The Grinch

This is me. Not it's not. I LOVE Christmas, almost more than I love Halloween. Anything that involves an excuse to cook silly things, decorate the house, make time-consuming and tedious cards, indulge my childish side, hide things in cupboards, etc, is my idea of fun.

I want to make a new Advent thingy (well, it's not a calendar, so I have to call it a thingy) but the idea I have set my heart on requires sewing and the machine is STILL dead and will not be re-animated until next week. Too late for 1 December, obviously. Time to beg, borrow or steal a machine, then find some time to sew.

I must also mention how happy I am about the election result, although I'm still curious as to who Rudd will turn out to be. Turnbull's self-serving speech about egalitarianism, from the richest electorate in the country, was truly nauseating. And I am thrilled that we have a female deputy PM. Ok, that's enough from me.

16 Candles

Plus another 24. So, yes, I turned 40. On Saturday my friends Casey, Jen, Justine, Sharon, Simone, Megan and Amy came over for lunch in the garden and we had a gorgeous afternoon. And I got lots of beautiful presents (artfully arranged by Jen the Stylist, of course).

On Sunday we headed over to Andrew's parents' place and had a picnic on the beach - Moet, prawns, oysters, etc - with family. Very civilised indeed, but I don't have any photos yet.

You may notice that there is a tiny Tiffany blue box in my stash pile - my mother gave me a beautiful little blue enamel pen from Tiffany & Co, which I shall probably rarely use outside the house for fear of losing it!

And I am also now the proud owner of a garden fishpond/bowl with a Tiffany blue interior, thanks to Casey (photos to come). We filled it with feng shui fish (7 gold, one black), who we called Snow White and the 7 Dwarves, but sadly Snow White has already gone to the big pond in the sky. Phoebe had a very touching burial service yesterday afternoon. I want to know if that means our feng shui is now BAD.

Shopping

In case you doubt that every blog title is a book or movie, I'll link them from now on.

So ... shopping. I hate shopping. My idea of a perfect shopping trip is looking in a window while on my way somewhere, seeing something lovely, trying it on there and then and buying it for not too much money. And this all happens in less than 10 minutes.

Anyway, at lunchtime today I went to look for a frock for my birthday lunch (not to eat, JUSTINE). Here is my summary:

1. Maxi dresses are wrong. I don't care if you're tall.
2. 40-year-old knees are wrong. I don't care if you're Demi Moore.
3. I hate shopping.

I will probably be wearing my favourite Lisa Ho dress that I wear to all special occasions. It's 10 years old. The upside is that it still fits.

The Shining

Do I ever do anything except photograph my children? Well, yes, mostly I work. But that's too excruciatingly dull to talk about. And I cook. But I've been bored with that too ...

So I did something I've been wanting to do for years and signed up for a writing course. Yes yes yes, I write for a living, but that's horrid commercial writing. I mean 'creative' (choke) writing. I'm doing it online - a) because I hate people (and I don't want to sit in a circle reading things out and being embarrassed); and b) because I can do it any time it suits me. I have finished the first week. I'm not sure what I think of it. There is some good writing being posted; and some utter shite, I am sad to report. We get feedback a couple of times a week from our 'tutor', and we also have to write two lots of feedback on other people's work for every piece we post ourselves. My question is - because I'm a horrible cynic - if we have to say nice things (even when we may not be thinking them) - why should we believe anything our tutor says about our writing? Surely HE'S just being nice too ...

Oh yeah, I called this post The Shining because I have been re-reading it. As Stephen King himself has said, it has its flaws, but geez it's scary. The other night I had to get Andrew to escort me to the loo because I was too damn scared to go by myself. Imagine being able to scare someone that much with your writing. Cool.

Tom Brown's Schooldays

Or Flashman. Depending on your reading tastes.

Hol is not very happy about being sent to Edgecliff Prep next year. But his dad, both his uncles and both his grandfathers went to Big School (no, truly, that's what they call it), so he was doomed from the start.

Yesterday was the day we went to get uniforms. Holden was thrilled because he overhead some boys talking about Runescape, this game he and all his buddies play online. Obviously it hadn't occurred to him that the others boys at Prep might be like the boys he knows.

We got: shirts, shorts, socks, garters, ties, hat, tracksuit, schoolbag, sports bag and sports shorts. And we ordered the blazer. My wallet is now considerably lighter.

But the best thing is that when we got home from school (ie Orange Grove) Holden declared that he wanted to try on the whole outfit. He EVEN grudgingly consented to being photographed. I'm afraid he looks a little gormless, and the shoes are wrong, but at least khaki suits him.

My Beautiful Laundrette

It's my 40th birthday soon, and I'm completely underwhelmed by the whole concept. But presents are always good. On the weekend we went and checked out the Balmain Art & Craft show and Andrew bought me some laundry.
There was an exhibition of this artist's work in a gallery close to us, and I kept driving past and seeing this particular painting. I kept meaning to find time to drop in, but naturally missed it. So when I walked into the Balmain show and saw the very same painting, I decided it was meant to be MINE.
Andrew says it's very me. It's sort of drab and domestic is probably what he means. Anyway, I love it, and it now sits above our Parker sideboard and looks fabulous. I might take a photo of it in situ ...

The Ring

I'm not quite sure why Phoebe decided she had to be the girl from the Ring, but she was very scary. When I told people what she was dressing up as, everyone said 'has she SEEN the movie?'. Now, I know I may not be the world's MOST responsible mother, but even I don't let a 7-year-old watch movies like that.


And Holden was Freddy and NO, he hasn't seen Nightmare on Elm Street either. Although bought costumes are normally not allowed in this house, I did relent and buy the Freddy mask, as I just wasn't sure my skills with latex (none) would cut it.

Jen and I (we do Halloween together every year) had decided that as there was no party, we weren't dressing up. Then we both decided at the last minute that it just would not DO. So this is us.

Nightmare on Elm Street

Every year I make silly stuff for Halloween, but the only thing that ever gets photographed is the jack o'lanterns and the kids. So this year I decided to take photos of our sheltered workshop. Jen was sticking things on lollipops (as you do) to put in the treat bags ... I was making cookies and white chocolate lollipops (courtesy of Martha, of course) for the kids to take to school. And I couldn't resist making tags with the gorgeous scary tree punch and teeny weeny Halloween brads ...