Thursday, 16 August 2012


Hey, I'm still alive! My blog is like a neglected puppy - no it's like a sleeping brown bear!

I've been flat out painting (which is why I have been doing hit and runs on the blogs I follow and not posting on mine) because I am going to be an exhibitionist in a week and a half!

I met an exhibitionist in the back streets of Athens once, it was very funny.

If I were an organized person I would have been painting for this event a year ago as we booked the gallery two and a half years ago (yes it's a popular venue) but no - I have been preparing for only a month...

If you're reading this and you're within cooee* on the 26th of August please come to the opening!
For people who can't come - I'm hoping to have an online exhibition on google+ when I can work out how to organize drinks and nibbles with people all over the world at the same time.

*Cooee - Aussie bush talk for 'Come Here' and if you're 'within Cooee' then that means you are close enough to hear me yell 'Cooee!')

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

MacArthur Park

You see there's this guy in love with this girl and they meet almost every day in the park for lunch. It's a nice park and people have birthday parties there with cakes and candles and all that.

I dunno if the girl's hot for the guy or not but she breaks up with him and he's like really bummed and feels like he'll never love like that again, that the ingredients that made up their relationship were just so special that it's like a cake that he made and someone left it out in the rain and it's fucked and he's lost the recipe...

I made this sculpture all about it...

I think it needs more trees.

Thursday, 14 June 2012


Skwishee over at Just a Mum? tagged me! in a game of tag - a game where you tag people but not like the tag where you can be pushed over and land in a pile of dog shit, the sort of tag where you answer strange questions with strange answers and ask other bloggers strange questions.

I am required to supply eleven random facts about myself, answer Skwishee's eleven questions and then pose eleven questions to other bloggers.

Here are 11 random facts about me...
1. I can touch my nose with my tongue.

2. When I was young I hated cooked peas and would hold them in my mouth at the end of a meal, excuse myself from the table, go out back and spit them out under the house.

3. I had a nightmare last night in which I was attracted to a short bad man.

4. I enjoy picking my nose.

5. I haven't cleaned my car for 6 months.

6. I have nice ears.

7. I had a tofu burger for dinner.

8. 25 years ago I was assailed by a 'flasher' in Greece that made me giggle.

9. I have a bat roosting above my bed.

10. I have a scented yellow rose growing in my front garden.

11. My dog is snoring as I write this.

Now to answer Skwishee's questions, some of which were quite tricky.

1. Name a book that somehow changed you. How?
'Housekeeping' by Marilynne Robinson. It made me feel it was okay to be who I am.

2. If someone were to cook you the perfect meal, what would it be?
Gado Gado.

3. Who do you want to be when you grow up?
Me, but grownup.

4. You find a wallet containing $20,000 on the ground, containing no identification. What do you do?
I'd probably give it to the police, f**k it!

5. Name one completely irrational fear that you've got.
Mine are all rational.

6. Give me three songs that you're embarrassed to admit you like.
Oh that's easy -
'MacArthur Park' by Jimmy Webb.
'Wichita Lineman' by Jimmy Webb.
'You Sexy Thing' by Hot Chocolate.
There's more if you want...

7. What is one thing you absolutely love about yourself?
Crikey this is a hard question...but... I do love that I will do stuff on my own, instead of waiting for company.

8. If you could be doing ANYTHING right now, what would it be?
Camping on my own by a mountain stream.

9. What's the best thing that happened to you this week?
The 7am Saturday morning sit at the meditation retreat I attended on the weekend.

10. If you could perfect one skill overnight, what would it be?
Damn these are hard questions Skwishee! Needlepoint - no badminton - no pianoforte.

11. Tea or coffee?

Now to tag the next players in this little game!
Your mission (should you choose to accept it) is to give eleven random facts about yourself, answer my eleven questions and then pose eleven questions to other bloggers.

I'm not good with following rules and I've lost track of who has been tagged already so...'Step right up and take a tag anybody! anybody?'

Here's my eleven questions.

1. What is your favourite piece of clothing?
2.  If you could invite anyone to dinner who would it be?
3. What would you save (one item and the family is safe) if your house was burning down?
4. What's your favourite movie?
5. What is something that annoys you about yourself?
6. Describe yourself in one word.
7. Favourite dream job?
8. What food do you detest more than anything?
9. What do you hate shopping for the most?
10. Name one regret.
11. What colour underpants do you have on?

If no one steps up to bat I will see who I can nab...


Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Japonica Walks on Water

Japonica and Gingko met in captivity, indefinite detention, deprived of food and water and with little access to sunlight. Asian roots brought them together, with Japonica being of Japanese origin and Gingko, Chinese. It was their camaraderie that kept them alive, each of them strangers in a strange land.

Love blossomed in their black cell and it was with regret that Japonica left her lover when freedom was granted her. She was released to spend her final days at an education and research facility in Coffs Harbour Australia where she succumbed to chlorosis...

Soft pink petals fall
freedom in eternity
she walks on water


Tuesday, 22 May 2012

The Dark Side of Domesticity

I'm in love. 
I didn't think I'd ever feel that amazing feeling again. 
I thought I was past it.
I can't wipe the smile off my face and my eyes light up when I think of the object of my desire.
My love is increasing with each week.

I can't get enough of my art course.
3D is like...actually better than in the Simpsons when it went all 3D, it's just frickin' fantasmagorical! 
I could fill a room with sculptures on the theme of 'Domesticity'.
Here are a couple that I've managed to bring to life from the drawings in my art diary (some of my classmates suspect I have issues)... 

This is called 'End Cycle'

'End Cycle' detail
This is called 'Soliloquy'
Soliloquy detail

Last week our teacher played host to a round of 'Master Sculptor' as we each had 40 minutes to fashion a work of art out of frozen chips. You might think 40 minutes is a long time with a pile of potato - actually it was really fun but the chips weren't keen to comply. This was my offering...

This I called 'The Potato Protest'


PS Welcome to Tracy - a real writer! from Crack you Whip a very funny illustrated blog that will crack you up!

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Dirty, Dirty, Dirty

Sorry, this post is not about what you think it is.

I've been absent from my blog for a while because my mind has been in the 3Dosphere as in my art course this term we are doing sculpture. Our first week began with half an hour's group brain storming and the class room's white board filled with words that popped into our collective heads at the mention of the word 'soap'. We then began our foray into the three dimensional, carving our inspirations from...

Yep - Soap!

For some inane reason I could only think of dirt.

Fingers get dirty and so does soap...

Censorship just had to come into it...

and one for priests who like altar boys...

The topic for our next sculpture is 'Domesticity'. I could fill a room with sculpture about that...

PS: Welcome to Andrea from Maybe it's just me and Annmarie Pipa from Momto8.


Friday, 27 April 2012

Eyes Wide Open

One should approach the chopping of onions in the same manner as one approaches divorce.
With your eyes wide open.
Shutting your lids mid-stream will leave you blind and bleeding.
It's also similar to running a marathon, keeping in mind that once you start it's go go go to the finish.
Dexterity, and a sharp knife are also helpful.

Make sure the phone is off the hook and you are not interrupted. I suggest headphones or a sign on the kitchen door that reads - 'Mummy's chopping onions', deafness is an asset here.
Assemble all necessary implements on a chopping board ie onions and sharp knife.

WARNING: Your eyes will water, you'll want to rub them, but from step3 on DON'T EVEN BLINK - 'my watery eyes have healing magic' will be your mantra. If you reeeeeally have to a quick, light flutter of the lids might get you through.

1. Assemble all necessary implements on a chopping board ie onions and sharp knife. 
2. KEEPING YOUR EYES OPEN top and tail the onions generously to remove tough and difficult to slice ends.
3. KEEPING YOUR EYES OPEN cut onion in half lengthways (north pole to south pole) and peel off the outer skin, lay each half flat on the board.
4. KEEPING YOUR EYES OPEN cut each half into 2mm slices.
5. KEEPING YOUR EYES OPEN quickly lay 3-4 semi circular rounds on top of each other and and chop quickly in an arc. Repeat until all onion is chopped.
6. Keep your eyes open as long as possible until they don't water anymore - just like divorce.

I'll leave you with a card my SOB (Significant Other Being) made for me this year for my birthday...

Grounds for Divorce?
PS - I haven't been through divorce but I separated from a live in boyfriend with whom I shared a bank account and a very nice antique hall stand...

Sunday, 22 April 2012

Saving Habits

I've heard that I can save $4000 a year if I give up smoking.
If I gave up drinking I'd save twice that again.
It makes me wish I drank and smoked so I could give them up and have an overseas holiday.
Do people with expensive habits know how lucky they are?

It's tempting to go off the deep end and develop a cocaine or heroin dependency so that I could be rich after rehab.
I know - I'm joking about a serious thing and probably shouldn't.
I think the reason I haven't developed a drug habit is because I'm high on Jesus and high on life ha! I've never wanted to be dependent on anything so much that I'd rob my mother to pay for it, which is why I have avoided water skiing - I wouldn't like to develop boat dependency.

I've tried acid, cannabis, hash, wine, spirits, liqueurs and chocolate and can imagine having a habit for each, that's all.

The nuns at my Catholic primary school encouraged the students to give up something once a week for lent. Lent lasts for 46 days, about seven weeks.

Every Monday morning I placed an order for lunch from the school canteen. I always ordered a meat pie and a packet of crisps. Just before the lunch bell (a real bell that someone had to shake up and down in the air, you know, dingalingalingaling) a metal basket would arrive and one of us hungry children would call out the names written on each lunch filled paper bag.

Every Monday for the seven weeks of lent I would put my unopened bag of crisps into the nun's poor box. I didn't care much, in fact it was probably a calculated lental giveaway proposed by my mother.
After four weeks my teacher, Sister Lillian asked me if I'd like to give up something else for lent.
I think she was sick of chips.


Wednesday, 18 April 2012

How I Met Your Mother

'The throw was wide' dad said, remembering '- and I don't know where the dog came from.'


PS Hi and welcome to The M Half of the M n J Show and to dbstevens from Kicking Corners .
PSS I did a guest post! for Tangled Lou over at periphery who is in a car somewhere with monkeys eating tootsie pops. Check out her blog, she's a very good writer.

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Oriental Fried Noodle Salad

It's a four thirty pm.
We're going to a barbeque at a friend's house at six pm.
I'm making Oriental Fried Noodle salad.
My husband and boys are doing the stuff they usually do, you know - stuff. 

I've finely chopped the cabbage and green onions and made the dressing. While the pinenuts are roasting on the stove I decide to make a tsatziki dip, feed the dog, find dvds to return to my friend and dress. Upstairs, changing my clothes, I smell the smell of things gone wrong...

I have to have pinenuts in my fried noodle salad - it's not the same without them.
It's four forty five pm.

My husband and boys are still doing the stuff they usually do, you know - stuff. 
I jump in the car and drive the ten minutes to town. I get a parking spot right outside our only supermarket.

The aisles are full of holiday makers going soooooo slooooooow and blocking my fucking way.
I want to whack them.
I want to whack them and yell crazily 'DON'T YOU KNOW I'M IN A HURRY!' and 'MY NEEDS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOURS!' with no feeling in my extremities - Pinenut madness.

All I wanted to get was pinenuts but I have a list of six fricking items.
I find five of the items on my list and go to the 'interesting ingredients that make cooking painful' aisle.


As if that's all you do with pine nuts.

Oriental Fried Noodle Salad

Make this salad for your next barbecue. Everyone will be asking you for the recipe. This salad has an interesting Chinese flavour combined with crunchy fried noodles and nuts.
Preparation time: 10 minutes minus driving time.
Serves 8
Degree of difficulty: easy if you watch the nuts brown
½ -1 Chinese Cabbage, or ¼ savoy cabbage (shredded finely)
6 Green Onion (chopped 5mm length)
100g LIGHTLY roasted slivered Almonds or Pinenuts Pinenuts Pinenuts
1 pkt Chang’s Fried Noodles 100g (Original or Onion Flavoured)
¼ cup White Vinegar
1/4 cup Castor Sugar
1 tblsp Chang’s Soy Sauce
2 tsp Chang’s sesame oil (Optional)
½ cup Olive Oil
Mix all the ingredients of the Dressing in a bowl. Stir well until sugar is dissolved. Combine the Cabbage, chopped Green Onions and Almonds Pinenuts in a salad bowl. Add dressing and mix well. Just before serving add the noodles and toss thoroughly.

PS Slivered Almonds are not even half as frickin' nice as pinenuts.


Thursday, 12 April 2012

Email to My Sister In Law

Great to read all your news. So nice to hear you're enjoying your granddaughters. I can't even let myself entertain the thought of grandchildren, worried I might jinx myself.
It's good to know you're healthy and well. I think we don't often hear of the successes with beating cancer because nobody reports good news. My friend who had bladder cancer said cancer is cells mutating through constant damage and puts her cancer down to smoking a lot when younger as it's common in women who do so.

The boys and I went on an overnight walk on Easter Saturday into a steep gorge by a river. 
We camped Saturday night by the water and were due back Sunday night but made a few bad mistakes and decisions and took the 'scenic' route out.
We ended up spending Sunday night on the side of a narrow, steep ridge with little drinking water and 700 metres above the river. In hindsight I realize we weren't in danger as we could have struggled back down the ridge to the river in the morning and retraced our steps to find the track, but being inexperienced with such a situation, we were very scared we were in real trouble. 
After a restless night, in the morning son no 2 went up the ridge and found the track - only about fifteen minutes walk away.

Although I feel quite silly about us getting into a fix in the bush since I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, I'm proud we did so well in a semi-survival situation.
When we were trying to sleep on our 45 degree leafy bed (with our feet against trees to stop us sliding downhill) I said to son no 1,
'Every day life stuff doesn't seem all that hard now'.
'Yeah,' he said, 'I'll never think a college assignment is difficult again'.

Funny though, now I'm back to normal life (with all it's crap), being stuck on a ridge in the middle of nowhere sounds good.
It's all a matter of perspective.

I hope I have a granddaughter one day, love Julie. XO

PS The view is always better from the top...

Saturday afternoon.

Monday morning.

Post Script: Hello and welcome to Taryn who is doing a Jelly good job of the A - Z challenge over at Taryn in Crazyland!


Thursday, 5 April 2012

The Answer is Blowin' in the Wind

Hello and welcome to Pish Posh and Elle!
It's always exciting to have new visitors - I hope you enjoy my blog.

On my walk this morning I encountered this little bastard beauty...

It is called a Processionary Caterpillar because besides dangling on a thread from a tree overhanging the middle of a road where people walk their dog in the morning (dodged 1 a minute today) they also do this...

ie walk along with their face in each others arse.

If one of them doesn't feel the face of the one behind it in it's arse it stops and waits until the slow poke catches up. Aren't they clever? It must be a big responsibility to be the one at the very front.

I don't care much - if they want to live their life like that then fine, but every hair on them is an irritant to the skin that leaves an itchy welt lasting up to days. The hairs on both the caterpillar and the moth it pupates into fly away in the breeze and can cause asthma when inhaled. One year, before we moved here, the locals had a plague of them. They put their bed legs in tins of kerosene to get a good night's sleep.

Why the fuck are they here?

They walk around doing their stuff like they have a purpose - as if their life has meaning. I envy them their conviction.

Sometimes it helps to think about these hairy caterpillars when I ponder the meaning of life and the reason for my existence...

It's freeing to think there might not be one at all.



A couple of months ago I advertised for a guinea pig friend to come and live with our Gouda. She knew she was coming to a home that was committed to the freedom of piggies and that she would free range - because I told her so. She was with us three weeks before something got her in the night. Being a white piggy she would have been easily seen in the dark and now I realize I should have coloured her hair for camouflage.

Last week I bought another piggy to keep Gouda company, a younger piggy, but she's keen to learn from her elders. She is a caramel colour and because she came into our lives close to Easter I'm calling her Cheeses.

All our piggies have been called after some sort of fromage. First we had Coon, then Colby (both boys). Gouda was next and the white one came with a name already (something silly that wasn't a cheese), so she was doomed from the start.

Cheeses is a good name because if Cheeses disappears tomorrow (Good Friday) I know she'll be back on Sunday.


Monday, 26 March 2012

Taking the Piss

I can pee anywhere anytime. I don't get stage fright and I've almost never been caught.

When I was a gadabout teen on pub crawls with my friends, I would duck up an alley and leave a wet patch without breaking my stride or falling behind my girl fellows.
On an eight hour drive to Sydney I stopped three times by the side of the highway without a second thought and nary a car came to shine it's light on my naked behind.

My motto has always been 'he who hesitates to pee is caught'.
But once... I was caught so badly that it made up for all the other times...

It was a beautiful day for a picnic in the countryside by the river. Lots of other people thought so too and by the afternoon the toilet cans were full to over flowing.
Being the bush babe I am, going behind a tree is always more attractive than a stinky bog so I left the picnic to stroll to the only cover for miles around - a shady clump of greenery forty meters uphill from the sausages, coleslaw and crowds.

I've always wanted to draw a map for a story - a map with a key and all and since I will probably never write an epic novel that requires one I'm taking this opportunity to fulfill a fantasy.  I've put together the following illustration so that you can a better perspective on this tale.

After I trudged to the top of the mound I ducked behind a large utility truck. I pulled down my shorts and undies and squatted. I started to pee and the very next second this is what I saw...

The men must have used great stealth and speed to climb that hill, there was no one there a minute ago.

I didn't have enough time to pull up my pants and so did the only thing I could do with such short notice. I sat down in the long grass on my bare bum, pulled my shirt down to cover my thighs and leaned forward with my chin resting on my hand in a nonchalant 'I'm just sitting here checking out your back tyre' kind of way (yes I was that close to it).

The legs walked round the back of the car and the men who owned them took a step back in surprise. I smiled and nodded in a matey 'I've got this covered' kind of way. They looked at me and then at each other  with bemusement. One concentrated very hard on putting stuff in the tray at the back of the Ute, then he got in the passenger's side. The driver opened his door, got in, started the engine and drove away leaving me to face the picnickers below.

I could have been run over and the morning papers would have read...


Instead the headline was...

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

A Mother of Sons

In it's short career my womb has grown two babies. Each time before conception, the boy sperm (better sprinters) rose early and erected signs outside my cervix in order to confound and distract the girl sperm and so give the boy sperm the upper hand.

I recently swapped posts for 'Leap Blog Day' with Skwishee from 'Just a Mum' (with a U). In my guest post I imagined I spent the day playing with her little girls.
I suggested a very attractive sum of money in exchange for her daughters (one daughter would do) but she hasn't responded. Maybe she thinks I'm kidding.

Don't get me wrong - I do like boys.
They aren't bitchy - they have their say and then get over it (I remember not speaking to my father for a week after a row that he'd forgotten the next day). I've had to learn to drop things - plates, cups and issues.

They like to do really cool stuff like climbing, camping and sand boarding. I've so enjoyed doing boy stuff with them...

It's kept me fit and strong and young...ish.

In the past I have considered that my womb could have been fem free because the god/s are punishing me for a travesty I committed in my youth. I'm being denied the pleasure of braiding, teaching the front to back wipe and how to insert a tampon because I stole a road sign at eleven, shoplifted at thirteen, lied about my age to drink in hotels with my big sister at fourteen and started a long and illustrious career in wagging mass at fifteen.
I console myself with thoughts that I repeat to those who look at me with pity when I answer their question of offspring...
'Yep - two boys, but that's okay - goodness! I really wouldn't know what to do with a girl if one was offered me!'

Although I sometimes feel like...

a bottle of detergent in a sea of sausage

I'm glad now because boys suit me and I kind of enjoy being a rare thing in my house. They might try to put me in the dumb blonde corner sometimes but I mostly have the feeling that my opinion matters to these males who need us females even though they don't like to admit it, but I still wonder sometimes what my girl child would have been like had I spawned one...

I see myself and my mini me shopping (yuck!) for girl stuff (whatever that is) on a Saturday morning and stopping for coffee and fat free cake (yuck) at Glorious Beans. We'd titter and bitch about the waitress whilst browsing Vogue and Girlfriend (yuck).

But in reality we'd probably hate each other.
When she's little she'd like frilly pink dresses (blah) that no self respecting tree climber would put on their muscular toned body.
As a teenager she'd be out an out there, strong, and sexy young woman who thinks her mother should be covered in a black sheet in the corner of the lounge room or stuffed in a rag bag at an opportunity shop.
She'd be pretty and check her reflection in every passing window and hate the things I love - bush walking, camping and art.

She would be my nemesis.

That's me - on the right.


Monday, 19 March 2012


Welcome to the funny cartoon type bloggers, multi personalitied funny Susan from Super Earthling, the clever Ellen (help send her into space) from Defenestrated Feet, and to the sensitive and talented writer Gweenbrick who has come to find out how old I am and has three guesses at my age. If he guesses to within a year of the right age he wins this beautiful pink edged sailing ship antique place mat which could be older than me.

Welcome also to Nina with whom I have shared many artistic posts on google+.

I'm always surprised, excited and humbled (in that order) when I have a new guest. I wonder what you've read to make you want to come back and hope you won't be disappointed.

Autumn is in the air here in Oz. It's been quiet here lately. My typing fingers have been avoiding my brain and I've even taken to re-reading old posts...reminiscing about my early days as a new blogger - last November - when I first went Into the Wild.


Friday, 9 March 2012

Where Have I Been?

Welcome to the talented writer TangledLou from Periphery.
Lovely Lilly at The Incoherent Ramblings Of A Moose was wondering where I've been...

I have four blogs in my reading list that seem to have died not long after I started following them. I don't take this personally, I don't think I killed them...well I hope not. I understand how passions run into and out of our lives, which is why I haven't done anything for long enough to become expert at it.
I haven't been writing much lately, I like to make a post a work of art and some hesitation has slowed me but don't worry, my blog is not dying. I love all the people I've met here in blogland and wish I could hug you guys for real but here's a poor substitute  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (for my followers and a few extra hugs for lurkers).

Apart from posting some art on google+, I've been exploring new mediums in an art course at college one day a week.
At the moment the subject is printmaking, which I thought at first might not be interesting but it is wonderful! Our teacher, Sara Bowen is very talented and a nice woman to spend a day playing with, because that's what we have been doing. First we did stamping.

We stamped using ready made stamps...

We stamped using found stuff like mesh bags and the soles of children's sandals...

We made rubber stamps cut out of erasers (I made a brick and a little man with a briefcase) and we stamped some more...

I kinda got immersed in the rush hour theme and a dozen prints and hundreds of stamps later...

I haven't got anything funny to say in this post. Oh except that on the first day I made an ass of myself and accidentally broke my teacher's artwork.


Friday, 2 March 2012

Where is my mother?

During Leap Blog Day - which was a marvelous idea put together at We Band of Mothers I came across the blog Periphery  and the following challenge.

It's called the "Ten Minute Spill" and is suggested by Rita Dove - she was a US Poet Laureate and has assorted hardware to her credit, so I think she might know a thing or two about writing.
Here's the gist of it:
Write ten lines in ten minutes- she suggests poetry, but I think it would work for lyrical prose, too.
These ten lines must include the following:
- A proverb, adage, or familiar phrase that you have changed in some way.
- Five of the following words:

cliff           blackberry
needle           cloud
voice                 mother
whir           lick
I took the challenge and funnily enough (because I didn't read the instructions) I followed the exercise almost to the letter without even realizing it. (used all eight words, familiar phrase? - sorta).
This is what I came up with, a little sad but I'm happy with it.

Where is my mother?

In a whir of memories of
hospital, needles and tubes.

I can't hear her voice,
or smell her spit on my hair
to hold down a cow lick.

Now, high in a cloud, on a cliff,
overlooking my own downhill
fall into the blackberry...

Where is my mother?

And a drawing of her from a photo on New Year's Eve age about 40.


My Rapunzel

Rapunzel was my favourite fairy tale. It's strangely ironic that little girls who are read this tale are much too young to ogle princes and so I can only attribute it's popularity, with me anyway, to the hair thing and the tower thing - which is what I loved most about it. This is my version...

Rapunzel's mother, the Queen, was off sausage whilst pregnant with her and fell in love with the lesbian rocket scientist who lived below the castle (the Queen didn't want to ravage her rapier - she wanted to browse her broccoli) he he - yeah I know - sorry.
In those dark times lesbians were given a pointy hat and burned as witches at the stake - which put us years behind in technological advancement as great creative ideas went up in smoke.

The two women had a nine month affair after which the Queen went back to sausage and the other woman, scorned, stole away the Queen's newborn child, Rapunzel (who should have been called Broccolini).

Rapunzel was locked in a high tower with only the following textbooks - 'Introduction to Rocket Science and Engineering', 'Rocket Propulsion Elements', 'Fundamentals of Astrodynamics' and 'Aeronautical Engineering' for company.
While other children were watching the first episodes of the 'Simpsons' and 'All American Dad' (the shows are that old), Rapunzel was reading about lift, drag and internal combustion engines and developed an incredibly powerful fuel with a base of hair, spider web and condensed urine.

On Rapunzel's sixteenth birthday she completed construction of a jet engine and escaped marriage to royalty, with years of diplomatic child bearing and assassination attempts, by taking off to worlds hitherto unknown.

The moral of the story?

Never underestimate the power of knowledge.


Thursday, 1 March 2012

Another one!

I got another award from the lovely Lilly at The Incoherent Ramblings of a Moose - she has a very funny/thoughtful/creative (pretty much an all rounder actually) blog and is a nice woman who I would love to ask to dinner sometime if she's ever in the area...thank you Lilly!

It's pretty isn't it? It comes with rules that are meant to be broken but I'll try not to.

I like pink and green.
My bedspread has pink and green on it.
I inherited a dinner service from my mum that is pink and green.
It was 38 degrees in our upstairs bedroom today.
My 16yr old son went to school for the first time this year.
I started school when I was four.
We have a composting toilet.
I prefer raspberry flavour to strawberry. 
My toe nails need clipping.
I like random factorizing.

10 Random facts are much more interesting when people don't expect them.

I'm passing this award on to the following 6 bloggers...

Skwishee at Just a Mom a mum with creative talent, patience and girls!
Amy at the artistic, warm and beautiful This House Gets Crazy at Three O'clock
Where Have all the Hobos Gone? creative, funny and cute.
J. Rose at I'd like cheese on my entire family - incredible cartoons and funny stuff and then check out her art blog the art of J.Rose .
and lastly a blog that was one of the first I followed and that followed me - esbboston at  My worlds my words my worries - think maths crossed with thoughtfulness.
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