the end was just the beginning
I'm not an all-organic, sugar-free food nazi. My kids eat junk. They have hot chips occasionally. They have lemonade at yum cha (sometimes it's even pink). I make muffins and biscuits for their morning tea. They ate donuts at the school disco last night. But there's something I'll never understand - why kids' sporting events have shops selling soft drinks, chips, pies... Continue Reading →
I tried to do my Easter shopping yesterday. The selection sucked. Big time. No wonder retail is in the toilet. It's only 44 days until the Bunny comes, focus people! Obsessive nutters - I mean highly organised people like me - need to be prepared. (I'm doing Sprog 2's birthday goody bags today, only 22 days to party... Continue Reading →
A friend who lives in Mumbai came to lunch today. She kept saying how nice it was to breathe fresh air and not have people pooing in the streets. She brought gorgeous inlaid timber pencil containers for the Sprogs. Heaven knows how she got them through customs. I served Chermoula Barramundi for lunch, with mini... Continue Reading →
I was in the attic on Monday night, searching for the photo of me with Stripper Santa. I got really freaked out. My panic initially revolved around where the effing hell the Stripper Santa photo had gone. Are you one of those people that if they lose something are incapable of thinking or doing anything... Continue Reading →
When I was a magazine editor, many hours were spent getting me camera-ready. A stylist provided designer clothes, a make-up artist spack-filled and blow-dried me to perfection, then a photographer took endless photos until I was happy. This was an arduous process. But, as I was the editor, everyone had to suck it up. Click, click, click, click ... Now I'm... Continue Reading →
Sprog 1 is struggling with her maths and her social skills. Neither of which are my speciality. I needed maths coaching to get through high school (it still wasn't counted in my HSC) and I was an odd-bod. I tried helping Sprog 1 with her multiplication homework last night. I wasn't very patient. It was beyond me why someone so smart couldn't understand 2 x 1 =... Continue Reading →
I am so very, very, very glad I told Husband he couldn't come on my Mum's 69th birthday celebratory cruise* to Hawaii. I banned him because he'd moan and complain and hang shit on it. Like he did when we went to Las Vegas and he christened it Sodom. Or when we stayed at the all-inclusive resort in Mexico that made him twitch... Continue Reading →
I got my highest-ever hits on the blog yesterday. I should be stoked, on top of the world. But I just feel slightly sick and lip-curly about it. Because 232 of the hits were from people searching "Whitney Houston corpse", "Whitney Houston in casket", "Whitney Houston walking skeleton" (?), "Whitney Houston sink", and one sad bugger... Continue Reading →
Catholics are burdened with guilt. I'm burdened with regrets. And guilt. All the stuff I wish I'd done differently. I wish I'd been nicer to my great-grandmother. I wish I'd seen Alex before he died. And James. I wish I hadn't kissed the boy with no front teeth. I wish I had ravaged the boy outside the bar that night. I... Continue Reading →
After hobbling around like I'd been straddling a horse for a week - too many reps on the "clacker" machine - I finally did another gym class yesterday. It was called "Sculpt" and the brochure described it as "non-impact". My sweet lord, I'm glad I didn't choose an impact one. Being uncoordinated, I've spent my adult life avoiding gym classes. But the mums assured me I didn't need to be co-ordinated for... Continue Reading →
