tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62943920669161504602024-03-14T00:01:07.719+11:00Luna Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-36357975975109960422015-02-21T14:17:00.007+11:002020-12-04T22:08:24.987+11:00BLAZE 9<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggIwhJDnbebH1ssQ9dknrY3cVqlbIxU3b0Mr6SMnfMplqoNVGcHuzjS8LKKy4CDfpcxbWP38y2aEmtPEIdIU1B4tkG93tT8QlRiJ6co_DSbJ9ieI31OI07vV_IFPslT20XtWfJOmAiJvI/s640/354.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggIwhJDnbebH1ssQ9dknrY3cVqlbIxU3b0Mr6SMnfMplqoNVGcHuzjS8LKKy4CDfpcxbWP38y2aEmtPEIdIU1B4tkG93tT8QlRiJ6co_DSbJ9ieI31OI07vV_IFPslT20XtWfJOmAiJvI/s400/354.jpg"/></a></div>
A great opening night at BLAZE 9, the CCAS annual emerging artist showcase. As usual at these events the highlight - besides the art - is the people that you meet. All enthusiastic about art in it's many, varied forms. I was happy with the feedback my work got and pleased that the work communicated my intentions with a level of success. Also interesting to see the audience interact with the work in ways I hadn't predicted. For example going right up to the most recent work - Medicine Chest III: Subversion - to look through the holes light was seeping out of. That's 250 plus watts of light they were looking right into.
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Ruby an dI kicking on after the show.
Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-59187416156620315102013-06-07T21:40:00.004+10:002020-12-04T22:01:29.848+11:00Good News in Sydney<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDv7Lh9a5GliwnmEKRpVZgxQVDeMpMqNwY_UtkJnTC0IXws1KIzyd_gOzKGmSiOkStB_47AacvauNMvWcHXGqtSghCCLuWQvtvOo9GAogIveIVrnsy4-tfvXnmtZWVR6S7x3BebS3nCS4/s640/a.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDv7Lh9a5GliwnmEKRpVZgxQVDeMpMqNwY_UtkJnTC0IXws1KIzyd_gOzKGmSiOkStB_47AacvauNMvWcHXGqtSghCCLuWQvtvOo9GAogIveIVrnsy4-tfvXnmtZWVR6S7x3BebS3nCS4/s600/a.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb3bpqiNggP4iFO2OLXgrI7N5JTGzrbnOLWg-P3Z3w06hHg4XMBb9hzNXK7LnhGHY1RieZ1o6vdUr_J3p2TkW6pNd5vqYXrclAQDiuSYaY5F6W62P4I8f9QKLimrqU1ZUAjrQjzBIHGo/s637/aa.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="637" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb3bpqiNggP4iFO2OLXgrI7N5JTGzrbnOLWg-P3Z3w06hHg4XMBb9hzNXK7LnhGHY1RieZ1o6vdUr_J3p2TkW6pNd5vqYXrclAQDiuSYaY5F6W62P4I8f9QKLimrqU1ZUAjrQjzBIHGo/s600/aa.jpg"/></a></div>
Recently we took a trip up to the Westmead Children's Hospital to see the Pediatric Orthopedics specialist and get Archie's Perthes'disease checked. We might have done that at home if his specialist hadn't been in the papers all year for serious surgical negligence, recently suspended, with more news coming out a couple of weeks ago of unethical experimental treatment on a nine year old (seriously, what a creep!). Instead we travelle dto Sydney. We spent Saturday catching a bus down to the Rocks and then the Manly Ferry out to the beach. Not that we swam, maybe not that warm, but t-shirt weather.<br />
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The biggest blessing though is this: Archie's bone has made a full recovery since diagnosis six years ago. The amount of bone growth in the last 18 months has been astounding with complete regrowth of the femoral head and close on the original shape. I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise given how much he has grown in general (and how much he eats!) but at no point were we led to expect an outcome quite this good. I nearly kissed the doctor.....and again when he gave A these three pieces of parting advice:<br />
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1. Listen to your Mum and Dad.<br />
2. Work hard at school.<br />
3. Enjoy sport.<br />
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That alone was worth the $270 bill.<br />
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<br />Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-21526062642765339812013-01-17T00:13:00.003+11:002020-12-04T21:55:22.557+11:00The Unexpected<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bkwSwGMHSsbc9xrmPXNt5n8pYDgvry9dbaPTDKt3e9MtYTjAYxY7veXo46t2g-iHJ8HyZZzYhBnL4jqp6jp3tGz1rWNmxn3bJ23VMvHeDk1-ijnQzYs506uWJX9RveQ6UB2BK-MZH34/s1600/IMG_8552.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bkwSwGMHSsbc9xrmPXNt5n8pYDgvry9dbaPTDKt3e9MtYTjAYxY7veXo46t2g-iHJ8HyZZzYhBnL4jqp6jp3tGz1rWNmxn3bJ23VMvHeDk1-ijnQzYs506uWJX9RveQ6UB2BK-MZH34/w640-h480/IMG_8552.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRrjiBIjbQ4qRsnppLqhNOJ90x5HoyM52rPdhxPilXkRbf2JUr6hxwM_TyuRxdYlLaYEQvTIyaczc_dfgAX3IRh4a2Dho3DS9usChtHRoJYolcbkSZkLioH2q68JX-7EC3ovH8iR3Hds/s1600/IMG_8557.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRrjiBIjbQ4qRsnppLqhNOJ90x5HoyM52rPdhxPilXkRbf2JUr6hxwM_TyuRxdYlLaYEQvTIyaczc_dfgAX3IRh4a2Dho3DS9usChtHRoJYolcbkSZkLioH2q68JX-7EC3ovH8iR3Hds/w311-h300/IMG_8557.JPG" width="311" /></a></div>Last week was my fifth infusion of <a href="http://lunalanding.blogspot.com.au/2012/09/hellooooo-intragram.html">Intragram</a>. Even though I was told it would get easier as the months wore on, it hasn't. The days afterwards are still a lot like you'd imagine the after effects of colliding with a Mac truck would be, with at least one day on the bath room tiles surfing waves of nausea. This time around was my kind of weather - a classic hot summer day, the school holidays and the bliss of retreating into a cool, still home afterwards. Archie had had his birthday party the weekend before at "Tunzafun" - little boy heaven with dodgems, laser tag (whatever that is), and unlimited games - and all the presents he'd received from invitees were still strewn over the lounge room floor. He is still spending hours playing blissfully constructing, sorting, building etc. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Before long, with myself parked on the lounge just watching him idly, no thoughts about what I needed to get up and do next, a sense of contentment had come over the room. For the rest of the week the two of us spent our time together really not doing anything much. I stayed in pyjamas, slept on and off in his company as he went from toy to toy. I made us snacks, we watched video's together. Even the day I spent most on the bathroom tiles we managed companionability. It's a strange wonder that what could have been an otherwise difficult week, has been lovely. </span></div>
Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-72488911285159267132012-01-12T11:23:00.007+11:002020-12-04T21:50:03.169+11:00That awkward moment when you realise the cowfish is bigger than the shark.First week of school holidays. I get up and thank Archie for letting mummy sleep in so late. Archie suggests reward for himself - game of badminton for us in the rain but we agree instead to drawing undersea tableaux. Assemble large piece of paper, coloured pencils and sticker book of sea creatures for inspiration. Agree Archie will draw shark with me assigned to humble cowfish. Unfortunately forego discussion on scale and upset erupts when we realise Cowfish is much bigger than shark, not reflecting reality. I explain perspective — that maybe Cowfish is closer to us and shark off in background. Explanation makes thing worse. Shark meant to be major player, capable of eating Cowfish. Explain again principles of perspective. Ruby is laughing. Archie is angry at older sister laughing, after all what is so funny? Send Ruby to bedroom. Agree to begin new undersea tableaux where shark is major player. Careful to check specifications for new Cowfish. Cowfish gets axe. Further clarification reveals my role now more Design Hack as opposed to co - collaborator. Design Hack told what to draw (Weedy Sea Dragon) then to finish colouring in of shark as Archie has tired of that and needs to move on to school of fish the shark will be eating.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5dbpXcJVsQRpOB3ZBIcqjYwwXwzrquJe_yih8XOebdmJUx0fWfhR_Wffi2CGEUmVYeCvkr1sEnJ6oeBZVUkZD6fET1JWE-LNBJl2OJWoGBq89bK_0Uygl21ZpW5Uh_GEI0DGarnSNLI/s640/shark+1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5dbpXcJVsQRpOB3ZBIcqjYwwXwzrquJe_yih8XOebdmJUx0fWfhR_Wffi2CGEUmVYeCvkr1sEnJ6oeBZVUkZD6fET1JWE-LNBJl2OJWoGBq89bK_0Uygl21ZpW5Uh_GEI0DGarnSNLI/s600/shark+1.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2NmpiN5MtotPTdjOnL5u8xQL1RCZYPtxN_tC4ODfSlnZ59ywclf0DLhlcgUJrJe0U8H8X0BKLkYOlgqPQgPjO5OC1TU8qUtKm76yn6UelFuSaJaJtqCdFRQAD-j-LFfkip12MKzpgIk/s200/shark+2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2NmpiN5MtotPTdjOnL5u8xQL1RCZYPtxN_tC4ODfSlnZ59ywclf0DLhlcgUJrJe0U8H8X0BKLkYOlgqPQgPjO5OC1TU8qUtKm76yn6UelFuSaJaJtqCdFRQAD-j-LFfkip12MKzpgIk/s600/shark+2.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-57404520044720580282012-01-05T22:19:00.002+11:002020-12-04T21:48:36.866+11:00The sex life of bugs.One of Archie's favourite things to do is collect bugs and study them. Every month my mother buys him a bug magazine that comes with a collectable real life insect or bug petrified in a block of perspex. Can't help but notice bug magazine editors are obsessed with bug sex. Every time walk past Archie's room at bed time Col is reading him the latest instalment of bug sex life in lurid detail. "Eeeew" I think to myself.
"Don't be so immature!" Col calls out. Ooops. Had not realised I was thinking aloud again.
After school Archie catches a Cricket then studies reference material to determine the cricket is female. He then sets outside again to find cricket a life partner to mate with.
Jackpot! Doesn't take long. My, that was quick! I say. Archie introduces crickets to one another then sets about making their tupperware home comfortable, complete with flower petals (their preferred food) and some mood setting grass. Having read they lay their eggs on a dirt nest he constructs one in corner of tupperware love den. Ambience must be spot on as by next afternoon Archie calls me in. Hurry! he says, Crickets are real life mating, I can't believe it, hurry mum!
OK I say. Here I am, yes, that is certainly something! Ruby gives me reproachful look suggesting Archie's innocence is inappropriate and it's high time I furnish his young mind with the facts of life presumably so he can adopt the requisite amount of embarrassment for these matters.
The following afternoon Archie invites his Nickie over to see the chirpy new family pets (actually it is only the male who chirps, a mating strategy) and together they clean out the tupperware den, discussing the chirpy one.
"He's already mated with his wife, did you know Nic?"
Ruby and I, at work in the next room, exchange looks. Surely we heard wrong.
"Nic, did you hear me? He's already mated with his wife".
Ruby gives me another, I'm telling you look.
Archie and Nic decide tupperware home would be more interesting with some more crickets and neither care to wait for the arrival of baby crickets. A search in the backyard proves fruitful and three more are introduced to the now crowded Tupperware den. They apply glad wrap then head out for the trampoline which will occupy the next hour before Nic's dad arrives, whereupon the boys will then run and hide forcing his dad and I to yell threats into the neighbourhood for the next twenty minutes before they show themselves and Nic can be taken home.
The following afternoon a grim discovery. One of the crickets has died (dehydration?) and the others have pulled it's legs off. I have reached my limit. "Archie it's time these crickets go back out to the yard", I say.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCiJrk4hpPhr2BFN3E8NIcvdKtl-me5qlVii00AhcB0OwrxbixZ6ugmBAlXDwV_jtZ9H8EIZdaZI-hJ5ohE5Ab97J04wh8UVdjxVbcWYtn8avIqvVk3NpJXc4xr-0HL9IYC6fwGDUpu4/s400/bugs.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCiJrk4hpPhr2BFN3E8NIcvdKtl-me5qlVii00AhcB0OwrxbixZ6ugmBAlXDwV_jtZ9H8EIZdaZI-hJ5ohE5Ab97J04wh8UVdjxVbcWYtn8avIqvVk3NpJXc4xr-0HL9IYC6fwGDUpu4/s600/bugs.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-4249040869941085002011-09-07T18:24:00.003+10:002020-12-04T21:46:45.942+11:00Kokeshi Doll Chandelier<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_l7VU7ixp_wGrB6uT-PldCGn3yqu3Z4GnOuDV-lhzuA-Z9qDwd-2B8AxN7smVWRkjuxSENssbpYuUyzWoNoa0MgYaXHE6MDyInO7zu-sinpnRAJKBqBk82EpmhA1n0JCmuygsVgVBVk/s511/kokecho+chandelier+1_picnik.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="511" data-original-width="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_l7VU7ixp_wGrB6uT-PldCGn3yqu3Z4GnOuDV-lhzuA-Z9qDwd-2B8AxN7smVWRkjuxSENssbpYuUyzWoNoa0MgYaXHE6MDyInO7zu-sinpnRAJKBqBk82EpmhA1n0JCmuygsVgVBVk/s600/kokecho+chandelier+1_picnik.jpg"/></a></div>
Bigger than than the sum of it's parts? For Ruby's bedroom I made this chandelier, combining two of our favourite things - Kokeshi dolls and an old chandelier -a lucky junk shop pick up for $5. The kokechi dolls more expensive than we would have liked but by then we were fixed on the idea.
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Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-61955807181333758672011-05-20T15:51:00.004+10:002020-12-04T21:42:56.410+11:00Please No Kisses.About a year ago,Archie made a sudden switch to his Dad as Most Favoured Parent, as boys do around this age. That's a while ago now but doesn't mean I have given up trying. In fact I have come up with a brilliant reverse psychology strategy that involves going in to say goodnight, after story time with Dad, and saying I just want to give him a little cuddle, but please <i>no kisses</i>. It goes like this.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Me: Goodnight. I'm just going to give you a quick cuddle. Remember though <i>no</i> kisses.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Him: (confused, and hiding under the covers to resist my cuddle): No kisses? Why not? You <i>love</i> kisses.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Me: Yeah, I used to. But not any more.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Him: (still confused) But why?</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Me: (casual) I don't know why. I just don't like them. So just a very quick cuddle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What happens then is I get covered in hundreds of little delicious quick kisses ("just to annoy you").</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I <i>know</i> what you're thinking: I really should write a parenting book.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBvzwcSfKhR6hXoEZLmfrqPQhTFKe3IgjX2REsiyVJ-CBKg2NsrIO2b679F_etg6VdJPUSczIUrzQQmF-2vXbthY0hBGMgFpqxS4dHjhmyH1ljGZ48yPvf0Q99rs_Iy20rRDd_uDx2ng/s2048/mum+and+archie.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBvzwcSfKhR6hXoEZLmfrqPQhTFKe3IgjX2REsiyVJ-CBKg2NsrIO2b679F_etg6VdJPUSczIUrzQQmF-2vXbthY0hBGMgFpqxS4dHjhmyH1ljGZ48yPvf0Q99rs_Iy20rRDd_uDx2ng/s600/mum+and+archie.JPG"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-15529252627688185242011-05-08T20:37:00.001+10:002020-12-04T21:40:36.954+11:00Mothers Day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKHOvrpIfBT-Xu79F4Mtz7ShyphenhyphenIrhp0ClGSDIWvkKhydsvTJa-nZ-eZU4VLsDd3LsT-XleiJ8_Gn-21o09xrwkLj7tQSZJmYWgO3QLGOZXjpUSjyi75Ja9iQXwTLcs0PU-vS6kUGvWziw/s400/mothersdaycard+archie011.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKHOvrpIfBT-Xu79F4Mtz7ShyphenhyphenIrhp0ClGSDIWvkKhydsvTJa-nZ-eZU4VLsDd3LsT-XleiJ8_Gn-21o09xrwkLj7tQSZJmYWgO3QLGOZXjpUSjyi75Ja9iQXwTLcs0PU-vS6kUGvWziw/s600/mothersdaycard+archie011.jpg"/></a></div>
Here is the mother's day card I received today from Archie. The theme appears to be "ways mum neglects us"- drawing, painting, sculpting - juxtaposed with a secondary, more insect related theme - a mid air supremacy battle between a bee and dragon fly. I just love getting my hand made cards from the children but especially this year as it was starting to look doubtful. On Wednesday I had heard the "hushed' arguments between Ruby and Archie. Ruby had just been deluged with assignment due dates for school and, worried she would not have time for card making, was trying to ensure her brother would do one. Disagreements ensued, voices raised and then I hear the words no mother wants to hear from their little boy's sweet lips "So when will I get the money?"...Hmmmmm
I did have to intervene and explain no one wants a card under those circumstances and we all let the vexed situation pass. So it was with delight today I recieved a handmade card from each - both produced under just the right conditions. Awwwwww...Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-20007538872001036482011-03-19T21:23:00.003+11:002020-12-04T21:35:10.438+11:00Lino Cuts and Waffle Poisoning.I now have a sculpture that doesn't look unlike me (the goal) and if you are brave enough scroll down to see it's latest progress. I'm only just brave enough to put it up. I actually think it looks more like Special Agent Dana Scully from the TV show The X-Files
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9Oj8mHw7_eoel4efrPtX67-czrAXJ_o30X5y_Q1wl6eFznqhRH27Dw5Yq5DIbt-WW9ONiV3ZHhSCos_dNWtf2GqCCnRhYnqksqVQWUVbOQ47lyQDCQNFzc7GWoBEtm2XEQj7qupN4Lc/s400/sculpture+side.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9Oj8mHw7_eoel4efrPtX67-czrAXJ_o30X5y_Q1wl6eFznqhRH27Dw5Yq5DIbt-WW9ONiV3ZHhSCos_dNWtf2GqCCnRhYnqksqVQWUVbOQ47lyQDCQNFzc7GWoBEtm2XEQj7qupN4Lc/s320/sculpture+side.jpg"/></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMshwNUu80tl-QVEbwzqI0uaD0r1jOSWDiUEng7vD08jH2vRpWj8hbJPj9QErDFqKHKpA1w87nJwJzJFeCWDZYBuN2q8v3WdxlXn2MCf1hLCu6vrP0_n7W-tVRsqW2iHkrb3lF67rv8Kk/s640/green+lino.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMshwNUu80tl-QVEbwzqI0uaD0r1jOSWDiUEng7vD08jH2vRpWj8hbJPj9QErDFqKHKpA1w87nJwJzJFeCWDZYBuN2q8v3WdxlXn2MCf1hLCu6vrP0_n7W-tVRsqW2iHkrb3lF67rv8Kk/s320/green+lino.jpg"/></a></div>
I also confronted my fears of lino and just committed to doing the best with what I had available -an artists book titled Intimate/Obscure which uses lino print self portraiture to hint at aspects of yourself.
Lastly a couple of photos from my mothers birthday brunch last week. Mum has been unwell lately so dad took control of the festivities and produced an impressive effort of a birthday cake. My little boy had also put in requests for his favourite foods - waffles and fresh donuts with sugar and cinnamon. My overriding image from the day is him sitting up at the bar eating waffle after waffle after waffle long after everyone else had finished. Then springing up on the news there would be no school the next day for 20 victory laps of the table. Mum and I agreed he showed all the early signs of acute waffle poisoning...and I think the photo somehow captures that...
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_Fntv5DCLXjJEgMlWekYYb9yujIlXRwMG1WPZKk49w_eehg7F9oiUg9i9wK0QnBGGAYezPvkX1DjrSV5HuS39PnX08BcHCFxyBtUUEsSpdNFKe2vIq_XJQfgh1eyyle74FtqwXU8sXU/s400/a+run.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_Fntv5DCLXjJEgMlWekYYb9yujIlXRwMG1WPZKk49w_eehg7F9oiUg9i9wK0QnBGGAYezPvkX1DjrSV5HuS39PnX08BcHCFxyBtUUEsSpdNFKe2vIq_XJQfgh1eyyle74FtqwXU8sXU/s600/a+run.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-16740111230361904662011-02-13T21:36:00.011+11:002020-12-04T21:22:13.443+11:00Birthday Cake Trials
We seem to have survived the first week back at school. A huge one for Ruby - starting high school - but she seems to have thrived in the new environment and hopefully there's no looking back now. Business as usual for Archie but plans ramping up to hold his birthday party for 17 six and seven year olds at an establishment so aptly called "Monkey Mania". The planning alone has him in high spirits next week is keeping him in high spirits. I practised making him a dinosaur cake yesterday and lucky I did. Why is it so hard to make it look like the picture in the book? I am sure they are leaving out vital information. Something like "Must use professional food colourants available only at industrial outlets on the outskirt of town" or "Just outsource the cake!" Lets hope the actual party effort is an improvement.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvv9W2w1mXv6pTk5UR5WJZQX-hDQAi-QTPDPruaTP5dRlnsgZWoN_lQ6whmUTzqatt3pkgpxVbiEgaxADbLbfZdklYxyiLj-H7qdfDnWD-Pw4kViB26UDHUBl7qhp_B8h3aRJtio9EQT4/s320/green+cake+2_2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvv9W2w1mXv6pTk5UR5WJZQX-hDQAi-QTPDPruaTP5dRlnsgZWoN_lQ6whmUTzqatt3pkgpxVbiEgaxADbLbfZdklYxyiLj-H7qdfDnWD-Pw4kViB26UDHUBl7qhp_B8h3aRJtio9EQT4/s600/green+cake+2_2.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-12751296251158043892011-01-29T17:29:00.002+11:002020-12-04T21:14:51.350+11:00Fashion Advice From A Seven Year old.Yesterday, Archie gave Ruby some advice. Fashion type advice for her first day at high school next week. I can't be sure but I think she took it on board. Like any twelve year old girl Ruby can be very particular about what she wears and I try not to intervene. I did insist on our week down the coast however that she choose a hat and we found a really nice one she was happy to wear, even with a small nautical motif embroidered on the side. Driving home yesterday I suggested she might even wear it at school (we live near the only public school in the state that has no school uniform or dress code) to protect from the heat. No? Bad idea. I offer to embroider some black felt skulls over the nautical motif for a more morbid take on summer. No again. Then Archie, listening in, offers up his advice "You could get one with a monkey or dinosaur on it" he suggests. "They are very pop'lar wight now". which made Ruby smile. Which means, like I say, that she must be taking it on board.Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-26047358415192526972011-01-15T10:19:00.003+11:002020-12-04T21:08:51.248+11:00Rejection.Archie has just turned Seven and is all into his Dad at the moment, not so much me. He just puts up with my hugs and cuddles at most. He only wants Dad to read him stories. Last night I went in to to say goodnight after his Dad had finished reading and turned out the light. I crept in. "Goodnight Archie", I said softly and hopefully, giving the little bundle a quick cuddle. He growled and out from underneath the sheets came his cross little voice, "Oh look! See this is why I can't get to sleep at night!".
Which reminds me of a bit of a shameful incident a couple of weeks back. I'd counselled myself that I couldn't keep forcing hugs on Archie and would find a different way to love him until he was ready to appreciate his mum again. As I walked up the hall I decided I would not feel rejected but instead sit at his bedside and explain that much to his relief I would not be forcing cuddles on him anymore but would still be loving him and when he was ready to cuddle again to just come and get one. "Ahhh," he shrieked when he saw me come into his room and hid under the sheets. I lost my patience. "You know Archie", I said crossly, "There are some little boys in the world who don't even have a mother to cuddle them!".
"Oh dear" came Col's reproach from his station at the computer. I know, I know.....Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-8266874589452663222010-11-23T12:11:00.023+11:002020-12-04T21:00:18.489+11:00Wardrobe Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGq812yXJFYMhQe_7OZXWVUHUFr5X3IaEMxK3ZRyxX054NxJJ-SpmFVvKq3hw370xCpMUJx-Lu_ZX9DbBtdQl-Y2V2kJiUIKHyBsqb7yJRsZHkWLDqQlR933slLCj0e2AThjlRhkZn6hY/s400/ruby+wardrbe+closed+1+pic.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGq812yXJFYMhQe_7OZXWVUHUFr5X3IaEMxK3ZRyxX054NxJJ-SpmFVvKq3hw370xCpMUJx-Lu_ZX9DbBtdQl-Y2V2kJiUIKHyBsqb7yJRsZHkWLDqQlR933slLCj0e2AThjlRhkZn6hY/s600/ruby+wardrbe+closed+1+pic.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmccX9u3k36Tlcw4u6Ug1FuR00QN1jVvk1A-TVtHW1Q37Q5V4InGiXu2UkcMPSbTUWXXoFAhPbbchU0AJ04rlQMgx4U4iHEvNJ-jCEytaeKn_O_Uvy7vp3OQaZNTZQRkUbQCvaowZIes/s400/ruby+wardrbe+open+pic.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmccX9u3k36Tlcw4u6Ug1FuR00QN1jVvk1A-TVtHW1Q37Q5V4InGiXu2UkcMPSbTUWXXoFAhPbbchU0AJ04rlQMgx4U4iHEvNJ-jCEytaeKn_O_Uvy7vp3OQaZNTZQRkUbQCvaowZIes/s600/ruby+wardrbe+open+pic.jpg"/></a></div>
It's over a year ago now Ruby and I found this crusty old wardrobe at St Vinnies and decided it was exactly what we were looking for. Okay, it's getting close to two years ago this Easter and the eggs have already begun arriving in the shops. Anyway - here it is...and I LOVE it. It was a smart decision to leave it in the Magic Garage. I doubt I could have done anything like the job the elves did, let alone even finishing the job at all. Let me just say that the photos don't do it justice at all. It's made Ruby's bedroom comolete.
BEFORE:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN_wNFrvuotfbHpTHjPiXytr2RDVVAmAoOWmlNBXcUWT1rR3GJjq6qiz-DezQPp0Cx_OYAKCNskp84lHM7f17WDZQ7LdebdJ9sxE2MdOxTluStBTyPT1R6JyWwdVspDXT4VWRd_IAaMY/s640/rubys+bedrm+1+pik.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN_wNFrvuotfbHpTHjPiXytr2RDVVAmAoOWmlNBXcUWT1rR3GJjq6qiz-DezQPp0Cx_OYAKCNskp84lHM7f17WDZQ7LdebdJ9sxE2MdOxTluStBTyPT1R6JyWwdVspDXT4VWRd_IAaMY/s600/rubys+bedrm+1+pik.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEp4gKd_T4dvmRuA4LFBQ7VRKoqm0UH0Kr1sjhYnRjwGfdC-UgVSdHJhOnZR1nlZh-roEFCPmMWvFrFPpDciPNoE7yhwWLC0dw5dU4HF1nQm68qMg5LLEyDlQxfzTS6Xsj0nS6R844Z4/s499/WARDROBE.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEp4gKd_T4dvmRuA4LFBQ7VRKoqm0UH0Kr1sjhYnRjwGfdC-UgVSdHJhOnZR1nlZh-roEFCPmMWvFrFPpDciPNoE7yhwWLC0dw5dU4HF1nQm68qMg5LLEyDlQxfzTS6Xsj0nS6R844Z4/s600/WARDROBE.jpg"/></a></div>
Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-15985802376682257232010-11-15T13:01:00.003+11:002020-11-22T19:33:43.221+11:00Songbird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Good news. Archie seems to be enjoying singing time at school. A lovely surprise when he starts singing a song from school, if a little incompletely, at the dinner table in a soft sweet voice. Something about a bit of algae making friends with a bear, lyrics only Ruby decodes. "Do you realise he's singing about a bear that eats his new friend?" she warned me. And yes, if I'm hearing right the Bear does "grow Bulgy" and the "Bulge is Algae" but does it matter? He's singing. He's participating is the point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Not so long ago I took my mum to an assembly where Archie had one of the main non speaking parts as a pirate. Before the main attraction the music teacher struck up a tune on the piano all of which the children seemed to know and sing along to. Except Archie. Who was staring up at the ceiling. "What's wrong?", I whispered to my mother, alarmed. "Why isn't my little boy joining in the singing?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I don't know" whispered my mother, equally confused "It appears he has slipped into a coma". </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Three songs later and the ceiling was still holding his attention.
Later that afternoon, after congratulating Archie on his portrayal of a pirate, I ask "Why weren't you singing along with all the other little boys and girls?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"It was bor-wing." he said of which I duly report to my mother.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"...and that's why he wasn't joining in the singing" I tell her.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">
"Maybe he's Bold and Beautiful" mum suggests, confusing the school's 'Gifted and Talented' programme with a mid afternoon soap opera. "Have you spoken with his teacher?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hmmm. It wouldn't hurt to get him tested" I say.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">And who knows? Little bits of talent seem to be popping up everywhere. Just this morning he surprised us with his beat box stylings from the back of the car. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">
"Aka spitting into his hands." Ruby snorts from the passenger's seat, trying not to laugh "Gross"</div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-5777416698635082152010-11-04T11:14:00.002+11:002020-12-04T20:58:21.163+11:00ParentingWe've had a few parenting wins in the last few weeks.
- Driving Ruby and friend home accross town from band rehearsals with clutch about to give. Limping home in the dark having to restart the car every time gears need changing. Of course the kids loved the drama. "We thought we were going to die!!!" Ruby's's friend gleefully told her mother, having to be picked up from our place where the trip was finally aborted.
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Sending Ruby off on the state band tour at 7.30 in the morning <em>sans</em> trumpet. Daughter's friend's dad (who is chauffering because our car has dodgy clutch) rings up at destination in panic "Missing a trumpet". </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">- Discover later on that father of Ruby's friend has also stopped en route at bakery for danish pastry when Ruby announces no one has fed her that morning.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
But this is the best: forgetting to pick up Archie's friend from a party. When Col returned from the party with just Archie, I'm like, "Oh my god, where is Nikki? Go back and get Nikki!". Col dashed to the party to get Nikki while I tried not to answer my phone as Nikki's mum, rang.
In the end, the timing was tight as Mike walked down our driveway to get Nikki, just before Col arrived back home with Nikki in th ecar, Archie already home. Lucky Mike thought it was funny. Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-5515557125797536392010-10-24T20:58:00.004+11:002010-10-25T13:08:48.539+11:00Gender Studies 101.<div style="text-align: justify;">Archie was telling me the other day how funny one of the boys in his class was being, a child with a rep for being the naughtiest boy in the kindergarten class. I said "Did everyone think he was being funny?" </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Archie said "Just the boys". </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I said "Why don't the girls think he's being funny?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Archie said "Because they know he's being naughty"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Don't the boys know he's being naughty?" I asked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Yes" said Archie "But they can't help it"</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was hard to know what to say next. You'd probably pay a psychologist with a Phd in gender studies a fortune to reach an insight like that...</div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-77293034467342468402010-09-18T10:06:00.002+10:002020-12-04T17:51:54.541+11:00Book Week.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPykPJggpFnLzsZGjxqA2E9337r6-88p9Ysspf9sjaUiC4UY4ESF33hJNJeZU8OV9JCCtJFmEFFS6I0JDRakDWXjsnDNapezD8VWnr4lfmmfIwDpHVNLOoJ4WyMoI1JG3DSmFj00D0Jeg/s320/batman+potter.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPykPJggpFnLzsZGjxqA2E9337r6-88p9Ysspf9sjaUiC4UY4ESF33hJNJeZU8OV9JCCtJFmEFFS6I0JDRakDWXjsnDNapezD8VWnr4lfmmfIwDpHVNLOoJ4WyMoI1JG3DSmFj00D0Jeg/s600/batman+potter.jpg"/></a></div>
A week ago now but Book Week at the school ended on Friday with a dress up assembly. The kids assembled their own costumes - Batman and Harry Potter. See those blue girls sports pants doubling for Batman's uhmm...<em>shorts</em>... over his grey tights? That was my idea. Frankly though I was surprised Archie went for the suggestion. Glad he did though, they complete the ensemble.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQY_ln3zKtLuFdgwaqc2fWpqtmn8KK6HuLlyuCZVliVTEJNn7v-oY0YJl4RwzskLPyOXIaHIjcqr9f177BlqaT-cMgEdE782Xih6-R-mCvEzLLceIJUvtuDsapdALP8sUze9vSC5oK0U4/s320/A+batman.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQY_ln3zKtLuFdgwaqc2fWpqtmn8KK6HuLlyuCZVliVTEJNn7v-oY0YJl4RwzskLPyOXIaHIjcqr9f177BlqaT-cMgEdE782Xih6-R-mCvEzLLceIJUvtuDsapdALP8sUze9vSC5oK0U4/s600/A+batman.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-5399552160560026792010-06-30T11:13:00.005+10:002020-12-04T17:44:39.230+11:00Catty Confrontation.Lost temper with Cat. It is just as people say. They care only for themselves. Thought would make feel at home with grand gesture. Got out collection of Italian Vogues and called cat over. She couldn't have cared less! Turned up nose and pushed past me. Could not bite tongue any longer. Said, "That's it. I am making all this effort to get on and you are making none!" She just looked at me coolly and left the room.Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-48053591900131022252010-06-28T11:38:00.010+10:002020-12-05T16:50:49.623+11:00Hmmmmm.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRzNiWCpxZYGio_fr95BmuEtjmfqV6VA98Cz1Dn7gfLQTMFC8ZhiG2S8h0-UtSJUwkYTrvXj8X05SH7jwzXQ4XaZd6WdmOMGzrP2YXW13py5uPeGlnt-67urJLxV8BSo3CY7Ptc_lpis/s320/Archie+war+drawing+1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRzNiWCpxZYGio_fr95BmuEtjmfqV6VA98Cz1Dn7gfLQTMFC8ZhiG2S8h0-UtSJUwkYTrvXj8X05SH7jwzXQ4XaZd6WdmOMGzrP2YXW13py5uPeGlnt-67urJLxV8BSo3CY7Ptc_lpis/s600/Archie+war+drawing+1.jpg"/></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi839Zrp1G0UnLE9aHaEl8BlEyjJaL2Yt8OqMJfjqAfLk6Y3XnHDWZLU8aERjzpS9MntBr-hsW7CMZSy5jS9Gddq-u3ooCxSIlonmrXq2L1XvCTqMvUXwNbKEZTai6_gF30f4SiLutE2xQ/s320/archie+war+pic+2036.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi839Zrp1G0UnLE9aHaEl8BlEyjJaL2Yt8OqMJfjqAfLk6Y3XnHDWZLU8aERjzpS9MntBr-hsW7CMZSy5jS9Gddq-u3ooCxSIlonmrXq2L1XvCTqMvUXwNbKEZTai6_gF30f4SiLutE2xQ/s600/archie+war+pic+2036.jpg"/></a></div>
Archie's drawings have gone overnight from drawing colourful pets and hapless dinosaurs to sketches of trench warfare. Where's that coming from? Surely if he was needing to express angst in artwork we'd see drawings of playground arguments or a plate of mummy's muffins. Not unarmed civilians being shot by tanks as they climb out of trenches. The air raid looks pretty scary too. When asked he said they were in a different classroom for Indonesian Studies and found an "army picture" under the desk he was at. That day he came home, went straight to his room and whipped up the above two page art extravaganza within fifteen minutes. Army Picture sure made impression.Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-40641188837594067842010-06-24T12:36:00.007+10:002020-12-04T17:34:39.231+11:00Cat Bonding.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pfit_7ncrWCRAu4-r4cGS7BD6NkBoaXvgt6w9BebR7-ZjrMgSGEN0GX4y3kPfAssEMSVZyhnSEs_wt8WC0QVqVhS5Nnviuai1zVh3jFxvpygMfEU0OORT9kH0D7nvEhbEEBp0pAbfvM/s1600/240px-Snowball.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="333" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2pfit_7ncrWCRAu4-r4cGS7BD6NkBoaXvgt6w9BebR7-ZjrMgSGEN0GX4y3kPfAssEMSVZyhnSEs_wt8WC0QVqVhS5Nnviuai1zVh3jFxvpygMfEU0OORT9kH0D7nvEhbEEBp0pAbfvM/s400/240px-Snowball.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Cat and Self continue to pass one another in house with polite wariness. Feel, as am host, efforts to bond with Cat are incumbent on Self. To this end will rent Twilight movies for Cat and Self to watch when others are out tomorrow. Will make morning of it.<br />
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Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-40334103293838443172010-06-20T20:23:00.004+10:002010-09-10T15:33:40.111+10:00Cat Arrives Today.<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Cat set to arrive in afternoon. Clear space in laundry for cat bed and buy cat food. Purchase Kit Kat chocolate treat for self. Write short list of rules for Cat to abide by. Include no going in bedrooms and no scratching furniture (please). Laminate and put by cat bed. Start to worry Cat will feel unwelcome. Dash to local video rental for Garfield 2. Have it playing on television for when Cat arrives. That Bill Murray. Probably best work yet.</div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-51846148889010117412010-06-14T14:11:00.009+10:002020-12-04T17:32:04.031+11:00Clunk, Roll.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvoC-I8nJ_xBUEXAtgMSKSYg7eIzdSyufaMM9z7aAIzJPT-HJ5omrHHKY4N-1zNmy85Uv38-F3JLmL7IsyA6qgYS3mQsj-DYv2tdzUJQQqYmP-LJ-yV2eolSUNFxKMa68EJEGmL63Npg/s1600/MUMMY+STEPS+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvoC-I8nJ_xBUEXAtgMSKSYg7eIzdSyufaMM9z7aAIzJPT-HJ5omrHHKY4N-1zNmy85Uv38-F3JLmL7IsyA6qgYS3mQsj-DYv2tdzUJQQqYmP-LJ-yV2eolSUNFxKMa68EJEGmL63Npg/s400/MUMMY+STEPS+2.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I try not to go on here about the onslaught of colds and flu autumn brings my way. Not because I'm adverse to whinging - on the contrary, I find it lends me a certain charm - but because it's hard to find a nice photo to go with a post topic like that. (This may soon change. I am currently working on a series of embroideries of the influenza H1N1 virus, aka swine flu). But in the interests of record keeping, which was one of the original intentions of this blog, I just wanted to get it down here that I have only just recovered from a very nasty knee infection from when my partner pushed me down a flight of stairs a few weeks ago. OK, didn't actually <em>push</em> me, I shouldn't say that. More turned the outdoor light off just as I stepped out for the laundry. <em><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Deliberately</span></strong></em>. OK, not deliberately. Just turned off a light that seemed to be on for no reason. Though the timing did seem suspicious. And why would I put the decking light on for no reason? Think electricity police meets possible opportunistic prank. Think two weeks barely out of bed except to go to the surgery and get the dressing changed. Think painful and inconvenient. Anyway the point is: it was nobodies fault. But if it was someones fault they shouldn't feel bad. Don't feel bad. </div>
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So what's it like to fall down a flight of stairs? Like anybody I had often found myself wondering the same thing. What would be going through your head for example as you fell??? I was amazed to read once that Princess Diana had thrown herself down a flight in front of Charles as a kind of cry for help. Which sounds very sad and desperate. In my case I had no idea I was falling until the first clunk-roll in a series of clunk-rolls so was surprised to find my thoughts quite calm. Less "There are three of us in this marriage, Charles", and more "Bummer, the final episode of <em>Desperate Romantics</em> is about to start in five minutes". Of course Diana probably threw herself down a long marble staircase where as mine was just nine or ten timber steps. OK, more like six. Alright five. But the final clunk-roll was my skull on concrete. Amazingly no real injuries, just sore bits and bruises and a friction burn on my knee I paid no heed to. Hence the infection. Which was very painful and inconvenient. And as I said - no one's fault. </div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Image: artists impression of mummy falling down stairs.</span></strong></div>
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<br /></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-9896690954745740502010-05-19T21:08:00.005+10:002020-12-05T16:42:55.020+11:00Sucked In By Billie Bones.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF_rrR9vG4vIQWIvASOi_ncFl0EVZA2c_Vbw2mNtfIl8GoNFd54bvHp_WU0sl73jhkO0hsc8ajXS2O-m9Kv8F8evOivjaqzREzPsM2meKtKvRta7QW_DvIe7-_wlxHqJ4BQivcjMqOQ0/s1600/Billie+Bones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF_rrR9vG4vIQWIvASOi_ncFl0EVZA2c_Vbw2mNtfIl8GoNFd54bvHp_WU0sl73jhkO0hsc8ajXS2O-m9Kv8F8evOivjaqzREzPsM2meKtKvRta7QW_DvIe7-_wlxHqJ4BQivcjMqOQ0/s320/Billie+Bones.jpg" width="244" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">
Have you seen Billie Bones on TV yet? He's a plastic skeleton delivered to your house bone by bone in weekly instalments alongside a magazine booklet full of interesting facts about the human body. Suitable for young kids. Aimed in fact at young kids. Probably mostly six year old boys like the one in our house. I was oblivious until Billie's elaborately packaged skull turned up to the house the other day with my mother. Archie had somehow spied it in the local newsagent and told his Grandmother all about the fantastic series you could collect and guess what? This introductory offer of skull and magazine - which comes with a life size poster of Billy and all twenty of Billie's teeth which you get to insert yourself - is yours for only $2.95. That's right, you heard correct. Only $2.95. Trouble is all instalments after that are $11.95. So if you end up collecting all of Billie's bones to build his life size (six year old) skeleton <em>plus</em> his vital organs you will have forked out $320. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had to sit Archie down and explain that that would not be happening. Luckily Archie understands the concept of things being "too <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">spensive</span>" and we settled on getting the next instalment so that Billie could have his eyeballs and brain and then leave it at that. Imagine our upset then when we get the next lot and it contains the two eyeballs but only the right hemisphere of Billie's brain. Turns out the left hemisphere is going to cost another $11.95. Maybe, I say, Billie can just have half a brain. He will be very creative without any reasoning skills. No, says Archie, you can't have half a brain. Well, I say, the human brain is very amazing and can sometimes compensate for parts that have been lost. In fact researchers estimate we only use up to 10 % of our brain anyway and that the cells we do use are very adaptable and plastic. And in Billie's case actual plastic. No. Archie's not buying it. He shakes Billie's skull and the lone hemisphere rattles away inside. I can't say I blame him. We need closure. Billy needs closure. We commit to installment 3. Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-58089162064646549792010-05-14T12:19:00.006+10:002020-12-04T17:27:50.490+11:00Young At Art.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI4joxaLupQJ7tIXKhTwzPYDpPbrJc6xh8c33ISeXNecLycGA6f3oXdhzZEsfW9OECL8O7BzSOyXEaNj3M7AlvNpAVtxtUSqTGL0sqg6s7k4quPxOFWiWrY15oIA1o9UhXzqgK5-vCXhc/s320/Archie+card+3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="237" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI4joxaLupQJ7tIXKhTwzPYDpPbrJc6xh8c33ISeXNecLycGA6f3oXdhzZEsfW9OECL8O7BzSOyXEaNj3M7AlvNpAVtxtUSqTGL0sqg6s7k4quPxOFWiWrY15oIA1o9UhXzqgK5-vCXhc/s600/Archie+card+3.jpg"/></a></div>
I've been seizing on Archie's new found enthusiasm for whipping up cards when the occasion warrants (birthdays, Mothers' Day...), delighted to see all the magic a six year old contains expressing itself on paper. These latest examples bring a great big smile (and sometimes even a laugh) to my face.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10BwnXJAqVkSmPPjtMJynfCEnaKK7FVXiQOnIfC7GutZ3P6PSMqudvs8YdpF7r7ixI9gVBFbTOaOpS-AuKh7Okp_hdfqxIflYvT-2zrcNFfXfiuOX3hgkx-NFGqG1S3MwBJ2Q5wYjcNc/s320/archie+card+2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10BwnXJAqVkSmPPjtMJynfCEnaKK7FVXiQOnIfC7GutZ3P6PSMqudvs8YdpF7r7ixI9gVBFbTOaOpS-AuKh7Okp_hdfqxIflYvT-2zrcNFfXfiuOX3hgkx-NFGqG1S3MwBJ2Q5wYjcNc/s600/archie+card+2.jpg"/></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_oXzZBlEsauulS6tuDJUlXzf8ARXshVmNOsQIqUWyqtFd1bApGsUq2qhqNneSBfFAiZn2q77Tz2Vd0M1ZRRg649hxjz97RZ0L3qiy4piE2frGYxUPWBHEBiJCSZWi0NVj5t6dJwce30/s320/archie+card1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_oXzZBlEsauulS6tuDJUlXzf8ARXshVmNOsQIqUWyqtFd1bApGsUq2qhqNneSBfFAiZn2q77Tz2Vd0M1ZRRg649hxjz97RZ0L3qiy4piE2frGYxUPWBHEBiJCSZWi0NVj5t6dJwce30/s600/archie+card1.jpg"/></a></div>Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294392066916150460.post-59499092723086230392010-05-01T17:26:00.006+10:002020-12-05T16:17:16.428+11:00The Magic Garage (aka The Wardrobe Project).<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszfTjZ61GLNrJErX-zyZ9CF7nhDzZHigpdMl2YB2WNCkLSiAzOMe5r2f5vWorls1IHL8LCw6LY2R87HBmigJlA5BhKJ9tu671SRSFV0Div2FQ3-HVRj5jjmbThQS1r4hQM2XkwPOBifI/s499/WARDROBE.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszfTjZ61GLNrJErX-zyZ9CF7nhDzZHigpdMl2YB2WNCkLSiAzOMe5r2f5vWorls1IHL8LCw6LY2R87HBmigJlA5BhKJ9tu671SRSFV0Div2FQ3-HVRj5jjmbThQS1r4hQM2XkwPOBifI/s600/WARDROBE.jpg"/></a></div>
So here is the vintage wardrobe Ruby and I 'rescued' from the Salvos for not small amount of cash ($130 to be exact).OMG, we said upon discovery, it is exactly what we are after. We'll just sand it back and paint it white and that will be it. After all that is all there is to furniture restoration right? First things first though, we'll have it delivered to my Dad's garage and work on it there. Dad knows a bit about these things. He'll 'guide' us. Plus, it has to be said,he does have a very special garage- for example it has been known to exhibit magical properties. Sometimes you can leave one of your trickier projects in there and when you return the next day it's done. I know, it's amazing. Elves, I expect. But I will tell you now - I am not relying on the elves. This wardrobe is to be a learning curve for me. Will post regular pictures of our hard work. And hard work it might be - it seems the previous owners gave ita decorative paint finish using some unknown medium. Super glue perhaps?Miahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08712893439709152213noreply@blogger.com3