A whole lot of Mid Century Modern.

More from Open House. This time the owner of Roddy & Ginger.

High School Reunion.

Looming on the near horizon is my High School Reunion. We have been a lazy year and didn't do a ten year reunion - nor a twenty year - so now that it is actually happening you would think enough time had passed to be self actualized about the high school experience and embrace a return with it's opportunity to meet up with those I have not seen since school and yet seem to remember (most at least) quite vividly. Perhaps that's the problem???? Even though there is a handful of old students I still see and will accompany on the night I have found myself dreading the prospect ever so slightly and begun to think maybe I just wont go. But because I still live in Canberra (where I went to school and where the reunion will be) there is little excuse not to go. Or is there?

Here are some possible outs I have come up with. Each with it's own difficulties and advantages.

Excuse 1

Have won an overseas holiday and trip co incides with school Reuinion. To be truly convincing must actually leave the country. Funds an issue.

Excuse 2

Am on call at Canberra Hospital as nuero trauma specialist. Has added advantage of hinting at emminent and unexpected rise in the world since high school graduation.
Excuse 3
Fake own death.

Have only a month to orchestrate one of these.

making.

A card made to thank my acapuncturist Mei Wu. I like this because I think it actually looks like her. How many people can say they have been honored in a polymer clay collage? Hope she liked it.

Existential Crisis

My liitle boy starts school next year. I can't believe it. Only seems like yesterday I was driving home on Ruby's first day at school and thinking "Thankgod I've got a baby waiting at home". Now he's ready to spread his wings too. Of course ever the optimist I fear an existential crisis looming the minute I wave goodbye at the Kindergarten door and head home to an empty house. Even Col has warned I should have something in place - be it job or study or medication....

I ponder my options almost continually as my state of mind swings from happy to stay at home doing nothing (a fabulous new euphinism to describe a day in the service of a household's physical, mental, social and administrative needs) or get some paid work and much needed validation from the outside world or studyVisual Design part time - and fulfil a goal I've had all my life. One day I am telling Col I want him to do a CV for me and vowing to make appointments at an employment agency. The next I am down with an onslaught of infections and thankful we know how to manage as a family on one income, reconciling myself to a life much like the one I've got but with perhaps a little extra time to blog and surf the net. Then I am checking admissions dead lines for Visual design courses and cursing that I still have no assemblage (whatever that is) - or any portfolio at all for that matter. Whatever next year entails I hope I'm doing whatever I'm doing by choice and not because the rest was no longer viable.

Some Welcome Rain.

Glory be to Ruby who has broken the Canberra drought this week by painting the outdoor table in "Poppy".

Universal Complaint

It can't be easy being five years old and trying to get your message accross. Frustrated recently by his inablity to get out the exact right words, Archie has taken to more visual means of communication. Aided by the universal symbol for DON"T (A circle with a slash through it) he has signalled to his family what is acceptable and what is not.
I wonder if this would pass muster in all relationships? Someone has a problem with something you've done? Do as Ruby does with Archie now and just tell them to "Put it in writing".

Sisters should not share your allocated time on the computer.

Sisters should not slam doors -if you do I wont love you. (See love heart on right hand side with a cross through it).

When returning home from a party sisters should share out the lolly bag by half.

Please don't put honey on my crumpet.

What's upset the prom princess?

Have been playing around a bit with photoshop. I love that you can take any old measly drawing, put in a fab background and voila!

Only Their Mother Can Tell Them Apart

We are off to Dubbo zoo for a few days. See you when we get back!

Australia's Next Top Model (again)

Regular readers of this blog (ie my sister and possibly you Karen W) will know how disgusted I was with Australia's Next Top Model - the series on Fox8 which obscenely perpetuates the beauty obsession and thinness imperative our culture places on young girls and women. Well now I feel that I should come clean and admit that I have continued watching the series and that it's just about, like, only my FAVOURITE SHOW EVAH!!!!!!!!! And, like, I really totally want Cassie 2 win.

Poor Cassie. The other girls have picked up on her vulnerability and turned her into the scapegoat for just about everything. It is fascinating really just how mean girls can be. And the worse any one of their particular fortunes on the show are going the more Cassie cops it.

As we dont get Foxtel in our house I am relying on my mum and dad to tape it for me Tuesday nights and then Ruby and I watch it after her netball training on wednesday night. I am using the show as an invaluable opportunity to educate my daughter on the dangers a girl can face when her identity is based on looks and in this way I hope to get accross some very important entertainment .. oops, I mean messages.

Red Shoes

I love this image. I found it on etsy and I think I am going to have to buy a copy. Its by artist Kelly Angard and you can find more of her lovely work here: http://www.kellya.etsy.com/

Employment issues

Uh Oh. Last night, while I was sitting in front of the computer, Col called my bluff on getting a job. He had come accross an advertisement on the Pedal Power website looking for a part time book keeper/office manager and thought it sounded like an opportunity for me: Twenty hours a week. Record Keeping. Dealing with people/cyclists. Must say I was lost for words.

Not that there is pressure I should go and contribute to household income (though that would be nice) but there is the sense from all that a small job would be good for me.

It is true that I have complained to anyone who will listen these last couple of years of my extended Betty Friedan moment, the frustration I feel and the fear that I am the sum only of a mind numbing rota of house duties. But just lately I seem to have relaxed a bit and maybe even sensed my life is opening up a little. So I have to say getting a job was the last thing on my mind. It didn't help of course that I was ebaying at the time and only minutes away from placing the winning bid on my birthday present - Two Vintage Dining Chairs with Sleek Retro Line.

But now I've had a few days to think it over a bit and I'm kind of liking the idea. Especially as they look to be having trouble filling the position and will be getting desperate. Of course I would be honest about my shortcomings: I have no experience with MYOB. I haven't been in paid work for seventeen years. I struggle daily with chronic illness. Twenty hours is five two many. I shun bikes.

But there are worries too. What if I had another three month run of back to back infections like these past three? Can the internet ever really be your world (I am sure it showed on my face - the horror, my friend, of a job tearing me away from you, the computer. And why now? Why, when we've only just secured for ourselves unlimited downloads in non-peak hours????) or be a good subsitute for spending the day with actual people (or even crazy mad keen cyclists as in this case)? These are the questions I must ask myself.

The things you do.

Thanks must go to Archie for his help last night in explaining to the plumber what the problem was before I had the chance. "WE PUT THINGS IN OUR TOILET" he explained before the plumber could even set foot inside the house. "Things you PUT in a toilet" he elaborated delicately, hinting at the whole raison d'etre someone might invite a plumber over. He then followed the plumber around the backyard to see if he might be of any help. I hope he is not thinking of becoming a plumber because as Ruby said plumbing is the "fifth worst job" she can think of. I do think though Archie has some kind of bent for how things work (and I use the word 'things' here in a more general way). For example yesterday while I was hiding from my life in the bathroom he unpicked the lock from the outside with a paddle pop stick.

In other household matters, crunch time has arrived. I have asked Ruby to decide whether the thick navy tracksuit pants are pajamas or school uniform. They cannot be both.