on being well hung

Why can't men some people ever hang clothes on the line the right way? I mean, it's obvious isn't it - you put the big stuff at the back so it doesn't cast shade over everything else. 

not like this

Granted, there are exceptions to the rules, depending on weather, article of clothing and minimising ironing. But apart from the exceptions, here are the rules, once and for all, on how to hang clothes on the line. For men some people:

how to hang clothes on the freaking line
1.  Big stuff like sheets, goes at the back, not the front. If you put them in the front, everything else will be in shade and take longer to dry. Everything must be done decently and in order.

pegs on seams

2.  Put small things at the front - but not my undies. (Some might argue they're big things but we won't go there!) We want to avoid showing off undies to anybody. However my nice nightie with the lace and strappy numbers, doesn't fit that category. They are OK to hang at the front, along with any of my lacy black bras.

3.  About socks. Try to put all the socks together. In fact, they can hide my undies on the row behind quite effectively. 

4.  Use the line space wisely. Don't leave huge gaps at the end of a row which doesn't leave enough space to hang anything else on that bit of line.


5.  Try not to put pegs in places where you will notice 'peg-marks' when wearing that thing. This cuts down on ironing which is extremely important. Avoid shoulders and use underarms or the upside-down theme where appropriate. If you must hang by the shoulders, try to put the peg on a seam, so the mark is less obvious. 

If in doubt about what's appropriate, just ask. You can be sure I will tell you the right way to do it!

So. Follow the rules, people, and you will always be...

well hung!

The author reserves the right to change the rules at any time without consultation or explanation.

serenity shattering sickos

Some sods are superb at shattering serenity. Sure as Sunday follows Saturday, someone small-minded will be satisfied to stuff up the status quo for everybody else.



See this beauty? There were 2 of them.

So there I was, soaking up the sun and serenity, when the simpletons start seriously setting a new sub-standard.  Smoking, screeching and definitely not being sensitive to the serenity. 


This guy walked right under my feet as I sat still as a stone, giving me a close-up look at the seriously long fingernails on these babies! He was looking for food. I gave him some chicken which he gulped down after flicking his long tongue around to find it on the ground.

A cheeky currawong stole some chicken too. Bold as brass, he was!
















This guy quickly climbed up this tree when Meyles walked nearby to go to the loo. The moment the door of the loo closed, the goanna peered curiously around the left side of the tree, then the right - to see if Meyles had disappeared. Then immediately he slid down the tree (backwards) and swaggered over to some trees, demonstrating a real attitude as he went. I stood very still watching this, feeling very privileged.

It's so beautiful to sit in the bush and tune into the birds and wildlife and just enjoy the beauty of the surroundings. I find it therapeutic and good for the soul. That is, of course, until the serenity is shattered by several sickos. But still.

this week in my history

This week I have –

<< Painted this. I did it for my dear old dad who turns 81 this week and is currently full-throttle on backyard chooks and gets a couple of dozen eggs a week from his chooks.  I pinched the idea from a picture I saw on Facebook.  I can’t wait to give it to him next weekend.

>>Saw my first wild dingo.  Walking at lunchtime on the bushwalking track at work.  It was a surprise.  It was a sandy colour with a bit of a bushy tail.  White tip on the end of the tail.  Pointed features, including pointy ears sticking up on top of its head. It was about the size of a… um… a dingo, I suppose!  He came out of the bush and ran across the road a few feet in front of us – maybe 20 feet – and disappeared into the bush on the other side. Very exciting.

>> Went to my usual Tuesday night uke group.  There were almost 50 other ukes in the room playing along to the uke tunes. We strummed along together to ‘Billie Jean’ and ‘I can hear music’ amongst others.  It’s a feel-good time where everyone can sing along and play. I also found the uke chords from Mr Google for Queen’s beautiful song “Love of my Life” which I have been enjoying by myself at home.


Passed my 2nd yearly breast exam since surgery!  Yayyy!  I have healthy tits!  Yes I do!  We bought a mirror to celebrate. It’s freaking huge. Weighs a tonne (well, 35 kilos actually) and fell off the wall about 2 seconds after we hung it up.  It’s OK and the marks on the wall can be fixed. But we will need a chain the size of a ship’s-anchor-chain to hang the thing on the wall.

How decadent. But a celebratory gift to myself for having healthy tits.

Note to women:  look after your tits.
Note to men:  Look after yours too. Breast cancer is not only a women’s disease.

what's under your bed?

I discovered the following stuff under the bed of someone I know very well (who gave me permission to share this on a blog) ....

• Fruit bowl on a stand
• Ice cream container with objects for hand exercises
• Plates
• Plastic cutlery
• Packet of candles
• Mosquito net
• Tin of mushrooms
• Rusty tin of beetroot (not pictured because I chucked it out)
• Carton of miscellaneous food and serviettes
• Fruit drink boxes
• Bottle of soy sauce in an icecream container
• Paper cups in a box
• Packets of hair colouring
• More paper plates and cutlery
• Ole Lade's old pressure cooker (which was put outside for the garbage collection, and has mysteriously re-appeared under this particular bed)
• Balloons
• Magazines and music
• Videos
• DVDs
• All the above are in crackly plastic bags, ready for the time of trouble!

All I can say is, lucky this person only has a single bed, otherwise who knows what else might be lurking under there!


Can you guess who's bed this is?


What's under your bed?

a clucking flurry

Photo:  Arvind Balamaran

I have good news and bad news.  Before you read on, you may like to read how to rescue a chook which is an introductory blog to this one.

Good news

The goods new is that there is a magnificent rooster strutting around as if he owns the park.  He has survived another night and was there this morning with a healthy appetite, responding positively to my ‘chook chook’ calls while throwing him his breakfast of oats.

He sports a proud, red comb on his head, a bronze mane, black tail and white body speckled with black spots.  And he struts around making chookie noises that sound like he’s very suspicious of me holding a towel and slowly walking closer and closer to him.

Bad News

OK so the Cardinal Cyn Chook Rescue Service has not been that successful unfortunately.  I have been up there to the park 6 times to try out the rescue skills.  But he clucks off around the kids play equipment and under the swings and there’s not a hope in hell of catching him.

Last night I got so close.  I thought I had him.  He clucked off at the very last second I tried in vain to nab him while he indignantly ran away in a clucking flurry.

Tonight we noted at dusk where he went to roost, then went back around 8.30pm to nab him at night while he was asleep.  But alas, it was not to be.  We couldn’t find him.  Either he’s already been rescued by the Cardinal-Cyn-Chook-Rescue-Service competition, or he’s been pretty smart and changed his roost.

He’s clucked off somewhere.  

We will of course monitor the rooster situation in the park over the next few days and if there’s anything else to report I will blog again.

In the meantime, happy clucking everyone.

how to rescue a chook

Photo:  Arvind Balamaran

During my walk at dusk last night I discovered, to my delight, a magnificent rooster strutting about a rubbish bin in the local park.  I wondered where the heck he’d come from because the closest house is about a kilometre away and there’s bush all around.  Upon closer inspection, I found another beautiful chook, already settled into a nice roost in the branches of some bushes about 5 feet off the ground nearby.

I get all excited when I find unexpected birds and animals.  Being outside on walks means I get to see this from time to time.  Like the time I discovered a baby snake, a flock of black cockatoos, a big green frog, a feisty bearded dragon lizard, or a baby frogmouth just left the nest.   So I was delighted to see the chooks in the park and thought about taking some food scraps or something to scatter on the ground for them to peck at.

Tonight on my walk at dusk, I arrived in the park looking for the chooks.  It was about the same time of day and I found a snugly roosting chook in the roosting tree.  I looked around for the rooster and to my horror, discovered chook feathers.  Lots of them.  Strewn on the ground a little way off. 

I was horrified.  Why didn’t I think about dogs in the park last night?  I should have called the RSPCA or something to come and collect them.  I feel partly responsible.  How awful.  I can’t express just how I react to things like this.  Once I saw a poor dead snake – a beautiful diamond python – which was obvious that a car had deliberately skidded over it to kill it.  This upsets me so much.  And I know it’s a dog’s nature to chase and kill birds.  Probably the same dog owner who let their dog do a big poo in the middle of the path and then didn’t bother picking it up.

So after making several unsuccessful attempts at finding an emergency animal rescue person, I decided to have a crack at chook rescue myself.  If the remaining chook is not removed to a safer location, then a dog will kill the remaining chook too.  I got the cat carry-box to put it in, loaded it in the back of the car and grabbed a towel to throw over the unsuspecting roosting chook. 

Unfortunately Meyles has been away for a few days and is not around to help me.  So I became a hopeful chook-rescuer myself.  By now it was dark and I turned the headlights on high beam to catch sight of the roosting bird.  As I got close I could see he had his head under his wing and if he wasn’t a bird I would’ve thought he was snoring!  But I was halfway through putting the towel over him when he woke up and with a start squarked and fluttered off and I was left without a hope of rescuing him.  Turns out it was the rooster.  It must’ve been the hen that died today.

Tune in for Part 2 of the story tomorrow night.  I have not completely finished with my efforts as chook rescuer yet.

it's a husband's job

It’s every good husband’s job to bring his wife breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning.  Yes it is!  Eggs.  Poached.  On toast with bacon.  And coffee.  Nom nom nom!

Every morning thru the week we wake up at sparrow’s, rush around and get out of the house while it’s still dark.  So on weekends, it is a total pleasure to wake without the alarm (even though I wake up at the same time anyway), lay in bed feeling warm and snug, and even though the cat howls to be fed and let out, to feel in a small way, that this window of time is pure pleasure.

About the cat

If we don’t cooperate with the cat’s routines, life becomes very difficult indeed.  So feeding, watering, and letting the cat in and out 100 times, giving him attention when and how he demands it, is just as much part of our morning rituals as coffee, unfortunately.   He has no appreciation for slow starts on Sundays.

The coffee

Over the years we’ve tried various machines, but always come back to our trusty little Italian gurgle thingy - one of those pots you put on the stove with water in the bottom that gurgles up through the little inner fountain inside as the water boils.  This was a present by my very good friend, PR, who always gives the best presents which are thoughtfully and perfectly chosen.  Her kindness and generosity have provided us with many, many good quality coffees.

Other appointments

In the bedroom it is important to have all the elements aligned – blinds open to see the morning sun, bedside lamps on, extra pillow piled up behind, the laptop, and at some point His Majesty the cat will arrive for his morning dose of attention at which point all other distractions must be put aside.

The morning sounds

I listen to the kitchen sounds – taps being turned on and off, plates being laid out, cutlery rattling and toast being spread.  Then footsteps as my breakfast approaches and is delivered to the pillow laid across my lap.  Breakfast!  I pick up my knife and fork.  I test the consistency of the egg yolks – soft.  Yes.  Life feels so good on a sunny Sunday morning.

It doesn’t get much better than this.  Are you taking note - you husbands out there?

7 sleight words

Let’s refresh our memory with this short quiz before we launch into the next 7 words from my family.  See how you score with these revision questions:

Revision

1. If you drive too slowly you would be known as a ____________?  (rhymes with ‘bunker’) answer
2. You eat it for breakfast with lots of bung bungs.  answer
3. True or False:  When cooking it is very important to get the tulupstiness at the right level. answer
4. If you have a dog with big eyes and long ears, it is most likely a _________? answer
5. An old geezer wearing a coat crossing the road is referred to as one of these. answer

Add up your score: 

If you scored 5/5 excellent!  

If you scored 4/5 pretty good

If you scored 3/5 average

If you scored 2/5 or less – weak as

Another 7 words

Gladoudovit (glad-ow-dovit):  a command to withdraw or cease involvement – especially in relation to physical proximity, e.g. if someone keeps pinching your toast at breakfast, you say with some force, “Look, gladoudovit will ya!”

Gaggledy (gaggle-dee):  out of sorts, irritable, unpredictable in terms of reactions and emotional stability, e.g. “Miss Anderson was all gaggledy in class today.”

Gizit (giz-it):  a request for an object to be promptly handed over and transferred to the requester.  This term “Gizit” is also an intuitive term which is understood entirely by others, even when they haven’t heard it before, e.g. when watching someone try and put batteries in the torch but not being able to get it to work, you say “Gizit!” and you have a go at it yourself.  

Prolly (pro-lee):   in all likelihood, very possible.  E.g.  Question:  “Have you done the dishes yet?”  Answer:  “Errr... prolly.”

Bort (bort):  the sound a fart makes, usually spoken with the same tonal inflection as the crime itself (no example included)

Doi-oi (doy-oy):  a large and obvious pimple.  Can be used in a derogatory sense to refer to an unfortunate sufferer as ‘Doi-oi boy’.  This term can be extended to illustrate the obviousness of the doi-oi, as in ‘doi-oi-oi-oi-oi’.

Wheely wheely wheely (whee-lee whee-lee whee-lee):  an expression of humour used within the context of someone else’s misfortune, especially if it’s deserved, e.g. when driving past someone being booked by a cop, you say ‘Wheelie wheelie wheelie!’

There’s the next instalment of special Sleight words.  Some of you have been using these words in your every day communication and this is highly recommended to expand your descriptive vocabulary.  Keep it up, as it is very rewarding to become so articulate!


Homework:  Make up a sentence using as many Sleight words as you can from all 3 blogs referred to here and you will win points!

a frog blog

This beautiful little guy lives happily in our vegie garden and at night he comes out and sits on the Marigolds hunting for insects and tiny crickets.  He is less than 2cm in length and is completely adorable.  His home is just outside our kitchen window and we hear him croaking away sometimes – especially if there’s rain about.

This is an Eastern Dwarf Tree Frog and he has sort of sticky feet that enable him to stick to vertical surfaces and hang on very easily.  We have seen these frogs in our garden from time to time but lately, we see this little guy in the same spot every night.  He likes to smell the flowers obviously!

Why do we have Marigolds in our Vegie garden?

Meyles has planted a border of Marigolds in the garden bed where we have carrots, beetroot and radish growing.  Marigolds provide a natural deterrent to nematodes (eel worms) which attack the root system of vegetables.  Nematodes are nasty buggers that live in soil.  They attach themselves to the roots of vegetables and then multiply so when you pull up your carrot, it has ugly nobby bits on it that make the carrot look like it’s got a bad case of vegie-warts!  Marigolds are more attractive to a lonely Nematode and so the naughty Nematode attacks the Marigold, and leaves the vegies alone.  For its trouble, Marigolds render the Nematodes sterile, so they don’t multiply.  This leaves the vegies much healthier and also provides a lovely display for your garden, and a home for little green froglets that croak away lovingly outside the window.

to bee or not to bee

"Well," said Pooh, "what I like best -- " and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.

  -- Winnie the Pooh, The House at Pooh Corner

Photo:  (left) Swamp Honey; (right) Olds' Honey

Did you know:

1. One teaspoon of honey represents the life work of one bee
2. Honeybees never sleep
3. A bee flies at 15 mph
4. If too much honey is raided from a hive, the bees become demoralised and die
5. Bees collect nectar from 50-100 flowers during a single trip 

My Olds have hives.  I don’t mean itchy hives – I mean BEE hives!  Also my sister and brother-in-law have a hive.  So in our family we have honey laid on.  What’s quite striking is the difference in taste between the honeys from the Olds – which is your backyard, garden variety honey; and what has become known as ‘Swamp Honey’ from a different location where my sister lives, where the flowers are predominantly from Melaleuca (Paperbark) trees.

Here is what the expert tasters say:

  

Expert Taster	Swamp Honey	Olds’ Garden Honey
Cardinal Cyn	A stronger flavoured, full bodied honey.  Would appeal to the more discerning honey eater.	Light in flavour.  Short on the tongue.  Would appeal to a broader audience – kids would prefer it.
Meyles	Much darker in colour.  A depth in colour which translates to taste.  A much stronger flavour that lingers longer on the palette.	Light in colour and taste.  A hit of sweetness that soon dissipates.

Lately my favourite recipe is Tagine Chicken with Dates & Honey.  It's a fantastic blend of flavours.  I like honey in black tea, on crumpets or croissants, and in some beef dishes.  Oh, and with Jamie's chicken skewers with satay sauce and drizzled honey.  

It's versatile, and a 'must have' in anyone's pantry.  Yum.  Comments anyone?