Startin' the New Year off in a Scrappy kind of way

It's New Years day here and the day is startin' off just fine.

The blue sky from early this morning has turned to a mucky shade of gray and the rain's just starting... so I'm praying that it's a good omen for the New Year!

We could sure use the rain here in this part of Oz (well most parts, actually) and I would gladly forgo summer entirely, if we could just get these dams and reservoirs around here topped up with water! Here's hopin' that the year starts out, and continues with what we all need, no matter where we may live !! I'm getting sick and tired of taking 4 minute showers and if it gets much worse, we'll be cut down to only having a shower every 2nd day - and that doesn't even bear thinking about.



Now, I was doing what I usually do every morning - sitting down with a nice fresh hot cup of coffee and reading through my favorite blogs, when I came across this Scrap Award from Gizzards and Calf Fries. (check her out, I know you'll thank me!) which she has ermmmm...kindly passed on to all her followers... and I'm happy to say that I'm one of 'em! So, I've been "Scrapped"



What I'm supposed to do ( and so are YOU... so if you think you're getting off easily, think again!) is list 10 tidbits about myself that you may not know. Sounds easy, right? Well, think again... again ! (See? I'm making you think twice about reading this darn blog of mine in the first place. I'll do it one way or the other!)


Either I'm going senile and can't remember sh** anymore, or I'm just so darned boring that I have nothing worth telling... but I'm gonna give it a go and see what happens.

Just don't hold it against me if you fall asleep with your face smooshed against the computer screen, okay?

1. I was in love with John Walton. You know the one - the father from "The Waltons". Not John-Boy, because every time I saw John-Boys' face, I just wanted to scratch that darn nasty arse, melanomic looking mole right off his face with my fingernail - and tell him to grow some cajones. You want to be treated like a man John-Boy? start acting like one. No wonder that no girls wanted to kiss you much. But John? Daddy John? I simply loved that twinkle in his eye, that cheeky grin and the strong yet loving way he treated all his children. He also had a cute butt. But I lost that "loving feeling" as I grew older - because he grew older. Yes, I guess I'm fickle.

2. I have never been in an actual fight, but I did throw a tub of margarine at someone once, in a fit of pique. I'm not telling who though... mainly because if I do and someone asks him about it, he will carry on and on and on like I did something bad. Sheeeesh, it barely grazed his ear, but he'll make it sound like he was hit with a brick at 2 paces. For goodness sakes... I'm a girl, and I couldn't hit the side of a barn if I was standing right in front of it. The margarine was still usable afterwards, is all I'm saying on that little matter.

3. I love cats. I have 5 of them - 4 grown girls and one boy kitten, plus I'm currently boarding another girl kitten for a friend. A friend who may never get another rental and her current landlord won't allow her to have a pet. So I've got 6, if you count them all. And I love them to pieces. But if you ever think of making me one of those funny kitty-litter cakes, do NOT do it. I will *urp*. I swear I will.

4. I've never had a ticket of any kind in my life. That was one of the advantages of living in a small town in a small county - and being married to a California Highway Patrol officer. The two tickets I probably should have gotten, were not actually given to me... because of who I was married to. Knowing my husband, I think they felt sorry for me.

5. I'm a Quaker... a Birthright Quaker, though they don't use that term much anymore. My family have been Quakers since The Society of Friends was first started. Going right back to the 17th century. My great-great-great (+ a few more greats) grandparents were long-time friends of William Penn, and helped to found one of the first Quaker Meeting houses on Ridley Creek in Bucks county Pennsylvania - before William Penn was even granted the Province of Pennsylvania. It's in my blood... and in my heart.

6. I have a short attention span. Either that, or I'm incredibly lazy - one or the other. Because 6 out of "10 things you didn't know about me" is my limit. I've run out of "things". The well is dry, my brain is fried, the tank is empty and my bucket has a hole in it. I'm done.

Now it's your turn. Every single one of you lucky people who follow my blog, have now been tagged. Copy the award, post it on your own blog and tell me and everyone else 10 things that we didn't know about you. Let me know when you've posted it, so I can come over and check it out. I check your blogs out daily anyway, but I'm just sayin...

Just in case you're thinkin' about chickening out, I've written all your names down, so there's no point in clicking that "stop following this blog" button. Do NOT do it.

C'mon, it'll be fun... And there is no booby prize, if your well runs dry too.

Update Update Update...

As Sherri, who is one of my trusted (yeah...trusted to blab) almost- family members, has so kindly reminded me, I have another "little known fact" to add to my list. It wasn't that I was tryin' to hide anything, because my life is an open book... but rather that I had a bit of a menopause moment. Yeah... "That's the ticket". I had a menopause moment. (name the man that played that character - I dare ya.) Either it was a menopause moment, or it was self-induced amnesia. You choose.

7. Yes...It's true. I was a groupie. I was young, I was free and as a good Quaker girl in the years of Haight Ashbury, I got a wild hair up my yahootie and took up with the band. The Y part of CSN&Y to be exact. I dated Neil Young's sound engineer for almost a year and even had a teensy tinesy photo on the album cover for the soundtrack of Neil's 1972 film, "Journey Through The Past"... as a hippie chick. Which virtually meant, I got to look like myself. No makeup or hair stylist was used for the photo shoot and I didn't even have to take any acting lessons. As that music great, Buck Owens so eloquently said : "And all I had to do was act naturally". If... after I get even with Sherri for even bringing this up again and I'm in a fairly good mood, I might post some photos of me looking errmmm, "under the weather". "Under the weather" being a euphemism for illegally self-medicated. Which is another euphemism, but I'm sure that you can figure it out.

After that last revelation, I now just want to crawl under a rock. (Thank you again, Sherri. I think you need to take something for that recurring cough.)

Happy New Year !

Happy New Year, everyone !

Well, it took some doing, but I managed to assemble everything I want to cook for dinner on New Years day - which here in Australia, is tommorrow!
Finding the black-eyed peas and collards took some doing, but I finally found them at USA Foods in Melbourne.
With postage and all, they cost me nearly an arm and a leg, but I got 'em, so we will be eating good tommorrow!
I was brought up with the old traditions and the saying :

"Eat poor on New Year's - eat rich the rest of the year."

So, we'll be having what I've always had on New Years day - at least when I could get it :
Pineapple glazed Ham
Hoppin' John (rice, bacon and black-eyed peas)
Collards
and Cornbread
"Ham or bacon for looking forward, (hogs can't look backwards)
plus Peas for Pennies, Greens for Dollars, and Cornbread for Gold.”
And we always put a penny or coin under the plate to intensify the luckiness of the meal.

In case anyone doesn’t know, Hoppin' John is made of black-eyed peas cooked with bacon, with cooked rice added, and if you have any pot liquor leftover from the black eyed peas, to sop the cornbread in... all the better! Mmm mmmm good!
Everyone who eats Hoppin' John on New Years Day is almost guaranteed to have good luck... especially wealth, during the new year.


My "New Year's Wish" for all of us :

Perhaps a bit wiser,
a bit kinder, too,
a little bit braver,
a heart that's more true,
a touch of believing
I've not known before,
in joys I'm receiving
a little bit more.

A little more anxious
to reach out my hand,
despite hurt or problems
to still understand,
accepting the heartache
that life often brings,
a little more beauty
in life's simple things.

A prayer when I'm weary
as onward I trod,
a little more trusting,
believing in God,'
tis this I would wish for
within moments dear,
not a lot - just a little
this wondrous new year.
~ Garnett Ann Schultz ~

Where is the friendship?

I have no friends.

It's sad, but true.
You see... to me, a friend is someone who will tell you what you need to hear and not necessarily what you want to hear. They tell it like it is. Always. Because true friendship means being honest. A friend is someone you can always trust to have your back.
They will tell you that the dreamy guy you just met is trouble... Trouble with a capital T.
They tell you when your pants are too tight or too short or that that shade of lipstick makes you look like Morticia Adams on an extremely bad day.
They tell you it's time to get those eyebrows waxed again - because if you don't, the local Lepidopterologists are gonna come calling, having sniffed out some new species of caterpillar, growing right there on your face. (which reminds me... did you know that scientists have now proven that moths and butterflies can remember things from their caterpillar days? Amazing... but true. And totally useless unless you're a trivia freak. Or a Lepidopterologist)

Anyway... friends are people who will tell you the truth - no matter what - Isn't that right?

Now let me back up a bit and fill you in on some background here. Miz K (of the Mexican dinner / talking to grownups, post) was here this afternoon and we had a nice little 2-3 hour visit. Talking about this... talking about that... and eating some fish and chips and a corn-dog.
( I had the corn dog, which here in Oz, is actually called a Pluto Pup and tastes nothing like a real honest to goodness corn-dog, because there is no cornmeal in the darn thing and the dog is more of a skinny red sausage than a hot dog... but it's about the closest approximation to a corn-dog that you can get in this country. It tastes like sh**, but at least it's corn-dog shaped and you can dip it in mustard....and that counts for a lot when you're feeling nostalgic.)

Anyhow, Miz K and I sat across the table from each other - in broad , sunny daylight - and nattered and nibbled for hours... and it was lovely. It always is when Miz K is around. We smiled, we laughed, we talked about a whole range of things. And then she left.

It's one of those beautiful cool-ish, but the sunlight is golden, days and when I walked in the bathroom to put some towels away after Miz K left, I just happened to notice how the soft golden light was streaming through the bathroom windows and everything was softly illuminated in the wall mirror in there. So of course, I stopped to look at myself. Like you do. I hadn't looked at myself since this morning when I brushed my teeth, and most mornings, I do that in the almost dark, so keep from wasting electricity. So seeing myself clearly was kind of a nice surprise.
But this afternoon...because the light was so very clear, I noticed something about myself that I had never noticed before. And something that I almost wish I had never noticed, but thank goodness I did... in spite of the potential for future nightmares.

See, because the people that I had considered friends had never seen fit to mention this particular sight to me and were in fact, probably all huddled together at that exact moment, having a good old laugh at my expense - I was forced to come across this when I was all alone and at my most vulnerable. After eating a corn-dog and having a happy day..

You see, that clear light in the mirror showed a tiny little flaw on my neck. Something I had never thought I would see, unless my dear old Auntie Lou would somehow, miraculously, come back to life.
With her magnifying mirror in one hand and her Curex tweezers in the other.
I looked at this flaw on my neck and was totally gobsmacked, because I looked like a cross between my dear old Auntie Lou, and an aging Shirley Temple.

There... right there... on the right side of my neck, was a hair. A neck hair. And not just any old neck hair, but a hair about 4 inches long and curled like a Shirley Temple ringlet. A coil... a spring... a shortened, less colorful, almost grey version of my favorite childhood toy. A Slinky.

On
My
Neck !

You could tie a bow on this sucker.

I have been walking around for how long, with this coiled, springy, slinky-like"thing" sticking out of my neck, and NO one - especially my most beloved and trusted friends - has ever said a word?
It's not as if they couldn't see it. They must have known... and chosen to keep me in the dark.
So I ask you... wouldn't a real friend tell you something like this?

I should have asked for, or received some tweezers for Christmas... Because the people I have always considered to be my friends, knew that I needed them ... and they never said a word to me about it.
So do you want to know what I did? I didn't have any tweezers, but I still had that corn-dog stick. And I have to tell you, it worked like a charm... after I wound that hair about 27 times.
And yanked.

Nah... I would forgive Miz K just about anything.
And she probably never noticed a thing, because the light just wasn't right. :o)

Can you help? Oh please say yes!

I've been trying to work up a letter/ agreement / notice / thingamabobbie thingie to give to all my daycare parents... and I'm having a really hard time with it.

I think I'm cramming too much into it and making it too confusing, but try as I might, I can't seem to get it pared down or even worded right. It's giving me a major headache!

So...is anyone willing to give me a hand with re-wording and/or editing it? I need totally honest opinions, and someone else's in-put.... Because I'm a total lame-brain after working at this all day long -and my head is spinning in circles right now. Kind of like Linda Blair in that Exorcist movie. Minus the pea soup.

So any help that you can - or will - give me, would be hugely, humongously appreciated !!!

I'm just about at my wits end with 3 parents in particular, and enough is enough !!

I just want to start 2009 off right and I want them to KNOW that I'm not gonna take it anymore!

You think KC and the Sunshine Band is bad?

Well, guess who was dumb enough to teach the kids " The Name Game" song?
Yep, yours truly.... and I seriously, seriously regret it.

All I've heard all morning is " Tater, we can we sing the "banana-fana" song?"

Jack, Jack, bo-back,
Banana-fana fo-fack
Fee-fi-fo-mack
Jaaaack!

Tater Tater, bo-bater
Banana-fana fo-fater
Fee-fi-fo-mater
Taaaater

Hey, At least I don't have any children named Alice, Tucker, Chuck, Buck, Huck, Bart, Art, Mitch, Rich or Richie.... or I don't know how I would explain it to the parents. *snort*

C'mon... tell me that you remember the song !

A gem of a day !

I'm pleased to say that I got a heck of a lot of stuff accomplished today and I'm almost ready for a lovely and well-deserved nana-nap ! Woo Hooo!
(That old KC and The Sunshine Band song keeps runnin' through my head :
Do a little dance,
make a little love
Get down tonight,
get down tonight.
....Which actually sounds better in my head, and a lot more apt IN my head than actually seeing it in print there.
Forgive me, for I am stupid. And I'm running in "exhaustion mode" right now.)

I got a lot (well... some) weeding done out the back and I even managed to get the climbing rose turned back into more of a "climbing" rose and not the "I will grab you, impale you, claw the sh** out of you and will make your life a misery if you dare walk past me" rose, that it had turned into in the last few weeks. The flowers were beautiful though and it's a pity that they had to go, as well as the brambly bits.
Thanks to days of rain and then days of sunshine... everything out there is going absolutely bonkers... and although it's looking good, with everything all beautifully lush and fragrant, it's a major PITA to keep it looking semi-tidy. I just wish the grass grew one half as well as the weeds do.
Even the Mulberry tree is doin' it's best to give me baby mulberries! (note to self and anyone else stupid enough to try this: do NOT eat unripe mulberries. They will leave a nasty arse taste in your mouth and the "pucker" won't leave you for hours. Ditto for baby limes.)

I even managed to print out some "Business Hours" signs ( I did several, because my hours vary with school holidays, (aka school vacations) what mood I may be in, etc.) and they look good, if I do say so myself. :o)
I checked online, and the simple ones like I wanted, were priced at $13.95 and up, so I figured I could make something - at least temporarily, until I could find cheaper prices. I want MUCH

cheaper prices !
But they turned out so darned good, that I just printed off a heap of them and put them in the folder, so I can change them or alternate them as needed.

No more "Mr. Nice Guy" anymore... especially when it

comes to taking advantage of this little brown duck!

(kind of a small photo, but you get the gist)

The house is cleaned, floors mopped and vacuumed and the kitchen is almost looking semi-presentable. Maybe not "Gordon Ramsey is coming to dinner" presentable, but it's not too bad anyway and I'm happy with it. Mostly.
The driveway and front porch are swept, the front porch bench has been given a coat of stain, the porch plants fed and watered and the shower has had a good scrub-down.

Geez... I'm on a roll today! See what a couple of stress-free days can do for ya?

Sing it with me...

Do a little dance,
make a little love
Get down tonight,
get down tonight !!

Reflections and Resolutions

I don't know if it's just the aftermath of Christmas and that everything has slowed down a bit, or it's the fact that I've had several much-needed days off in a row... but I'm feeling peaceful.
Thankful.
Inspired and connected.
Stronger and more determined.

I've been thinking about my New Year's resolution for this year and rather than focusing on outward "things" like I do most years... this year, I'm going to try and focus more internally.
Yep, I know I need to lose weight. I know I need to get more exercise. I need to eat healthier. I need to get so many things in order. But just saying that, doesn't get it done... or give me the incentive to do what needs doing.

I always put everyone first - and myself last. I'm a giver... that's just what I do.
Having trouble? I'm the first to call and offer support.
Need a listening ear? Call me up and I'll be there.
Are you lonely, upset or at your wits end? Drop on by. The kettle is always on and I've got broad shoulders.
Need milk or you're going to be running late? Sure... leave the kids here.

Now see, I like that about myself. I really do. I like that I don't have to work at it or force it, because it just comes naturally. My mom used to complain when I was young that I was "the champion of the underdog"... and that I gave too much. I gave too freely and without always looking to see what the repercussions would be.

I still do that.

Oh, I may be a little fussier nowadays, when it comes to dragging home angst-filled teenage boyfriends and every sad-eyed looking puppy on the street, but I still get friends - or friends of friends - or parents of my little charges - asking for help, or just needing someone to talk to.
And I find it hard to say no.
And I don't want to stop that entirely.
I really don't.

But I do need to start thinking of myself and putting myself - and not only with just my life, but with my life with my guy - first.
Without my batteries being fully charged or re-charged, I have no juice left in me to share with anyone else.
What I could do with ease in my younger years, is becoming harder to do as I get older... and I end up feeling more and more drained and resentful.
I need balance, and I need to start working on getting that balance, so the buck officially stops here.

So here's my New Years resolution.
I'm going to get one of those business clocks. You know, the one with the open and closed hours on it ? And it will be stuck on the wall just outside the front door.
Monday... 9-5 Tuesday... 9-4:30 Well, you know what I mean.
From now on, when my work day "officially" starts at 9 am (or 7:45 or whatever is scheduled), any parent who shows up 25 minutes early, can just plant their butt on the bench on the front porch, and wait until 9 o'clock or 7:45. That extra 25 minutes is ME time and no one is gonna get away with it anymore. That door - and this business - will remain closed until it's time to open for the day.

See, I get up at 5am most mornings. I check through my favorite blogs first thing, while I'm having my first cup of coffee for the day and then I get my cute little bum in gear. I jump in the shower and get ready for the day... and then there's vacuuming and mopping and tidying of the playroom to be done... and I usually have just about 30 minutes at the end of those chores, to simply sit down and relax for a bit. That's 30 minutes of me time. But do I get it?
No.
Invariably, I always have a parent show up early, since they need to get to the store/ to work/ to school early... and it's just easy for them, because I'm on the way. It's convenient for them. Or they want to run to the store on their way home from work, so they'll be 15 minutes late.
Do I do it? Yes.
Do I mind? Yes, again.
Is it convenient for me? No.
Will I continue to do it? NO I won't.

And friends who think that just because I work from home, and think that I have some kind of glorified life where I get to sit on my arse all day and get paid for it... well, they need to find someone else to visit with.
And they need to think again.

Hey, y'all are welcome, but you need to help with the craft work or washing hands and faces, doing the dishes, playing with the kids, wiping noses, changing bums or whatever it is I need to do. Because this is my JOB and it's what earns me my living and pays the bills.

Do NOT expect me to drop everything and listen to your troubles, when I'm busy working. Would I go visit you at the bank/grocery/store insurance office or where ever it is that you work... and ask you to drop everything make me a cup of coffee during your working hours, or turn a blind eye to your clients so that you can listen to my tales of woe?
No... of course I wouldn't.
So why do I let them do it to me?
Because I'm nice.
Too nice.
Now, there's nothing wrong with being nice... but from now on, my being available to every Tom Dick and Harry is gonna stop and it's going to be on my terms from now on.

I want to start walking again. Not just for my health, (although I know I need to do it for that reason as well) but simply because walking for half an hour at the end of the day, well... it gives me a chance to unwind and reflect on things. It recharges my batteries. It gives me a bit of a breather, and gives me the energy to do what needs to be done at the end of the day.

But in order to do that, I need to have a firm finish to my day. When a parent books until 5, that means 5... NOT 5:30, simply because they need a liter of milk and it's easier for them to go to the store, when they don't have their children with them.
From now on, it's gonna be : "honey, you had 'em, YOU deal with 'em now".
When I'm done for the day... I'm done for the day. It's closing time...the doctor ain't in... my shoulders and listening ears are off duty... and I want - and need - to focus 100% on myself , my guy and our needs now.

The diet and the exercise resolution? Yes, those need to be done and I do plan on doing them, but I need to have balance in my life first and foremost. So that I have the energy to focus on them and to focus on myself, my guy... and God from whom all blessings flow...

Boxing Day

Umm... What do you say to people on Boxing day? Happy Boxing day? Boxing Day Blessings?
Here's Yer Box, you lower class person, you?

I don't fully understand the reasoning and/or meaning behind Boxing Day, (other than it's a public holiday... and I have no problems with that at all) so I went merrily a-googling, and found this:

What is Boxing Day?
Boxing Day is a day the higher classes gave gifts to the lower classes. Before or on December 25th people of similar class would exchange gifts to celebrate the Christmas season. Gifts were not exchanged with the lower class (which includes household servants and service personnel) until the next day... called Boxing Day. It is also known as St. Stephen’s Day.

Why is the holiday named Boxing Day?
The holiday is named Boxing Day because the tradition of giving gifts of cash, food, clothing and other goods to the less fortunate, and were placed into boxes for easier transportation. The goods were distributed based on the family needs and their services to the giver.

Who celebrates Boxing Day?
Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Britain, and other Commonwealth Countries celebrate Boxing Day on December 26th.

In Australia and Canada, Boxing Day is now primarily known as a shopping holiday, and a time where stores have sales, often with dramatic price decreases. For many merchants, it has become the day of the year with the greatest revenue. In recent years, this has been expanded to "Boxing Week". While Boxing Day is actually on 26 December, many retailers who hold Boxing Day Sales will run the sales for several days before or after 26 December, often up to New Year's Eve.

See? That's what I love about this country.
It has a legal public holiday set aside as a shopping day!

And I don't know about you, but when I receive gifts of money, it's usually in the form of a few bills or even a check - and it's always in a small envelope. I have never received a box full of money... although it sure would come in handy for all those Boxing Day sales, wouldn't it?

Whatever the meaning behind it, or whether you celebrate the day or not.... May your day be blessed!