I'm sure I sat down here with a full packet of biscuits only a mintute ago. Now there's just an empty packet on my desk. Ooops. No wonder those last few pregnancy kilos are being particularly stubborn.
ANM had to start work at 8 this morning so I used the driving-him-to-work opportunity to go to the shops early to see if the mag was there yet. I went into Coles but they still had the last issue on the shelves, so I headed over to the newsagent and IT WAS THERE. The teaser on the cover read:
"My baby used a potty from birth" Meet Australia's true Earth Mother (complete with capital E and capital M)
So I started giggling... but managed to almost hold myself together while I paid for it. I think the poor girl behind the counter wondered what was wrong with me.
Anyway, they used my words (albeit cut/edited... which was needed) and gave me the writing credit. I'm happy with it.
Now to wait for the reactions!!
The mag we are in comes out tomorrow. I hope I don't come across as too much of a fruitcake. I hope the photos are nice. I hope my family isn't embarrassed.
I wonder what time the newsagent opens...
I've been sitting here trying to assemble a random bunch of thoughts into a coherent and well-flowing post. It ain't a-happening.
1. Namecalling
Little C heard his cousin calling me Mary a few months ago and decided he would do it too, although I'm still Mum if he's tired or hurt. I don't think I mind, but some people think I should...
2. Who needs toys when you have doorstops?
"Heeheeeheeeeee, look at me!"
"I'm a Dalek"
Erm, moving right along...
3. Fun with glass
Mr T and his friend went to the new Canberra Glassworks for an Off the Street kiln forming session. They started off with a postcard-sized piece of plain clear glass, added bits and pieces of other glass stuff, melted it all together in the kiln, and ended up with these! Cool, huh? They had much fun. Thanks Auntie S!
4. Flight of the Conchords
is my new favourite thing to watch on the telly.
Standing in the sitting room, totally skint
And your favourite jersey is covered in lint
You want to sit down, but you sold your chair
So you just stand there
You just stand there
You just stand there
(ch 10 after Rove on Sundays)
5. I wonder...
if there are good viruses, like there are good bacteria.
Okeydokes, that's enough of a glimpse into my mind for now.
I eat porridge for breakfast every morning, winter and summer (and autumn and spring) and have done so for aaages. I usually use quick oats, which as far as I can tell are just crushed up rolled oats, and water. ANM was watching me make my porridge this morning and commented on the fact that I don't measure anything. I just flick a pile of oats into a bowl, stick the bowl under the tap for a sshhhhlllpppp of water and bung it in the microwave for one and a half to two minutes, depending on my mood. Now, the weird thing it it almost always turns out perfectly. Not too sloppy and not too dry. Why is it that I have this uncanny ability to make perfect porridge? It must be the Force.
May the Force be with you too!
Do you ever think of super-interesting stuff to write on your blog, think "I'll remember that" then later sit down at the computer and have total brain-freezure?
This one of my favourite childhood poems. Reading it as an adult I can now see so much more in it than a simple nonsense rhyme. I love the rhythm of it too. The whole thing gives me tingles.
The Jumblies
They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, "You'll all be drowned!"
They called aloud, "Our Sieve ain't big,
But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig!
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!"
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed away in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,
"O won't they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!"
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat,
And they fastened it down with a pin.
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said, "How wise we are!
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long,
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!"
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong,
In the shade of the mountains brown.
"O Timballo! How happy we are,
When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar,
And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!"
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees,
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart,
And a hive of Silvery Bees.
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws,
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws,
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
And in twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more,
And every one said, "How tall they've grown!
For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone,
And the hills of the Chankly Bore!"
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast;
And every one said, "If we only live,
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,---
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!"
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Today at playgroup Little C had a moment when he thought I'd left without him. It was at the end when everyone was making a beeline for the door. Little C must have realised everyone was leaving, done a quick scout around the room without seeing me and panicked. He raced out the front, bawling, squeezing through all the other mums to emerge out in the carpark. I could see what was happening through the triple glass doors but all these women were pushing in front of me, squeezing through the doors with their humungous prams and I couldn't get to him. I was calling out to him but he couldn't hear me through all the glass and prams and mums and kids. Eventually a couple of people emerged out of their self-absorbed huge-pramness to ask who the poor, distraught "little girl" belonged to and I was let through the pack to claim him. If I hadn't been in amongst a gazillion people I probably would have cried with him.
