diets, being healthy and all that nonsense can be forgotten for a month day and you can eat until you EXPLODE.  I did mention I'm classy. 

DONE. 

Big thanks to Mim for tagging me. That was fun!

I now tag:

 Denyse at Denyse Whelan Blogs

Dorothy at A Blog Of Her Own. 


Ness at Normal Ness (I think her sarcastic take could be interesting!) 
However, if any of you are not into the tag thing just ignore me. On the other hand if you're totally into it, it's an open tag, so join in! 

Merry Christmas everyone! 

What are you doing for Christmas?

Monday, 11 December 2017

Today I Will...


Today I will wake up in the morning bursting to pee with enthusiasm.

Then I will go for a lovely refreshing walk. To the kitchen. Specifically, the fridge.







Today I will hug my boys. Well, Mr 9 at least, because he's the only one who lets me these days.

Today I will breathe and be thankful and all that hippy drippy positivity stuff. When I'm not being grumpy or bored or irritable or anxious... Who me? Nah, never.

I expect I will have a cup of tea. Actually, several. Hence the bursting thing... See above.

It's highly likely that I will stare vacantly into space at some point.

Furthermore, I am quite certain that I will walk into a room and forget exactly why I did so.

I will eat healthy food and nourish my body. Unless there is cake, because let's be honest, I'll shovel that shit in.

I might go shopping. Well, I will be in the shops. I may not do much actual shopping because apparently they expect you to pay for things which I find quite rude.

I will reluctantly lovingly prepare food and feed my family. Well, they'll eat something at some point anyway, even if it's cereal.

Today I will be purposeful and proactive instead of meandering and reactive. Snorts. Strike that. Reverse it.

Today I will jot my lovely list in my bullshit bullet journal and cross off ALL THE THINGS. OK, some of the things. Shut up.

Today I will laugh at the absurdity of everything. Because seriously, what else can you do?

Today I will read memes on the internet and share them.  Because I enjoy wasting my life on such frivolities.

Today I will try not to compare myself to others. After all, I'm awesome. Well, flawsome at least. Sniff.

Today I will wear my comfy shoes. And no bra because comfy and bra in the same sentence is an oxymoron.

Today I will type this sentence. Done. 

I will wash a mountain of dishes. That's always fun. Said no one ever.

No wait, I'm supposed to be MINDFUL while I do so. Okey dokey. I will mindfully wash a mountain of dishes. Nope. Still not fun.

I will tell my monkey mind 'NOT NOW' when it tries to trick me with its taunts.

Today I will read some words and write some words. I will probably only utter one or two words however, because that's just how I roll.

Today I will do lots of housework because I'm a dedicated and diligent housewife. And also we're expecting visitors so I kinda have no choice. Details. 

Today I will scratch my ears because they're always so damn itchy. Why are they always itchy? 

Today I will ponder upon the fact that in one month and four days I will be 47 years old and I'm so glad to be getting older and that I don't have to start chemo two days before my birthday like I did in 2016. 

Today I will pick up random crap as I go about my housework (see above) and become baffled about what it is, where it came from and what the hell are we living like. Just me? 

I will pause for a cup of coffee mid morning. Because I like to mix it up from all the cups of tea. 

Today I will focus on just today instead of thinking about tomorrow or pondering on yesterday. Until I get into bed and brain doesn't want to oblige. Silly brain. 

Today I will type an ending to this blog post. Otherwise I'll still be here rambling on tomorrow and nobody wants that. 

OK. Done.

What about you?

What will you do today?