I really must learn to take my own advice.

Late last night.
While we were all in bed.
Old lady Leary lit a lantern in the shed.
And when the cow kicked it over.
She winked her eye and said –
‘It’ll be a hot time, in the old town tonight!’
Fire! Fire! Fire!

Repeat ad nauseum gaining speed and momentum. 

Couldn’t get this out of my head last night when I was trying to get to sleep.  I have no idea why.  Some gin and tonics.  Cooked dinner.  Some red wine.  A few laughs.  A bit of Tramal.  Good friends.  More red wine.  Interesting  conversation.  Hot shower.  Some Valium… then off to bed with this ditty stuck in my head. 

One of these days I will learn to heed my own advice and refrain from mixing drugs and alcohol. 
I must not mix drugs and alcohol!!! 
I must not mix drugs and alcohol!!!

I miss my boys

It’s all good and well to go away and see new things, meet new people and engage in new experiences but at some point I inevitably end up missing things from home.  The objects I miss seem to vary incredibly depending on where I am, who I am with and what I’m doing at the that point in time.

While at Festival for example, the first thing I lament the absence of is a decent bathroom… surrounded by good company and plenty of diverting entertainment…a flushing toilet and a real shower takes on monumentally luxurious importance in one’s imagination.  While traveling through Turkey and Pakistan last year… filled with the novelty of being immersed in sightseeing antiquities, absorbing differernt cultures and meeting interesting fellow travelers… it was news from home (God bless the internets) and a bowl of regular breakfast cereal (one more fucking brekkie of olives, feta, tomatoes and cucumber and I would have exploded!) that took on unusual import.  Going off to Canberra-Babylon… where one has ready access to bathrooms with showers, fantastic company, loads of red wine and all the good comforts of home… it is merely a decent night’s sleep in my own bed that I wish for.

But through all of those experiences with or without showers, internets and /or muesli what I miss most when I’m away from home is my boys.

I am so far away


Back on the road – what a glutton for punishment am I!

With Equinom only just having returned from overseas stints in South Korea and a three month stay in Washington doing an internship for Senator Chuck Nagel… she’s now off to Canberra-Babylon like everyone else.

What can I say about my oldest friend. We met in Grade One at the Catholic school that I am now inflicting on my son and my recollections of our meeting and our early years together are quite vivid. We met on the first day of school – lots of nervous Mums biding goodbye to lots of crying children (kids back then never had day care etc and weren’t accustomed to being separated from their parents for any duration) and I had gone up to a girl named Libby Free and asked her if I could be her friend. Libby’s reaction was to grab Michelle Bobberemein’s hand and say ‘No! Michelle’s my friend!’ in a most decisive and final way. And Equinom came to my rescue and said ‘Don’t worry you can be my friend.’

And thus began a friendship that has spanned 30 years so far. And one couldn’t ask for a better friend than Equinom. She never reproaches one for not being in touch, and she may slip off my radar for several weeks at a time only to resurface for Apple and Cinnamon tea and it’s like we’ve been hanging daily all along. We catch each other up on the goings on in our lives and discuss mutul acquaintances, travel, poliitics and who knows what else.

And I can always rely on her for her total and honest opinion – in fact she’s one you’d say is honest to a fault. Once, she came up to me, held my hair back from my face and said “You know Borys, if it weren’t for your pretty hair, you’d be quite ugly” which I took as good advice that I shouldn’t ever consider shaving my head 🙂 We were seven at the time but the advice still remains good. i’ve heard her say to people she’s just met such absurdities as “You know orange really isnt your colour is it?” or other equally blunt observations.

But I love her dearly in spite of her obvious defficiencies in the tact department and will mss her pithy and quick witted quips…. no one grasshoppers like Equinom!


Don’t go to War Daddy….

War Day… which tends to affect me not a whit.  I’ve been in the SCA for about 13 years now, and have gone to watch the wars exactly once.  And on that one occasion, I was quite shocked by the raw violence being enacted in front of me by all my friends and acquaintances….. it was really quite confronting.

I guess it’s because we spend our whole lives being taught that we shouldn’t hit people, and here’s a bunch of my close friends and acquaintances, many of them easily identifiable by their heraldry much of which I helped design and can pick out a mile off… and I’m watching them smack each other around the head and running into each other full tilt encased in metal armour.  What is wrong with this picture.?!?!?

Anyway, ever since, I’ve avoided War Day as it tends to remind me that even the most intelligent, kind hearted and charming of men have the capacity for extreme violence given the opportunity… and I don’t even want to think about what it means that these guys are attracted to this as a recreational pursuit!

Impaired decision making capabilities? Who me?

My toaster is getting dodgier and dodgier.  It’s doing that Eddie Izzard thing where the turny dial thing is lying to you.. you want 3 Toast and it gives you 2 Toast so you push it back down again and then end up with 5 Toast.   Shits you to tears it does.  So this, coupled with the fact that there have in the past been frequent arguments in this house about exactly which point the onus of responsibility lies in the toast making process, has prompted me to go shopping for a new toaster today.

Which I did.  I thought I wanted one with two halves so you have your four slice toaster and put down just two at a time.  Some of them even have separate heat turny dial controls so they could be left set to two people’s difference preferences which would be just grand.  I thought I wanted one of those… until I saw the fucking price!  One Hundred and Eighty Nine dollars for a toaster!!!  OMG… not in this life time!!!

So no toaster for me.

Instead I found a shiny new electric kettle/jug that is super quiet and has a little bell that goes ‘ding’ when the water is boiled that I totally  didn’t need but thought was kinda cool anyway.  🙂