How is it, that we seem to accumulate so much STUFF ?
I almost feel embarrassed at the amount of useless junk that is tucked away in this house ‘just in case’ …. So today, while finding homes for a couple of lovely birthday gifts, I was thrown into that ‘moving deckchairs on the Titanic’ spin.
Now I’m pretty good at being ruthless, can easily discard stuff and clear those decks … but somehow the stuff just comes back. And the time has to be just right… today just wasn’t that day.
I opened cupboards and draws to discover stuff that I had completely forgotten…. and have probably forgotten again, 8 hours later…..stuff that I no longer like … stuff that I never did like…and stuff that no longer serves a purpose….so WHY do I need all this STUFF ?
Yeah, I know I’m beginning to sound like a hoarder … but no I’m actually far from that, I’m just an outa-sight-outa-mind kinda girl, so once things are securely stashed… I’m likely to overlook them (unless they’re a daily essential). I love to be surrounded with a minimum of clutter, so the temptation to hide things if there’s a gap or a bit of cupboard space is very tempting. I’ll find a way to fill it, stash it, or jam it in, in an effort to maintain the calm visual exterior.
BUT I feel a massive cupboard detox coming ~ just waiting on those planets to align and then …charity bin look out ….again !!
Unless you have been living under a rock, you will know that the Rolling Stones have made the trip Down Under, and are currently here in Aus about to start their tour in Adelaide. That in itself is pretty amazing on so many levels …. not-the-least-of-which is imagining this bunch of septuagenarians rocking it on stage !!
But equally as curious was the fresh faced young reporter in her late 20’s who introduced the story on morning TV… and who excitedly reported that ‘the boys’ had been strutting their stuff wildly in rehearsal. What a crack-up …. I mean for them to call each other ‘boys’ is one thing …. BUT when they could be your grandfathers ??? (..mind you, I’ll bet ‘the boys’ love it.)
Which brings me to the fish market.
On my way home I stopped to grab some fish (as you might in a fish market). I was served by 2 sweet young women (mmm maybe somewhere around 15yrs and 17yrs). Both helpful, attentive and came complete with ‘westie bogan twangs’ …All was well until one of them called me ‘daarl’ …and then the other called me ‘sweetie’ . I mean… what’s with that ???
Don’t get me wrong… this is not about me wanting respect, based on my tender ‘50Something’ years ….it’s the bizarreness of our language, and the sense of familiarity exuded by two young some-ones from whom I just bought one slimy sea creature.
I don’t think it quite constitutes friendship …or even stronger still, an intimacy that might call for words like ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’…. Maybe I’m wrong…but it’s got me wondering.
While engrossed in domestic chores today, I began to wonder about the seeming abundance of dead flies that needed sucking up the head of the vacuum cleaner. Now, it’s not as if I haven’t swept or sucked for months, in fact it’s only been a week…and yet today there were a small number of fly corpses lying on the carpet in front of each of the loungeroom windows.
I imagine that they made their sneaky entrance over the weekend when the spring weather was warm, and the doors were open to welcome it inside.
What I can’t fathom is why they were dead !!
Don’t get me wrong I was thrilled that they were …. BUT it looked as though they were headed for the windows in an effort to escape…but for some reason, they perished en route.It’s not as if I had pulled my usual trick of adding to the hole in the ozone layer by drowning the flighty creatures with insect spray ….so what killed them ?
I know stuff …. but I don’t know that !!
So… there I was preparing to head out for the day with Mr 50Something, when I sense he is becoming a little toe-y. I heard the pacing and the car keys rattling and knew instantly that I was getting the ‘hurry-up’, so rather than finish the job properly, I figured I add the final touches in the car.
I emerge from the bathroom ready to go and he looked at me quizzically…
‘ummm … you look good …BUT …you haven’t finished ‘colouring in!’
I replied that I had my paint box and tools and that I would complete the work of art en-route…
He was then completely amused as he watched the portrait take shape layer upon layer on the blank canvas. A hint of colour here and a touch of gloss there, extra fibres for eyelashes, tinted gel for those (ever important) eyebrows, a defining edge for the lips and finally a quick powder dusting to set the lot.
Done … from ‘early morning bedroom’ face to ‘happy to be seen in public’ face in only 2kms….. and with endless commentary from the man who first questioned what was missing and then proceeded to ask ‘why do you bother with all this’ ?…. sigh…. Because I’m 50Something but not dead yet !!!
…do whatever I want ;-)
Around 11.45pm on this day 56 years ago, a somewhat chunky baby with a thick mop of red hair fell ( well almost) into the world. …not that I remember it, but it was one of those great stories that my Dad loved to share. (Had I waited just another 15 minutes they wouldn’t have been charged for an extra day in hospital… but no I was in a hurry), there was no crossing legs to save a few dollars where Mum was concerned.
Anyway the rest is history ….and here we are.
I’ve never been one to worry about age …after all it’s just a number and means very little, BUT I must admit to feeling just a teeny pang at having fallen into the wrong side of my 5th decade.
55 was fine …neither early 50’s or late 50’s …. but 56 has just tipped the scales to the dark side, and, as was pointed out today …into the next check-box on most surveys. eeek (maybe I’ll just lie – rather than be categorised in the 56-70yr age bracket).
Anyway … life is good and certainly better than the alternative …. I’m still 50Something but not dead yet !
A little toilet tale with a twist …. I’m not complaining about lack of loo paper or failing pelvic floor muscles, nor am I commenting on the cost of inflation hitting the humble toilet roll …. or any other cubicle contemplation for that matter.No… tonight it’s all about cleaning…and where is YOUR line in the sand ?
After a good squirt of sweet smelling, disinfectant that’s guaranteed to ‘give your bowl that extra sparkle’... I proceeded to giving it a good scrub. BUT in my enthusiasm, I lost the lid of the cleaning gel in the loo.
Without a moment of hesitation, I dived my bare hand in to retrieve said lid, before it vanished around the S bend …where it would be guaranteed to cause harm to our enviro-cycle.
It was a completely selfless rescue, no second thoughts at all, but it did make me wonder who would shake my hand if they knew?
I have recently (like 3 days ago) discovered the magic of ‘White Tea’ … not the kind the you’ve added milk to… but the pale cousin of green tea.
If you believe anything you read …
‘Lotus Peak White Tea is the pinnacle of sophistication with an unmatched subtlety, complexity and mellow sweet notes once reserved for Emperors and Nobility’
(all I know is that it really does taste good)
Which is why I was so devastated to discover a teabag malfunction this afternoon….Having steeped for the requisite 3 minutes I headed to the quiet corner of the garden for my moment of indulgence. About to take my first sip I soon realised that the subtle, complex and mellow sweet notes of sophistication had spilled forth into my cup.
BUT not to be beaten I managed to strain the warm brew through my teeth.
(probably not the way of the Emperors, but tasty nevertheless)
so…if you get a chance ~ join the nobility