Bloguary. It's already a failure. Aircon Gypsies.

Ugh I'm irritated because I missed yesterday in the great Bloguary blogging spree. I missed it because the totally cray weather had me hiding out once more at the inlaws in their aircon. This time with underpants. But sans any kind of technologically appropriate device to blog on.

Anyway, whatevs.

The temperature reached 43.5 degs Celsius in ye olde Western Suburbs of Brisbane. I think it is the hottest I have ever experienced. Just GAH.

We then, like veritable gypsies, moved on in the late afternoon to my sister-in-law's house. She was away and allowed us to stay and revel in her aircon.  I turned that shit right down to 20C. Fuck that 24C crap, this was an EMERGENCY.  I got quite cold at one point during the night. Don't judge me.

We also drank some of her wine and ate all her remaining rum balls. SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED US TO!

Today we packed the caravan, harnessed up the horses and traveled onwards to our next airconditioned host, our family friends the Ms. They also have a pool. They are lucky we didn't set up camp there.

Back home now in the ungodly heat. It is taking ALL MY STRENGTH not to wake up tomorrow and drive down to Masters and shout at the first person I see "SIGN ME UP FOR AN INTEREST FREE AIRCONDITIONING DEAL! I'LL PAY ANYTHING! I WILL GIVE YOU MY FIRST BORN CHILD!" but I know it might cause marital disharmony. You know, DEBT TRAPS and all that. Blah blah BORING SNORE.

I am thinking of starting a Crowdfunding project so people can club together and help me collaborate the hell out of the artistic concept that is AIRCONDITIONING THE SHIZZLE OUT OF MY HIZZLE!

Would you donate to this good cause? YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!

Also, how about that cricket, eh? And so forth.

Bloguary. Hot in the city.

So I'm thinking of blogging every day in January. It's really hard because I find it difficult to fit anything else in around my unfortunate addiction to Breaking Bad. In fact, I've already missed a day. In fact I missed the first day of January.

Anyway, if I had actually started it properly I was totally going to call it "Bloguary" and it was going to become a social media phenomenon with a logo and shit.

 

Anyone want to join in? Can you make me a logo?

Anyway, it's absolutely fucking ridiculous weather at the moment. Tomorrow is probably going to be the hottest day round these parts IN ALL OF TIME.  Thank God we have a progressive federal government who are embracing climate change mitigation like there's no tomorrow. OH HANG ON NO WE DON'T.

We escaped to my inlaws who have aircon and a pool. I wore my togs there and after I had a swim I realised that I hadn't brought any undies to change into. This would have raised the awkward choice between wearing my short cotton dress with no knickers (undesirable), or asking my 70+ year old mother-in-law to borrow a pair of hers (not my first preference), had I not noticed that I had conveniently stashed a pair of harem pants in the swimming bag at an earlier juncture. Thank God. Wearing them undie free was by far the better option.

Saved by the harem pants. Is there nothing they can't do?

Stay cool hombres.

Double entendres.

Hello there. I must stop this sporadic blogging because it makes it hard to know where to begin, my life is just that rich and full. Maybe I will undertake some sort of New Year blog daily challenge or some such. I'll think on it.

Anyway, I will start by saying, DO YOU KNOW, MR HUMPHRIES, MY PUSSY WAS SO HOT AND FURRY, I HAD TO TAKE IT DOWN THE SHOPS TO GET IT SHAVED!

"Mr. Humphries!  Leave my pussy alone!"

No, not THAT pussy you filthy beasts. Animals, the lot of you.

THIS pussy!

Before!

After! HAHAHA! Oh dear. I hardly recognised my pussy! Not quite a Brazilian but the feline equivalent of leaving a "landing strip" perhaps? A poodle cut maybe?

I had cleaned up one too many hairball vomits and cut poo out of her bum fur for the last time, my friends. This is the way of the future. I cannot believe we hadn't done it sooner. I am NEVER getting a long haired cat again. To be fair, this cat sort of foisted herself upon us.

I mean, I really LOVE cats, but this one PUSHES HER LUCK! I mean, she strolls in here, weasles her way into our hearts, forces us to adopt her, and then proceeds to VOMIT HAIRBALLS every five seconds whilst determinedly refusing to do any of the PLEASANT tasks that are the lot of a feline pet, like you know, letting you cuddle her or showing any interest in sitting on a lap. She is as aloof as a..well, I don't know what but FREAKING ALOOF.

When she's not crying to be rescued off the roof that is. That's right my friends. She can get ONTO the roof, but apparently not OFF the roof. Once again I was forced to retrieve her from said roof this evening using a LADDER. I KNOW! THE FREAKING HUMANITY!

In other news, it's hot, I've had ANOTHER tummy bug, we went to Kingscliffe and it was lovely, it's hot, I'm sweaty, P had her actual real life dance concert and by Jove it was hilarious for about the first 1 1/2 hours and then by the end of the ALMOST 3 HOURS we were FLAGGING just a bit. THE FREAKING HUMANITY! Also it's hot, I've done some Christmas shopping ONLINE and feel SMUG about it, I want to go and live in a RURAL IDYLL and buy a CHEAP HOUSE so we can stop being wage slaves and LIVE FOR THE NOW and craft shit and grow crap and sew and cook and be creative bohemian rural types. STYLISH ones. Not, you know, unfashionable ones. PERISH THE THOUGHT. Also I wish I could take artistic photos. Damn my pork sausage fingers.

Anyway I think I'm starting to become incoherent so here's some Kingscliffe visuals. Is that how you spell it? I'm losing it.

Ciao bellas.

Lalala - weekend things and stuff and Key Learnings and weather and whatnot.

Hello there peeps.

There has been some deadset doolally weather round these parts. I spent a few days up the coast at the Slapdash Family compound and there was a hum dinger of a hail storm while I was getting my hairs done at the, what I call, hairdresser. All us ladies there pressed ourselves up against the glass, robed in our capes and curlers, squealing and screeching things like "Oh me car!" and "Should we get some towels?" and "Everyone insured?".

Luckily the Noble Honda Civic that is our chariot of choice seems to have survived with the merest ding in the roof, despite veritable CRICKET BALL sized hailstones.

Then yesterday our Gracious and Tree-lined Suburb* was at the epicentre of another nutty storm that rent the kiddies daycare centre sun shades in twain and caused no end of consternation amongst eager local social media users. The magic of modern technology meant I could see a video of the hailstorm as it happened two houses away from ours, even though I was in the city at work. It's like living in the future!

Anyway the long weekend up the coast was very pleasant, as my brother, the prodigal son, had returned for a brief visit and my parents killed the fatted calf and whatnot**.

Here is evidence of said fraternal visitation.

During the visit I learnt some Key Learnings. The first of these Key Learnings was focused on my mother's dog. He is a sort of cattle dog and has been, for most of his life, rather neurotic and barky and disobedient. Push came to shove recently and Mum was forced to employ some Expert Assistance. aka Dog Whisperers.

They taught her how to show him who is boss. Apparently he had been stressed out because he thinks he is Pack Leader and frankly he is just not up to the job, being small of brain and feeble of character. So hence the manic barking and stress pooing and mentalness.

Mum had to give him what for and lay down the law and set things straight and so forth. Which, essentially, consists of sternly saying the word "BAH!" to him when he is playing up and carrying on like a pork chop. Apparently "BAH!" is a Universal Dog Sound that speaks to canines on a Profound Level and signals to them that All is Right in the world and that they are not pack leader, so they should just chill the hell out and relax and take it easy and enjoy a responsibility free lifestyle.

Weirdly enough it seems to have had a remarkable effect on the beast. So there you go.

The next, darker and more disturbing Key Learning, is as follows.
 My mother starkly revealed to me on the weekend that, even though since 1997 I have laboured under the illusion that I received the Highest Possible Mark for Senior English, thereby rendering me the Best English Student that my teacher had ever had, I did not, in fact, receive the HIghest Possible Mark and it is possible to get a Higher Mark then the mark that I got.

I know.

I basically don't even know who I am any more and have essentially been living a lie.

I had to have a good lie down after that revelation I can tell you.

Moving on from the destruction of lifelong belief systems, I had to race home from the coast in order to gussy P up in her ballet tutu and a face full of makeup for her official ballet photographs.

I am not cut out for this ballet mum caper. We still have a dress rehearsal AND a concert to go.

Not only will I need a lie down after it all but I daresay I will need a stiff drink or two by the time it is all over.

Cute though, right? Cute as a bug's ear.

In a final point for you this evening, I present an utterly hilarious and deadset clever piece of satire from the Tunnel Presents website. I've heard the person who wrote it is really good looking, nice smelling, kind, clever, generous, an excellent gardener with a high commitment to personal hygiene and permanently well styled hair. Ahem.

Good night readers. And good luck.


*and by Gracious I mean Bogan-acious
**by killing the fatted calf I mean shouted him to a bloody spensive steak at the local tavern

Mundanity, yo.

Hello all. How are youse guys going? Me, I'm tired, bra-less and wearing stained clothes, thanks for asking.

I'd like to extend a personal welcome to all my new followers! You have just taken your first big step towards happiness and personal fulfilment. Trust me! I am like the Anthony Robbins of the blogging world. No shit. I am unleashing some serious "power from within" right now. I kid you not.

But enough with the fart jokes, let's move onto more serious matters, like my previous post on the impromptu beauty pageant P was in at the cinema.

The cinema emailed me back and seemed very worried and concerned and thanked me for letting them know.  I'm thinking the manager had no idea what the fairy ladies had planned.  Hopefully they will pay more attention when organising this sort of thing in the future. Maybe I should go this Saturday as a sort of mystery shopper just to check up on them. Hmm.

Anyhoo, today was mundane, which was fine with me.  The weather is positively apocalyptic in SEQ at the mo.  Rain, rain and more rain.  Thinking of everyone in places like Gympie who are going under for like the fourth time this year. Bad juju.

As a result we were pottering round inside. Here's a rundown of the day in dot points, my favourite inclusion in a blog post. Apart from irony. I love that bitch sick.  Don't ever leave me.

• Made wholemeal Vegemite and cheese scrolls, baked the shit out of them until they were as tough as old boots and essentially inedible, and then ate like a thousand of them anyway cos that's just how I roll. Or should I say, that's how I "Vegemite scroll".  Ahahahaha.

P declared them too "crunchy". She was right. Check out the one on the far left. Dry as a dead dingo's donger, as they say.

• During lunch P got really tired and excused herself from the table, changed into her jarmies, snuggled down in her bed AND WENT TO SLEEP FOR LIKE 2 HOURS! I know. WTF. Another sign the apocalypse is nigh.  I got really freaking excited that maybe I would have both kids sleeping during the day for the first time in MONTHS AND MONTHS but naturally B, having had a good sleep in the morning, wouldn't oblige me, the little devil.  I rang Michael to tell him and he said "Maybe it's something you did in a past life that means you can't get the kids to sleep at the same time." I think he could sense my eyes narrowing through the telephone line.

• Went next door for coffee in the afternoon and workshopped with my neighbour all the ways we could do more exercise and eat better, then came home and ate a whole lot of ice cream out of the tub while the kids were looking the other way.  Ugh.

In conclusion, I leave you with some Before and After photos of our recent backyard blitz.  Prepare to be amazed. Amazed I tell you.

Before...

 After...

I know what you are thinking but don't worry we mulched the herb garden after this photo.

Somebody call Gardening Australia, I think I can feel a visit from Costa coming on!

Any news, dudes? Spill it.

xx

Some stuff from my brain, in dot points.

• I just realised the Blogger statistics thing has reverted to counting my own pageviews of the blog AND I CAN'T CHANGE THE BLOODY THING BACK! This means it's been counting all the times I click on the blog as well as when actual other non-me people do it.  Thus rendering the statistics TOTALLY INACCURATE. And considering how many times I click on the ole blog myself this means that probably in real life the tally is more like, I don't know, 2. Rather than 10000.  Just when I was about to quit work and live off my earnings too!  Sigh. 

• I had to work from home today because of the NATURAL DISASTER FLOOD PESTILENCE FAMINE CYCLONE TORNADO GLOBAL WARMING crazy type weather.  Good things about this include - 

• No commute. 
• No getting in trouble for talking to colleagues. 
• No commute. 

         Bad things about this include -

• No colleagues to talk to.  
• No aircon.   I'm not complaining, there's people out there with raging rivers running through their houses and no power.  We were barely touched, just a tree down in the back-yoo-ard (as P calls it).  This has of course added to the whole chaotic derelicte vibe we've got going on in the garden anyway as I'm sure you can imagine.

Snapped at the base.  Look away from feral weeds thanks very much.

Bye old Apple Gum.  Look away from the feral weeds ploise.

• M's workplace was closed today.  He didn't have to "work from home" though. I couldn't be doing with that, so I kept the baby home from daycare and made M look after him.  Bahaha.

• Made this the other night. It was SO GOOD.  Purveyors of Marion's Kitchen Brand, ploise feel free to send me a million packages of this if you want.  You know you do.  

That's all.  Thanks for stopping by.  I hope you all did ok in the weather.  Don't drive through flood water people.  That is for fools and lunatics.

Slapdash-issima.

Food, glorious food! La, lalala, custard! Food, glorious food! Something, ya dada, mustard!

I keep thinking of things to add to the litany of my areas of excellence as devised in this earlier blog post.  Something I left off the list was my particular talent for remembering song lyrics. Mind like a steal trap, people.

Anyway loyal readers, I write to you this afternoon from an undisclosed location, deep in the hills, where I have retreated to my bunker with a stockpile of hoarded tinned goods and bottled water*. The apocalyptic weather has everybody panicking. Rain, wind, tornadoes! The end of the world is surely nigh.  What's a girl to do in this weather but comfort cook and eat for Australia?

Despite all of my personal deficiencies, my friends, it is true that when the planets are aligned and the spirit (or a spirit as the case may be) moves me, I can achieve greatness.

Yesterday, I felt the spirit of Peg Bundy, my erstwhile Muse, leave my body, to be replaced by none other than the spirit of infamous cookery sexpot Nigella Lawson. I could tell it was her because I developed a sort of Nigella induced Tourettes condition. I was overcome with the urge to shout out random things like 'unctuous!' and 'luscious!' and 'full fat, added salt, midnight snack, motherfuckers!' in between barking like a dog and licking food suggestively off my fingers and tossing my chestnut main like a spirited filly.


I'm sure you will agree the likeness is quite striking.

I got my longsuffering husband M to take these pics while I was getting all Nigella on everyone's arses. I'm not sure that he's really caught the "Slapdash Mama" vision just yet but full marks to him for indulging me.

So, the reason I've got that food song in my head, and even taking into consideration my ambivalence (tending towards downright hostility)  to Australia Day jingoism, is that I do enjoy any chance I get to make (and eat) seasonally appropriate foodstuffs.

So, dear reader, I made lamingtons. This was no mean feat because it involves making a SPONGE CAKE which I actually hadn't ever done before.  Even though I was channelling Nigella, I actually used a Stephanie Alexander recipe.  But I reckon Nigella would be down with that shizz because she's always stealing borrowing other people's recipes anyway.  And I've got this kind of weird idea that celebrities are all friends, constantly dropping into each other's houses and chewing the fat over a few spritzers and a bowl of chips, so I'm sure they know each other and are totes bffs.

The aforementioned lamingtons.  VERY NICE thank you very much.  A feather-light sponge soaked in the requisite amount of chocolate icing, then rolled in the perfect amount of coconut. I think even a rusted on CWA member would have liked these babies.

And then, just for good measure, I rustled up a bit of balsamic vinegar marinaded butterflied lamb for dinner. 

It was good.  Very good.  Nigella, you know your stuff.

 Look, don't be jealous, not everyone can be as talented as I am.  Women want to be me, men want to be with me. And eat my lamb.  What can I say?

Are you possessed by any spirits? Like making seasonal treats? Have you caught my vision? If so, please return it at once!

Don't get washed away fellow Queenslanders.

Mwah.


*I may or may not actually be lying about this.

EDITED TO ADD: I just reached 10000 views! Exciting. Also am linking up with Alicia from One Mother Hen's Open Slather! Still haven't worked out buttons. Urgh.

Climate change refugees. Family circus.

I'm sorry, I can't hold it in any longer people....OH GOD THE HEAT!!! We headed out of our hideous hell of a house this arvo to escape to my inlaws in BrisVegas. They have both air conditioning and a pool. We left so fast that our house looked as though we had evacuated  because Mt Vesuvius was about to erupt or something. Washing scattered everywhere, food on the bench, a cup of water on the floor, unmade beds. Poignant, deadset poignant. We are climate change refugees.

Amusing stuff that happened this week on my days of unpaid slavery at home include the following...

- I parked the cars too close together in the garage so when M went to get into the driver's seat he got pretty cross. He yelled at me to come out to the garage, so I could show some remorse for my ineptitude. Joke was on him however because as I watched him squeeze himself comically into the front door, folding his long legs in half to fit, this music was playing in the background on Classic FM. Thank you ABC for your excellent timing and dedication to slapstick humour.



- I came across P reciting the following sentence to herself in an ominous glimpse into her psyche..." I didn't do it, B___ did it. I didn't do it, B____ did it".

Terrifying, frankly. I guess she's finally worked out what a baby brother is for. Blaming shit on.

- P dressed up like this, and said "I'm going to the royal ball to marry Jesus and then we will dance together for everyone."

I know, I was confused too. Catholic daycare has a lot to answer for.

That's about it I think.

Stay cool amigos. If you can. If I could drive around 24 hours a day in our air conditioned car I would.

Feeling orrrffff. Sweating. Vagueness.

Baby B and I have been feeling a bit orffff this week. First he had the vomits and then he was grizzly and feverish for days.  I don't know if it's just the God-awful weather we're having but I've had a killer headache and been a bit feverish and shivery and bleugh in the tummy and the shrapnel in me knee from the war has been giving me gip too...no, wait, that's not me, I just channeled a returned serviceman for a minute there.

Anyway whatever it is we're a bit orff.  And the weather ain't helping.  Oh, the humidity.  I think it was 99% yesterday or the day before.  I know I'm a Queenslander born and bred but I have my father's metabolism and seriously I sweat even in the middle of winter.  Dad has an excuse, he's a Belfast boy and never really acclimatised but I have no reason apart from genetics I suppose.  You know how people in the Northern Hemisphere get SAD during their long winter (Seasonal Affective Disorder)? Well I get it during our summer.  I am finding it unbearable.  And breastfeeding a sweaty little feverish baby isn't pleasant either.

Sweaty baby is sweaty.

I couldn't be bovvered cooking last night so M kindly went out and got Japanese takeaway which smelt delicious. I had a few bites AND COULDN'T EAT ANY MORE! I know.  What is going on? Maybe there is something to be said for weather so humid it saps you of your appetite.  Fingers crossed it is reflected in the ole scales!  I drank some of this with ice instead.

Good old Bickford's cord-u-gal.

This is M's preferred tipple. He was excited to find it again at Woolies.  I like it too but not as much as the lime cordial.  IS THERE NO END TO THE INTERESTING DETAILS YOU ARE LEARNING ABOUT MY LIFE!!!???

I'm going to look back at these posts one day and think "Oh cheer up you little whinging git" but oh well, better out than in, I say.

Anyway I think I almost have M convinced that air conditioning needs to happen, even if it might not be until next year in March to get a better deal. Baby steps, people.  Look, I know that back in the day no-one had it and they survived and it's bad for the environment and uses energy but I don't care I WANT IT!!!!!! WANT IT NOW!!!!  I'm supposed to embark on a jam making frenzy this week, I can't think of anything less likely to happen in this soupy weather.

Anyway I went to the shops yesterday to finish some xmas stuff and that was a blessed relief and surprisingly not too busy.  As compensation for having to sweat it out at home I purchased four new cotton sundresses.  I got them from that Crossroads place, they were dead cheap.  Of course what I really wanted was something from that nice Tree of Life shop but they were a bit more expensive, so I did what I always do and bought twenty billion cheaper crappier items that I don't like as much instead of just buying the one better quality item that I love. Dur.  Having said that they are quite nice and very cool.  Although the two on the right are a bit short. Is it just me or are ALL the dresses in the shops super short?  Does no-one have any SHAME any more?  Harlots and strumpets, everywhere I look.

I also added to the day yesterday by foolishly ringing up about a job application I was unsuccessful in, to get some "feedback".  I like my current job apart from the whole being made redundant on mat leave and getting put back on a contract, but it's a long commute and I am starting to panic about it so I'd applied for something closer to home.  The conversation with the woman was kind of like this.

Panel chair: Yes, you didn't score well on the criteria at all.
Me: Oh?
Panel chair: Yours was really very long, and you didn't use any practical examples.
Me: Oh.
Panel chair: And I remember quite clearly that your application had obviously been used for another job and you had left a whole lot of information on it from the other job, or you'd attached the wrong document or something.
Me: Oh.
Panel chair: There were lots and lots of excellent applicants who had LOTS of experience and actually ADDRESSED THE CRITERIA CORRECTLY.
Me: Oh. I see.
Panel chair: I see that you have a young baby.
Me: Yes.
Panel chair: And you were probably distracted.
Me: Probably.
Panel chair: But don't let this DISCOURAGE you!
Me: No.  Ok thank you for your time. {Hangs up, runs sobbing to bedroom and cries into pillow}.

Oh I've been such a cocky shit about this sort of thing in the past, how the mighty have fallen.  I think I just need to count my blessings and hope my brain comes back to normal in time for return to work on 7 January.

So, ever had a job application embarrassment? What's YOUR favourite cordial?  Does your body create its own tropical micro-climate wherever you go like mine does?

Hot stuff. Pants off. Logging the forest.

Gosh what a day it was yesterday. Hot as Hades. I've been alerted to the fact that some people don't like discussing (aka complaining about) the weather. It's my favourite pastime! What's one to do instead? I suppose I could read improving works, take up knitting, become a triathlete or at the very least resurrect my fleeting dalliance with jogging, but frankly none of those options give me the same warm inner glow as my current penchant for moaning about climatic developments. So I will just stick with what I know if it's all the same to you.

Nutmeg the cat escaping the heat. Her eyes are glowing in an appropriately hellish manner.

Nudie summer baby engaging in illicit tree handling.

The heat is making us all vague. Mum's staying with us for a couple of days. This morning we had this conversation.

Mum: If you're looking for your walking hat, it's in the spare room here.
Me: Really?
Mum: Yes.
Me: I don't know how it got in there.
Mum: No.
Me: Presumably I went in there while I was wearing it.
Mum: Yeah.
Me: And then took it off.
Mum: Probably.

Scintillating.

Yesterday the Fox in Flats Darecember dare was "on your head". I started off with this sort of arrangement.

But because I was headed off for an appointment with the gynaecologist, I felt it was a little inappropriate, kind of like I was trying too hard for a first date or something so I panicked and changed it for this old staple.

Sunnies atop head.  Imaginative it isn't.

Much less "Come hither you big love machine, let's dance some salsa together and drink sangria" and more "Ok buddy, we both know why I'm here. I'll just get my dacks off pronto, so we can get on with this unsavoury business and move on with our lives".

I'm going to get my body hair waxed today. I've obviously got a taste for getting strangers to manhandle my person this week. I've only ever had the ole bikini line waxed once before and afterwards I was left bleeding, trembling and weepy from the agony. Actually even just writing this makes me want to rethink it and just go with the old faithful eyebrow wax.  Although if I go through with it, the upside is that I'll probably be able to make a rug out of the resulting de-pelted fuzz.

Today the Darecember dare is to wear a brooch. I've got a variety of options...not sure what to go with.

A cornucopia of brooch-like options.  Not really. A measly collection if ever I saw one.

In the next episode - which brooch will I have chosen? Eyebrow wax or full body deforestation? Will I locate some clean underwear or be forced to go commando?
You'll have to wait with breathless anticipation for the next installment to find out.

Until then, devoted readers, I bid you good day.

Edited to add: Linking up with With Some Grace for FYBF

Cat on a hot tin apricot ball. Heat. Hotness. Humidity. Cheerful stuff.

It's so hoooottttt. It's weather like this that makes me glad we don't have ceiling fans or air conditioning. Oh, whoops, sorry, what I meant to say is that it's weather like this that ENRAGES ME BEYOND BELIEF because it reminds me that we don't have ceiling fans or air con.

In today's world of modern conveniences, whenever I tell people we don't have these things they look at me with a mixture of pity and fear. Fear, because obviously anyone who hasn't prioritized aircon when building a new house is automatically a sandwich short of a picnic and such a loonie that they probably stockpile canned food and bottled water in preparation for the apocalypse and should be avoided lest the crazy proves to be contagious.  Oh well, I guess if I can suffer through last summer whilst eleventy months pregnant and working from home in our study, which is undoubtedly the hottest room in the house with only a pedestal fan, a wet washer and a bucket of iced water to keep me cool then I can survive this summer too.

Anyway, here's some cheerful things from the last week to distract from the sound of my thighs rubbing together as I wander around the house in a sort of langurous haze. I'm beginning to regret my no booze during the week rule as I could murder a G&T right now*.

- P and I made festive apricot balls and I didn't eat the whole batch myself. I even froze some of them to be defrosted only in the event of emergency/having company, whichever comes first. I mean I ate a LOT of them but not ALL of them, which is a giant leap for me**.

We've got balls.  P's such a ballsy little thing.  We really know how to grab life by the balls.  And so forth with the innuendo.

- When P woke up this morning she heard B calling out so she went into his room and they played together for a good 5 minutes. Warmed the cockles of me heart, although that could have just been sweat dripping down my cleavage, it's hard to say.

- I ate some delicious cherries

- We had a great weekend despite witnessing some bogan biffo

Having a picnic up the hills.

She's the king of the world!

- M and I had a date at Ikea where we bought a sofa bed and a sewing table for me. So now we will finally be able to transform the spare room into a baby's room. Only took almost 10 months. And I might finally actually learn to use the sewing machine I bought over five years ago. Also, at Ikea, although I was sorely tempted, I did not, I repeat, did not eat anything at the cafe, not even a hotdog. And I didn't buy my bodyweight in Scandinavian chocolate either. Winning. Now next step is to actually assemble the furniture. That might take us another 6 months.

M aka Goldilocks trying out the sofa bed. It was juuusst right.  

A man and his chair.

- I didn't lose weight, but I didn't put any on either.

- B started crawling. Clever little tacker.

B about to speed off into the sunset.

- I hit the jackpot when I discovered that my favourite two dollar crap shop does a mean line in Christmas decorations,  so was able to jolly the house up even more, on the cheap.

Faux garland. Don't worry I won't light the candles lest the synthetic berries spontaneously combust.

Ghastly, isn't it? And yet strangely mesmerising...

Faux Christmas plants.

Faux berry arrangement and gussied up Christmas candle, to greet roaming Jehovah's Witnesses as they knock on the door.

Any nice things happen to you this week? Any tips on chafing prevention? Anyone else suspect they need to go back on the calm the fuck down pills like I do?

Oh, and today's Darecember. Scarves. Too. Freaking. Hot. Took it off immediately

*Edited to add, it is pouring rain as I finish writing. Thank the Lord.
**edited to add - I have actually, now. Eaten them all, that is. Goddammit. Bugger bum poo tit, as my ladylike mother would say. Just swear already, mum! Your seemingly tame version actually manages to sound ruder than real swears do.