Still Playing..

As you can see, I am still playing with the Spiderwebs.

Have not made any blocks completely as yet. I will have to play about with them.

I dont have a design wall, so this is the part where I use our bed, or the floor. Small dogs seem to feel they have to test drive the patches too, so the floor is not always such a good idea!

Here are the small dog babies, lording it over GOM, last night. He loves to sit in his chair with the dogs on top of him. Not such a bad idea, as they are nice & warm in the chilly evenings we are beginning to get.

******

I read a very interesting post this morning concerning labels for quilts. It was posted by Taniwa & I found it very interesting. I was quite surprised to read in the comments, how many people tend not to make labels for their quilts.

Sometimes I make very plain ones with just the date & who it is for, & my name.
I became interested in foundation piecing labels, & have done some using that method. I usually make one if it is a gift quilt.

And sometimes I include details, such as how the quilt came about or what special occasion it was made for.

I wonder how many other people make labels. I think it is nice to think our labels might last a long time, & I am often surprised to realise how long ago I made a quilt, when I see the date.

I Won a Prize!

How lucky am I! I have just had my day made! A wonderful surprise package in the mail, from Alison at Rags to Riches.
A lovely meter of gorgeous fabric, tied up with a lovely pattern. Her gorgeous girls chose my tip for quilting, & I was so thrilled to learn I had won. I am going to have fun making this pattern it is lovely.

It is a pretty pattern "Was she so Loved" designed by Sarah Alexander.

It has stitchery with embellishments, & looks very romantic. My chance to use some of the laces I have collected over the years. And that beautiful fabric with the soft romantic roses.

This pic includes my lovely Zygo Cactus, a pretty soft pink. I am so thrilled it is flowering! I bought it for a $1 including the pot, at a garage sale. I love pink!

Thankyou Alison, and thank you to her lovely girls!

It must have been my lucky 'streak' or something, because I have been told I have won another prize on another blog. So I will have to tell you all about that lovely surprise when it arrives.

********

I have been having major problems with my computer. No speed, no emails, no access to other blogs.

After several calls, I found a very nice young man last evening who solved my problems at last. I do like the service they give, they are always so polite, & pleasant. It would be mean to curse at them.

I really made the young man last night laugh, & laugh. We had spent ages trying various things to try to get the problem solved, & since things were running soooo sloooow, it was taking an age.

I menioned it must be boring at times, & asked if he could do sudoku or crosswords while waiting.

Young man laughed, & said 'No, they cant do that, but they log details of the problems & the call.

Which prompted me to ask if they classify the callers, with such things as "This client is a F*%&wit". He burst out laughing, but assured me they dont do that, the calls have to be checked & are monitored, so no untoward comments are logged. That is a comfort I guess.

But, of course, Big Brother is not a total reality yet, so who knows what they think?? haha.

Role Reversal

I am thinking since GOM retired, our roles have reversed somewhat.





I used to be the one who was a little anal about keeping the kitchen immaculate. (Mind you, I never did have the 'Good Teatowel') Now it is GOM who fusses & flaps about, harrumphing, & muttering, about plates not put in the dishwasher, or lunch preparation items left on the bench.





I kindly remind him of the days when he blithely left all the mess, & never gave it a second thought.


"Oh well, I was WORKING, wasnt I?"





It is like a red rag to a bull! I was WORKING too, as it happened, but apparently that didnt count. GRRRRR!





But now that my arthritis & slight disabilities keep me in some pain, he is very good about vacuuming, so I have to roll with some of his punches, I guess. I have harped on about his obsession with the pantry, but I have decided to concede that point to him...he can have it. As long as I can still find my ingredients to prepare meals. Which I quite often can't- but he can usually tell me where he has put it.

And, to give him his due, he is good about grilling some chops, for us, or steak for himself, & making a nice salad to go with, if I am not feeling up to it, or busy with the sewing.

Another reversal we seem to have reached is the body temperature. He was always warm, had warm hands, warm feet. And he was very kind about letting me put my frozen feet onto his toasty ones. I was a thin smoker in those days, & circulation was compromised I suppose.

Now I am a somewhat chubby nonsmoker, & my hands & feet are mostly quite warm. GOM is still a somewhat chubby man, but now his feet & hands are quite often cold. I will hold his hand, but I draw the line about the feet!





*******

And, I have started a new project! I could just spend all day sewing, & he wont mind. He even suggested some meals so that we can have 2 sittings from the one dish. He never used to like casseroles much, but has discovered he really likes them now, so it does make life a bit easier. Especially if I get on a roll with the sewing.





Mary kindly posted a PDF file for the pattern for a Spider Web quilt. I was impressed with her nice version, (check it out!) so decided to give it a go. Of course the first thing I did was make a mistake! O well, I managed to learn from it, & now it seems to be moving along, without hitches, & promises to be quite a nice quick project, which is what I need, after my 'quilting block'.

As my stash is just made for scrap quilts, it is an ideal pattern, with quick results... providing I dont make more mistakes, haha. I rather wish I had gone for the total scrap look of Mary's quilt, but never mind, at least it has got me moving again!

So now, I am off to sew! Have a great day!

Anticipation was the best part! Or a Day at the Races.

This a pic of the little Pot Pouri bear, which was my sole purchase at the Doll Bear & Quilt show yesterday. A blurry little pic, & I see she was made in China! Oh well, I suppose she is a well travelled little girl.

And, sadly, it is true, that the anticipation was the very best part of the Show. I never managed to get one photo taken, and barely managed to get any sightings of traders tables, the competition dolls & bears, and worst of all, the quilts were so poorly displayed it broke my heart for the entrants.

It was held at a Racecourse. A large building, with a bar. Which opened. Quite early. I was almost tempted to try a nice cold beer. And I dont really like beer. I saw 2 sad men standing quietly, drinking beers & keeping their distance from the madding throng! How wise.

I only met one person I knew, it was nice to catch up with her. We used to take Doll making classes at the same studio many years ago. She has stopped making the dolls now, too, but she still makes clothes & still has her stall at the shows.

It was a shame the show was so cramped, & the organisers were apologising for the lack of space. The venue has 3 levels, which had all been promised to be made available for the show. Only 2 levels were available in the event, which meant that things were so crowded as to verge on claustraphobic.

Saddest of all was the lack of space afforded the quilts displays. The aisles were so close it was impossible to take photos, or stand back to admire.

With age & time, girths increase it seems, & if two stout ladies met in an aisle one had to almost knock down a quilt (or the other lady) to pass! Which did happen. You could not stand with arms outstretched. It would have pushed quilts out on the hangers. The feet on the stands were almost death traps to unwary feet, I saw 4 near dives as the people tripped over the feet. One of the near dives was me.

I felt sorry -& irked, I am ashamed to say- by mothers who insisted on bringing their children in large fancy prams, upstairs, to clog the space even further. And the poor little old ladies with walker frames... Some of them may have been quilters, but I saw filthy looks aimed their way. Mutterings were to be heard, with impolite suggestions.

At traders tables, the crush was five deep, which meant viewing the goodies on offer was impossible. I would have loved a chance to look at some fat 1/4s but couldnt get near. Some people of increased girth seem to be unaware of their sheer volume of space taking! It is not a nice sensation to be shoved aside by a large breast! Which seemed as hard as steel! And almost at ear level! Or a gigantic bum, the owner of which, seems to be oblivious of it's size.

I suppose we still imagine ourselves to be the size 10 or 12 we once were?

I did note one woman, who came hesitantly round the quilt aisles, & screamed,
"OH my God! That is my quilt. It is the first one I have ever made! I have a Rosette! I got Second! I cant believe it. Oh I feel sick!" All of us around her congratulated her, & she was so excited she was shaking. What a lovely surprise for her.

I am not one to push & shove. I will stand politely aside. I dislike being forcibly shoved, from any angle. I did my best to view the quilts. I managed to speak to a nice quilter about her longarm quilting business. I was shoved & flung around the competition entries of dolls & bears. One circuit round, & I was flung out the other end, on a surging tide of humanity.

I left long before the 'lucky door prize' was announced. I even felt lucky to have avoided a panic attack. I have never had one, but felt as if it might just be the day I would!

It was so nice to get home, put my feet up, & just be calm! Bliss.

Odd little gripes...

Just a few odd little gripes today.
I have been doing my best to avoid the Televisual crap we are fed.
The so-called news, which is mostly utter rot. The 'Current affairs' which are just free advertising...or maybe it is not free?? Whatever, they try to pass it off an 'news.'

GOM likes his sport, which sees me vanish from the room. I dont mind if he enjoys watching it, & I can always either read or find something else to occupy myself. Or, I can always fall asleep!

But I was trapped watching a new series on the idiot box. A fresh variation on an old story. Gorgeous looking young things, male & female, dressed to the nines in wonderfully authentic looking period custumes. And swanning about in wonderfully authentic looking medieval sets, complete with animals, & old Oak trees, and ancient dwellings, ancient tools, ancient weapons.

And then they speak. The dialogue was obviously written by some clot who has no real knowledge of how language was spoken back in the period. Phrases such as "You owe me one!" "OK, Let's go!"

While I dont expect them to use the Shakespearian mode of speech, I also dont expect them to use modern, American slang terms. Especially when it is an English story, & English production. Nit picking? Maybe. But they lost my viewer interest. I just found it incongruous, & downright irritating, in spite of all the other visual treats.

******
You probably know by now, GOM & I like to visit garage sales. I search for fabrics for the stash. And the odd neglected bear, which calls my name. GOM seeks out books, as he reads about 4-5 a week, which can get very expensive.

I find it very interesting to look at the books. I read quite different books to GOM, I like non fiction more than he does. I like to look at the type of books, and compare the people selling them. I am surprised when there are a lot of meditation, spiritual type books, & the vendors, are the rough & ready 'salt of the earth types'. I wonder if the books had been gifts. Or had they had a shift of consciousness, that didnt last? Intriguing always.

Yesterday we went to a sale that had a large table of excellent books, hardbacks, soft covers, large small. All 50cents each. Most of the books were in pristine condition. All were clean & had obviously been well kept, indoors.

I noticed a lot of them were for 'self improvement'. A lot of diet books, how to eat healthy, how to keep fit. How meditate, how to get the most out of life. I sneaked looks at the vendors. They did look quite fit, slim, & healthy. So perhaps they no longer needed the advice dispensed in the books.

There were also lots of novels, & GOM came away with a nice stash to read. We met a fellow Kiwi, who has promised to come & visit us. He really made us laugh, & his lovely Aussie partner seems nice also. He asked me if I was a Hori*. I laughed, & shook my head. He is, & proud to be so. And he speaks a language we can understand. They live close to us, so I hope they call in to visit.

I had to laugh when he asked if I was Hori. I am not really dark in colouring, & dont know that my features would indicate Maori ancestors. But strangely enough I have often been asked the same question. Our Great Grandmother, who was said to be Irish had quite a dark complexion, & we have often wondered if there is a dark blooded connection. It would be interesting to have one of those DNA tests, to determine if we have. My Beloved Brother keeps threatening to have it done. I think perhaps cost might prohibit him actually going ahead. haha.

*****
I am off out to a Doll Bear & Quilt show today. It has been moved to a Racecourse, which promises more space, so it will be very interesting to see if there are more traders than there were last year. I am stocking the wallet, just in case.


*Hori, pronounced haw-ry, is a slang term for Maori. It is a long time since I had heard it used & it made me laugh. The nice young man, who used the term, is a Maori.

Talking to my Daughter J, on the telephone. We keep in regular touch, we have a lot of laughs, & GOM, & the SIL, can never understand what we find to talk & laugh about. She told me yesterday that she feels happy after she has spoken to me, I always manage to lighten her day. Which I thought was a very nice compliment.


SG comes out, asks his mother who she is talking to.
DJ "Nanna".
SG, "Can I talk to Nanna?"
DJ "Here you are, then." handing over the phone.
"Hello Nanna"
"Hello Darling, how are you today"
His answer is always the same, "GOOOOD!"
We chat about various things, then he usually asks what Leo is doing.
Yesterday it went like this,
"Can you put Leo on the phone?"
"No, you know Leo cant talk to you"
"Well put him on & let him lick the phone!"
Yuk! I dont think so!!

I went down to visit them later, & was almost licked to death by the Granddog. Who is Leo's full brother, but looks nothing like Leo, & is a very different natured dog. But I do believe he has been invited to "lick the phone, to say hello to Nanna!"


Today is my eldest son's 45th birthday.
I find the thought so enormous, I cant really comprehend he is that old!

This was taken last December when I went to visit him, at his home in New Zealand.
He has grown the beard to hide scars on his chin, from damage he sustained when he was almost beaten to death. I wish I could spend today with him. My heart swells with love when I think of him.


No matter how old our children grow, we always hurt for them, when they get hurt. I think most mothers would rather endure the suffering for their child if they only could.

I know everyone has to walk their own path, & make their own mistakes. But it doesn't stop a mother from grieving about her child.

Happy Birthday M. Go well.

Tidy? or Messy?

Messy collection. CD's DVD's, owls, dolls, bears, knitting, you name it. CRAP.But it is my crap, & I cant seem to part with it.

This bookcase would be more of a mess, but GOM sits beside the bookcase, & is inclined to obsessively tidy it all. At the extreme right you can just see the untidy toybox peeping out behind GOM's chair.

And here, on my side of the headboard, more books waiting to be read or finished. More mess.

I need to do some downsizing of the growing messiness in my life. I am a hoarder, much to my dismay.

When I was growing up, the constant cry was 'tidy up'. We lived in a very small house, so tidiness was essential really. But I was never keen to do the tidying- nor did I like the result much.

I remember going to school, I would walk to meet a friend, & she was usually running late. She had 2 older brothers, & a baby sister. I loved going to use the toilet in their house, because they had a huge calendar that hung on the wall, & her brothers used to write each other rude messages on the calendar. I loved to read the messages, & would always come out laughing.

Because her mother was always busy with the baby or the brothers, the house was always untidy. There would be books all over the place, football boots by the fire, drying off. Newspapers scattered about. Socks airing by the fire on a rack. They had 2 very fat cats, & they would sit beside the fire, or all over the seats. The kitchen was a huge room with one end of it the dining living room area. It seemed always sunny & warm in that wonderful, busy, messy kitchen.

My girlfriend had long hair, & her mother would plait it for her, & she would squeal with pain, & pull faces. I had wished my hair was long, but when I saw the ritual of the plaiting, I was not so keen. My friend would be apologising for being late, for her mother taking so long to plait her hair. I would watch the comfortable, chubby form of her mother, surrounding her family in love, it seemed with her size, & cheery face.

But I loved it all. I would sit happily among the cats, & watch the motes in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, & bask in the lovely warmth of the atmosphere. I was always sad when it was time to go, & we had to venture out into the cold morning air, & run shivering through the cold frost laden gully, that swooped down so steeply, & darkly.

The earth would stand on stalks with the hard frost, looking like funny little dirt trees. The ice would be thick in the puddles, & our hands would hurt with the intense cold. Grass would be heavily frosted white, & would seem ready to break or shatter if touched.

When we got to school, we would go to the oil heaters lining the class rooms, & try to warm our hands. They stung painfully as they thawed out. I cant believe, looking back, that we were not allowed to wear long pants. Our winter clothes never included long trousers at all. I suppose it has all changed now, with the advent of track pants for children going to school, or long pants at least.

But I still remember the wonderful relaxed mess, as being so much nicer than neat. I had another friend, whose mother was a neat freak. There was no relaxed comfort there. She was thin, angular, awkward, & seemed to keep her house the same. No mess, no warming boots or slippers. No chaotic heaps of books or toys. Just neat, clean order.

And I recall another friend whose house was the opposite. So messy the chickens ran in & out of the house. One might encounter cat pee or worse in the rooms. The kitchen was the domain of dogs & cats on the benches. Incredible. People said her mother was mad, or at least a little crazy.. she may have been.

The chaos & mess in that house seemed audible, cacophanous, not the wonderful humming melodic notes of the first friend, nor the thin squeak of the neat house.

I wonder what sort of noise my house makes. A chaotic one I guess, with laughter & barks, perhaps.

I just know I always felt much more comfortable in messy houses where casual was the order of living, than in sterile tidy houses. On the other hand, totally chaotic dirt was not to my taste either.

Changing Seasons

When the seasons change, I seem to get a restless feeling. Autumn is my favourite time of year, always has been, it seems. I love the leaves falling, & the changing colours.

This is our little Maple. It is not spectacular when it changes, like some maples, but I love it even so. It always looks beautiful in Spring when it gets the new leaves, & during the winter there are huge clumps of Clivea growing underneath it, which are given sun in the absence of the leaves, & seem to love being snuggled up to the Maple trunk.



You can see the bright shiny leaves of another shrub I planted called Wizard Magic- I think!, or something of that nature. I fear it is going to be much larger than promised, so it will need trimming. It has pink flowers, & is a pretty sight, but it is a little smothered under the maple.







When we lived in Christchurch in New Zealand, we lived opposite the river in the Inner City Hotel. The River was the Avon, of course, & there are beautiful old trees growing on the banks. They have spectacular foliage & look wonderful when they change colour & drop the leaves.



Tbey are also very beautiful in the spring when they grow their beautiful lime green leaves, & then become covered with flowers like huge candles of pink & white. We lived in an upstairs flat, so the line of sight out of our windows was the magical trees.



And in the Autumn when all the leaves fell, it was fun to rush through all the leaves with the children. A safe & happy place to play, & throwing huge bunches of crisp coloured leaves was fun for adults as well as the children.



Because we had no grounds or lawns, at the Hotel, we used to spend quite a lot of time over in the beautiful Botanical Gardens, a truly magic place at all seasons during the year. Wonderful fields of daffodils in spring, & beautiful gardens of roses, & Irises and all manner of other flowers for all seasons.



A small pool was built in the gardens so children could swim or have a splash in the hot summer days. There was a wonderful area for picnics, & it is really a lovely park, so close to the city centre.



The edges of Hagley Park had huge trees of the deciduous type, that all shed their leaves & it was lovely to go running through the deep drifts of leaves, lying like great curdles of gold & brown under the bare branches, in the late Autumn sun.



GOM's parents lived within walking distance of our Hotel, & we would sometimes take the children through the Park on the way, & I think their favourite time was Autumn also, when the leaves were such fun to romp about in.



Once, GOM lost all his keys to the Hotel! We searched for hours to no avail. He knew a man who collected the leaves, as they did from time to time, & he promised to look for them. We never did find them, & all the locks had to be changed on the Hotel doors, although there were no identifying marks to say where the keys belonged.



The falling leaves were the bane of GOM's father's life. He had retired, & he loved to potter about so GOM offered him the job of keeping the Hotel carpark, & yards clean & tidy. He loved doing it, & he came up every morning to have breakfast with the children, so it was a nice chance for them all to really spend time together. He was a very nice man with a great sense of humour.



But he would get out in the yard, & he would grumble at those leaves! And he would cut all the flax really short, & trim all the shrubs to within an inch of their lives! And of course when the riverbank trees shed their leaves, they would inevitably blow across the road, & into the carpark, making him grumble all the more.








And here is a beautiful sunset taken up at Tuncurry Caravan Park, where Mr & Mrs NN have recently been staying for a little break. It is so tranquil looking.




Maybe it is seeing pics like this that have given me this restless feeling, that I would like to take a trip or just have a change of...of ... something!

Maybe I should give up this blogging lark. I have just discovered a blog that makes me feel all my writing is pedestrian scribble.

The blog is written by Lucy & in particular, a post titled 'Quiberon'.

I have been back to read it twice. I just love her command of words. A gift, talent, call it what you will.

And the photography - both hers, & her husband's, are wonderful.

Is it bad etiquette to recommend another blog? I hope not.
I do it purely out of admiration.

Moeraki Boulders.

After reading a very interesting post by Catalyst about Granite formations, it reminded me of these unusual boulders. For detailed information about them you can read this Site.

A classic boulder alone on the beach/

The children sitting on one of the boulders.

Our Son B with a group of boulders.

Daughter J atop a boulder with SB beside her.


And here is another view showing the miserable overcast day it was. It had been raining, & was rather cold.

This was taken at Lake Brunner area where we detoured to see some Maori art in this shallow cave area. Unfortunately the art does not show in this photo at all. It was very faint, & had been done on the wall behind us, & was supposedly very old. It certainly looked aged.

We had decided to take the children to Dunedin, for a fornight in February which is summer time, & school Holidays in New Zealand. I had never been down to Dunedin, & was looking forward to visiting this most Scottish of Cities in New Zealand. It has a Castle, & was a destination I had wanted to reach, since moving to the South Island.

Well, best laid plans, & all that. The weather did not cooperate, & we had nothing but drizzle, rain, & cold from the day we set off. We were motelling it, & the children had been looking forward to swimming in pools on our trip south. Normally during February it is quite hot & so it had seemed a lovely trip idea.

We spent two horrible cold & miserable days at two different motels, & decided to press on.

Shut in a motel with no comfortable lounging furniture, boring TV & cold cold cold, was no joy for any of us. The kids began to squabble as bored kids do, & we started to get that 'edge on the tone'. Smiling the teeth smiles! Snarling at the kids. Thrashing the egg beater hands about at squirming, fighting bodies in the rear seat. Driving through rain. None of it was good, so we decided to head for home.

As we were almost at Moeraki we decided to stop to see these mysterious boulders we had heard so much about. I am glad we did, because they certainly are unusual, & unique. The theory of their formation is very interesting too.

After we had taken the photos, & found some food, we headed off homeward, via a detour, so we could see the not-too-famous Maori art.

We were so glad to get home, & the kids were equally as glad to see all their familiar things to play with. The summer didnt improve, & I guess if kids have to be shut indoors it is just as well to do that at home, with all the comforts, & entertainment.

Summers are not always like that, but it is a bit of a pot luck affair, planning holidays.

I am ashamed to say I have still not been to Dunedin! My sons have both been there, & they say it is lovely. GOM had been there long before I met him. One day.....

Tagged Again.

Sometimes I feel my life is like a waterfall. Water keeps on falling, events keep on tumbling over the edge.I have been tagged again by Suees for the 7 Random things meme.
I have recently done this as a pictorial, so for Sue, I will have another go.

* I feel everyone has the right to be 18 at least once.
By that I mean the mindset of 18. You know, when you are teflon coated, you can fly, anything is possible! You are SO right, you know so much, you are so wise.
By the time you turn 19 you realise what a mistake it all was, but it was great while it lasted. Everyone is entitled to that teenage arrogance... just as long as it does not last!

*I believe if it wasnt for the mistakes we make, half the fun in our lives would not be. Some of the wrong turns in the road, lead to the most glorious views! The most laughter, the most sheer joy!

*I believe everyone should have the chance, at least once in life, to love with such a passion & fire, it would blind the gods. To be filled with the sheer wonder & joy of another, to lose sight of self.
I also think such a love can be for a child.


*I wish everyone had a chance to dance. No matter how clumsily or awkwardly. No matter what style. Dancing is such liberation.


*I found out with dismay, that the sea I so loved could also take my life away. I could swim, quite well. I just loved the ocean. I almost drowned under a log we had been playing on. It was a huge log, & it rolled on top of me, pinning me down. A friend saved me. I have never forgotten the fright of that near drowning. Much worse than when the huge breakers dash you down, & grind your face into the sand, & you eventually surface gasping for air, spluttering, filled, it seems, with seawater.


*No one should ever know everything about another. No one ever can. It should be so. My brother once asked our mother something, & she snapped he didnt need, or have the right, to know everything about her. It stays in my mind as true.


*My MIL was considered "the salt of the earth", by some who knew her. That "salt" in my wounds smarted for years.
The liberation I felt when I 'let it all go', was wonderful.
I dont really believe we can 'forgive those who trespass against us'... they have to forgive themselves in the end.
Someone, who nearly killed me, once asked if I forgave them. I told the person forgiveness was not mine to give. They had to forgive themselves. I still believe that to be true.


I dont usually tag anyone else for these Memes. A lot of people dont like doing them, or feel pressured about it.
If anyone wishes to take a tag, feel free. I always love to read other people's random thoughts- or any thoughts at all!
I know I am breaking the 'rules' here but hell, Isnt that what rules are for??

Party

This little Wilma, newest orphan bear. I think she is quite sweet. I am sure Leo would find her delectable! Leo finds anything delectable, including the little plastic jug for putting water into the iron. GGGRRRRR.




Yesterday we had been invited to a 50th Wedding Anniversary.



It had been fine all week. It is gloriously fine today.
Yesterday it persisted down all day. Heavily.



Isnt that always the way.


There were lots of nice people at the party. Lots of family, & friends & everyone wishing the happy couple every best wish. The happy Bride was showered with gifts- the happy Groom didnt seem to get any? It was also the happy Groom's birthday though, so I am sure he did get something.


They both looked so happy, it was lovely to think they had been married for 50 years, and still adore each other. The Bride suffers ill-health now, & has to stay in a nursing home at nights. But the Groom goes to collect her every day, and takes her to their home. And on good days, when she is feeling well, he takes her out for lunch or for a drive.


There was a beautiful new great grandson, 3 weeks of age. He was handed about, & admired by all who saw him.
"What is his name?" someone asked.
"Noah" was the reply.
"Oh... well, I see he has brought the rain!"


Lots of photos were being taken.
"I dont like these new digital cameras"
"No, I dont either, you never get to see the photos!"
"Oh but 'they are all in the computer', they tell you. But you never get to SEE them"
"I would rather have an old camera, so I can see the photos!"


"Do have some of this trifle, it is delicious. Or how about a sausage roll then? "
"Oh, no thankyou, I had something before I came".
"Well! That was a stupid, wasnt it!"


"Does anyone want a beer?"
"Wine,? there is wine."
"Well there is tea or coffee if anyone is interested"


"Oh the Bride is enjoying herself. I was her Bridesmaid. I am not needed today"

"I remember our honeymoon. We went in a caravan. The biggest disaster ever. Never went near a caravan again. A disaster!"

"I was a very thin bride. The Bride was a very thin Bride. She is thin again now, it has gone full circle."

"How does it feel to be a Grandmother?"
"I dont really know yet. It is too new."
"Doesnt he look like K?"
"He looks like a baby, they all look the same to me."
"Men always say things like that."

"Before you go, are you sure you wont just have some of this Lasange?"
"No, I dont actually like eating lasagne"
(I wonder what he prefers to do with it??)


It was a lovely party.
I wonder if GOM & I will last the distance?

A Brother

First, look at this beautiful Jonquil, kissed by the rain this morning. The perfume is quite intoxicating.


This is a pic of my brother & I taken when he was about 4 years old, so I would have been about 8 I suppose. Just ignore me, as it is my Beloved Brother I wish to blog about.

As you can see, he was a sunny little boy, & always had a smile, & twinkling blue as blue eyes. I always felt a little jealous of him when we were young, I think. My mother's eyes always looked so soft when she looked at him, & she always gave him the first kiss. I felt I had to ask for mine. She denied this in later years, & I know she loved us both, but a love for a son can be different.

My brother has always been a happy optimistic person. A glass half full man. When we were young growing up, we tended to not be too close, age difference playing a part I am sure. Plus I could be a bossy b of an older sister. But my brother still seemed to love me, no matter what.

Once we 'grew up' we became best friends, & remain so. We almost communicate in our own language at times. We can read each other's minds. we are likely to get an attack of helpless laughter unexpectedly, & find it odd that noone else 'gets it'.

We spent some years apart when my brother went away to school, & I started a career as a nurse. (which I didnt complete). When my brother was about 16 he came to live with our mother & I again. He got an apprenticeship ~ remember those??~ as a Printer. He loved words, books & everything about the printing trade when he did his apprentiship.

He had to do most of it by correspondance, as there was nowhere in Auckland where he could go. That seems incredible today. He had to send his work backwards & forwards to Wellington. He once answered a question with "Several or more" An answer came back, "Several IS more!" We have teased him about that for years.

He worked initially with a one man band. Well, when I say that it was a two man printing shop, with my brother as the apprentice.

He bought himself an old hand printing press, & spent hours restoring it, & sorting his type & just loving it. We all called it the "Clean Machine". I do believe at one stage he had parts of it in one bedroom after he was married, & needless to say, his wife was not impressed one bit.

He kept it in our mother's garage, & would happily spend hours playing with it, -even days would have passed had our mother not called him in for meals. He did small jobs for friends. He became friends with an artist, who gave him some of his art in lieu of payment.. they are now worth REAL MONEY. My brother would never part with them.

Our mother worked shift work. She would prepare meals for my brother & leave them for him to reheat when he got home from his 'day job'. He would often put them on to reheat, then nip up 'just for a few minutes' to his beloved Clean Machine.

Once our mother enquired as to how he had enjoyed the stew she had made, & Where the Hell is the Rest of it?? So he valiantly lied & said he been extra peckish & had eaten it all. Of course our mother exploded & told him not to be so stupid, there was whole pound of meat in there, & he couldnt have possibly eaten it all! I dont think she ever found the burnt pot, I think he cunningly bought another & disposed of the original. He did that many times. Many delicious meals went the way of charred ruins. He would completely lose all track of time. He would suddenly remember with horror, that there was reheating food. He would run down to the house, to be greeted by charred to death food, & how he never burnt the house down, no one knew.

He still has his machine, now not in working order & his type is scattered about, in disarray in boxes. He still loves his books & words. He has a remarkable memory for poetry, & dirty ditties, & can recite so many just from memory. He can tell many hilarious stories about what happened to his 'ring' when he was lifting the "Clean Machine" into place in the old garage. A friend came to help him, & reckoned he had tried to make him a Eunuch.

The old shed which housed his beloved old hand machine, has long gone, & been replaced twice. Firstly with a huge double garage, now with his new house.

Printing is not the art it once was, & the business my brother is in now, is... well a bit rotten. A related field I guess. Not books or art. Fast food containers. That sort of thing. A bit rotten, IMHO.

Anyway, here we are today, a sort of after picture. Taken last November when he turned 60. He still has his twinkly eyes, though they dont twinkle quite so often. He is one of my favourite people in all the world.

Keep passing the open windows!

Impotence- no not that type.

This is just before I get wound up for my RANT for the day!!


Here is my sweet Honey, just sitting behind me, keeping me safe.







And here is Leo, just waiting to peep into my sewing bag. I made it to take to those disastrous quilting lessons.
It was very grudginly admired.
Another lady asked if I would make some to sell. I felt quite flattered.
I made one for DJ too, in fabrics of her choice.








And now on to the Impotence.


Not a physical impotence.


A mental impotence, which leads to damaging, useless rage, which in turn ends in sadness, & other damaging emotions.

What do you do when faced with that type of emotion?
Do you fight back?
Do you take action to redress things- dont get mad, get even?

Someone I love dearly gets constantly damaged by someone they love. I watch this with impotence, because there is nothing I can do.

But I find I wish I had some physical release from the anger I feel. I want to run out & SMASH something. I dont act upon the urge of course.

And I think that pin-sticking an effigy just might work... so I dont resort to that either. And I feel guilty wishing harm upon the person inflicting the harm. I feel as if those thoughts will come back & slap me in the 'life'.

So, do I act, or in this case, not act, out of goodness, doing the 'right thing', fear, or superstition for the consequences? I am not sure.


What do you do for your 'displacement' activity?

I am not sure what I do. I have so many 'displacement' activities. Perhaps now, blogging has become one.

There are times when people just piss me off so badly I wish I was an author so I could write about them, & get my revenge! Maybe that is why I am not....

When GOM gets seriously out of sorts over something he usually does what we in the family refer to as "Eating worms". He goes & sits quietly in an old clapped out chair in the garage, & sulks- ie eats worms. Or he 'cleans out his drawers'. Always know he is feeling very low, if he does that.

One of my sons worries himself almost ill over the state of the world. He beats himself up about things he has no power to change. He has various displacement tactics. He reads a lot.

Another of my sons, who has suffered serious brain damage, is now so 're-patterned' in his thinking, he seems to think in cliches... patterns which he once would have scorned. I was not present for his rehabilitation processes. I am just glad he is alive, & can still think. He is altered forever, but still retains certain personality traits he always had. His survival techniques led him into dark caves & treacherous reefs. He almost could be said to have not survived.

Perhaps one of my survival ploys is to retreat into the past too often.

Not always to the dark shoals & pools. Sometimes my reveries are filled with the sun & laughter. The bright fields of gold, from my childhood.

The friends who walked beside me. My family, who love warts, black moods, depressions, & holes in my thinking... all keep me afloat.

My mother told me I was a very strange child, given to sudden tantrums for no apparent reason. Perhaps the black dog dogged me from birth....



The sun has burnt away the thick fog from the morning- again. We have been getting heavy, thick fogs for the past 4 days. The heavy humid nights weigh me down. I toss & turn, unable to sleep. Perhaps with the sun shining today, I will lighten up!

Almost a Quilty Post.

This is a pic of the poor little confused bulb flowering in my garden. It must think it is Spring, but of course it is May here, & Autumn. The lack of clarity is due to the photographer's poor shot. The Camellia is the last on that little shrub.

The beautiful large ones are 'share' blooms from our neighbour's tree, which hangs over into our garden. It has full rich blooms & many of them have white ripples on the petals. Yesterday's pic was one of the neighbour Camellias.

This is almost a quilt post. I am suffering from a serious lack of quilt drive. I have too many projects sitting about dejectedly. No desire to pick them up, either. I am not letting it stress me, just wonder why.

When my Daughter J first introduced me to quilting, she was living with us for a time. I watched her doing her neat little handstitches as she patched her huge Queen size hand pieced quilt. I know I am far too impatient for hand piecing to suit me, but I have actually done a hand pieced one.. well the top of it is done.

We had a wonderful local quilt shop way back then. I used to go with DJ to look at all the luscious fabrics, then the magazines. Australian Patchwork & Quilting was a favourite. Then I decided to get into this & try it for myself. My children gave me a lovely charm pack of pretty fabrics, & I made myself a very basic charm square quilt. I was very happy with that, but of course I then realised I had caught the 'bug.'

I wasnt going to be able to stop at one. My next quilt was one of June Gilchrist's patterns, Home is Where the Heart is. I understand this has always been a very poplular pattern, & I certainly enjoyed making it. DJ & I would haunt the LQS's in search of the perfect piece of fabric. I discovered I love applique, & did a lot of it on my machine, but also grew to love hand applique.

One day, in our travels looking for Quilt shops, we happened upon a shop near the sea. Before I knew what was happening the woman who ran the shop had talked us into taking classes at her shop. She had lots of nice quilts on display. She had a class in progress. Everyone seemed to be head down, & working away.

So off we went next week, on a Wednesday. Chose our quilts to make. I chose one of a garden, with machine applique for a technique, along with lots of other blocks using various techniques, thinking I may as well learn 'properly'. DJ chose a mostly hand pieced country quilt. And we started to sew, & expected to have fun, & laughs & enjoy ourselves.

WRONG!! We were not there to enjoy ourselves, we soon discovered. We were there to do as we were told. We were not encouraged to laugh, talk, or have any fun at all. Misery could be seen etched on some faces, & apart from hastily secret mutters to each other talking was considered rebellion. Or betrayal. Or something... perhaps something 'free'.

One day we went to find another class had run over into our time. The lovely lighthearted tutor began chatting to me, & showing me 'how to'... quickly pounced upon, & removed from my earshot & vision. Perish the thought we might learn something free!! The tutor was left with her mouth open, mid laugh. I quickly put my head down again, & wiped the smile off my face!

As we slunk miserably out of the 3rd class we vowed not to return. But DJ had paid for her fabrics. I had no idea where to go from where I was. So we went back. And suffered again. Once I got shrieked at "WHAT are you doing!!?" I cant remember the 'crime', but we all jumped. What a strange, uptight, woman she was.

DJ being much like me, was given to laughter, & tom foolery, & irreverance, we couldnt understand why things had to be so buttoned down. As we silently lugged our machines out to our car, we sneaked secret looks at some of the other students. And gradually we made the discovery that we all felt the same way. One woman told us she used to walk along the beach to the classes, & lecture herself on her gutlessness. "Today I will stand up to her" she would promise herself. Then, she told us, she would cry all the way home along the beach mentally flogging herself for being gutless! She was doing the hand sewn country quilt the same as DJ. They even dared to secretly swap some patterns.

Of course in the end we just left. We couldnt stand it any longer, & couldnt see the point of having no fun. And just as we had decided to go to classes at another, closer, Quilt Shop, it closed, so we were on our own again. It is a wonder I kept on quilting, but I found I could enjoy myself doing my own thing, & never mind if it is the 'right' way or not. Whatever works for me.

And the shop where we took the lessons, closed too...which was no surprise at all.

How Lucky Am I!

This is a photo of what I found in my letterbox when I returned from shopping today. A beautiful Heart made for me by Jo from New Zealand.

I just love it, & it is so beautifully made. I love the colours, the work, the little dragonfly, beads, ribbon roses-in fact everything about it!

Oh Thank You So much Jo, you made my day!!

***** ******* *******

I have been challenged by Joyce to do the 7 unusual or hitherto unknown things meme, & also have been tagged for a similar meme by Stomper Girl.

I have a feeling I have done this before somewhere along the blogger trail, so I decided to do a Pictorial.

I never get tired of seeing flowers, & regard each one a complete miracle. Yes even the 'weeds'. A flower is a flower.

My favourite herb is Parsley. I can eat it by the handful. I loved my Mum's the best, as it grew like a hedge, & once when I was gobbling it, she told me to be careful, as the local cats liked to pee on it! Gulp, ....I hope they hadnt got the bit I had eaten.

My head is a "Ball Magnet"! If there is a ball being tossed about, batted, or kicked, it will be sure to head straight for my head. I have been smashed in the face, almost had my nose broken, almost lost teeth - all from balls that were seemingly nowhere near me. I have been heard to involutarily shout "Shit!" as a ball at the beach hit the back of my head. The boys were so stunned they said "Sorry Lady!"

You can be sure if I decide to grow some succulent thingies, they will be mercilessly attacked by every insect known. Holes will appear like magic, & the poor plant will be rendered almost skeletal. Why why??

I love lemons. If the Nuns had told me to suck a lemon to wipe the smile off my face, it wouldnt have worked. I have been known to suck on lemons quite often. Particularly the lovely Meyer lemons we have.

I love bears. A dog ate my Teddy when I was little, & he was never replaced. Ever since then I have suffered bear deprivation anxiety. This has caused me to rescue, & hoard, funny odd bears, & hold them dear. My daughter just gave another, dear little Bear in a pink jumper. Isnt she sweet?

I married a man I refer to as GOM. He does many strange, funny, odd things. One of them has been dancing with a ballerina Poodle called Cassie! And this, when he professed to 'hate' dogs. What a fake he is!

Well, that is about it. Hope that is ok for the requirements of the tags.

I have rather a lot of weirdnesses. Some I have aired before. Some I may never even notice!

I rather enjoyed that, & it has certainly lightened my mood.

I am glad I went for the pictorial.

Loss

This is a photo of my beloved Mother, with a young me. I am not sure how old I was. Perhaps a year.

My mother was born in 1920 & died in 1997.
She was a small built woman, who worked very hard to support my brother & I, alone.

We had our stormy patches... I could be a nasty girl at times. I was a troubled, rebellious teenager, who I would have hated to be the mother of.
But she was my best friend, & we weathered our storms to become very close.

I still miss her every day of my life, & know this will never change.
She was funny, shy, humourous, sharp, snappy, angry, sad, lonely & loving.

She was our Little Mary.

Prophecy

You wrote "I LOVE YOU" in the sand.

We walked, arm in arm, along the beach.

By the time we returned, the tide had washed your words away.

The clouds hid the sun.

The wind was chill.

Little Bo Peep

This little tumbler was given to me, when I was Christened. Shock horror., yes, I was 'Christened'. My Grandmother was a great 'believer'. My mother wasnt, but she bowed to my Grandmother's wishes. So this tumbler must be around 64 years old. It is in perfect condition, & has never actually been used. But I have taken it with me for most of my adult life, through all the moves, & various lives I have had. And, sadly, I cant remember who gave it to me.

I wish I had a better camera, or knew how to get sharp photos of porcelain.

This is the front view, of poor Little Bo Peep with her crook, looking for the sheep. I am sorry it is not clear.

And beside the tumbler, is a little old egg cup, that had been given to my mother when she was a child.

As a child, I loved the rabbit, but was always rather afraid of the slightly odd looking egg! I was never sure whether he was grimacing, or rejoicing, the fact his head had been topped!

********

Before we moved up to the our 'Resort Paradise' house here, we rented a house, in a suburb of Sydney. The young man who owned the house had bought it as an investment. The existing gardens at the front had been mulched, so they needed little care. The back yard, had been filled with lovely trees, but the young man had them all removed. His idea had been, he didnt want them falling on his house, & damaging the building.

Which I always felt was a great pity, being the lover of trees that I am. And because we knew we would be moving, I didnt grow things in the ground, apart from some herbs. I had plants in pots. They did really well.

I had several Azaleas, & they were beautiful to see when in bloom. I planted Grape Hyacinths & narcissus & daffodils in the pots too. They seemed to like each other, & the bulbs had made a lovely show for me.

When we were moving to this house, I decided to re-pot the plants. The bulbs had only been in the pots for one season, & I was curious to see if the roots of the Azaleas had grown through the bulbs or damaged them in any way.

Imagine my delight, when I discovered the bulbs were being cradled & protected by the roots of the shrubs. It was almost as if they were guarding them, so neatly had they grown around them. It touched me so much, I have never forgotten the sight of them, so lovingly protected & nestled among the roots.

I know plants live happily together in a garden, but for some reason, I had thought things may be different in a pot. I hadnt realised that the 'respect' -for want of a better word- would be the same in confined conditions.

We humans could learn a lot from our plants.

Monday. 14th May 2007

And yesterday was Mothers Day, here in Oz, & New Zealand, & it would seem, around the whole world.

Now that my dear Mother is gone, I usually send a card to a loved Aunt. She was away tending her brother's 90th birthday. How I wished I could have been there!

But I had some of my family, & my wonderful grandchildren to visit, so I was very lucky.

Here is SG. He discovered the wonders of hair styling! His sister used some gel on his hair, & he did the rest. His choice of pose- real "Attitude"!!

I asked SG where Batman was, & he said "I didnt want him to come, because it is a day for Mums, not for Batman!" Which I thought was very thoughtful of him.

I had a very pleasant day. I hope you all enjoyed your Mothers Day too.

This seems to be determined to publish as an entry from 12th, which is when I drafted the Bo Peep.

However it is now Monday 14th.

A Query.

This has irked me all day.

Why do water tanks have corrugated sides??

I watched a truck with water tanks for delivery, & remembered all the tanks I have seen - & they are many, being the latest necessary accessory for a house, because of the water crisis we currently have...(mainly due to short sighted planning...oops, I will probably be arrested for that!)

I suppose there must be some website I could go to, where all would be revealed.
But that is not as much fun, is it, as asking friends on the Internet???

Unexpected Treats, & Unexpected Fears.

The water keeps on flowing under bridges, & time keeps passing. Those things dont care about man's worries or fears. Those things are transitory, the water ever changing. Time ever passing. The Carousel of the Seasons keeps revolving.

Man's little blip of a life on the scale of Time seems so insignificant, if viewed in that context.

Yet, how we fret & worry & cry over small things that affect our daily lives. Things we feel are so important, yet seem so paltry if viewed from what I call the "100 year theory."

It all wont matter a damn in a 100 years, & who will care? About small events, small 'slights', small triumphs. Or even large ones?

I think I believe in 'the good you put out, will return to you, somewhere along the course of your life.'

Tragedies that some good people receive, would seem to put the lie to that theory. So I am not sure I am totally convinced.

But I try to live my life with that in mind.

Of course there are often events or happenings that come along to throw you off guard, or catch you unawares.

This is a pic of SIL, with a dog called Rex. When I first met Rex I was in awe of him. A little frightened I suppose. He was such a large dog, & he had mixes of breeds known to be aggressive. Rottwieler, Doberman.
SIL had bred him, from 2 dogs he had owned. Rex was SIL's brother's dog.

He was a beautiful, gentle, obedient dog. He lived with DJ & SIL for a while & we had him to stay when they went away. He really was a lovely natured dog. And now, when I see pictures of him, I think he was quite handsome really.

He has gone from this planet now. He lived a good long full life. And he taught me that another fear I had initially had was groundless.

Another fear I had is not one I am proud of, & I dont often speak about it, because I feel so ashamed about it. I was shocked to discover the feelings of fear when I realised how I felt.

GOM's niece has Cerebral Palsy. She was only 18 months old when I first met her. She had bright eyes, & seemed a happy little child. She had surgery to try to improve her walking ability, when she was about 3. She never walked again. It seemed so unfair. And she still seemed such a positive little girl, & so cheerful.

But I watched how her condition destroyed her family life. I watched her little brother suffer in the background. I watched her mother turn into a bitter lonely indignant, & angry, woman, who refused help or friendship. I watched her father tease her, taunt her. Watched her Grandmother suffer ill health because she had her every weekend.

And when I became pregnant & my MIL used to insist on visiting me every weekend, uninvited, & bringing her little disabled granddaughter with her, I hated it. I felt so ashamed. It was not the little girl's fault. But I was so filled with fear that I might have a child so afflicted, I didnt want to see her. I hope I never showed this, to the child at least. She always seemed fond of me, & I was fond of her. But she was not my blood kin. And there was the fear.

And we had a little black cat. I loved him so, but after my son was born, I didnt want him near me. What is that nature does to us, that makes us change in our attitude to some things? I know I am not the only one to feel that way. But I hated it. I wanted to still feel the same about the cat, but I couldnt. I know he knew, because he 'moved house'. We would see him about the district, well fed, & well cared for. And I was glad he had a better life, than I felt I would give him.

As it happened my babies were born healthy. And I burned with shame for having felt such awful feelings of rejection, whole I was pregnant. Unexpected, irrational. Reason told me I was being stupid. But I still couldnt conquer how I felt, no matter how irrational it was.

I never felt or feel that way about strangers. I still wonder that I felt that way when I was fond of that little girl.





As to unexpected treats, my children were/are! They were good looking babies, they grew strong & healthy. They were fun kids to have, they loved their afflicted cousin, with the cerabral palsy. They treated her with love, & respect. They have been a joy to me for all their lives.

And other unexpected treats, are good friends. We had an unexpected treat yesterday of a visit from friends. I love the fun that can result from unplanned get-to-gethers. The laughs, & jokes. The serious 'discussions'.

Some of our 'acquaintances', shall we say, dislike 'dropin' callers. I used to be a bit alarmed if the house was a shambles. Now I couldnt care less. They dont call to see the house. Usually they call to spend time with us. So any unexpected callers are welcomed with open arms- & barking dogs!

The blurs at the edge of your vision.

Raining, pouring. Great for the garden.

Not so great for the woolly babies.

Leo came rushing in, looking like a wet sheepskin rug, & smelling very much the same. I dont know how he got caught in the rain, as he normally doesnt like it much. Honey on the other hand, couldnt care less about it, but she seemed to only get a little damp.

There are past bloggers, who no longer blog, that I miss. I caught a glimpse of one, rushing past, with commiserations, on another blog. I know, in part, why she went. I hope she is happy. I hope all is well with her.

Another blur at the corners of my mind, or vision, I am not sure which, is a fleeting glimpse of a shadow. But usually the strongest of the sensations, produced by the blur, is the smell.

I am frequently 'visited' by a smoker. I smell the smoke so strongly, I often get up to check if there is anyone there. Of course, there never is. When I used to go to stay with my mother, she would smell the smoker also. We had no idea who, what, or how. My mother had long ago given up smoking, & so had I, so it was really noticeable. But not explicable. (is there such a word?) Goodness I am getting lazy & ignorant!

I am also frequently visited by a perfume. Not one I am familiar with, just a very sweet one, & I feel it must be a 'woman', though of course, there is no one there, & I see nothing. Sometimes the perfume is roses. I guess if I have to be visited by smells, pleasant ones are preferable! I used to believe in ghosts. Now I am not so sure I do. But the smells remain to visit, so where do they come from??

Once after our Employer had died, GOM & I both woke to see him sitting in the corner of our bedroom, in an armchair we kept there. We sat up in bed & stared at him, then each other. We could not believe our eyes. Then the image faded, & he was gone. It was a very odd feeling, & I think we were both glad we had had a witness to share the apparition. I am sure someone who dismisses such things could have a rational explanation for what happened. But it sure seemed real at the time.

************

Another 'blur' at the edges of my vision, was performing or 'committing an Intersection Choke'

This occurred in the days when I was a busy shop proprietor. I used to have to drive to work, in the peak hour traffic, to the city where the shop was located.
This particular morning there was clotted traffic as usual. Buses always delayed things in the crush of it all. I got almost over an intersection, when suddenly all movement stopped, & a great bus, broken down, blocked one of the lanes. There was bumper to bumper traffice ahead, & behind me. But my 'arse end' of the car was still hanging out, over the white line, by about a 1/4 length of the car.

I had my daughter with me, she used to come to work for me in the school holidays.

As we were sitting in the car, waiting for the traffic to move, I became aware of a horn blaring at me. I said to DJ 'What type of idiot, who can see we are stuck, would sit there honking the horn?'

I didnt have long to find out "What type of Idiot" A thumping rapping on the car window, & there was a huge cop standing in full Fancy Dress! (oops, Uniform) Gun, Batton, Dark Glasses, Hat. Glaring at me, & snarling at me, with a sneering curl to his lip.
"I have just observed you to perform an Intersection Choke"!!
"Show me your license!"

As I stuttered & stammered the sod wrote me out a ticket telling me how & where I could pay the hefty fine. I dont know what else, or where else I could have gone. I felt it the most unfair infringement ticket I ever got. I felt so intimidated by this hulking monster of a policeman, with gun & all, I just sat there like a gibbering idiot.

We had not been living in Australia very long. In New Zealand the police dont carry guns. I felt so mortified. I wanted to sink into the seat, & never emerge. My daughter was crying. I suppose at least I didnt cry.

Now I think I would argue for reason. I would write a letter explaining the details of the terrible crime of "Intersection Choke!" I have been held up many times since by people 'performing intersection choke'.

There is never a policeman about then, though!
I am the only person I have ever heard of, who has been 'done' for Intersection Choke'!

I once ran a red light, in a panic, in early morning mist, when they were closing the road for road works. I wrote a letter, explaining the circumstances, & got off. GOM got 'done' by a red light camera, for doing the wrong speed, at the wrong time FIVE MINUTES outside the time limit. I wrote a letter for him, & he got off.

On the whole I am a law abiding citizen. I respect the police- mostly. I have never been in trouble with the law. I obey, to the best of my ability, the road rules. I dont speed. I am courteous.

I couldnt believe a policeman would bother about a little thing like that. Why werent they out chasing robbers, or thieves, instead of monstering little old-ish ladies?? I made a policeman friend of ours in NZ laugh when I told him the story. And I laugh about it now.

But I couldnt laugh that day.


And I am not really in laughing mode today either. I still feel like C**P!

How Much Does Happiness Cost??

This is a spinoff from a post by Lee reagarding Happiness.

This Batman cost 50c & brought unbound delight & happiness to SG.

We have just taken him off to his Pre School for the day. He was glad to go, & though he has a little asthma today, he is very bright & ...well, happy!

The older I get, the more I define happiness in the really small, free, things in my life. And I think 'being happy' lies in the art of catching the joy as it flies. It is always readily available to review at leisure, much like Wordsworth's Golden Daffodils.

I am still feeling blech, so wont be doing much today. I had a somewhat painracked night, so didnt sleep much.

We have some serious TV watching we can do, we have been given copied programmes to watch, so tucking up & resting is not really a hardship.

Except I would prefer it be cold if I am going to be sick. It is annoyingly humid, & quite warm as a result.

Do The Eyes Have It?

What do eyes tell you about people! Do the "Eyes Have It"? I tend to think they do, and eyes are one of the first things I notice about anyone.

I mistrust a person who does not meet my eyes.

I know that in some cultures it is considered rude to look directly into the eyes of another. But in our open & friendly world, in New Zealand & Australia, it is customary to meet the eyes of people you meet & greet, & during conversation.

Do the eyes show the emotions of the person you are talking to.

Do eyes show the batterings & beatings that life sometimes dishes out?

Are the eyes of the young so innocent & trusting? Time has not stamped the disappointmets, or hurts, into their eyes. Life's 'tumble dryer' has not yet worked on the young life reflected in those eyes.

I wanted to have a wider variety of eyes to put here, but people get a bit cagey if you try to photograph them up close in the street- a stranger!

So, I have stuck to people I know, & love, & of course, thrown in some of my eyes.

And another feature which is intriguing, are the eyebrows.

Son B works in the field of retouching photographs. He says the eyebrows can make or break a face. They put a tremendous change on a face.

I always regret having plucked my eyebrows a little too vigorously when young, because now they look thin, & no longer grow.

Life caught me up over the last couple of days.

I am a little unwell, but have been to the Dr, & should soon be as good as new- haha, I wish!