Batten Down the Hatches

We've been having more of that wild weather again.  After what has seemed like weeks of sunshine the skies darkened, the heavens opened and we were thrust into the midst of what appeared to be an endless storm.  I don't know if it's living on the coast or if it's just something with Australian weather but things get really wild here.  The wind, the rain.  Nothing is done by half.  If it's going to rain then it will pour.  If the wind wants to blow then it will let you know about it.  I walked to the dentists in the rain and nearly got blown away in the process.  I've never seen the sky look so black.  The sea and the sky almost seemed to blur into one grey mass as threatening clouds swirled and mighty waves crashed.  It was the perfect setting for a creepy ocean inspired film.  Possibly something with crusty pirates or an ominous goat.  Spooky stuff.  Needless to say the balcony has been flooding again and I managed to nab the lid from the compost bin before it went flying out to sea.  The windows have been rattling, the plants have been swaying and rain has been hammering down.  And ever since those floods I can't help but get a bit edgy when we get this much rain.  I start looking at every puddle with suspicious eyes.  Are you really a puddle?  Or are you the beginning of a flood.  Paranoid?  Yes.  But sometimes it pays to be.  Be prepared for an ominous goat around every corner.  You just never know.

Fear the Hygienist

Today has been my third trip to the dentist in just over a week.  Today, however, I have not been to see the dentist, rather I have been to see the hygienist.  And what a shocking experience that turned out to be.  Don't fear the dentist people.  Feat the hygienist.  Because that's where the pain is really at.  My God!  I know a lot of it is my own fault for putting off the trip for so long but I've never experienced anything like it.  And apparently it was all down to evil calculus.  Not normal calculus.  Evil calculus.  And not mathematical calculus.  This is dental calculus.  The type that builds up on your teeth and gets you into trouble with your hygienist.  The type that makes your hygienist dive into your mouth with a little pick axe and grind away at your teeth.  See, evil calculus!  I think I was in with the hygienist longer than when I was in with the dentist.  After an initial scrape, which isn't altogether pleasant but certainly isn't painful, the hygienist set about removing the calculus.  I have no idea what was going on in my mouth.  There was a tube sucking up rather a lot of blood and the tool that was being used to remove the evil calculus sounded like a drill but felt like a dagger to my gums.  It was like teeny tiny sticks were being rammed underneath my teeth at speed.  Cringe does not even begin to cover my reaction.  I was told to raise my hand if it became too much but I was determined to be a good patient and work through the pain.  I think my entire body went stiff apart from my feet which were jigging away.  My eyes must have told of my pain as the hygienist kept apologising but made a point of telling me I was doing very well.  All I could think about was how long it was going to take.  When would the ordeal be over.  But it just seemed to go on and on and I think I exhausted myself just trying to focus on not focusing on the pain.  You hear people talking about how they think past the pain and push through it.  There was no amount of sweet distributing bunny action going on in my brain that was going to make me forget the chiseling that was going on in my mouth.  Who are these people that can think through the pain.  They're hardcore.  Or they've never been to see the hygienist.  When it was all over I felt a little light headed and couldn't help running my tongue around my mouth where it now feels like there are massive gaps between each tooth.  Then I had a polish, which was much better.  Then I got to swish some fluoride and was told rather specifically not to swallow it.  Then I was told I couldn't eat or drink for half an hour, which was a blow considering how hungry I was.  And when someone tells you that you can't do something it only makes you want to do it even more.  But I behaved.  And was relieved when the dentist announced that overall my teeth were very healthy and I wouldn't be needing any more fillings or what not.  But they want to see me again in six months and keep on top of the evil calculus.  Go back?  Go back to the hygienist.  But it was agony.  And I didn't even get a sticker or a lolly pop.  Though I did get given a toothbrush and some toothpaste.  Not the same though is it.  It's hard to imagine how I'll motivate myself to go back again.  A lot of pain for a lot of money.  What's in it for me?  Oh yeah, healthy teeth.  I guess that's important.

Little Stalky is Confused by the Seasons

Living upside down in Australia causes me all sorts of confusion.  Especially when it comes to the seasons.  I still get muddled up when it comes to Spring and Autumn.  The amount of times that people ask to book for the Spring school holidays and my brain just goes into meltdown as I try to confirm when Spring actually is.  To me, Spring is now but it's not.  It's Autumn.  I don't know how long it will take me to adjust but I hope it's soon because it's starting to boggle my brain.  The other problem I face is it's at this time of year that I start to feel all festive.  I associate Christmas with cooler weather and with the wind blowing and snuggling up with the Snuggie I have to fight the urge to whip out a Christmas tree and start singing carols.  When Christmas does eventually come round and it's scorching hot I find it hard to get into the traditional festive mood.  But it seems it's not just me that feels festive around this time of year as the Aussies regularly celebrate Christmas in July.  It's an opportunity to have a proper roast dinner with all the trimmings and enjoy it whilst the weather is cool.  That's fine with me.  Any excuse to have a roast dinner. 

Little Stalky: Menace to Wine Glasses

I have recently become a danger to wine glasses.  I've broken two in as many days.  And that might not seem like much but this is not the first time this has happened.  I seem to break wine glasses in sets of two.  I break one and I can see the others quivering in the cupboard, waiting to see which will be next.  Because Little Stalky always breaks wine glasses in sets of two.  And true to form I broke another one whilst washing up this morning.  This is why we don't have expensive wine glasses.  The thing is, these wine glasses are normally fairly sturdy.  I've had some in the past which have crumbled in my hands but these are - or were - solid.  I've knocked them over and manhandled them and they've never protested.  But catch a glass at slightly the wrong angle and it's all over.  The first one went when I missed the draining board and cracked the glass against the side of the sink.  My aim was seriously off.  Glass everywhere.  And I hadn't even had a glass of wine!  The next one just tipped over whilst on the draining board but landed on a rogue spoon.  I think it was sick of the waiting and decided to just take the plunge.  Don't wait for Little Stalky to do the damage, just do it and then it's over with.  So now we're down to like two wine glasses that actually match, a novelty wine glass and a randomly large wine glass.  If we have more than 4 people over for drinks they'll be supping out of mugs.  I do of course have some stylish cocktail glasses but with my track record these only come out on special occasions and are normally reserved for margarita drinking.  I'll have to take a trip to Target and pick up some more cheap glasses.  Either that or just stick to plastic from now on.  It might be safer.

I Can't Believe It's Another Woolworths Adventure

Yes, it's another Woolworths adventure.  Do I spend too much time there?  Probably.  But Woolworths is where the action is and with Trolley Dude's reign under threat and suspicious mind controlling jingles, there's not shortage of drama.  I'd ambled up to Woolworths yesterday after having my filling.  I think I might have been a little bit out of it at this point because I kept giggling and found myself feeling somewhat lost in the aisles.  What had I gone in there for?  Where was stuff kept?  Why are people giving me funny looks?  Maybe because I'm grinning to myself with a creepy lopsided smile.  I grabbed the items that I wanted and wandered over to the basket checkout where there was a very long queue with one girl serving.  I didn't care.  Couldn't have cared less.  I was in a very good mood and I've learnt that the less you care about these things the less they affect you.  No point in getting a grump on because it'll only put you in a mood.  So I had my basket on the floor, pushing it along with my foot and was minding my own business but I couldn't help but pick up on the conversation going on behind me.  Two old ladies were going on about the length of the queue.  They were not happy about the queue.  Who was in charge anyway?  Why wasn't someone doing something.  Were people queue jumping?  And then they got very cross about people committing the horrendous sin of bringing more than 8 items to the check out.  Shameful behaviour that.  They were most cross about this.  How dare their fellow shoppers overload their baskets.  Honestly, some people just don't stick to the rules.  I had never really considered this.  I had always just assumed this was the basket checkout.  If you had a basket then you went there because unless you have a trolley, how much can you realistically have?  Too much according to these ladies.  Disgraceful that people are so irresponsible.  And whilst they were busy admonishing people with more than 8 items I looked down into my basket and realised that I definitely had more than 8 items.  Probably more like 15 if you count individual lemons and what not.  And I might have felt sheepish.  But I didn't.  I felt mischievous and rebellious.  They were still ranting on about people and their overloaded baskets whilst I started unloading mine.  And I couldn't help but turn around and look at them.  Look at them and smile (bearing in mind half of my mouth is still numb so this is a very creepy smile) and slowly unload each individual item, blatantly announcing that I have more than 8 items in my basket.  I think I freaked them out a bit.  Crooked smiles have that effect on people.  Then I was overcome with the giggles again - I blame the anaesthetic - and had to force myself to behave lest I was dragged away by the men in white coats.  But I think I made my point.  There are more important things in life than whinging about people who have more than 8 items in their basket.  Imagining yourself as a walrus for example.  Very important. 

Little Stalky Gets a Filling

I have returned from the dentist and my tooth is now filled.  And my mouth is a bit numb.  But hey ho.  I was quite blase about going to the dentist until I actually sat down in the chair.  Then I got a bit nervous.  I think it's the unknown.  Not knowing what to expect.  I figured I needed to try very hard not to look at the various tools that would poking around in my mouth and imagine myself into a happy place.  With dancing rabbits scattering offerings of wine gums, fruit pastels and fruit gums.  Inappropriate at the dentists but it made me happy.  The dentist numbed my gums before injecting the anaesthetic and I must say that although I was shaking at this point I didn't feel a thing.  It was totally painless.  And then I started to numb up and that was a weird sensation.  The dental nurse was talking to me whilst the anaesthetic was kicking in and I could hear my voice becoming thick as the right side of my mouth started to protest.  Once the anaesthetic had kicked in they began work on the tooth.  There was drilling, there was poking and there were definitely lasers.  There was also a hoover type device that was sucking up liquid in my mouth.  A strange experience but painful?  Not at all.  I kept waiting for the dentist to announce that the next bit would be a bit uncomfortable.  Or, this might hurt a bit.  Or, ok you'll feel a slight twinge.  But it never came.  And it never hurt.  And as I relaxed and fought the urge to sneeze - a bad time to sneeze - with various things hanging out of my mouth I couldn't help but imagine myself as a walrus.  This is not good.  Never imagine yourself as a walrus when people are poking around in your mouth with drills.  Because it makes you want to giggle.  And giggling would not be good.  I fought the urge to giggle but it was hard.  The walrus images were hilarious at the time.  The filling was actually done in no time and I was surprised that it seemed so easy.  I had to rinse my mouth out and this time I did laugh because the numb side of my face wasn't responding to my brain's instructions and I ended up dribbling all over the place.  Try swirling and spitting when one half of your mouth is numb.  It's not easy.  But very funny.  I left the dentist and phoned Mystical Roo to tell him that I was alright and regaled him with tales of me as a walrus.  He asked if I had a silver or white filling and I realised that I didn't know.  It wasn't brought up so I assumed it wasn't an option.  That made me keen to get home and check things out in the mirror.  I also wanted to laugh at my own face as I knew my smile was wonky.  I got home and checked out the tooth and realised - much to my delight - that the filling is white.  You wouldn't know anything had been done.  Except for the fact that there's no hole anymore.  Good work Mr dentist.  Little Stalky salutes you!  

The Basil Plant Feels Better

I've been very strict with trying to keep the basil plant in a routine that might make him feel better.  I decided that the cooler night temperatures had been having an unfortunate effect on my basil plant and that action had to be taken.  So, he's been coming in of a night and going back outside in the day.  I read somewhere that the basil wouldn't appreciate going from extreme to extreme and would need a kind of halfway point, like a garage or something.  Well I don't exactly have a garage.  Not one that I could leave the basil plant in.  He might get nicked!  So he's been coming into the laundry room instead.  It keeps a fairly steady temperature in there and the basil plant can benefit from sitting in the sink.  Water on tap!  Ha ha, I am witty.  He makes the whole laundry room smell like basil.  After a night out of the wind he then gets taken back out onto the balcony to sit in the sunshine.  Now I don't want to jinx it but I think he's looking better.  His bad leaves have fallen away and I can't see any new leaves looking poorly.  Also, he's developing new growth.  I'm hopeful.  It might be my optimistic nature but I can see him getting bushier, getting greener and getting healthier.  I think I've got a competitive plant.  He wants to be bigger and better than the others.  Here's hoping!

Trolley Dude Overthrown?!

Whilst dropping DVDs back at the video store I saw something truly shocking.  I saw a line of trolleys being pushed by someone other than trolley dude.  I know!  Shocking.  I've honestly never seen anyone other than trolley dude push the trolleys.  That's what he does.  I'm pretty sure that's what he lives for.  I imagine him to live in a trolley and use a trolley to get to work.  He would travel on the back of a trolley line like a man driving huskies across the snow.  I'm sure they have an official title.  Husky driver perhaps.  But this isn't about huskies people, this is about trolley dude.  Or rather the lack of trolley dude.  I eyed the new man suspiciously.  He was young, maybe only in his late teens and he had bleached hair and a dodgy hat.  He didn't look responsible enough to be handling the trolleys.  He didn't look like he cared.  So how had he come to such a position of power?  And where in the hell was trolley dude?  I immediately informed Mystical Roo of the development and he was shocked.  Then we realised what had happened.  It was because he cut his hair.  It really was the source of all his power.  And now that it's gone his power has gone.  And trolley dude has been overthrown!  I never thought I'd see the day.  I guess we'll just have to see how long this new kid lasts and whether trolley dude will be able to reclaim the throne. 

Little Stalky Goes to the Dentist

I've been putting it off for far too long but I've finally taken the plunge and gone to see the dentist.  I'm not really that fussed about going to the dentist, even if the last time I went they did steal four of my wisdom teeth.  It's more the cost of going to the dentist that troubles me.  Did I mention that those wisdom teeth set me back about $3,500.  You can see why I'd be nervous to go back.  But you've got to look after your teeth.  So today I went to the dentist.  This was the first time I've been to this particular surgery and I must say they were probably the best I've ever seen.  Ridiculously efficient and very friendly.  They knew who I was before I even walked through the door.  So I had various things poked around in my mouth - one of which I'm pretty sure was a laser - had an x-ray taken and was told that I needed a filling.  Noooooooo!  I'm upset simply because I have a perfect record.  I don't have any fillings.  But those damned pesky wisdom teeth had done some damage and now I have a tooth with a hole.  And the dentist said if I didn't get the filling then I'd be on to a root canal and if I didn't do that then I'd lose the tooth.  I'm not losing a tooth.  Yokel is so not a good look.  Damn those wisdom teeth.  Nothing but trouble.  So I'm booked in for Thursday for my first filling.  Wish me luck!

Drink on the Chin

Does anyone else have trouble walking and drinking at the same time or is it just me?  Unless armed with a straw I seem totally incapable of drinking mid stride without bashing my face with the can / bottle / cup and sploshing drink all over my chin and sometimes other parts of my Stalky self.  I just can't get the coordination right.  I literally have to stop walking if I want to take a drink.  Unless I have a straw.  I see other people strutting down the road whilst supping on their beverages so why can't I do it too?  Why can't I multitask.  And it's not just walking either.  As a passenger in a moving vehicle I have to wait for the traffic lights to be able to have a drink.  Otherwise it's drink on the chin all over again.  What on earth is wrong with me that I need to be stationary in order to enjoy a tipple.  Am I really that clumsy?  I think I'm going to have to go out armed with straws in case a drink is required whilst I'm in motion.  I'll smuggle them about my person.  Sneak them up sleeves.  Disguise them as hair pins.  Then I'll always be prepared.  Or I could just stand still.

Little Stalky Enjoys the Afternoon

It's a funny time of year at work where things really get quiet and I, as a casual, don't get many shifts.  Today I actually got sent home early.  I'm never overly thrilled about working on the weekend but at the end of the day it is good money.  But today I only did 4 of 9 hours before it was decided that it was simply too quiet and I got sent home.  I'm always torn between being happy to enjoy the rest of my Saturday afternoon and disappointed that I've lost out on earning some money.  Today I think I was happy to enjoy the afternoon.  It's been a glorious day and as I wandered home from work I couldn't help but contemplate a swim.  Instead I put on my rubber gloves and set about doing the dishes.  Yes, I'm fun and spontaneous.  Actually, as if sensing my need for fun and spontaneity, Monster Noggin phoned to see about going for an afternoon beer.  Well who am I to say no to an afternoon beer.  So after doing the dishes I finished off the afternoon at the Blue Diamond and once again had to marvel at the beautiful town in which I live.  We were sat there, Monster Noggin and I, watching the sun go down over the ocean and it was just perfect.  We enjoyed our beer, had a good natter and watched as three fully grown men played with a toy aeroplane in the park.  Actually the toy aeroplane was fairly impressive.  So, we actually watched the sun go down over the ocean whilst a toy aeroplane did acrobatics in the sky.  Beer, good company, a great location and entertainment.  Sounds like a good afternoon to me.  

Little Stalky Contemplates Crazy Town

I am once again being driven to the edge of crazy town by those helpful machines known as computers.  Actually I don't think it's so much the computers themselves as the programmes that I'm attempting to work out.  My new computer, the one which I'm currently using, is very well behaved.  My main issue seems to be with email at the moment.  I found, what seemed to be, a way to get all of my emails zooming into one account.  Busy Stalky that I am I have a number of email addresses for different uses.  Good, except for the fact that I have to log on to different accounts to check the various different inboxes.  I thought I'd found the answer and was excited to think that all this mail would just be accessible in one point.  And it worked.  At first.  But then something changed.  God knows what.  And everything stopped working.  Emails started duplicating, emails wouldn't get sent and Little Stalky started bashing her head against a wall.  I think the most frustrating thing is I can't understand what changed.  I didn't change anything.  So why was it working one day and then not the next.  Bloody temperamental thing.  I try to troubleshoot the issue but my  IT knowledge is limited and I get to the point where I don't know what to do next.  The help button advises me that I need to speak to my administrator.  My administrator?!  I'm my administrator!  And the administrator doesn't know what to do next.  So I might have to give up and go back to my original plan of just checking these email accounts separately.  Otherwise I might drive straight into the centre of crazy town and decide to set up shop.

The Basil Plant Rebels Against the Cold

After announcing that the basil plant was looking lush and bushy I'm now sad to say that he's looking decisively unhealthy.  After being attacked by what I assume was evil caterpillars of doom he's now suffering from wilting leaves, which have gone somewhat black around the edges.  He's still big but has definitely lost some of his bushiness.  It's like he just can't be bothered anymore.  My poor basil plant.  I've checked the other plants and they all seem to be happy.  I wondered, was this a case of bullying on the balcony?  But who is going to bully the basil plant.  He's pretty big.  And though the lemon tree is bigger, I've always thought of him as a peaceful tree.  Anyway, I've been doing some research and checking out what other basil plant owners think.  It seems that it may well be down to a sudden drop in temperature.  You'd think that living in Australia, the plants would be alright come winter, but apparently the basil plant is particularly sensitive and if the temperatures get lower than about 7 degrees then he won't be happy.  Well I know for a fact that we got down as low as 6 degrees the other night so it's no wonder he's in a strop.  I wouldn't be happy either.  The other plants are coping with the change in temperature but the basil plant is having none of it.  He likes things nice and warm apparently.  And who can blame him.  I'm thinking that maybe he needs to come in of a night.  The day seems to be fine with the sun shining and temperatures still doing ok.  It's not like we'll get a frost or anything.  But at night time I think he needs to be indoors.  So that's the plan.  Protect the basil plant from the cold and see if he brightens up a bit.  I hate to see the plants in distress and hope that this solves the problem.  I'll keep you posted.  

Tissue in the Wash!

For a while I thought there was nothing quite so annoying as washing a sieve.  I hate washing the sieve.  Everything sticks to it and no matter how hard you scrub at it there's always something lurking that won't quite come out.  You wash out the rice, only for even more to miraculously appear.  I hate washing the sieve.  But I've now decided there is something more annoying than washing the sieve.  The dreaded tissue in the wash.  I wearily hang my head and slump my shoulders just thinking about the tissue in the wash.  God damned tissue in the wash!  It's been happening so regularly of late that I've started to think the tissues are out to get me.  Leaping into the washing machine at the last minute just to cause havoc.  Sneaking into a pocket simply so they can explode amongst the suds.  Evil.  It's pure tissue evil.  And I don't even realise there's anything amiss until I go to hang the washing on the line and realise that everything is covered in a tiny film of white tissue dust.  Anything black and you can just forget about it.  They don't stand a chance against the power of the tissue in the wash.  And it's reign of terror doesn't stop there.  Oh no.  How does one deal with the results of a tissue in the wash.  I have no idea.  I naively thought that once the washing was dry I would simply be able to bash the tissue residue off.  No such luck.  That tissue dust is coming off when it wants to and not when you tell it to.  It will actually decide to come off just after you've done the hoovering.  It will litter the floor with it's white fury.  Even another wash doesn't seem to rid the clothes of the tissue beast.  No, I'm pretty sure that makes things worse because another tissue finds its way into the wash and then you've got a gang of tissues, doubling up and turning your world upside down!  I try picking the tissue residue off of our clothes but it makes for an impossible task.  Even the lint brush fails to make an impact.  I spent a good ten minutes yesterday desperately picking tissue off my tracksuit bottoms so that I could walk to work without people wondering why I was covered in dust.  I don't need that kind of attention.  I just don't!  Then the tissue dust was all over the carpet.  Then I start sneezing.  The make up starts running.  There's tissue dust in my hair!  It's bloody everywhere.  All of this because of one little tissue that found it's way into the washing machine.  The horror.  The horror!  In order to stop these tissue attacks I'm going to have to take preventative measures.  And I know that involves me sticking my hand into pockets.  But I hate doing it.  I can't tell you why but it really freaks me out.  But what can I do.  Someone has to stop the tissue madness.  And it seems I'm the one to do it.  But will I prevail?  I guess only time will tell. 

The Little Yellow Chopping Board

Mystical Roo and I are slowly building a stash of kitchen supplies.  It's one of those things that - unless you have lots of money to spend - when first starting out, you have to just add to.  You kind of start with some saucepans and wooden spoons and then work your way up to more exciting equipment such as the chopper and a garlic crusher.  But for some reason, Mystical Roo and I seem to have an abundant supply of chopping boards.  All in different colours and different sizes.  We have a pile of them.  I can only assume that they were some sort of bargain set that we picked up.  I can't really remember where they came from, I just know that they live in the cupboard.  And really come in handy.  I actually make great use of this number of chopping boards.  I like the fact that they come in different sizes.  You've got your big ones for some major chopping and the mini ones for the serving of delicate portions of cheese and crackers or carrot and hummus.  My favourite chopping board (yes, I know it's beyond sad to have a favourite chopping board) is they little yellow chopping board.  The smallest of the gang, he's the perfect size for single Stalky portions of cheese.  I can chop up some cheese, grab myself a glass of wine and set myself up with my book.  And the little yellow chopping board fits perfectly into this scenario.  So when I realised that I hadn't actually seen my little yellow chopping board in a number of weeks I started to worry.  I checked the pile and realised that he wasn't there.  I checked the draining board but still there was no sign.  I looked in the fridge to see if he was chilling out but there was nothing.  I even checked the freezer, you know, just in case.  I questioned Mystical Roo.  Had he taken the little yellow chopping board to work and not brought it home?  Mystical Roo denied any knowledge of the little yellow chopping board and I think he was confused as to why I was so concerned about it.  Poor little yellow chopping board.  Out there on his own.  But more frustratingly I just couldn't understand where he'd disappeared to.  And that's when I saw it.  At the back of the cupboard where we store our pots and pans, the back panel had started to come away.  And at the bottom right hand corner there was a gap.  A little yellow chopping board sized gap?  Possibly.  I peered in and wondered what might have disappeared through this hole.  Was the little yellow chopping board stuck in the wall?  Was that the answer to it's mysterious disappearance?  Well, no.  Actually, I found the little yellow chopping board hiding underneath a large frying pan that normally only comes camping with us.  An anticlimax I know but imagine my relief at finding my little yellow chopping board!  And he'd been hiding under a frying pan all along.  I've since returned him to the safe community of his fellow chopping boards.  And shifted them all away from the random hole at the back of the cupboard.  Who knows what's down there.  What might have gone in there.  What might come back out of there.  For the time being I'm leaving it well alone.  Never trust a random hole!  

It's Not a Darlek

Compost bin is joined by the BBQ and some
tomato plants which have passed on and
are waiting to go to compost heaven

I am a gardener (all be it an aspiring one) without a garden and I don't like my lack of garden to stop me doing the things other gardeners do.  Yes a ride on mower would be excessive and I'm not going to be planting an orchard any time soon but my little garden is coming along nicely.  And now a new addition.  Drum roll please.  A compost heap!  Ok, it's less of a heap and more of a bin.  And I haven't actually started the heap yet.  But I was - and continue to be - rather excited.  I have attached a picture of my new compost bin and I think he fits rather nicely against the wall.  He also resembles a darlek.  In fact as I was putting the bin together - yes I did it all by myself - Mystical Roo made comment that I looked like I was being attacked by a darlek.  But it's not a darlek.  At least I don't think it is.  I haven't noticed any plotting of world domination or floating, zapping antics.  We'll assume for the time being that it's not a darlek but that there is a vague possibility that it's a darlek disguised as a compost bin.  Until it starts exhibiting threatening behaviour I shall treat it as a compost bin.  Now what I didn't realise when I bought my darlek is that it doesn't have a bottom.  It's designed I guess for folk with actual gardens, actual soil, actual ground and what not.  Well I'm sorry but that's just prejudiced.  And making unnecessary assumptions that gardeners - like me - actually have a garden.  I obviously don't want to start the compost pile atop the tiles of the balcony so Mystical Roo and I figure we need some kind of base.  A tray of some description.  So this is our next mission.  To find the compost bin a bottom so that I can start my pile.  Then the adventures of Little Stalky's compost bin...can begin! 

The Dangers of Sewing Pillows

It's getting to that time of year at work when things get a bit boring.  It's not that busy, the phones go quiet, the emails go quiet and there aren't many people to check-in.  So we have the "other" tasks to get on with.  Letter stuffing, cleaning and the dreaded...pillow sewing.  Pillow sewing?  I hear you ask.  Yes, pillow sewing.  I do this task but I'm still not really sure why we do it.  But I'm a good Stalky.  I do as I'm told.  Even if it seems a bit weird...So what we do is buy in a load of new pillows and then sew pillow cases onto them.  These pillows are then covered with another pillow case and put into the expensive cabins.  Then, the pillows from the expensive cabins are brought into reception and we take off the old pillow cases, throw any manky looking pillows and sew pillow cases onto any decent looking pillows.  These pillows then go into the next level of accommodation and the pattern continues.  There are hundreds of pillows.  We have a right sewing circle going on at work.  No one to serve, no phones to answer so we're sat around, drinking tea and sewing pillows.  Doesn't sound too bad I suppose but on a 9 hour shift it can get a bit tedious.  Not to mention, the hazards of pillow sewing!  I, clumsy as I am, am highly at risk from pillow sewing.  I have lost count of the amount of times I've stabbed myself with that needle.  I drew blood a number of times on Thursday and had to plaster up my fingers.  That and the folding of 363 letters - oh the paper cuts - meant that my fingers and hands were looking a little worse for wear.  Fine as long as I stay away from vinegar.  So, at the end of the day we start doing some housekeeping tasks.  I was on mop duty and was happily filling up the bucket with water when I realised there was no floor cleaner about.  On investigation I was informed that we don't use the floor cleaner anymore because it was making the floor too slippery or something.  Seemed strange to me but there we go.  So what were we using in place of the floor cleaner?  Vinegar.  Oh bloody hell.  Yes, we're now using vinegar to clean the floors.  I stared at that vinegar bottle and it stared at me.  I'd hoped we'd come to some kind of agreement that it would behave itself but I could tell that the vinegar was of the mischievous variety and he certainly had other plans.  I steeled myself for the fight and snatched up the vinegar bottle, poured some into the bucket and replaced the bottle without incident.  Excellent.  I figured with the vinegar safely in the water I'd be fine.  So I set about washing the floors and had to wonder how  long the vinegar smell lingered for.  It was getting pretty strong and I realised no one had actually told me how much vinegar to add.  I'd just sloshed it in.  Perhaps too much?  Perhaps.  Would customers wonder why reception smelt of vinegar.  Is this just a ploy to sell more fish and chips?  Who knows.  I kept on mopping, swish, swish, splosh, splosh and then...then I got distracted.  By a random Swiss couple who wanted WiFi access.  I think they were speaking German and as the only German I know is "I have a hamster in my leather trousers" I was having trouble understanding them.  Yes they could speak more English than I can speak German but still, the accent was making WiFi hard to understand.  In my attempt to assist my customers the mop slipped, the bucket (on wheels) tried to make a break for it and as I reached out to calm the situation, my hand grabbed the end of the mop.  The wet end.  And then I knew the vinegar had won.  My God did that sting.  It wouldn't have been so bad if there had been one paper cut but they were all over my hand.  That and the various stab wounds from an errant needle.  And no plaster was keeping that vinegar tainted water out.  But in the face of the German speaking Swiss couple I had to remain professional.  So I fixed up their WiFi, I bade them good night and then I cursed the wretched mop and its vinegar loving ways.  By this point I had practically finished and hastily returned the mop and bucket to it's home.  Then I went home.  Not because I was traumatised by vinegar but because it was home time.  And Mystical Roo was waiting.  We returned home and I started on dinner.  I grabbed an onion.  Peeled it.  Sliced it.  And then the stinging started all over again.  Nothing is safe!  Nothing!  I shall take to wearing mittens until my wounds are healed.  

Little Stalky: Food Snob?

I went out for a meal with the girls from work on Tuesday and someone - I don't know who - had selected an Italian restaurant in a nearby town.  We were excited about the prospect of cocktails and a nice three course meal.  Who wouldn't be!  And although I had a nice evening with the girls, the restaurant was just awful.  Awful!  I know I've been spoilt with the Hungry Duck of late but this was just rank.  The thing is, I've heard others rave about the place and as we were eating, some of the girls were commenting on how they liked their dishes.  It made me wonder, am I a food snob?  Let me describe the evening to you.  We arrived at the bar to order cocktails and I ordered myself a Margarita.  It's the Stalky beverage of choice.  Anyway, I make myself a Margarita from time to time and I enjoy a nice cocktail at the Blue Diamond too.  A Margarita should be tequila, triple sec or Cointreau and fresh lime juice.  Emphasis on the fresh.  I watched the girl mix my drink, with half the alcohol a normal Margarita requires, lime cordial - lime cordial! - and so much ice I expected to find a rogue penguin in my glass.  It was awful.  I could taste nothing but ice.  It was a slushy with no flavour and certainly no alcohol.  And it wasn't just me who was disappointed with her cocktail.  The girls agreed that there was not enough alcohol (not that we were on the lash or anything) and the flavours were disappointing.  I guess one of us should have said something but it was obvious it wasn't just a one off error.  It was just poor cocktail making.  We then made our way over to our table and were served by unenthusiastic teenage girls who obviously didn't want to be there.  The menu looked nice enough but the food was a huge let down.  I had salt and pepper calamari to start, which turned out to be rubber covered in grease.  I had veal for main, which was tough as old boots and served with frozen chips and that salad.  You know, the salad you're not meant to eat or enjoy.  The one they just randomly shove on there because they feel they have to.  I had cheesecake for dessert and honestly didn't think anyone could cock this up.  I was wrong.  It was the driest most flavourless thing I've ever tasted.  I think I ate two mouthfuls before deciding it wasn't worth wasting the calories.  My God.  It seemed evident to me that nothing was fresh as the food had obviously been sat under heat lamps for God knows how long.  Yuck.  It was just huge portions of crap.  Honestly, you couldn't pay me to eat there again.  It was awful.  And the whole time I was wondering if it was me that had the problem.  Was I the only one who realised how poor the food was?  Did that officially make me a food snob?  Well apparently not.  After leaving the restaurant the others admitted that they hadn't liked it either.  I was so relieved that it wasn't just me!  I was starting to get worried.  But it turns out that no one really liked it.  Poor food, poor service and bad cocktails.  This is not a good combination.  I won't be going back there.

It's Hot and Chilly

I'm having one of those days where I've got lots to write about and don't know which tale to tell first.  I had a very exciting tale to tell yesterday, but obviously Blogger was down and I couldn't get it out!  I ended up telling Mystical Roo instead.  So I've decided I'll just have to do two posts today to make up for the one that didn't go out yesterday!  So today's tale from yesterday?  Well, I had a successful chilli harvest.  I know!  Exciting news.  I was whipping up a chilli for dinner and with the chillies turning red again, thought I'd throw some in.  Stalky fans may know that my previous chilli harvests have been somewhat disappointing.  So I went out onto the freezing balcony - yes it's bloody cold here at the moment - picked myself a chilli and returned to the kitchen.  I'd already added some chilli flakes to the chilli but set about cutting up the fresh chilli (are you following this?)  Normally I've been scared of trying too much chilli and so would nibble a little bite to see what the heat was like.  With disappointing results I figured I would cut the stem off and give it a good lick.  As you do.  Well, if I was cold before I wasn't after that.  It practically blew my head off!  What a kick.  And I was ecstatic.  I'd actually grown a hot chilli, suitable for the chilli.  A chilli suitable for a chilli.  Love it!  Well this had to be announced and as I said, I couldn't get onto Blogger.  So I launched into the bathroom where Mystical Roo was having a bath and insisted that he too lick the chilli.  He's used to these random requests and so didn't question it.  He gave that chilli a lick and confirmed that yes, it was a successful chilli.  So I chopped the chilli up with my trusty chopper and threw it into the chilli.  Please note that the licked bit was binned.  You never know who might turn up for chilli and with various chilli eaters reading this blog I wouldn't want them to think that I spit in their food.  I do not.  I'd like to confirm that the chilli was a great success.  Hot and flavoursome.  Delicious.  I'm so pleased I've shared that with you all.  It's hugely exciting!  

Little Stalky and Co Become Audience Members

So I mentioned that me and the gang were due to be audience members as part of Australian Top Gear and I bet you’re all keen to find out what happened.   Were there any land dwelling sharks?  Did they let Monster Noggin in?  Is Australian Top Gear as good without Clarkson?  No, Yes and no.  It was a cold night (we’re having weird May winds) when the four of us headed towards Sydney to participate as audience members.  That would be Monster Noggin, Mystical Roo and I, plus a friend who at this point doesn’t have a funky alias.  We shall call him Mr Mechanic.  It sounds jovial.  We turned up at dinner time, which meant we were all hungry.  Luckily some entrepreneurial folk had realised there would be hundreds of hungry people lurking around and so had set up a burger stand.  Nice.   We handed over our tickets and had our arms stamped with the Top Gear logo; proof that we were genuine audience members and not randomers off the street.  I think this is where the land dwelling shark got thwarted.  He didn’t have a stamp.  Get back to your letter box shark boy!  Any hoo, the set was exactly how it looks on TV.  Funny that.  We filmed for several hours, though most of this – as expected – involved us standing around whilst pieces of the set got moved, cars got shifted and presenters sorted themselves out.  We clapped on cue, we laughed on cue and even gasped in “surprise” as an engine was dropped from a height.  Of course we couldn’t see it hanging from the crane…But that’s TV.  I’ve had a number of behind the scenes experiences and have no illusions about how fake the whole thing is.  I must say that the people at Top Gear were certainly the friendliest and did a good job of keeping the audience entertained whilst they got things in place.  I was an extra in King Arthur (grubby peasant 264) – yes, I can be seen on camera – and the people there were just abrupt and rude.  We went to the GMTV thing in Sydney and they only cared about people with babies.  The Top Gear people were appreciative of people giving up their time, for free, to stand around and do as they’re told.   The presenters don’t have anything on Clarkson, Hammond and May, but they’re good in their own unique Australian way.  There I go with the poetry again.  We saw some interesting cars, Monster Noggin saved a man’s life and we saw Jamie Durie – stripper turned gardener and Australia’s answer to Alan Tischmarsh – run through the masses (to much applause) and have a chat with the host.  All in all it wasn’t a bad night and I’m pleased we had the experience but I don’t think we’d do it again.  There was a lot of standing around and on a school night, it was a late finish.  Mystical Roo drove home whilst Monster Noggin and I napped in the back.  And that was our evening.  I know you’re probably thinking, who is Mr Mechanic?  And, who did Monster Noggin save?  But that’s a story for another day.

Step Away from the Aftershave

I think that some people have certain smells.  Some people smell of freshly washed linen, others have that I’ve-just-showered fragrance, whilst some simply just don’t smell bad.  A woman can walk past me and I can admire her perfume; sometimes even recognise it as a personal favourite.  I can snuggle into Mystical Roo’s armpit and it doesn’t smell of BO, it just smells of him.  I’m charming.  But there’s a man out there – and not just one – who just smells rank.  And this isn’t sweaty man smell.  Or grubby man smell.  Or beer and burger man smell.  This is man who has bought cheap aftershave and apparently bathed in it smell.  God I hate that smell.  It always reminds me of the cheesy dude in the bar with too much hair gel with no individuality because he’s wearing the same shirt as about ten other men in the bar.  All of whom are wearing the same God damned cheap aftershave.  I should stop hanging out in bars so much.  Mystical Roo will start to wonder about me.  Anyway, this aftershave is just horrible.  And there’s obviously a lot of it out there because I keep catching whiff of it.  Either that or I’m being stalked.  But it’s everywhere.   In the supermarket, at work, in the shops.  I was actually following (not on purpose) a manky after shave wearer whilst walking home from Woolworths and I nearly choked.  I had to cross the road just to get away from it.  I needed some fresh air.  I don’t know how something can smell cheap and nasty but this stuff does.  It’s not a subtle fragrance, a delicate air of something stylish.  This is a slap you in the face, knock you on your butt, nose wrinkling atrocity.  It’s a plague on the senses.  The next time I catch whiff of this aftershave I’m going to have to question the wearer.  What is the name of this stuff and where does one buy it.  Then I can launch an official protest. 

Technical Issues Continued - Back on Computer but Unable to Write in Anything Other Than the Title Screen - Wonder How Much I Can Write in the Title Screen - And How Long Before Everyone Get Sick of Title Case - Ok I'll stop - Feeling highly frustrated that I am currently unable to blog. I have things to share. Stories to tell! I need my daily fix. I would like to apologise to those awaiting the blog. I'm trying to fix the problem but my IT skills seem insufficient. And I don't think I can spell check in the title so I should stop using big words. I could of course use Word and copy and paste. But that wouldn't be as fun. And can you ever really trust Word? Well probably. But still. I've lost my train of thought. I will continue to work on the problem, whatever the problem happens to be so that I can get back to normal. As normal as possible. Just to let you know, we're off to Sydney tonight to be in the audience of Top Gear. If things start working again I'll let you know how it goes. If not, it will be back to the Title Case again. TTFN

Hey, I'm back!  Whoop whoop!  I was getting a little worried there.  Not being able to post on the blog was sending me a little fruit loopy.  I kept checking it every five minutes to see if I could post but obviously nothing had changed.  I had to force myself to step away.  Crazy.  Apparently the glitch was something to do with a new upgrade which allows bloggers to add their location?  I don't know.  All I know is that it stopped working and now it's working again and that makes Little Stalky rather happy.  So what have I been up to in the 24 hours or so that I haven't been able to post?  Well, not a lot.  I've recently become somewhat addicted to a game on Mystical Roo's phone called Angry Birds.  Flinging angry birds at pigs who are hidden beneath various structures.  It's great fun.  Other than that I have been preparing the house for its inspection tomorrow.  The house now smells clean and looks tidy.  Just got to keep it that way until tomorrow.  But as I mentioned, we're off to be audience members tonight so hopefully there's not too much risk of us creating a mess.  Not unless the possum gets in.  Lock the doors! 

Technical Issues - Can't Post - Having Withdrawl Symptoms - Communicating on Phone - Through Title - Using Title Case - Must Reach My Fans!!!

Potential Possum Activity



A possum from Pretty Beach.  But does he
have a taste for pegs?



So there's been some mysterious activity on the balcony and I'm not talking about the caterpillars.  I had done some washing but being the forgetful Little Stalky that I am, had forgotten to retrieve said washing for the night.  The next morning I went out to get the laundry from the line and realised there had been a peg massacre over night.  There were pegs everywhere.  Absolutely everywhere.  The peg basket, which had previously been hooked to the line was now on the floor.  There were pegs scattered every which way.  There were pegs on the floor.  Pegs on the table.  Pegs in the washing basket.  Even a rogue peg in a plant pot.  Yet nothing else had been disturbed.  The plastic watering cans, normally first to escape at the vaguest hint of wind, were still in place.  The plants were fine (thank God).  The garden chairs were still.  But there were pegs everywhere.  Mystical Roo came out to assess the scene and confirmed with a nod that he suspected night time possum activity.  Possums?  With my pegs?  Possums playing with pegs?  Pesky possums playing with pegs?  I had not been aware that our balcony was prone to possum activity.  I have never seen a possum on our balcony.  Mystical Roo is pretty sure that he caught sight of a possum one night.  Just a glimpse.  Fleeing into the shadows.  With a peg in paw?  He wasn't sure.  But looking at the evidence Mystical Roo figured it looked like a possum had been up to no good.  Flinging peg baskets around.  Lobbing pegs.  What was it, some kind of peg fight?  I retrieved my pegs and returned them to the safety of the peg basket.  As yet there hasn't been a repeat incident.  But who knows what tonight will bring.  As long as the possum sticks to the pegs and leaves the plants alone then I'll be happy.  

Little Stalky and Mystical Roo Return to the Hungry Duck

I don't mean to go on - but I will anyway - but the Hungry Duck in Berry is officially the best restaurant in the world ever!  Ever!  Mystical Roo and I leapt on the chance to use our gift voucher and booked ourselves a table for two on Thursday night.  It was perfect.  Eating the most amazing food, drinking a nice glass of wine (no Lambrusco in sight), chatting with my Mystical Roo; all of this for two and half hours.  We had our first experience of raw fish in the form of tuna served with wild wasabi and fish roe.  I like to think of myself as an adventurous kind of foodie and so dove straight in.  It was beautiful.  So flavoursome.  The perfect taste and texture.  After that we had a tempura zucchini flower with a soy dipping sauce.  Divine.  Then - possibly my favourite dish - the amazing pork dumplings.  Words cannot describe the taste of these heavenly morsels.  Then we were on to a serving of king fish and a side dish of green beans with cashew nuts and a buttery sauce that tastes so good I had to step away from the spoon just to stop myself from drinking it.  We then had an alpaca - yes that's an alpaca - curry.  Who knew you could eat alpaca.  Well apparently you can.  And yes, it's delicious!  I'd liken it to duck.  Tender and tasty.  We finished the evening with a dessert both sweet and light and amazing.  Mine came in the form of a trifle.  Mystical Roos was...well I can't remember.  But I remember the taste!  And it was good.  We topped all of this off with a rather special cup of coffee before heading home for the night.  It was a dining delight!  If you weren't hungry when you started reading this, I bet you are now! 

Cunning Caterpillars

Those god damned caterpillars are up to their tricks again.  But this time they're being sneaky.  They're working undercover.  They're munching my plants, they're leaving their caterpillar poop and then they're disappearing before I can find them.  Whilst before they would blatantly lounge on the leaves, shaking their horns and growling at me, now they're scurrying away before I can deal with them.  Sneaky.  And highly pesky.  Neither I nor my plants appreciate their munching antics.  It's just not cool.  They've been at the lemon tree, at the basil plant and at the mint.  Nibbling their way through the leaves and generally being a pain in the bum.  These caterpillars are waging war on my garden.  Why can't they just go and munch on that pesky bamboo next door.  It's obviously not as tasty as my amazing plants.  I've had the spray out again - the spray that I keep forgetting the name of - and this does seem to do the trick.  I've certainly noticed less poop and no new holes so I think the caterpillars have been deterred for the time being.  I can see I'm going to have to monitor the situation.  Maybe if I catch them in the act I can make an example of one of them and scare the others off.  Bad caterpillar activity will not be tolerated.  Not in my garden. 

Broccoli Etiquette

Mystical Roo and I have recently started some covert broccoli snapping activity.  Covert broccoli snapping activity, I hear you ask.  Yes.  And it all started with an old lady.  Mystical Roo was out shopping in our favourite supermarket, yes it's Woolworths (let me hear a whoop whoop!) and he was minus his Little Stalky.  I was elsewhere.  Probably at work.  Anyway, from what Mystical Roo tells me, he was approached by an elderly lady who, noticing that Mystical Roo is a strapping young man, asked for his assistance.  She was buying broccoli but didn't want to pay for the additional weight caused by the stalk.  What was the point in paying for something you wouldn't use.  Mystical Roo reasoned that this was sensible.  So she asked Mystical Roo if he would kindly snap off the unwanted stalk as she was unable to do it herself.  Mystical Roo had figured at this point that if the old lady said it was ok then it must be ok.  He respects his elders you know.  And he's not the type to bow to authority and it's crazy broccoli standards.  So Mystical Roo snapped that broccoli stalk.  He snapped that stalk and he wasn't sorry for doing it.  It's not like it was wrong.  It couldn't be if the old lady said it was ok.  We've now accepted that this is the done thing - I've noticed several stumps laying discarded amongst the pile of broccoli - so this is now what we do.  When the mood takes us, when we feel the need for the broccoli, I'll scout out a decent looking broccoli, give Mystical Roo the nod and then off comes the stalk.  It's a broccoli revolution.

May Update From Little Stalky's Garden



Looking stylish in white tubs



So we're now right in the middle of Autumn and the plants seem to be adjusting to the season.  Actually most of them just seem  to be continuing as normal but I can tell that the tomato plants have nearly had their time.  They've been happily producing a huge number of tomatoes but now they're wilting, their leaves are dropping and there is no more fruit.  Soon they'll move on to plant heaven where there's always sunshine, a nice bit of rain and plenty of tomato feed.  And no caterpillars.  They've had a good innings and I'll certainly plant some more in Spring.  The rest of the garden, as I said, seems to be continuing as normal.  The thing I have noticed though, is that the basil plant has become huge.  Just massive.  He looks so green and bushy.  I'm rather proud.  The oregano too is doing very well and looks nice and healthy.  I can confirm that both of these herbs also taste delicious.  We've taken a couple of cuttings now and used them as topping on Mystical Roo's homemade pizza.  Simply delicious.  I highly recommend it.  The mint is doing it's thing, plotting world domination, the lemon tree is definitely getting bigger, the rosemary is working had at growing bushier, the thyme continues to be massive and the chilli plant's second wave of chillies are starting to turn red.  I'm happy.

Little Stalky Tackles Mystical Roo's Wardrobe

Yesterday I went on a bit of cleaning mission and ended up tidying the house for about 7 hours straight, stopping only once for a tracker bar.  By the time I'd finished I was stiff, tired and somewhat hungry.  But I'd got into the swing of things and couldn't stop half way through.  And it's not like the house was a mess or anything, I just seemed to keep finding little jobs to do.  It started with the weekly chores and turned into a huge clear out, which resulted in the bedroom being decluttered and me tackling the ultimate task:  cleaning out Mystical Roo's wardrobe.  Mystical Roo's wardrobe has been in a state of disarray for months now.  It got to the point where I had to tackle the damn thing or else all of my ironing efforts would keep going to waste.  Firstly I decided to allocate Mystical Roo a drawer specifically for pants and socks.  Because quite frankly a top drawer full of old business cards, receipts, empty packets and random tools is not a drawer well used.  Instead, all of this stuff got chucked in a box.  Mystical Roo may or may not need this stuff but seeing as how it's been sitting at the bottom of a drawer since we moved in I figure it will be just as happy in a box.  If Mystical Roo can't find anything then he can look in the box.  So a drawer of pants and socks was created.  And I was happy.  Until I moved onto the next task of pulling out all of Mystical Roo's clothes and rearranging them.  By this point the clothes were no longer folded.  All there was was a heap.  Just a heap.  So the heap had to come out and the clothes had to be refolded.  Then I had to get the clothes on the top shelf of the wardrobe.  The top shelf which I'm too short to reach.  So, much jumping and grabbing and falling and cursing.  After removing the pile - the big pile - I thought I'd try and create some sort of order.  T-shirts worn on a regular basis, t-shirts worn on a less regular basis, jeans and shorts, work trousers, work tops, fluorescent work tops, warm work tops, random thermals that were bought for a trip to Russia but need somewhere to live regardless, sportswear, football shirts worn on a regular basis, football shirts worn on a less regular basis.  It seems to me that Mystical Roo has a hell of a lot of clothes.  The only trouble is, only half of it fits him anymore!  Still, I think I succeeded in creating order and was pleased to show the results to Mystical Roo.  Who, by the way, has promised to try to keep things tidy.  To try.  We'll see.  For the time being I'm happy to have a spotless house.  Evidence of a hard days work.  That and a really stiff back. 

Little Stalky Sets the Oven on Fire

There are certain meals that are Mystical Roo meals and there are certain meals that are Little Stalky meals.  One of the meals that fall in Mystical Roo's corner is bread crumbed fish.  But on the night we had defrosted the cod for this very meal, Mystical Roo got held up with work and with his ETA set for around 20.00 it fell to Little Stalky to get the dinner on.  I have no problem with this.  Except for the fish.  One of the main reasons this dish falls in Mystical Roo's corner?  The god damned fish.  I don't like fish at the best of times, let alone when I have to handle them.  And yes, this fish was just a fillet.  It didn't even look like a fish anymore.  It had been boned.  But it hadn't been scaled.  And looking at the fillets of fish waiting for me I knew I would have to handle the fish and in turn handle the scales.  I can't quite describe how this makes me feel.  But my body will physically try to stop me from touching the fish.  My skin goes all tingly and I have to psych myself up to pick the thing up.  I then have to zone out and imagine I'm touching anything other than fish scales.  A bit of steak, a bit of chook, a bit of anything other than a fish.  Why does it freak me out so much?  I have no idea.  I'm a little bit weird.  Mystical Roo had left me instructions on how to breadcrumb the fish - bit of egg, bit of flour, some breadcrumbs, but I had the feeling I wasn't doing it quite right.  Maybe it was because I was in such a rush to stop touching the fish.  The flour went kind of sticky yet the breadcrumbs wouldn't actually stick to anything.  Hmm.  I think I was so keen to make the fish look less like fish that I got a bit carried away with the breadcrumbs.  Maybe this was why the fish seemed to take a while to cook.  But things turned out ok and Mystical Roo came home, had a shower and was served a vaguely edible meal of bread crumbed fish, sweet potato wedges and broccoli.  What happened next was both surprising and disturbing.  I was sat at the table, munching on the fish when something caught my eye.  A little flicker of light in the kitchen.  Then a bigger flicker of light.  Then a flame.  Then it dawned on me that the oven was on fire.  I turned to Mystical Roo and quite calmly announced that the oven was on fire.  Mystical Roo, heroic as ever, leapt to his feet and confirmed that yes the oven was on fire.  He turned it off, opened the door and as it turns out was able to blow out the fire with several lungfuls of breath.  A relief because I wouldn't have been impressed if I'd managed to burn the kitchen down.  A concern because the electric oven had managed to set itself on fire.  I'd actually forgotten to turn the oven off and it seems that something had dripped onto the bottom of the oven and ignited.  Needless to say oven cleaning is now at the top of my list of things to do.

Things Get Muddy

Well we've just returned home from 24 hours at Relay for Life and we're exhausted.  And rather muddy.  But our little town has done good and we've raised over $100,000 for the Cancer Council.  Unfortunately the weather decided to put a dampener on things this year and after a brief glimpse of sunshine the heavens opened and the rain set in for a good few hours.  The result of heavy rain, grass and hundreds of people walking round and round in a circles?  A hell of a lot of mud.  I had prepared for such an eventuality and was kitted out in waterproof trousers, jacket and the all important leopard print wellies.  I was therefore able to trudge through the mud with little difficulty.  Not so easy for those in trainers and poor Mystical Roo and Monster Noggin got very cold and wet feet.  It got to the point where most people were walking around with bare feet.  It was a shame the ground got so boggy because it made walking difficult and in the end health and safety took precedence and the walking was stopped.  With the sun down and the ground showing no signs of drying it was just becoming unsafe to continue.  But even though the walking was stopped we stayed for the whole night and camped out amongst the mud.  Everyone was in high spirits and the fundraising continued despite the walk itself being stopped.  Mystical Roo and I paid $10 to enter a trivia competition and I'm pleased to confirm that we won.  We actually won!  A lot of effort went in to that and it paid off as we were rewarded with a bottle of wine and a $90 gift voucher for the Hungry Duck in Berry.  Result!  So we might have been covered in mud, cold and pretty tired but for $100,000 for Charity and $90 for us, I think it was worth it.