If You’re Sitting Comfortably….

…I would like to tell you a story. An unlikely story, perhaps so unbelievable that you will think it a fairytale, and in a way… it is.

Once upon a time, a not-all-that-young anymore lass bought herself a couple of home style magazines with which to bide her time during a couple of lazy days at the beach. Within the pages of each of these periodicals she came across an item of great beauty & decided there & then that she would have said item, no matter what; however, our poor lass was indeed that – poor, or, at least, too cheap to shell out the $125 the magazines proclaimed the item in question would cost her, perhaps, she decided, she would just have to add the mythical treasure to her “wanted” list & move on with life for now.

The very next day, relieved of her small mischievous charge for the morning, the lass decided to pop down the street for a spot of opshopping. It was a glorious sunny Saturday morning & the lass enjoyed being able to walk to the shops in a matter of minutes, arriving happy & energised instead of crawling on all fours, gasping for water.

For some reason, a mystery to us now, just as it was to our dear lass, she noticed that a second hand junk shop she wouldn’t have thought to be open on a Saturday morning, was indeed trading. The lass generally stayed away from this shop – it rarely had anything of interest, and if it did, it was out of her price comfort zone, but, as being alone and able to peruse at leisure was a rare occasion, the lass decided to pop in – to look solely for her recent magazine holy grail. She knew that the chances of coming across this particular item were slim – but maybe she’d find something similar – and cheaper, which would do just as well.

Our lass went in. She perused. She found furniture like she already owned for $100 more than she would have ever paid for it. She found dusty things, broken things, but not a single thing that tickled her fancy, and not what she had come in for.

Her spirits sank. She had really sort of thought that she would find something, even if it wasn’t quite what she was after, or was too expensive, or broken…. but she was coming up with nothing, nada, zip…

…until. Rounding the corner to the last musty aisle, she spotted something promising. Something she had forgot the item may very well be residing in, and so was not particularly keeping an eye out for… a case… upside down… under some junk…

With her breath caught in her chest & her heart beating just that little bit faster, the lass approached. With a shaking hand she reached out – oh! The case was heavy! It wasn’t empty… she turned it over & unzipped it carefully…

Suddenly, it was as though the angels were singing & the brightest light was shining upon her – not only had she found her unlikely treasure, but it was EXACTLY the one she was after, in fabulous condition. She stood staring for a moment, then, breathing deeply, she carefully re-zipped the dusty case & took it with a nonchalant air to the counter, pointing at it listlessly & asking in a bored voice how much it might be.

“Oh. I didn’t think we had any of those…” said the lady, looking at the old case quickly “…$10?”

The lass could not part with her $10 quick enough, and floated out of the shop, happy as can be…..

Tunes for Tuesday

I thought I’d share some funny, novelty songs that I have nae heard in a looooooooooong time, one of them popped into my head for no reason yesterday & made me smile. If you’ve wee kiddies underfoot mind, headphones are the way to go, there is, as old ladies say, “some language”.

 

*sigh*

The holiday beard is gone.

It was cute while it lasted.

Auction Awesome….

Yesterday I trundled off, an hour late, to my second ever auction. Luckily for me, it was so big that I’d hardly missed anything & there was still a whole lot of auction awesome to be had….

Scoot on over to Sophie’s for some more nifty thrifty finds!

Books As A Different Kind Of Art.

(from)

Fairy Park

While I’ve was offline, we were away for a few days on a little mini-holiday & we went to a place called Fairy Park. It’s out in the middle of nowhere, it’s fifty years old & it’s AMAZING. I went once with school when I was wee & loved & never forgot it – I’ve been desperate to take Punk for ages & when it was mentioned in the little booklet of tourist attractions (despite being an hour away…) where we were staying I demanded we go the next day.

It was so great… exactly as I remembered it – which is a rare thing indeed – and Miss Punk adored it. There are mechanically animated fairytale scenes in little cottages behind glass & you push the button to hear the fairytale & see the characters move… Punk was all “Wow wow!” & “Oh Cool!” & like at Christmas, she soon realised that there was a lot of fun to be had “NEXT!”, gosh I wish I could take her to Disneyland!

The playground is one that you never see anymore – for health & litigation reasons I imagine – it seems dangerous beyond words, but that just makes it all the more fun….

My Creative Space…

…again at last!

Oh it does feel good to be participating in this meme again – yet as is my way, I’m not really doing it properly… again… sorry Kirsty… you are very patient.

Since I showed y’all my not terribly creative, messy, cluttered space yesterday, and since, unfortunately, it’s only gotten worse since then… I’m showing you The Boy’s creative space instead.

It involves paint, pickets, nails & screws turning into a rather exciting yet soooooooooo slow to materialise… PICKET FENCE!

I can’t say that I am someone that has always dreamed of a white picket fence – my dream home always included a small railway track for getting from room to room – but it’s looking pretty schmick, me thinks.

Unfortunately it is a loooooooooooong way off being finished, The Boy & his boss/helper have consistently underestimated the number of pickets needed, so right now all the painted pickets are up, more are being painted & more still are yet to be bought…

Head here for more luffly spaces, and to play along! (‘tis fun, really!)

Loft Schmoft.

*sigh*

I thought the loft, my lovely, pretty, sun drenched loft, would come together sooooooo easily. I thought it would be my retreat from the rest of house as it languished in cardboard boxes & mocked me with it’s desperate need for “things to be done”, but… oh how I was wrong!

I need to paint! I need more storage! I can’t believe I am even thinking this, let alone saying it… but… I have too much junk! Everything up here is somehow craft related though – wool I’ll never use, fabric that I can’t even see, BUTTONS, craft books, glue, paint… enough to keep a dedicated crafter busy for a year or more without bringing in any new supplies… if only I were a dedicated crafter!

I need to cull but I know I won’t, so the next best thing is going to have to be organisation… wish me luck!

I Can’t Help But Smile….

When there are such things as this funky vintage handmade hobby horse to be found in the “FREE” bin at the oppy…

…or when my cheeky kidlet decides to amuse herself & me with a round of “What’s the funniest place that Big Ted can wear his sunnies…?” (A: His bottom)

This Is Hard....

....really hard.

I'm back online. I'm moved, I'm somewhat unpacked. I should be telling you about a little holiday to the beach we went on, updating you on thrifty finds & whinging about things that need doing around here. I should be boasting about how Miss Punk is growing & learning, I should be telling you about things I'm looking forward to & all the interesting things I've discovered while I've been away from you.... but I can't.

Not yet.

Instead of all of that I am sitting here, trying to type through my tears, trying to write something that I don't want to write, something that I wish I didn't have to write.... but something I feel like I have to write, for myself - later, for Punky, for my Mum... for my Uncle Gary.

The Sunday before last I got a phone call from my Mum quite late, telling me that my Uncle had died. The circumstances were shocking, tragic, unexpected, frustrating, scary... the news left my family numb & unable to believe it. That is all I am going to write on his death - to steal a magnificent line from my cousin who delivered Gary's eulogy; "...let us remember the man & not the moment."

The Man;

To me, my Uncle Gary was always so cool - he was funny in a boyish way that meant he was always up to some sort of mischief. He rode motor bikes. He ate thirds & fourths of pudding at Christmas. He was the master of the hand-held video camera. He was super tall - like the big friendly giant when I was little - & full of life.

Later on, he was the proud prison officer & doting father, spending time camping with his young son & playing around with any new technology he could get his hands on.

My fumbling words here could never convey to you the humour & vitality of him, could never do justice to his dynamic personality or the effect he had on those around him... but I wanted to write something...

Some great stories were shared about him at his funeral - they made people laugh just as much as he always had, and I liked that. I also liked that his 'Exit Song' (the song they play as the coffin is carried out...) was the original star trek theme. It was funny & fitting - it was like he was still there with us, joking around, even if it gave me some sort of ridiculous hope through my grief that he was, that this had all been some sort of elaborate trick... I wouldn't put it past him.

Something I keep thinking of lately, something that I think of as "...so Gary..." is a home video I saw years ago. Gary & another uncle were taping themselves heading through the Kentucky Fried Chicken drive through, they ordered & were heading to the pick up window. Before they got there, Gary pulled out a $5 note, smiled at the camera & licked both sides before getting ready to hand it to the unsuspecting cashier... "Mmmmm" he sighed "Kentucky money...!"

Hope they have fried chicken up there for you mate. We love you.

Dodgey Post...

...'tis dodgey 'cause there is no picture (BOO HISS!) & very brief - pretty much the only thing not already at Le Cottage or packed up ready to go is the computer....!

Big stuff? Gone!

Woot!

We slept there last night! Cool & weird & interesting & great... I think I am in love kids, I do! Punky's room is coming together (hers always looks the best, the fastest... pfft) & I CAN see potential here, there & everywhere.

I even found a picture of the "kitchen" the boy & I had when we first moved in together - it was a stove & a sink, with no hot water... so I am at least thankful we have a couple of benches, cupboards... and hot water!

Right, things to do, boxes to move, a house to clean... (ugh).

Hopefully be back next week, if Telstra is on my side (pray for me), live from Le Cottage with pictures & whatnot.

xo

Guilty Pleasures – Television Edition

Also available in the ‘Vic’s Guilty Pleasures’ series: Movies, food, pastimes, clothes, books, music, computer games & ‘Things you shouldn’t eat with a spoon’.

Yesterday saw the return of one of my all time biggest telly guilty pleasures; Wife Swap.

What makes something a guilty pleasure? The fact that you know you shouldn’t be doing it. You know, for example, that sitting down to an episode of Wife Swap will make you a little dumber. You know that your life will neither be enriched or assisted by watching it, but damn, you’re going to do it anyway, because it’s SO BAD IT’S GOOD.

I can’t decide which version of Wife Swap I like better – the original UK version or the American version… the American version swaps much more extreme couples, but the original version was funnier – perhaps the narration? Who am I kidding, I’d watch them both, even if the house were falling down around me. I delight in the ‘to camera’ confessions of the swapped wives & the inevitable blow-up between the forced together families…. ahhh…. I’m evil (…in a sad, voyeuristic kinda way…).

My other guilty pleasure where TV is concerned is also ‘So Bad It’s Good’… I love it because I can’t believe it exists, that people like that exist, and my entire viewing period is spent yelling “What did he just say?!” or shaking my head in disbelief; Dog – The Bounty Hunter. If you want to see the rare sight of me running (I do warn you though – it’s not pretty), switch on Dog within hearing distance and I am THERE – just about my favourite part is the theme song… oh maaaaaaaaan, I die a little inside every time I hear that.

Not that I would ever admit to watching either of these outside of the relative anominity of blogland mind you, I mean, they’re called ‘Guilty Pleasures’ for a reason….

Facebook No More.

Inspired by Leonie, I gave Facebook the flick at the start of the year – only to go crawling back not long later to tell “The World” I’d got my Ps. Then I gave it the boot again… all through the rest of January, February & the start of March… yesterday I was feeling bored & logged back in. Spent about 5 minutes faffing about in there & realised I am absolutely & completely over it. I shall not be returning again any time soon.

In the 5 minutes I was there yesterday I saw waaaaaaaay too many advertisements or enticements from “friends”, countless pointless quizzes & more whinges & rants in the thinly veiled guise of a ‘status update’ to last me another few months at the very least. (So if you ARE on my friends list over there kids, I’ve not ‘de-friended’ you, one of the most awful things someone can do to you in the online era I believe, I have de-facebooked myself…!)

Maybe if I hadn’t gotten into blogging – reading copious amounts of them & “writing” (..I do use that word loosely…!) this one, I might still cling to the perceived social interaction of Facebook, but I find the parts of blogland I hang out in to have so much more depth & texture than you can really hope to find in Facebook’s shallow status updates or daily news feeds.

If you Facebook, have you ever tried to give it up? How’d you go & why did you do it? Deactivating my account again yesterday felt SO GOOD. Like there was this whole bunch of rubbish I was closing the door to – a whole bunch of mundane nonsense that I just don’t have to waste my energy on, or even read. I don’t want to offend anyone mind you – if you are on Facebook & you love it then hooray for you – I used to love it too, but I’ve moved on, happily.

Ooh La La!

Oh I got me some nifty opshopped goodies last week – MORE cases, if you can believe it, and the retro-est lot of linen you can imagine, but it’s all at Le Cottage and I, still, am not. Nope. I am still here, with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs. All boxes & little things are over there, waiting, and all furniture & big things are over here, waiting!

I don’t want to complain… ah hell, yes I do. It’s one of my favourite things! The Boy drives me C R A Z Y – everything is always “tomorrow” or “next week” or “later”. Usually it’s to do with things like putting the car in for a service, or mowing the lawn, but right now it is to do with MOVING and I kinda want it done NOW. He’s being cheap – not wanting to shell out for a removalist, so I have to wait until he has time off work & his boss can help him with the big stuff… and really, who knows when that will be?! He also has to put the fence up at Le Cottage – lest we have a rambunctious dog & several bewildered chickens rampaging downtown….

I digress. (…deep breaths…)

I do have one oppy find with me here & it’s nice. Oh yes. So nice.

“The French Chef” – Beautiful book in fantastic condition, printed in Japan but no publish date…? The illustrations are DIVINE.

It has also told me that scrambled eggs in French are actually Oeufs Brouillés, so next time I am feeling lazy & make them for dinner, I can pretend I am actually just feeling… French.

For more thrifted goodness head over to Sophie’s for Flea Market Finds (…when she get’s out of bed… oh to have gone out on a Saturday night!)

**Drum-roll Puhlease…!!**

Right you lot!

Get on over to Hello Owl right now & yell “Good Morning!”, “Congratulations!” (…for more than just winning this I might add… she’s cooking a bub or two…!), “Aaaaaaaaargh!” or anything else (…nice!) you fancy at Danielle , for she is your new leader in all things ‘My Place & Yours’!

Thank you to all that put their sweet lil’ hands up for it – I wish I could let you all have a turn! (But hey, you never know, if you bother Danielle a whole bunch, she might relent & at least crown you Theme Queen for the week!)

Have fun with it Danielle, when I am sorted I’ll definitely try to pop around & play!

SCARY!

Miss Punk & I missed our re-scheduled Gymbaroo date yesterday because I noticed a weird sound with the car on the way back from Play School on Thursday. I didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t sound right at all & I did nae want to drive to Gymbaroo (about an hour away) by myself not knowing what it was.

The Boy didn’t know either, he’s not your typical car-crazy bloke, and we’ve only had a car for a year or so….! He drove it to work & his boss couldn’t figure it out, then they took it to some tyre place at lunchtime to have it checked out.

A tyre was loose.

(from)

SUPER loose. The guy said that someone had tried to STEAL IT while we were in at the show but had probably been spooked. He said that someone he knew was in the same town last week it had happened to them.

How. Scary. Is. That?!

I’m so glad I didn’t drive it yesterday – in the rain too mind you. I can’t even imagine the kind of trouble one would get into when one of your tyres popped off while driving along the highway at 100 kms an hour.

Frikkin yikes.

If I Were A Boy…

When I was younger I used to think that boys had it SO much easier. I thought that life would be much cruisier if I were a boy – free from the drama, hassles & riding the emotional rollercoaster that being a girl & having to deal with girls, as a girl, brings with it.

Sometimes, I still think along those lines, so I thought I’d tell you a little bit about myself, if I were a boy….

If I were a boy, I would have a beard. I would wear hats. I would use a pocket watch & smoke a pipe.

I would play the guitar.

I would have tattoos & ride a skateboard….

That’s just for starters.

Pics from here.

Play School!

Today was… awesome.

Miss Punk & I headed off early to the Play School live show, then went to a great adventure playground, lunched & munched & even fit it a spot of opping before heading home.

Punk loved it. I loved it.

My Creative Space

Goddamn I suck at knitting.

Yet still I persist.

Every couple of years.

At trying to make…. “something”.

I thought this would be a portable, relaxing endeavour while we move.

I was wrong.

Kudos to Kirsty for her magnificent Creative Space hosting skills, head on over!