Those of you who have been keeping up with my daily nonsense will be aware of my fear around changing hairdressers…. this might just help you to understand the reason for some of my anxiety.
Now I didn’t set foot inside.. I just parked at the door… but hey if I was an Age Persioner I might just be tempted.
(my three favourite topics…hair…signage …and spelling errors… all in one post!)
The whole concept of satellite navigation systems is hard for 
my tiny brain to grasp. I mean, who has the job of entering every new street and every building into the data base ?… and who teaches Siri (or in our case….Homer) how to say all these new names?
Homer Simpson has been living inside our tiny Tom Tom for years…He has steered us around town with remarkable accuracy…made small talk… and even ad libbed the odd joke (albeit with a really annoying voice)
… but HOW does he know where to go?
I just wonder ….?
Driving home tonight I looked up and saw the amazing full moon…. then thought to myself …mmm where else have I seen that today?
Not once or twice …but THREE times in the one day I have had ‘full moons’ inflicted on me in the form of oversized, white and very very hairy male buttocks. What’s with that???
The first was a large and lovely young man who was helping load some things into my 
car… As he bent into the back seat his ‘less-than-designer’ grey trakkie dacks crept waaay too low revealing waaay too much flesh and suggesting that there were no undies anywhere to be seen.
I soon got on with my day and headed to a meeting. There I met another ‘extra-generously’ proportioned young man who pulled up a chair to sit beside me. As he did HIS low-rise ill fitting jeans snuck well below his ‘crackline’ where they stayed for the entire gathering. (I must admit the ’50Something’ mother in me was just as worried 
about him being cold, as I was about his flesh oozing for the world to see).
Finally as I was heading back to the office, I passed a third heavyweight gent. He zipped past me on a motorbike with both cheeks hanging out and his jacket flapping in the wind…
It got me to wondering if this is some kind of sign … and if so what on this earth (or moon) it is???
As I have mentioned several times … I’m a ‘words’ person not a ‘numbers’ person.
So whenever I am out and about I can’t help but notice the them … signs, numberplates & adverts ….words are everywhere, and where they’re not there I make them up (sounding a bit like a Rainman now eh?) .
But I often wonder how many other people read what they THINK they see rather than what’s really there….you know like seeing ‘shopfitters’ …. but reading ‘shoplifters’ ???.. go on admit it, you know you do…(I hope).
These days though, there is the added challenge of working out cryptic business names…. you know the ones that someone (often when they were drunk) thought were really ‘funny’ or clever names and they turn out to be completely obscure or lame in the light of day.
My favourites are the ones that run the words together into one long nonsensical word. Not like a portmanteaus which can be clever (think ‘labradoodle’ or ‘californication’) ….but more like a wordsaladorjumblewordstryingtopull them apart at the right spot to see what is actually there.
Today I followed billthewindowman.. and had myself convinced that it was something to do with a blind woman… mmm I wonder how much business you get if people can’t figure what your name is?
I have never pretended to be a naturist or have a very good handle on anything living …(other than people…I like to think). BUT it occurred to me today just how little I know about spiders.
Not that I think it is an essential field of study … or that it is even particularly interesting …..BUT this morning I spied some of the biggest cobwebs I have ever seen. Spanning more than 2 meters between trees…they were massive, yet there was not a hint of the creatures responsible for putting them there.
Clearly these massive construction efforts happen overnight, presumably in an effort to trap their prey, but I wonder just where the owners disappear to when the sun comes up ? …Now, while I don’t particularly “like” them, I am not an arachnophobe… BUT all the same, I couldn’t help but keep a sharp eye out as I passed by these amazing works of art, fearful that we might meet when I least expect it
I also contemplated what a waste of effort for the poor little critters … tomorrow they will have moved on and need to start spinning their homes all over again… I have never thought it before, but its a rough job having 8 legs and hanging around in silk all night.
Another day of road tripping across the great Aussie countryside and I was struck by so many things.
BUT on a serious note … I have been wondering about birds. With the wide open spaces and huge skies, you can’t help but notice the small things. One of which was the formation… and flight of flocks of birds.
Now I am not an ornithologist, so I have no idea what kind they are….. but on our drive from Swan Hill to Beechwood today, we were entertained by many flocks of birds that looked like they were in training for the synchronised swimming events at the next Olympics.
At first it was like seeing sign-writing in action, soon we realised that it was in fact birds…. and I couldn’t help but wonder WHY???
Who is the leader? how does he/she decide the formation? What happens when they get tired …and WHAT IS THE POINT???
As entertaining as this whole thing was…. I really want to understand the purpose….and what happens when one or more don’t want to play ?? where do THEY go??
I wonder …..?
So many kilometres…so many observations.
Its been a day of huge skies and open space with a few quirky and notable localities…I wont call them towns …because I always imagine that towns are alive and house people… not so in many of the addresses we passed.
The most amusing was “Galore”.. a teeny location with a sign to identify that we were in fact there …one house…and a community hall. It was amusing from the point of view that when I googled a definition of the word we found:
aplenty, in abundance, in profusion, in great quantity, in large numbers, by the dozen
Ironic ??mmm I think someone goofed 😉
We had a very pleasant day soaking up the country air and taking in the sights of the Riverina … but as usual I was prompted to wonder about the meaning of life. The life of a sheep that is …
Driving along, the vast paddocks spread for miles on both sides of the long straight road…and you can’t help but notice the 
clusters of strangely proportioned creatures whose lives seem somewhat meaningless as they wander aimlessly.
I watched as there seemed to be no real pattern to their movements…and despite the saying that we follow like a bunch of sheep.. THEY didn’t seem to be following anyone. There they were in small groups (family groupings?? I wondered) in the middle of no-where. What a strange existence.
I wonder what they think ?…. I mean..DO they think at all ? (I’m sure they must) I wonder what they wonder while they just hang around waiting to be shorn or turned into a BBQ.
Well four full on days of Uni are done… World Voice Day is beginning to wind down… “Mr 50Something” has arrived in Wagga Wagga (down the road from Gumly Gumly) and its time for some road trippin….time to get out there and absorb real regional Australia.
Funny how we all jump at the chance to fly the globe and see what the big wide world has to offer … while right here on our doorstep, there is so much to see. I must admit to being guilty as charged to an extent, however this little sojourn will retrace one of my early life adventures….
My talent for causing all sorts of medical curiosities began down this way some 42 years ago while on a family caravanning holiday. I became ill on Christmas Day in Swan Hill.. and was rushed into the local (and VERY regional) hospital where they managed to drag the local Butcher (oops I mean Surgeon) away from his pork crackling to come and remove my appendix.
That in itself is a reasonable story …but add the fact that it was 43 degrees and my family (and other travelling companions) were stuck in the local caravan park for 2 weeks while I went on to develop a massive infection, and have my belly explode open….(SPLATT!!)… made it quite an adventure.
OOPS! Swan Hill WAS meant to be an overnight pit-stop.
I have vivid memories of Dad visiting daily ‘to keep me company’ wearing his dark sunglasses and finding the comfy chair in the corner so he could be cool and have a snooze. More power to him I say … because I STUNK… I mean like rotten meat (damn that butcher), He always was my hero !! 😉
Anyway all these year later , and by a series of very odd ‘coincidences’ I discover that the hospital is located on “Splatt St” … So what??? I here you ask .. Well Splatt is my Mum’s maiden name (and, lets face it, not exactly Smith or Jones)… something tells me I need to visit… so here we go with a sense of adventure and fingers crossed..
This morning when I was jumping into my nifty little hire car to head off to the classroom for another day of growing my brain…I was suddenly hit with panic. I COULDN’T FIND THE CUP HOLDER !! 
OMG What would I do with my take away skim milk, extra hot, extra shot, decaf cappuccino??
Who (in these days of all things instant gratification), would design a car that deprived me of my ‘coffee to go’? I couldn’t possibly wait until I drove 10 minutes up the road.
But relax… of course Mr Toyota had my best interest at heart, and after a little poking to see what popped, a cup holder appeared right there at my fingertips.
Phew.. crisis averted (great start to the day that crisis intervention was our hot topic of learning).
Wonder Years 