The Ghost Mower of Tuahiwi

The beauty of living on an acre in the country is that you can mow your lawns whenever you want.  Today was a stunning 30 Degree day in Christchurch which then continued into a hot awesome summer night.  Sitting outside having some ciders after dinner,  I was enjoying the tranquil distant sounds of all my neighbours begin the chorus of cutting their grass.  I soaked it in until 9pm and then the temptation got too much and I jumped up announcing I too would join the chorus and get my lawns done on such a stunning night.  It all started brilliantly until about 15 minutes into the cut when I realised it was getting dark.  Quickly.  I had not taken into account my neighbours were all on their ride-ons and since mine had been sitting unconscious in the garden shed for the past couple of months, I had been going old school and using the normal electric one.  I sped up to a brisk speedy walk as the grass became harder to see where I was going or where I had been.  I think I mowed the same strip 3 times and missed a substantial area over by the sandpit and along the hedge.  I won't actually know until tomorrow just how bad it is.  It's a bit like deciding to cut your mates hair when your drunk.  Its not til the next day that you realise what a fucken stupid idea that was.  I started panicking as the night set in and I still had half a lawn to go.  I was imagining my neighbours now sitting outside with a cold beer shaking their heads. Rookie Mistake.  I was becoming the Ghost Mower of Tuahiwi.  I had night bugs smashing into my face and at one point I went to pick up a Dog Bone which turned out to be a big squishy dog shit.  Luckily I had my trusty gardening gloves on so I just chucked it to one side and kept on mowing.  I wasn't giving up until the lawn was finished, even though I had now no idea when that was since I couldn't see a bloody thing.  I can't even sit back now and enjoy the satisfaction of a freshly mown law.  I'll probably just have to do the whole thing again tomorrow.  Stink One. What a Dick!

Its time to break the cycle

I think most people in their lives join a gym at least twice.  We've all done it, started off with high hopes and huge motivation for the first 2 weeks then any excuse becomes a good one.  Its cold outside.  I just ate.  I've got a headache.  My shoes give me blisters.  I've got no-one to go with.  and before you know it a month has gone by and your 'new' gym shoes are gathering dust in your wardrobe underneath your jandles and 2 rolls of wrapping paper.   I remember when I joined up for the local gym the first time. 17 yrs ago. just after I had my first baby.  I went in to get my program from a trainer and was expecting to be out of there within about half n hour.  Two hours later I'm a sweating, dry-retching mess.  When I went to leave, the perky, pony-tailed, Lycra-clad lady at the reception desk stopped me and asked me for my shoes. My brand spanking expensive new trainers.  I took them off and passed them over thinking maybe she wanted to check them out to go get herself a pair or something.  She whips out a Blue vivid and proceeds to write in large font my gym membership number all over them and then pops them in a cubby hole behind the desk.  Apparently these were my new Gym shoes just. for. at. the. gym! I didn't remember them telling me this piece of vital information when I signed my life and shoes away for the next two bloody years.  I had to walk home in my socks.  I never went back.  I kept paying and they got to keep my shoes.  I got to keep the baby weight.
So when our Teenager came and told us she had joined the Gym, we looked at each other and had a wee giggle behind her back.  A giggle that only old smug people with wise Gym life experience can utter.  Pretty sure we rolled our eyes as well.  Its been 2 weeks and her Gym shoes are still sitting outside her bedroom door in the exact position I threw them.  I asked her recently when she was going to the Gym again she replied in her best whiny voice "I've got no-one to go with?!"  *sigh its a slippery slope. 

I can eat Chocolate again

For the past week or so I have noticed a tender spot in one of my top back teeth, not a full on toothache or anything but sore enough to be a real downer when eating chocolate or those sour worm lollies late at night when the kids are in bed. 
Rung the dentist to make an appointment, before I permanently have to give up the late night sugar rush.  My dreams would be pretty boring without a hit last thing at night.  Resorting to licking Pineapple Lumps just doesn't do it for me.
Amazingly I managed to get an appointment that same day at 2:10.  Miracle.  Figured it would've been a week away at least.

Got off the phone and did a happy dance past the husband in the kitchen.
Him: What are you so happy about?
Me: I'm going to the dentist today
Him: Are you mental? Who does a happy dance for that?
Me: Me cause hes going to give me a filling so I can eat Chocolate again.  I might even get to eat it tonight once the injection wears off!!
Him: Maybe you shouldn't eat chocolate so much if it means you have to have a filling?
Me: *Sigh But that's what fillings are for? So I can eat Chocolate and they protect my teeth.  eye roll

I totally get that people are completely freaked out by having to go the Dentist.  It stems from our childhoods and "The Murder House" right?! But these days its way way better.  They don't let you feel any pain, one flinch by me and my dentist stops straight away and pumps another needle full of numbing goodness into my gum.  Then its just all noise.  Psychologically if you can get past the noise your all good.  I regularly go and see the good people at 'North Avon Dental Surgery' in Christchurch and they rule.  Don't keep me sitting or worrying in the waiting room.  Tell me exactly what they are going to do before and during.  No pissing around.  30 minutes later I walk out and have a nice wee chat with the receptionist, all with no feeling or muscle control on the Right side of my face.
Why do I always end up with an appointment and a double dose of anaesthetic right before I have to pick up the kids from school?
The 8 yr decides that his circus freak of a mother should be shown off to all his mates as I try to rush him out the school gate "Hey Guys watch my mum try to smile" "Hey Amelia talk to my Mum, she looks weird" "Hey Ms Fido my mums mouth is freaky"
I know the other major reason people put off going to their dentist is the cost.  Yip its up there.  $262 for an X-Ray and filling that day.  Could've been worse, if I left it longer it would've been a root canal! Root Canal are two words I never want to experience or pay for.  Two years ago the best thing I ever did was start seeing Lisa the hygienist every 6 months. I think the $100 she charges for an industrial 20 minutes of buffing and scraping and shining is completely worth it.   I totally reckon i have saved myself hundreds if not thousands of dollars by having a regular heavy duty clean.  She motivates me to floss everyday knowing that I'm going to have to see, either her smiley happy face or her disappointed frowny face.  Part of me wishes they still gave out those cool little buzzy bee cotton wool things.  I totally deserve one.
This actual dentist appointment was the first time I have had anything actually wrong with my teeth in the past 2 years.  Before all this I hadn't been to a Dentist in 10 years. 
What I'm trying to say in this Nerdy public service announcement is go get a WOF on your teeth my friends, even if there's nothing wrong at the moment.  Better to do it now, than wait til its going to cost you shit loads. Nothing worse in this life than Tooth Ache and Back Pain.  Except for Child Birth...don't get me started on Child Birth!

Hows your Dental situation these days? Have you paid for your Dentists Holiday Home in Fiji with all the work you've had done or are you insanely overdue for a tune up?

F You Period Hormones

 So had a bit of a fight with the Husband over the weekend.  You know the usual.  Hes wrong and I'm right but he doesn't agree.  Dick.  This, plus a busy weekend working together resulted in us not really talking.  Come Monday morning the air is still pretty frosty but the Husband gets to jump in a truck and drive off for a whole week away.  Yip SEEYA!  
10 minutes after the cloud of dust settles from his departure, I get the girly guilt's and figure I better send the inevitable 'make up' text and put the world all ok again.  So I send a nice text along the lines of "Sorry lets be friends, blah blah"...*crickets... Nothing, no reply.  OK I figure he's still mad.  Leave it.  An hour later I send another one.  Still Nothing.  God he's really mad, weird?  Sweetas, I can play that game too.  I've tried, now I'll leave it up to him.  2 hours later I start to get all stalker on it and send another one.  With each passing hour, I'm getting more manic and desperate.  Thoughts of "He hates me" "Hes bringing Divorce papers home with him" start to play out in my mental brain. Monday comes and goes with no communication.  I have the worst day.  I can't believe he's this mad.  The fight wasn't even that big? WTF? 
Tuesday I wake up with a headache from my crappy worry sleep.  I send another text and then resign myself to a life alone with 14 cats.  
Tuesday night the land line rings and its the Husband all chirpy "Hiii" he says.  "Ummmm Hi" I say back suspiciously.  He has rung to let me know he lost his phone getting in the car on Monday morning and a neighbour found it and could I go pick it up from them....ummmm OMFG the neighbour has probably seen the top two lines of each fucken text I have sent over the last 2 days!!! 
 I am mortified that a) I turned into such a mental teenager and that b) my neighbour has witnessed my manic break down!!  The husband didn't even realise we were still fighting?! I have just basically spent 2 days having a fight with myself?! 
I can't even bring myself to open my curtains in case I make eye contact with her.  I'm sending the kids over and digging myself a big hole in the back garden.  F@#k You Period Hormones!

I know I'm getting old....

I know I'm getting old for many reasons but a major one is because I have started to use those sucky-in-ey items of underwear.  I'm not quite at the big undie up to my boobs stage but my new staple secret item I came across at Farmers recently was a sucky-in-ey singlet and Praise the lord its amazing!  Just smooths out any bumps, lumps and frumps which I would usually blame on just having had a baby but considering the last one is 8, the reality of that statement is wearing thin.
Its genius because its long and stays down, no rolling up, even when having to bend over 2000 times a day to pick up my families crap.  It also squeezes the girls up for some much needed extra cleavage.  This shit is a miracle.
except.....
when I need to get dressed straight after a shower.  How many times have you tried to pull on a sports bra, knickers or anything sucky-in-ey when your skin is still warm and moist eww sorry I tried to think of another word. You get two arms in and your head sports bra not knickers for this example and then start desperately trying to roll the material down so you look like your giving yourself a double mammogram.  One boob in and still the back of your sports bra is rolled up around your neck.  You try desperately to bend your elbow high enough behind your back to reach the mother fucking material but not dislocate your shoulder, all the while you are getting hotter and sweatier in the process.  Its at about this point I start yelling out desperately for the nearest family member "COME IN HERE AND HELP ME BUT FOR GOD SAKE DO IT WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!!!" its amazing how any other time I want 5 bloody minutes to myself in the bathroom to pee,  I've got kids coming out my ears talking to me through the door but when I really need them suddenly they're all sooooooo busy.
But when I finally get to the really unattractive, manic panic stage,  you know the stage like when your at a jewellery store and you try on a really expensive ring and it goes on sweet as but when you try to slide it off, your finger has suddenly turned into a sausage and it won't budge?! this is the stage when I start to consider walking out of the bathroom as is, to hell with the neighbours and causing retina damage to my family, to get the scissors from the kitchen and cutting this straight jacket off. Then just like that the back rolls down, god what a relief!  I end up having to lie down with my face on the cold floor just to get my breath back from the un-co zumba workout I just did.
That was the bra now the knickers....

YouTube is totes Cray Cray

We don't spend a huge amount of time watching TV at my house.  We don't have Sky or anything so the limited channels means there's lots of crap on, which makes it easier for me to just turn it off.
We do however spend a lot of time on gadgets or devices.  So laptops are always open, the ipad or our iPhones are usually in someones hands.
We do have Apple TV, which is a little black box that plugs into your TV, its a way of accessing the Internet using your TV as the main screen, you can order movies online, look at your photos or videos, music channels and I often find the kids watching YouTube on there.  Lets just begin by saying YouTube is totes cray cray.  You can start off watching someone like 'Ellen' on there and 3 hours later you are learning how to build your kid a bunk shaped like a giraffe???
I thought I would give you a couple of things I have found which make me laugh out loud and another couple which I found inspiring and moving.  To show you there's still good people out in the world.
They first 3 are a little strange.  Not in a bad way.  Just a little bit WT? like maybe someone needs to remove the magic mushys from their gardens.  My kids think they are hilarious.  That's all the warning your going to get about those.
But the last 2 are amazing!

My Girls

So I haven't really blogged since May and I was thinking about all the things that have happened since then.  Dam my future Altziemers (?) I can't think back that far.  But I do remember we got new Kune Kune Piglets in June.  This was after a long grieving period for our last wee ginger piglet, Ruby, who we lost at 4 months to a pretty shit house bacteria which gave her blood poisoning and died quite suddenly on our doorstep.
I was really missing the grunts and squeals of my little shadow and my Staffy was missing her mate too.  So I started trawling through Trade me to find our newest additions.  I decided to get 2 sisters this time so they would have company to cuddle up to in the cold winter nights.
These girls came from the West coast and were quite different straight away.  They lived inside for the first 2 months as the winter weather was pretty crap and it was a good excuse to have 2 very cute wee piglets sleeping inside in front of the fire, stealing the dogs beds.  I think my Staffy was a bit put out because they definitely stuck together and evicted her from any cosy spot she got to first.  These girls we have named 'Daisy Boo' (the black and white one) and 'Polly Wog' (the ginger one) but during the first few weeks I had moments of wanting to change their names to 'Kim' and 'Khloe' due to their very demanding and high maintenance behaviour.  It was like having puppies again.  I was up twice in the night letting them out to toilet train them, they would get into everything and were very loud when hungry or just wanted attention.  You would find me every morning round 5:30am in my dressing gown and gumboots with 2 tantruming, squealing piglets following me down to the back of the property to feed them their breakfast.  Then an hour later they would be back banging on the door and straight back asleep in front of the fire.  It was intense but very cool.
In the last couple of weeks the husband has made a fenced in area with an awesome cosy, straw bale castle inside their pig house, in which they now sleep every night.  Complete with single mattress.  They are able to wander and graze around our acre at their leisure and are still welcome inside during the day but at dinner time their gate is shut until its time for breakfast.  The husband has had to fence off his vege garden to keep them out and we are in the process of teaching them not to root up the soft ground.
They are growing really quickly, in two months they have easily doubled in size,  and always come running when they see us.  They can sit for treats and a scratch behind their ears makes them flop to the ground for a belly rub.  They are really good little lawn mowers and eat all our household scrapes and weeds.
I love seeing them asleep in the sunshine on my doorstep or in amongst the garden.
Kune Kunes are such characters, they have awesome personalities, soo smart and social but feisty and stubborn too. 
If your thinking about adding a piglet..or two...I say "Do it!"

Stuff you just need

I moved out of home when I was 18. Straight from 7th form in Paraparaumu to do the student thing in Christchurch. When you first leave home, your olds get you lots of stuff to start you out. A new duvet and Cover. Sheets. Toaster. Cutlery set. Towels. Grocery vouchers. A Cook book.  Common Sense.  Morals.  Birth Control.  Pretty much as many necessity items you can fit in a suitcase.  But there are 2 things that my mother has continued to buy for me 20 yrs later. These 2 things I have never had to go out and buy for myself EVER. The first thing is an Iron. She bought it and I never use it. It always ends up put away in a box, inside another box at the back of a cupboard in the laundry behind torches, plastic bags and a weird electric duster. If when she comes to visit she can find it, it gets used.  By her.  Otherwise it just stays in the back of the cupboard. Sitting patiently waiting for Lyn to come back. I figure at least it will be in mint condition when Te Papa call wanting to add it to their olden days collection.

The other domestic item which my Mum buys every time she comes to Christchurch to visit us is Pegs. I always need them but never actually go out and buy them. There's nothing more frustrating than not having enough bloody pegs to hang out the millions of socks and undies my family seem to wear every day.  This last visit my Mum and Dad made down to look after my little farm for a week, while I was drinking booze and sunning myself in Raro, was a chance to outdo herself.  Not only do I now have a new collection of coloured plastic pegs ready with strength and determination to combat the wind and stop my bloomers from flying into the neighbours yard, but I also now have 3 extra 'Glad containers' full of yellow polyethelene goodness as back up for when the environment inevitably starts swallowing and destroying the current active members. Those containers make me smile everyday.

I love you Mum. Thanks for still looking after me.

Breakfast Spreadsheets

Is there anything more fun than being taken out for breakfast at a nice coffee shop, ordering a warm cheese scone, hot chocolate, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, free wifi and no children, to then have a laptop opened in front of you displaying a spreadsheet made by the husband outlaying in bold your last 6 weeks of daily spending. Fuck.

He started the conversation by saying "WE need to look at our spending" by 'We' he obviously meant 'Me' but was trying to begin this horrific discussion on a good note. Not wanting to lay the blame directly on me straight away probably for fear of getting my butter knife jammed in his eye. It was at about this point I started trying to work out which injury I could fake so I could commando roll out of there. He was good. He already had all exits blocked. 

I frantically racked my brain, whilst keeping a relaxed not concerned in the slightest expression on my face, all while mentally scrolling through all my clothing, shoes, books and Mcdonalds purchases in the last 6 weeks. Fuck. Where's a bloody 6.9 earthquake when you need one. 

Luckily on closer inspection of his fancy spreadsheet there were a lot of large gardening and home maintenance tool purchases on there which made my impulse shopping look not so bad. Phew.

Apparently he tells me this is going to be regular occurrence. I think he needs to be encouraged to spend more time with his fancy new tools and less time with his laptop which i have a premonition is unfortunately going to go missing.

Happy Fathers Day to all the Bogans out there

What an absolute cracker of a Sunday for Fathers Day today.  It was a treat for us cause we don't usually have the husband home for this celebration, he is usually away working keeping us in the lifestyle we are accustomed.  Someone has too.  So we started the day with homemade cards in bed, which the kids worked all last night on.  There was a lot of cutting out of magazines, colouring and sticking. Our kitchen table looked like a primary school art class had thrown up on it.  One card included a rap by the 8 yr old and the middle child seems to think her Dad looks like someone from a bad 70's disco movie. 




















He also got some new Kiwi Sounds to beef up our collection and a book about straw bale houses.  After the mandatory fry up for Brekky,  I packed the car and loaded everyone into it for a trip to the Oxford Speedway for a Charity Family Day out raising money for Prostate Cancer.  We met up with one of my besties and her wee family, which consists of a husband and two 2 yr old twin girls for a picnic in the sun.
I forgot that Speedway usually has a compulsory uniform of Black Jeans, Black T-shirt, Mullet and can of Bourbon in hand.  This family day was no exception.  I learnt a lot about parenting and how it seems to be very effective to just pretend like no one else is around and scream at your children about "how they better not f#@%*en show you up today!!"  A family just beside us decided to have a coke and paint fight with the 'loser' ending up looking like something from a scary version of Brave hart.  That was about the time we decided to move our blanket a bit further away.
I kept having to check where my son was in case a bogan decided to recruit him or steal him as bait for a bogan kid fight.
Then just as the sun was going down and the speedway was closing, we got distracted and let our guard down, which gave one of the twins just enough time to pick up and almost eat a piece of discarded bogan bread off the ground.  Sweet Jesus her mother had lightning reflexes.  She swooped into survival mode and dived across the picnic blanket flicking that bread out like a ninja.  Before she could be infected with bogan-niss.  We won't really know just how much she was contaminated until later I'd imagine, but if she starts demanding Metallica and coke in the next few days, we will at least be able to pin point exactly whats to blame.  Her parents have been given strict instructions to put her on a complete diet of hummus and Bob Marley to counteract the symptoms.  We live in hope.

To Write or To Read

Its been awhile since I've been back on here....I have really struggled to multi-task.  I either write manically or I read enthusiastically.  I can't seem to do both at the same time.  The last couple of months I have chosen the later and been reading like a mofo. 
I started 'Our Book Club' on FaceCrack and it has lots of awesome members who give great recommendations.  I have been working my way through all these awesome titles.  I stand in Whitcoulls scrolling through my facebook to find my next read.  My Book shelf and Kindle has never looked so full and inviting.  However in the back of my mind has been my little Blog which gives me so much happy.  I love to hide behind it and write stuff down and know its being read out in the universe somewhere. 
Blogging rules cause there are so many good ones out there.  I have 4 that I follow religiously.  They are over in Aussie and I totally dig them.  'Dad down Under' 'Woogsworld' 'Edenland' 'Life Love and Hiccups' There are plenty of awesome Kiwi ones too.  I like Blogs that make me smile or better yet, piss my self laughing.  They are the nice part of opening my email.  Its like getting a hand written letter in the mail box amongst all those suxy fliers and bills.
Which brings me to the reason I actually suddenly got my spark back.  I was standing in my kitchen in my gumboots, having just done the poo patrol of our property.  This is quite a big job when you have 6 Chooks, 2 Pigs, 2 Dogs and a Cat cruising around your acre like they own the place.  That's a whole heap of shit.  Trust me.
I came in to do something motherly for a child in the kitchen and decided to check my emails first.  Priorities people.  I haven't had a comment on my blog for ages, which is totally fair enough as it has been channelling Sleeping Beauty.  So I was surprised to notice I had one.  Bloggers freaken love comments cause it means people are actually reading your ramblings.  At this point I would like to refer you to a previous post I did about 'No1 Fan Girl' it basically admitted to what a complete spaz I am when I'm near anyone remotely famous.  That said, these other blogs that I read, I have put those bloggers in my famous category in my brain, cause they are so clever and never seem to get writers block or anything.  So my comment this morning was from 'Dad down Under'.... ummm as soon as I saw his name,  my spaz returned with avengence! "How did he even come across my little bit of the blogasphere?" but thank you universe that he did cause now I'm all like "Kids GET OUT...Mummy's blogging again!!!!"

It was a long day today

I had a pretty long day today.  Won't go into the boring details.  Just trust me it was long.
Not bad or anything.  Just long.
I think it had a lot to do with the hours and hours I spent on my hands and knees weeding the arse out of my garden yesterday.  I'm not a weeder normally.  Ask anyone.  In fact I've probably only done it twice in my whole life.  By the time it was all over my back, knees and fingers felt like they needed to be admitted to the local rest home for an extended stay of complete bed rest and liquid food to recover.
That was yesterday.   I was dreading today.  Today I'm feeling it in my thighs and lower back.
Nothing too serious but it would be a shame not to exaggerate the groans as I stand and sit for my families benefit.  They need to know how bloody hard I worked yesterday.  Thank you very much.
So tonight after my long day I figured I deserved a long, hot soak in the tub.
Picture this.  Pissing down rain on the roof.  Thunder and lightning even.  Candles lit on every surface of the bathroom.  Running a big deep bath.  Added some Epsom salts for my aching muscles (yes I'm 70! and what?) Had some nice kiwi music playing softly for ambiance.  My book is at the ready.
I can feel myself relaxing already.  I go to climb in and WTF? the bloody hot water has run out half way thru the filling so now I'm stuck with a very pathetic Luke warm bath.  Which to a bath connisure (?) like myself is just basically Shit house.  The worst kind of Shit house.  "Well too bad" I said out loud to the universe with maybe a few other words containing letters like KCUF and possibly some that may or may not have sounded a bit like Brother Ducker added to the statement.  "I will not be a victim, I am having a bloody bath" so I sat in my crappy bath and pretended like everything was freaken awesome until I couldn't handle it any longer and hypothermia seemed like a very real possibility.
Thank god for electric blankets and my wonderful mum sending me supplies to replenish my hidden Chocolate Supply.  I needed it right now.  Nothing fixes a long day and aching muscles like a whole bag of Whittakers White Chocolate and Raspberry mini slabs.

Just did some casual weeding.  No biggie!

Cinderella the Shitbag Teenager

So it would be fair to say we have had our share of drama to contend with where our Teenager is concerned over the past few months.  Don't get me wrong there have been a few good days in amongst all that as well.  But I just can't seem to recall them.  Perhaps I was dreaming. 
Evil out ways the Good.
I remember something the amazing 'Nigel Latta' once said "Teenagers just aren't right in the head". 
I agree.  One minute shes all sweet and light and the next she is a head spinning version of the exorcist.
Feet stomp like a 5 year old when asked to do anything.  Loud dramatic huffing and puffing can be heard down the street I'm sure.  It is a normal occurrence to have her mid-dishes declare at the top of her lungs "Aaarrgggh I'm just soooo frustrated...I need 5 minutes alone" stomp stomp door slam and Teenager disappears (and when after a quick game of 'paper scissors rock' one parent draws the short straw and has to venture into her pit of death bedroom to explain to her that she better bloody come and finish the job she has left half completed) it's quite normal to find her face down on her bed like her world is so bloody hard and we are ruining her life by making her put her hands in hot soapy water to clean dishes that "She didn't even use?!"
Inhale Exhale.  I often have visions of tying her to the wheelie bin just in time for Friday morning collection.  I have found some wisdom over the years.  Teenagers are a lot like babies.  If they are sleeping.  Don't you dare wake them up.  I let her sleep as long as she can on a Sunday.  Just for the peace we all get.
But today was a good day, so thought I should probably document it just in case its years before we have another like it. 

I couldn't get her off this once she got the hang of it

Scrubbing out the green slime from the Chooks water Clam

Sweeping even

Folded Washing

Vacuuming

This was the end of the day...Starting to lose her sparkle

Even cooked a delicious dinner

 Do you think she wants something?? Like maybe her Stereo power cord back or the new Wifi Password perhaps.  I think Aliens stole my teenager and replaced her with a new one.  One that's not broken.  I like those Aliens.

The Great Undie Massacre

A couple of weeks ago I'd had enough.  That was it.  No more.  Something snapped, not my waist elastic but my patience and I decided that the Undies I had been wearing for the past 20 years needed to be exorcised.  These were my Undies from 5th Form.  Yup 5th Form.  I was 15 when I bought them?!  Some might be saying "Wow she stills fits her undies from when she was 15?!" and tempted as I am to let you go on believing that,  alas it's not quite as glamorous as it sounds...I don't care how much quality Bendon put into their underwear back then, they were never supposed to survive 2 Children and 20 yrs.  All that wear and pregnancies had stretched those bad boys into a holey, sad, depressed but dependable heap. 
They had become the Street kids of my Undie drawer, the homeless living under a bridge, the orphans, the ones no one wants to be friends with.
 It's not like I haven't bought other more comfortable, exciting pairs for my arse during these 20 years but somehow those old ones would retreat to the bottom of the drawer whenever the new fancy ones were put in and then slowly creep there way back up to the top when I ran out of clean washing. I'm surprised they haven't sacrificed themselves sooner by leaping from the open drawer, landing on the floor then scurrying under my wardrobe like one of all my bloody pair of socks have done!
It's not like they didn't know they were the last one picked for the team, the ugly ones, the Great-Aunt with a beard. It must've been obvious due to my dramatic sighing and the husbands screams of terror whenever they were pulled from the depths to feel the sunlight for a brief moment.
So I finally did it, I went out and spent $117 at the Farmers sale and purchased 7 brand spanking new pairs and before they were taken out of the bag, I had an Undie drawer Massacre.  I pretty much burnt those monstrosities on the stake, i sacrificed those demons, I threw them out with the dishwater, I put them out of their/my misery and God it felt Goood! I felt free.  I felt alive.  Now my drawer is a happy, colourful, comfortable place to venture each morning. I don't have to hide them amongst the towels on the clothes line so the neighbours won't see anymore.  I highly recommend a routine purge of all that old stuff.  It's amazing how a nice new pair of scants can lift your mood!

No 1 Fan Girl

I have this mental disorder when ever I meet someone who has been on TV.  I'm not even talking big celebrities or anything, if they have been on anything even an ad,  my brain just can't cope.  I blame society and the Woman's weekly for unrealistic fame stigmas and I'm a total sucker for it.
The reason I'm thinking about how stupid I act when standing in front of someone famous is because this weekend I get to be bridesmaid at my besties wedding Wedding No 7 and she and her soon to be husband cavort quite regularly with people who have been on the box.  Which also means I will be standing up and doing a speech in front of those friends.  I'm getting hives thinking about it.  They tell me they are just normal people and my brain totally gets that but when I actually get to have a small moment with anyone slightly famous I turn into a 14 yr old girl standing in front of One Direction.  I get all nervous and say the dumbest shit in a stupid voice and as much as I say to myself "Play it cool Shelley" that's the exact opposite of what I end up doing. 
The conversation pretty much always goes like this:
Them: Hi, How are you?
Me: Gulp Oh my god you've been on TV????
Them: ahhh yeah
Me: No you have actually been on TV????
Them: Yip nervous laugh
Me: That's so cool, I've totally seen you!!! manic laugh
Them: Rigggght Thanks awkward silence
Me: still manic laughing, staring and bright red cause now I've got nothing else to say.
I think half the problem stems from my unrealistic expectations for myself.  Whenever I have got to meet someone awesome in the music industry, just before the meeting I think to myself...this time I'm going to be so funny and awesome that they will want to invite me backstage and hang out and be best friends forever?! Ummm yip its fair to say that due to my disturbing behavior that will never happen in my lifetime.
 I'm a 36 yr old woman who can quite happily meet and greet strangers on a daily basis, I can answer phones no problem, doesn't faze me to walk into a party and make conversation with new people so why oh why do I get my spaz on when talking to a famous person?!
Imagine if I ever got to meet someone super famous like Madonna OK chances are slim but pretty sure her security would be all over me pretty bloody quickly.

Tell me the most famous person you have ever met and were you cool or a spaz like me?

Happy Jesus Day

Soooo Easter is almost upon us, although every year I'm never really sure just when it is, due to the fact that the super markets have huge displays of Chocolate Eggs of every mouth watering shape or form from about boxing day.  Its strange, I'm such a Chocoholic and will buy copious amounts of chocolate blocks or bars, storing them in different hidey spots so I don't have to share with any of my off spring, but I won't buy delicious looking Easter Eggs until the week before and certainly won't eat any until the actual day.  I think that stems from Childhood rules which are obviously strictly ingrained for some bizarre reason.
The one Eastery thing we do however gorge ourselves on from as early as poss is Hot Cross Buns.  Not being huge fans of fruit in bread we tend to spend our money on the plain or Chocolate Chip varieties.  Heated with lots of artery clogging butter melted on top.  They just stay fresher longer. Although I'm only guessing about that fact, as they are inhaled pretty quick in my household.
Which brings me to a very fun opportunity for my divine readers to get in on the Hot cross bun action.
 The Wonderful people at Bakers Delight have given me some $10 vouchers to give away so that 3 of you can add some yummy treats to your Easter Weekend.
Drop me a comment about your plans for Easter this year or what your favourite baked item at Bakers Delight is and I will randomly choose 3 Names from a official looking hat, drawn by the 7yr old and will get those vouchers sent out in time for Jesus Day...What fun what fun!

Fly or Buy

It's the besties Hens night in Auckland on Saturday night and as soon as I knew about it I was straight online to book flights to get me amongst it. Unfortunately even weeks ago airfares were on the stupid side of not right. I refuse to pay $299 to get to Auckland when I could get to bloody Australia for less than that. So figured I would pull a 'Wilson' special and bowl on in to the airport early and grab a standby fare. The husband does it all the time with no drama and its only $69. Why oh why universe am I still sitting here 5 hrs later. Such Murphy's Law the one time I decide to throw caution to the wind, live for the now, spur of the moment and all that...every other person on the planet is traveling to Auckland from Christchurch as well *sigh. Don't they know I've got some serious Girly shit to attend too, which may or may not include shoe shopping, booze and plenty of quality blah blah! What to do when faced with 5 hours of waiting at an airport. Well I had a double cheeseburger combo for breakfast so I can't go back to Burger King without a disguise or at least until the staff change shifts. The husband has forbidden me to go into that gorgeous shop downstairs called toi toi but maybe that's a good thing cause the lady behind the counter was starting to look at me suspiciously due to how long I spent salivating over the jewellery and bags just before. It's a funny thing, at home I could easily spend 5 hours reading if my pesky family didn't keep interrupting me for food and other ridiculous attention seeking ploys, but now that I actually could sit and get stuck into a few chapters I'm just not that into it. The husband has also made matters worse by telling me that I should get a bus from the airport to the besties workplace as it would be cheaper than the shuttle/limo I had envisioned. God I can see that ending in tears. I sux at directions and buses, i don't cope with strangers and personal space and I never know which bus to get on and which stop to get off...Fark ill probably end up in Whangarei. But back to life at the airport.. I have secured a spot beside a wall with a plug so i can keep my phone on full battery which has enabled me to facecrack to my hearts content and to catch up on the last couple of weeks of 'Ellen' on YouTube.
Perhaps if I go buy a hat from the tourist shop, I can go get another burger?!

Help! The bugs seem to be winning

Our house is being held hostage by a disgusting Spew Bug.  I went down first on Sunday morning followed by the 7yr old 12 hours later. You forget in between bouts of death sickness like this just how suxy and violent vomiting can be.  It was hot sweats, tears rolling, nothing left to puke puking.  and spending a whole day lying down with nothing going in and everything coming out, your pretty much left with just a shell of a person.    I'm so pleased that I was heading towards the end of my dose when the 7yr started his and I knew he was going to be next cause he was all teary and extra cuddly at bedtime.  I had kept myself quarantined with the door shut all day and when he did venture in to say Goodnight I even cuddled him with the duvet over my face to try and prevent the bugs from spreading but Noooo.  10:30pm a little body came in already heaving.  Its amazing how your mothering skills take over even when your feeling like you've been run over by a bus. There is this energy store that kicks in and I was straight out of bed not unlike someone off a special K commercial bowl in hand ushering him to the bathroom.  I'm holding the bowl with one hand and wetting a cold face cloth with the other.  Once that was sorted I had to get him a drink, put a towel on his bed for him to sleep on.  Didn't want to risk poo stained sheets at 1am and tucking him back in.  Which unfortunately was exactly what I did end up with at 1am.  Once I had time to collapse back into bed my brain caught up with my body and started screaming "What the Fuck just happened...Thanks for the warning lady...I thought we were out of action!?".  It was like I had run round the block 7 times.  I was heavy breathing, smelt like a foot and had some pretty impressive hot sweats its fair to say I wasn't at my most attractive When your still recovering from the bug its bloody nice to have a set of husband hands to help and help he did but while he was dry retching in our bathroom after wrapping the boy in a towel and carrying him to the toilet I'm actually surprised he didn't opt for a tarp out of the garage someone had to change all the sheets and clean the 7yr olds legs, make a new bed up and clean the spew bowl for the 4th time.  God I'm a solider! Right?! So no first day back at school for the son, bumma cause pretty much that's the one and only day all kids want to go to school.  Spew Bugs officially Sux!

2013 the Year of the Deck Chair

How many Outdoor Chairs of the deck variety should a family own?  We have the standard table and Chairs outside plus a couple of others but not nearly enough for a medium to large gathering.  I have often decided to head to Bunnings or The Warehouse with the intent of purchasing more but I get there and they cost so much when buying a multiple amount that I end up walking away with Batteries, more coat hangers and a couple of light bulbs but no chairs.  Then we have a party and I have to resort to asking guests to bring their own seats cause I know we will have insufficient seating options to go round.  So this year I'm biting the bullet and making a New Years resolution to start buying fold up deck chairs, which will be stored in the garage when not in use just like my olds used to do when I was growing up Maybe I should plan for 2 per month.  That's 24 Chairs for next Christmas.  That seems excessive.   I'm not sure the husband will be pleased with 24 deck chairs in his garage.  How many do you own? God what a first world problem?!

Our Red Gloves

 I have these Divine soft Cherry Red Leather Gloves and I love them.  I will always love them.  You gave them to me. Without hesitation.  Just because I said I loved them while you were wearing them, that day at my house.  That time you stayed with us.  We drank bubbles together.  We laughed and talked late into the night.  I knew I'd see you again.  I'd always see you again.  At the next show.  I'd turn the corner from our stand and you would be there.  Dressed up all gorgeous.  Huge smile on your face when you spotted me.  Straight over for a catch up hug.  A see you after the show for a drink promise.  I'd always see you again.  But now I can't.  You decided that.  I didn't get a say.  I'm sorry you had to fight so hard to stay with us.  I'm sorry you couldn't fight anymore.  I'm sorry that all our love and light couldn't keep you here with us.  I hate that under that amazing smile was a darkness you couldn't chase away.  We couldn't chase it away for you.  I wish I could remember the last thing I said to you.  Was it important enough to be the last thing.  Ever.  Was it just goodbye.  That's not enough.  Did you know how much I loved being around you, your strength, your spunk, your sass, your cheekiness.  Did you know?  Do you know?  So I will wear our gloves.  That you wore.  I will say my Goodbyes with many tears and many smiles and try to understand why your not here anymore.  Not at the next show.  I miss you already.  It hurts but you don't anymore and that's what matters now.  Be at peace and take all our love and light to get you there lady.
RIP Anna xxx

Ours

 I'm sitting here watching my dogs sleep.  They do that a lot.  They like to do that where I stop.  Near me makes them happy.  It makes me happy.  That's the thing with having animals, they are unconditional, they don't need much.  Mine like food and their people.  So what about when the years fly by and suddenly I see that my first proper ever grown up pets, my dog Starfish is 10 years old?! and the one who rules the place, my Cat Moon Goon is 19! Realistically that means that probably in the next 5 years I may not have them anymore.  My brain doesn't completely get that.  Our world works because each of my animals plays there part.  We can't be without any of them.  So then what?  To put yourself out there to Love so much is to put yourself out to hurt pretty deeply when the time comes too i guess.  Would I give them up to save what is inevitably coming? Not for a second.  At times I feel like all I do is yell at my dog to shut up or move from under my feet or I'm too busy to give Moon that attention she wants but then all i have to do is look at them looking at me, following me, waiting for me and I feel that connection.  They love me anyway. They get me and I get them.  I get what stresses Star to the point where shes loud and aggressive to other dogs so I don't put her in that situation.  She is what we created.  Shes ours.  We're lucky.
Moon was mine before.  Before our Christchurch life.  When it was just me and the girl baby and our cat.  She moved with us. Lots.  She slept with us. Always.  She has put up with and sorted out more animals that came along.  Shes the boss.  She has my heart.
 Its cliche and cheesy but true.  Animals make you a better person.  They make you give a shit about someone other than yourself.  They make you love something more than yourself.  Its nice to know my family are loved and protected by more than just us.  My family has 30 legs.  I'm happy.

Airbeds Sux

If ever you are offered an airbed to sleep on just reply with a "No thanks I'll just throw my blankets on the ground and save time" I have never slept in one that didn't go down by morning.  They are such a camping nightmare.  Whoever invented them are sitting back pissing themselves laughing at all of us.  Air beds are shit.  Its a fact.  Even when you first get onto one and it hasn't yet deflated which it will  If your not the same weight as your sleeping buddy its just a bloody seesaw every time someone rolls over or has to get up to take a leak in the middle of the night.  I get the convenience of being able to roll them up and carry them around but for fucks sake whats the point really when your just going to end up ridiculously uncomfortable, cold and sleeping on the ground anyway.  Save the room in your boot for another chilly bin or extra towels.
This rant is because I just experienced the hell that is a bed made from air for only one night recently. Luckily I had a few ciders pre-bedtime so the first few hours of sleep was deep enough to not notice the slow but steady decline of Oxygen from under our bodies but woke not long after freezing on the ground with the semi deflated plastic surrounding me like a inflatable coffin.
Nobody can start a productive happy day from the depths of a deflated bed.  Its just not physically possible. 
Feel free to correct me if in fact you have a miracle bed which stays up all night....point me in the right direction and I'll happily invest...but I'm not holding my breath.

This lady is a liar...nobody smiles like that if they are sleeping on an airbed

This is what you end up on by morning

Just call me Pig Hunter

Well our first week with the Devine Miss Ruby has been anything but boring.  I have learnt a few things about Pigs.  They are stubborn and Wiley little buggers.  If they want to go exploring, not much will put them off or stop them.  They are mental for food.  They grunt alot and are sooo freaken cute. You should see this girls eye lashes.
But when they go walkabout, you end up resorting to high pitched pig calling for hours on end, just waiting for that little face to come through the bushes.  Xmas day was spent stressfully trying to achieve exactly that.  Day two of having her as part of our family and the little Houdini decided 5 mins before we had to leave for Xmas lunch to go bush.  This resulted in us being an hour and a half late and me to be an uptight wreck all day.  Straight home for 2 more hours of calling and walking the neighbourhood.  What a way to meet your neighbours.  The weird lady wandering and yelling out "Ruuuubbbbbyyyyyyy, here Ruby girl" whilst rustling a bread bag like it was a freaken musical instrument.  Long story short she came home.  Although with a small cut on her back and very nervous.  Since then its all been Happy Days, I'm not sure if the walk has scared her enough to realise she is living Pig Utopia at our place or if the 20 large pieces of wood I have placed on every slight hole I can find is keeping her in but either way she is staying put.
I now have another body to follow me around with the dogs and the cat.  I have a shower and they all sit on the floor and wait for me to get out.  I've got a wee grunting buddy who sleeps down by or under my bed and who loves to join the competition to have a tummy scratch.  She squeals when shes hungry or can't find us and is completely house trained.  I can't imagine what life was like before she joined in with our crazy world.  I do keep having to remind myself that at some point she will probably triple in size but hey there are bloody big dogs out there and they are allowed inside so we will just wait and see how this all plays out....watch this space.