Some of my most favourite and not so favourite things in our first year of co-habitation:
He loves to cooks. I love to eat. :)
He cooks the best lamb chops in the world and Lamb chops are my fave. :) :)
I ask him to vacuum, instead he decides to fix a tap that doesn't need fixing. :(
I clean and disinfect the toilets, while he takes out the rubbish. :) but also a :( (cause I really don’t like having to clean toilets)
I get to wake up next to him every day to give & get plenty of cuddles.:):)
When I roll over to his side of the bed and put my face on his pillow to be closer to him, I realise my face is in a puddle of his drool. :(
Our ensuite is teeny tiny so we bash into each other when getting ready for work in the morning :( He’s started using our other bathroom, :)
He sometimes forgets that we share a bed and squashes the shit out of me when he rolls to the middle of the bed. :( But in the middle of the night when the blanket is not on me, he will pull it over me to make sure I’m warm aaaaww. :) :)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Not in that kind of mood.
I went into the art store today to buy some materials for a mood board I'm working on with an 'island escape' theme. This will be an out-and-out cinch since I've been harnessing this energy for the last dreary cold month from my longing of a tropical getaway. Which by the way remains unbooked but all planned out- a short, but heavenly sweet holiday to Bora Bora with the boy in tow, white sand through our toes, swimming in clear blue warm water, cocktails on the beach and daily massages... (insert big sigh here) But I digress, where was I? Yes that's right, I can't wait to get stuck into this project.
The lovely art store lady was really helpful, showing me all the different types of adhesives I could use for samples with different textures/materials etc. As far as art store ladies go, she was definitely an expert and also was kind enough to suggest another theme for my project...
She quite excitedly recommended doing a Brothel theme, saying to me- 'You could go wild!'. Now I had to do a double take cause I wasn't sure that was what she said and secondly, I didn't think that she would be serious. But yep, that is exactly what she said and she was plenty serious. I replied... 'hmmm maybe not quite the clientele I am looking to do business with but that's interesting...' and then I started to have visions of red light '69' neon signs on dingy street corners and PVC, PVC leather everywhere... She went on to tell me that her husband made up the neon signs for these businesses and three very important reasons why there were the best customers to have:
1. They will always pay whats agreed to- never going back on their word
2. They always pay above market price and finally,
3. They will always pay in cash
Whilst these were pretty compelling reasons, I think I might stick to the g-rated clients and art store lady should stick to selling art store stuff. But it made for an interesting visit to the art store nonetheless.
Out of curiousity though, I have since googled ‘brothel’ just to see how I could possibly start such an association and let me tell you they weren’t exactly advertising ‘interior designers’ wanted...
The lovely art store lady was really helpful, showing me all the different types of adhesives I could use for samples with different textures/materials etc. As far as art store ladies go, she was definitely an expert and also was kind enough to suggest another theme for my project...
She quite excitedly recommended doing a Brothel theme, saying to me- 'You could go wild!'. Now I had to do a double take cause I wasn't sure that was what she said and secondly, I didn't think that she would be serious. But yep, that is exactly what she said and she was plenty serious. I replied... 'hmmm maybe not quite the clientele I am looking to do business with but that's interesting...' and then I started to have visions of red light '69' neon signs on dingy street corners and PVC, PVC leather everywhere... She went on to tell me that her husband made up the neon signs for these businesses and three very important reasons why there were the best customers to have:
1. They will always pay whats agreed to- never going back on their word
2. They always pay above market price and finally,
3. They will always pay in cash
Whilst these were pretty compelling reasons, I think I might stick to the g-rated clients and art store lady should stick to selling art store stuff. But it made for an interesting visit to the art store nonetheless.
Out of curiousity though, I have since googled ‘brothel’ just to see how I could possibly start such an association and let me tell you they weren’t exactly advertising ‘interior designers’ wanted...
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
My masterchef.
As I am not the cook of the house, my boy has pretty much got authority on the dinner menu but for the most part he is quite obliging to his customers (being me) and will cook by request. However one evening, he became possessed with the masterchef spirit and decided he was going to experiment with the menu.
Upon hearing the dinner plan I declined and settled for the leftover lamb roast from the night before, whilst he concocted what was apparently going to be a culinary masterpiece.So, the gastronomic result was a tuna casserole with red kidney bean, baby corn, chopped onions, oregano with a dash of salt & pepper, vegeta and from what I witnessed (which he'll never admit to) every other spice and herb we had in the cupboard.
Now I'm no masterchef, but even I, (the most useless cook) know that the combination of the above ingredients does not a masterpiece maketh. He proceeded to eat the dish with a big smile on his face, making comments every once in a while 'mmm this is so nice...' and '...You don't know what you're missing out on'. As the only bean I like are the beans in jelly beans, I refused to even go near the thing whilst I savoured my 2nd day (but juicy nonetheless) lamb roast with baked vegies.
Anyways, I didn't realise that he cooked so much of the casserole that we could have eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the whole week until I saw the dish in the fridge the next day. I queried why he hadn't packed any for lunch and he proceeded to tell me that he needed to fix the dish first. Transalation: it tastes really bad, but I don't want to chuck it out and waste food. And so for dinner, he made me a steak, whilst he persevered with transforming his casserole to potato bake, by adding tomato paste, potato, bay leaves and cheese.
The end result appeared to be look much more appetizing then its original state, but the tuna-red kidney bead-baby corn casserole turned potato bake wasn't going to fool me. And for the last 2 days the boy has been trying to finish this dish for lunch like he has something to prove. Bless him.
Whilst it has has been slightly amusing, I feel kind of bad for my poor darling and so I have decided to make him dinner tomorrow night for a change (and by make dinner, I mean dial up our fave thai).
Upon hearing the dinner plan I declined and settled for the leftover lamb roast from the night before, whilst he concocted what was apparently going to be a culinary masterpiece.So, the gastronomic result was a tuna casserole with red kidney bean, baby corn, chopped onions, oregano with a dash of salt & pepper, vegeta and from what I witnessed (which he'll never admit to) every other spice and herb we had in the cupboard.
Now I'm no masterchef, but even I, (the most useless cook) know that the combination of the above ingredients does not a masterpiece maketh. He proceeded to eat the dish with a big smile on his face, making comments every once in a while 'mmm this is so nice...' and '...You don't know what you're missing out on'. As the only bean I like are the beans in jelly beans, I refused to even go near the thing whilst I savoured my 2nd day (but juicy nonetheless) lamb roast with baked vegies.
Anyways, I didn't realise that he cooked so much of the casserole that we could have eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the whole week until I saw the dish in the fridge the next day. I queried why he hadn't packed any for lunch and he proceeded to tell me that he needed to fix the dish first. Transalation: it tastes really bad, but I don't want to chuck it out and waste food. And so for dinner, he made me a steak, whilst he persevered with transforming his casserole to potato bake, by adding tomato paste, potato, bay leaves and cheese.
The end result appeared to be look much more appetizing then its original state, but the tuna-red kidney bead-baby corn casserole turned potato bake wasn't going to fool me. And for the last 2 days the boy has been trying to finish this dish for lunch like he has something to prove. Bless him.
Whilst it has has been slightly amusing, I feel kind of bad for my poor darling and so I have decided to make him dinner tomorrow night for a change (and by make dinner, I mean dial up our fave thai).
Monday, July 19, 2010
My beautiful jewels!
The boy and I went for a walk on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon to enjoy some great coffee at the cafe around the corner and to take a nice stroll to soak in some much needed vitamin d. So off we went hand in hand, looking forward to his cappucino and my weak skinny flat white with one sugar.
After our coffee we decided to venture into some of the warehouses/outlets up the road. Our walk was then extended to a window shopping expedition. The first 3-4 of stores were mainly for sporting wear/goods, which roused no interest in me as the idea of exercise repulses me and I won't so much as run even if being chased. But much to my bliss we stumbled upon an amazing shoe store next door which stocks Italian and Spanish leather samples amongst other brands that make one salivate. At first, the sign outside showed absolutely no promise of a shoe heaven. But, in this instance the words ring true- don't judge a book (shoe store) by its (crappy 1980s) cover (shopfront sign). Anyway, as I needed some relief from the sporting goods overload I decided to walk into the store and uncovered one of a kind finds... The type of shoes that make you giddy.
Now I can't believe I have never blogged about my absolute obsession for shoes, bags or fashion in general. I guess it may have something to do with my pre-occupation with interior delights. But the shoes I bought are completely blog-worthy.
Just when I thought I had found my favourite winter boot for the season, I could not believe my fortune in finding this store and secondly for having a bf who is an enabler of my shoe addiction. So I walked out with the following pair of jewels. Covet them ladies, I know you will!
It turned out to be a very expensive coffee but an absolutely sensational walk!
After our coffee we decided to venture into some of the warehouses/outlets up the road. Our walk was then extended to a window shopping expedition. The first 3-4 of stores were mainly for sporting wear/goods, which roused no interest in me as the idea of exercise repulses me and I won't so much as run even if being chased. But much to my bliss we stumbled upon an amazing shoe store next door which stocks Italian and Spanish leather samples amongst other brands that make one salivate. At first, the sign outside showed absolutely no promise of a shoe heaven. But, in this instance the words ring true- don't judge a book (shoe store) by its (crappy 1980s) cover (shopfront sign). Anyway, as I needed some relief from the sporting goods overload I decided to walk into the store and uncovered one of a kind finds... The type of shoes that make you giddy.
Now I can't believe I have never blogged about my absolute obsession for shoes, bags or fashion in general. I guess it may have something to do with my pre-occupation with interior delights. But the shoes I bought are completely blog-worthy.
Just when I thought I had found my favourite winter boot for the season, I could not believe my fortune in finding this store and secondly for having a bf who is an enabler of my shoe addiction. So I walked out with the following pair of jewels. Covet them ladies, I know you will!
It turned out to be a very expensive coffee but an absolutely sensational walk!
Friday, July 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Tangled Brush causes Broken Hearts
Our adorable 6 year old niece Tara is growing up so quickly and learning so fast.I thinks its good that she is experiencing some of life important lessons at such a young age.
Some important lessons learned recently include: how to groom her hair, how to get the brush out if it were to get tangled to the shit-house and the consequences of these said actions.
And so the story goes, as she tried to brush her beautiful blond hair on her own, the brush got a little sticky. With little, if any persistence of trying to get the brush out, she decided the best course of action was to take a pair of scissors and cut the bastard out. She probably thought- what the hell? (perhaps not in those words exactly) My hair will grow back, this is much less painful then if i try to yank it out and I don't think anyone will notice. Or perhaps, much like myself as a 6 year old, she didn't think at all and proceeded to commit the crime of massacaring her beautiful blond hair.
I'm not exactly sure where she disposed of the evidence, but forensics revealed a cowlick at the top of her head in place of her long luscious locks. At first her parents were concerned that she might have had some sort of illness causing her to lose hair. They thought about bringing her to see the doctor. But this affirmative defense would not hold up and as her parents continued to question her it became apparent that she was guilty of the cutting her hair, even though she vehemently denied it at first.
Once the verdict was in she was served her punishment-words from her mother about how she should never do it again and when initial concerns wore off, the family started to playfully chant 'Tara's a peacock. Tara's a peacock...', at first she wasn't phased, but all of a sudden she stormed off up to her room.
Later that afternoon, Tara approached her mum and said 'This is how I felt when all of you were all calling me Peacock' and handed mum this piece of paper:
It reads: This is wot tara fils like sad. Tara Hurot (Heart) Aaaaaaawww. She told me she will never cut her hair again. Bless.
Some important lessons learned recently include: how to groom her hair, how to get the brush out if it were to get tangled to the shit-house and the consequences of these said actions.
And so the story goes, as she tried to brush her beautiful blond hair on her own, the brush got a little sticky. With little, if any persistence of trying to get the brush out, she decided the best course of action was to take a pair of scissors and cut the bastard out. She probably thought- what the hell? (perhaps not in those words exactly) My hair will grow back, this is much less painful then if i try to yank it out and I don't think anyone will notice. Or perhaps, much like myself as a 6 year old, she didn't think at all and proceeded to commit the crime of massacaring her beautiful blond hair.
I'm not exactly sure where she disposed of the evidence, but forensics revealed a cowlick at the top of her head in place of her long luscious locks. At first her parents were concerned that she might have had some sort of illness causing her to lose hair. They thought about bringing her to see the doctor. But this affirmative defense would not hold up and as her parents continued to question her it became apparent that she was guilty of the cutting her hair, even though she vehemently denied it at first.
Once the verdict was in she was served her punishment-words from her mother about how she should never do it again and when initial concerns wore off, the family started to playfully chant 'Tara's a peacock. Tara's a peacock...', at first she wasn't phased, but all of a sudden she stormed off up to her room.
Later that afternoon, Tara approached her mum and said 'This is how I felt when all of you were all calling me Peacock' and handed mum this piece of paper:
It reads: This is wot tara fils like sad. Tara Hurot (Heart) Aaaaaaawww. She told me she will never cut her hair again. Bless.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Stimulus package explained
I got this email the other day... Thought it was Brilliant-
It's a slow day in a dusty little Australian town. The sun is beating down and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit.
On this particular day a rich tourist from down south is driving through town , stops at the local motel and lays a $100 bill on the desk saying he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night.
Owner gives him keys to a few rooms and as soon as the man walks upstairs, he grabs the $100 bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher.
The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to repay his debt to the pig farmer.
The pig farmer takes the $100 and heads off to pay his bill at the supplier of feed and fuel.
The guy at the Farmer's Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his drinks bill at the local pub.
The publican slips the money along to the local prostitute drinking at the bar, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer "services" on credit.
The prostitute rushes to the motel and pays off her room bill to the motel owner with the $100 ..
The motel proprietor then places the $100 back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything.
At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, picks up the $100 bill, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, pockets the money, and leaves town.
No one produced anything. No one earned anything.
However, the whole town is now out of debt and looking to the future with a lot more optimism.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the Australian Government's stimulus package works.
It's a slow day in a dusty little Australian town. The sun is beating down and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit.
On this particular day a rich tourist from down south is driving through town , stops at the local motel and lays a $100 bill on the desk saying he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night.
Owner gives him keys to a few rooms and as soon as the man walks upstairs, he grabs the $100 bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher.
The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to repay his debt to the pig farmer.
The pig farmer takes the $100 and heads off to pay his bill at the supplier of feed and fuel.
The guy at the Farmer's Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his drinks bill at the local pub.
The publican slips the money along to the local prostitute drinking at the bar, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer "services" on credit.
The prostitute rushes to the motel and pays off her room bill to the motel owner with the $100 ..
The motel proprietor then places the $100 back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything.
At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, picks up the $100 bill, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, pockets the money, and leaves town.
No one produced anything. No one earned anything.
However, the whole town is now out of debt and looking to the future with a lot more optimism.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the Australian Government's stimulus package works.
Friday, July 2, 2010
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