BBQ schmarBQ

All week the weather forecast has said rain. Every day - rain. But in the reality it has rained but a few minutes of any one day. So when they said rain for satdee that was ok. It's our BBQ day. We will not be deterred by a few minutes of rain.

Except it's not just a few minutes. It started in the wee hours of this morning and has not stopped. It actually got heavier in the past few minutes as we discussed the fact we must go and pick up the spit which the butcher has slapped 4kg of lamb and chicken on to... Unfortunately I doubt that won't fit in the freezer... Ooh I just heard thunder. Good times...

So an inside BBQ it is! It's like being in England and having your plans for sunny BBQ trashed...

I would like to take this moment to suggest that mother nature shares her rain with WA. They could do with some help still.

I love Lime/Lindt

What does your man do to make you feel better when he's leaving you for a boys evening (and there may be some hormones involved...). He swings by the Lindt shop on his way home (which coincidentally is next door to Tiffany's) and buys me a giant Christmas tree bauble and a huge bag of mint and peppermint dk choc yumminess. Oh I love Lindt (& Lime).

If it wasn't for the potential hormones in play then I probably would have preferred a little green bag as opposed to a big blue one. But I am pretty chuffed sitting here on my couch, drinking tea, watching trashy Telly and eating yummy choc!

Another one?!

3 protests in a month. 2 in one day alone.

This is the start of the nurses protest. And will probably replace the other one on the steps of parliament once they've marched up there.

Maybe I should protest something - like visa conditions being prejudiced cruel and unfair!

Who's with me? We can wear purple tshirts and have a chavvy chant and a sing song. The nurses had music playing from the truck. Maybe I could have a truck with music too... Ooh what fabulous song could I pick... Hmmm...

Freedom of speech

This may have happened frequently in London. But I never saw it.

I did see an art exhibit at the Tate London about how half the gallery was 1 mile from parliament square so they didn't need permission to protest. Silly British parliament. How I miss Guy Fawkes night.

If anyone attempted the same plot in Ausland they would probably get a bigger sentence for the potential fire hazard/bush fire starter than they would on terrorism charges!
(the most fireworks I can buy are sparklers. Just sparklers. And nothing more than sparklers).

But this pic is my second protest seen in a month. Something about social work and children dying because of job cuts through neglect and abuse (the children dying, not the job cuts).

The last one was supporting wall streets protestors. And let's just say the police were not so kind on those ones in the end...

But this one had a lovely chant on the steps of parliament. And when they did the bit "when do we want it" there was beautifully bogan twanged "now" at the end of it. I couldn't stop giggling. Which is obviously not supportive. But it just sounded so cute/funny/bogan/Auslandish!

But the police were a lot nicer with these people. Probably because they all have jobs and don't just jump on the protest bandwagon because New York are doing it so it's cool!!

Suncream suncream everywhere...

Sunburn sucks. My two worst sunburns are as follows:

1 - Germany, ski trip in the early 90's. Blisters on my nose, ears and mouth. Painful stuff. Kerri, Tish and I ate our dinner through straws for a week. Laughing hurt, imagine being afraid of smiling in case you pop a blister. And we missed several good snow days - boo hiss!

2 - christmas day 2002, Bondi beach. It was rainy, it was chilly and there were clouds. Who knew?! My ass was a beautiful tomato shade of red. And the only thing that eased the pain was pressing my arse cheeks against a cold wall. An attractive sight eh!

There have been other sunburns. But those were the worst by far.

Now don't get me wrong. I am all for protecting my skin. Cancer is bad. Burns hurt etc. But... I want options.

In the land of high UV and hot hot summers (not to mention tragic bushfires like the controlled burn off in WA which is now out of control and burning down houses) it is obviously more important to observe sunscreen directions.

But I would also like to get a tan a well. As someone who plays with their sunscreen levels dependent on day and activity I like to have a variety of spf's on the shelf for varying areas, tan levels etc. Alas Ausland does not want to allow me that choice. SPF 30 that is my choice. And only one unless I want to cover myself in oily Hawaiian tropic every day.

I can buy sunscreen in aerosols, spray bottles, keyring options, giant vats, zinc, roll on, gel, cream, milk, squirt, spray and pump. But only in SPF 30.

I realize this promotes general usage of a high SPF. And I also understand that the UV is higher here. But seriously? Factor 30 or nothing?

I can kind of understand why there is so much vitamin D deficiency in this country. SPF 30, work and school hats are obligatory by law for the young uns and for any outdoor work. People forget they need 10 mins a day - arms and legs to top up their supply.

In my unemployment you would think I would be browner than brown already. But no. I am actually at an he where I get bored with lying around. And the UV makes it difficult to read a book.

I guess I shouldn't whinge too much - seeing how we now have sunshine and the UK has winter... Enjoy!

Guilty pleasures...?

We all have them. I remember an SATC episode where Carrie was getting sick of Aidan as she needed some space to do the pottering around type things we do. And he was always there. I'm always here now. Poor Lime. But his only single guilty pleasure (other than watching golf - and we don't have the cable channels) is to play xbox, and kill zombies and people. But then I also like to play that with him. So he lucks out.

One of my guilty pleasures is the twilight phenomenon.

I know I know. Sad. But I don't scream after the 17 year old (going on 25) stars of the show. I prefer the books, but all in all I love a good love story. And if you need some imagination to follow it then all the better. We all grew up with Jim Henson's creations, Labyrinth, the Dark Crystal and some trippy kids cartoons (possibly experiments) so if we didn't grow up with an imagination then we were screwed. And your life is probably slightly dull without one.

But today in my unemployment I took myself off to westfield and watched the new twiglet movie. It was quite depressing that there were several middle aged women getting way too excited about it. Along with a few girls who looked like they may have been playing hooky from school (the vampire and wolf are more their age so it's allowed).

After it though I feel the same as I do about all the previous films... The book was better. Sickeningly cheesy unnecessary lines were used in the first half. It almost felt like transformers. You know - bad bad cheesy lines. I was almost expecting some tacky cameos. Fortunately that didn't happen but part 2 has yet to come... And knowing what happens in the book for the remainder of the story they're really gonna have to plump that one up a bit...

Anyhoo, I'm still unemployed this afternoon, so after an hour in the sunshine I might rewatch the first few twiglet movies...

Should we learn from our mistakes?

Last new year I had an unidentified bite. It was assumed spider, as mossies itch and swell but don't tend to burn and have multiple rings of swelling. And I had been gardening pulling out the bushes our front in just flopflops and shorts.

So the next time I went on a gardening mission I had wellies (gumboots in ausland) my trackies tucked in to my wellies and a long sleeve tshirt. It was warm and yukky. But given the sleepless nights and suffering from the bite it was completely necessary.

So today, in my unemployment, I do some gardening. Again. But, in my skirt (short) and sandals. Oops.

Many things scratched me. But at no point did I feel a 'bite'. Alas, there was one...

In the picture, the top left, darker bite was the first mozzie of the season from a BBQ last weekend. Just the one fortunately. it has been rather bruised but is on it's way out.

The bottom right blotch is the beginning of yet another unidentified gardening related bite. At the moment it's like any mozzie bite, itchy and tingly. And I hope that it stays like that. But now the thought of going through the burny itchiness of last new year is running through my head.

Why or how did I forget the lessons of last summers gardening?! How do we forget such bloody important things?!

Why does ausland NEED so many biting terrors?! New Zealand doesn't have any. A lot of the rest of the worlds insects and crawlies survive without biting people to death. And if they didn't bite so much I'd probably allow the little bastards to stay in my garden!

I need a job to keep me safe from myself!!

I heart stubby holders

If you'd asked me a few years ago what a stubby holder was I would have stared at you blankly, then perhaps asked what a stubby was that it needed a holder.

These days I know it's an insulator for beer stubby bottles. I don't however know why the hell you would call a beer bottle a stubby...

Anyhoo, it's 2009. We are at a fabulous wedding in Palm Cove, think palm tree lined beach, a tropical private island just off shore, beautiful sunny weather, an amazingly gorgeous bride, the grooms alright (for a man in a suit), a free bar and then stubby holders. Stubby holders with the bride and groom as stick figures on the side with the date of their wedding.

In the UK it would I feel be deemed as tacky. But here, in the land of 'keep my beer cold and I'll love you forever' they were perfect. So there were our first two stubby holders.

To be honest I had never used them. Not once. Then frandangles and Neil came to stay and they came out of hiding for a wee little BBQ we had. But as a non beer drinker I had never used them myself. And the fact someone asked me if we had any stubby holders took me by surprise!

Then last month - another wedding, and our third stubby holder (there would have been a fourth too I'd it weren't for stubby holder pilferers!).

I have now decided that everyone who gets married HAS to contribute to my stubby holder collection. And yes - if Lime ever makes an honest woman out of me I too shall share stubby holders with the world!

Although I still don't drink beer - my cans of sprite fit the stubby holders! Ingenious! I wonder if they make wine bottles size ones with a big long straw...

Now I'm pretty sure they have held cans all along - but not having grown up with stubby holders how was I to know?!

So Bel, Sonj - if you're reading this - stubby holders please. As you're likely to be my next two weddings. Then on an unemployed 30 degree day like today I can sup on my sprite zero in my teeny courtyard and reminisce over your weddings.

Now go forth all and buy stubby holders! Your hand won't get cold from holding your bottle too long. And your bottle will be colder longer!

Woe is me.

Lurgy. It attacks when you least expect/want/need.

This picture is of me and my duvet in front of tv. Yey to comfy couch. I'm not there now. I'm in bed. If it was light enough I would count ceiling panels. But it's not. And we don't have ceiling panels. So I couldn't anyway. But sheep are dull.

Lime has abandoned me. (well maybe his interstate work trip was preplanned but I'm sick now so it should have been rescheduled). The inbox is bare (aren't you all psychic and just know I need a hundred emails this week to pick me up?!). And now I have insomnia with my swollen glands begging for sleep and my brain knowing I HAVE to get up for work in 6 hours...

And then it dawned on me. What I need for sleep. It has always worked before. But oh yeah... They don't sell it in Australia. Damn it! Damn you insomnia! And damned you night nurse for not being international!!

So all ye in England, use and abuse night nurse's fluoro green wonderfulness while you can! It's insomnia fixing cold mending loveliness is just lovely. And please add it to your lists of what to bring me if you're ever coming to visit!

In the meantime I shall go back to my sheep counting hoarseness.

Woe is me. Three days alone with nothing but the couch.