This totally made my day.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Aprés les lizardes...okay, that *might* not actually be French...
Mr. Handsomepants takes a few moments from his backyard skink catch-outside-and-bring-to-the-house-to-release-and-be-much-admired-by-my-human program to appreciate a sturdy vintage cotton chenille bedspread slung over his favorite chair.
He's into comfort.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The cheese spot.
I made tacos last night. We hadn't had Mexican food for years (at least three or so) and so I decided to put together the fixings for tacos.
They. Were. Delicious. Homemade guacamole, aged cheddar cheese...I even put the taco shells in the oven to crisp up a bit. Yum.
As mum and I were sitting on the lounge in a post-taco glow (I had four) and burping contentedly, mum said,"That hit the spot."
I replied,"That hit a lot of spots - the spicy food spot, the guacamole spot, the cheese spot..."
As I said that last one, I realised what it sounded like when I said it out loud. I looked over at mum, and sure enough, she had a slightly shocked, vaguely bemused look on her face.
"Cheese...the C H E E Z Z Z E spot", I enunciated very clearly.
She snickered and turned back to the TV.
"Well, yeah they were good, but...", she said.
The mortification is still with me.
They. Were. Delicious. Homemade guacamole, aged cheddar cheese...I even put the taco shells in the oven to crisp up a bit. Yum.
As mum and I were sitting on the lounge in a post-taco glow (I had four) and burping contentedly, mum said,"That hit the spot."
I replied,"That hit a lot of spots - the spicy food spot, the guacamole spot, the cheese spot..."
As I said that last one, I realised what it sounded like when I said it out loud. I looked over at mum, and sure enough, she had a slightly shocked, vaguely bemused look on her face.
"Cheese...the C H E E Z Z Z E spot", I enunciated very clearly.
She snickered and turned back to the TV.
"Well, yeah they were good, but...", she said.
The mortification is still with me.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Stuff and the tossing of it.
I am a packrat/bower bird combo that sees potential (dangerous word, that, meaning "it may not look like much NOW, but after I take those classes in welding, glass-blowing and shop, it will be a FABULOUS...combination of things") in many different objects in various states of disrepair and unlovedness. "I could do something with this" - also an ominous phrase that only enforces the packrattery. Okay, perhaps not "packrattery" - let us agree on the term...artistic vision.
And that's how I have come to have ice cream tubs full of the crystal drops and bits taken off broken and almost-tossed-out chandeliers, whole cubic metres of fabrics, ranging from upholstery fabrics that are an eye-searing combination of peacock colours a whopping 8 metres in length to mini-scraplets that will be suitable if I need a single square inch of this perfect blue for, say, a doll quilt (*note to self - add lessons on quilting to the list started above). I have vats and vats of beads (glass or semi-precious ONLY, thank you - no plastic - pfui), collections of (as-yet-unread) books that I bought at various op-shops and the Lions Bookstore but haven't yet had time to read (mostly because I am sorting and re-sorting - not tossing out anything, just re-sorting again - my various stashes - and no, the irony is not lost on me). Oh...and clothes that were a great deal at a garage sale / op-shop / almost tossed out by a friend, clothes that *almost* fit. Yes, I feel you there with me on that one. Half my closet of clothing is devoted to clothes that I will be able to wear once I lose some 10 kgs. Throw them out or give them away? Never. They MIGHTWILL fit...one day.
Why am I telling you this? So that you will fully appreciate what I did today.
I was rearranging my bookshelf, and noticed a plastic bag of cuttings from various magazines that I had saved (and not only saved, but dragged from overseas where I had been living for several years). These cuttings would probably be of a pretty dress that I thought I might like to try and make one day, or of design elements that were neat and deserved to be kept or duplicated in glass mosaic (yep- another class needed there), or of places I would like to visit. I say that's probably what they were as I chose not to look in the bag, really actually had no real idea what was in there, and so instead of opening up that can of worms for inspection, I just put the whole thing into the recycling bin.
I. KNOW.
The guts.
Damn that felt good. I highly recommend you do that occasionally.
Although, perhaps you could let me have a look at what you are getting rid of first...just in case. You know. :D
And that's how I have come to have ice cream tubs full of the crystal drops and bits taken off broken and almost-tossed-out chandeliers, whole cubic metres of fabrics, ranging from upholstery fabrics that are an eye-searing combination of peacock colours a whopping 8 metres in length to mini-scraplets that will be suitable if I need a single square inch of this perfect blue for, say, a doll quilt (*note to self - add lessons on quilting to the list started above). I have vats and vats of beads (glass or semi-precious ONLY, thank you - no plastic - pfui), collections of (as-yet-unread) books that I bought at various op-shops and the Lions Bookstore but haven't yet had time to read (mostly because I am sorting and re-sorting - not tossing out anything, just re-sorting again - my various stashes - and no, the irony is not lost on me). Oh...and clothes that were a great deal at a garage sale / op-shop / almost tossed out by a friend, clothes that *almost* fit. Yes, I feel you there with me on that one. Half my closet of clothing is devoted to clothes that I will be able to wear once I lose some 10 kgs. Throw them out or give them away? Never. They MIGHTWILL fit...one day.
Why am I telling you this? So that you will fully appreciate what I did today.
I was rearranging my bookshelf, and noticed a plastic bag of cuttings from various magazines that I had saved (and not only saved, but dragged from overseas where I had been living for several years). These cuttings would probably be of a pretty dress that I thought I might like to try and make one day, or of design elements that were neat and deserved to be kept or duplicated in glass mosaic (yep- another class needed there), or of places I would like to visit. I say that's probably what they were as I chose not to look in the bag, really actually had no real idea what was in there, and so instead of opening up that can of worms for inspection, I just put the whole thing into the recycling bin.
I. KNOW.
The guts.
Damn that felt good. I highly recommend you do that occasionally.
Although, perhaps you could let me have a look at what you are getting rid of first...just in case. You know. :D
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Shredding - the past and a person
My dad died about 6 months ago. Metastatic colon cancer. Gruesome. Thank goodness for RDNS and lots and lots of morphine. In some countries, he would have died in agony, possibly OF agony. Australia rules for allowing people to have what they need for pain.
Didn't mean to go on like that. Though I could definitely still go on about palliative services available to Australians. It just makes such an impression on me as I have spent much of my life in the US with US medical insurance. Many (most) Americans have no insurance, so I can't even imagine what those people would go through without pain meds or chemo for that matter.
Right. Digressed from my digression.
Anyway, mum has been starting to clear out Dad's stuff. His clothes were first. Mum had my brother come over about two weeks after dad died. He took most of dad's stuff so that was good. Then she got rid of the books. That was hard to watch. His library that he had spent years amassing, that he would spend hours with in his "reading room", that we would get in trouble for touching (god forbid actually putting a book back in the wrong place!). Those books were donated to various institutions, so I guess that was okay, but it was still difficult to do as he didn't leave specifications about what goes where after he dies. This stresses mum - what if we gave his things to the wrong people?
This week we are going through papers and bits that he collected over time. He had wanted to write books on history about war in Europe and military stuff and politics, and to that end he had collected all kinds of research. Reams and reams of paper with highlighting and arrows and references all over it. Sadly, the cancer toyed with him for a few years before finally killing him before he could really get that going for real. This was his big plan for retirement, and would keep him busy until he was 80 or so.
Today I went to the library where they have the big-ass monster shredder and destroyed all of it.
I shredded someone's dreams and hopes and plans today. That sucked.
Didn't mean to go on like that. Though I could definitely still go on about palliative services available to Australians. It just makes such an impression on me as I have spent much of my life in the US with US medical insurance. Many (most) Americans have no insurance, so I can't even imagine what those people would go through without pain meds or chemo for that matter.
Right. Digressed from my digression.
Anyway, mum has been starting to clear out Dad's stuff. His clothes were first. Mum had my brother come over about two weeks after dad died. He took most of dad's stuff so that was good. Then she got rid of the books. That was hard to watch. His library that he had spent years amassing, that he would spend hours with in his "reading room", that we would get in trouble for touching (god forbid actually putting a book back in the wrong place!). Those books were donated to various institutions, so I guess that was okay, but it was still difficult to do as he didn't leave specifications about what goes where after he dies. This stresses mum - what if we gave his things to the wrong people?
This week we are going through papers and bits that he collected over time. He had wanted to write books on history about war in Europe and military stuff and politics, and to that end he had collected all kinds of research. Reams and reams of paper with highlighting and arrows and references all over it. Sadly, the cancer toyed with him for a few years before finally killing him before he could really get that going for real. This was his big plan for retirement, and would keep him busy until he was 80 or so.
Today I went to the library where they have the big-ass monster shredder and destroyed all of it.
I shredded someone's dreams and hopes and plans today. That sucked.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Merged.
So I have long been toying with trying to figure out how to separate my various interests into blogs. For example, I wanted a blog about op-shop finds, a blog about stuff that I have made, a blog about stuff that happened throughout the day...you know...life stuff.
Finally I realised that they didn't have to be separate, and so, here we are.
I look forward to hearing from y'all and hope that what I write about will be interesting to you. Or that you may be consumed with jealousy by treasures found using my mad op-shopping skillz. Heh. Snort.
*mwah* for now.
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