International Women's Day - Ho Hum

Today will be the day for every media outlet to pop up with some pleasant words about the worth of women and point out how either women's lots have improved or declined over the last little while or throughout history. And the focus will be thought provoking and interesting and with any luck at all it might actually encourage one or two young women to stand up for themselves.

The big problem that I see in all this is similar to Mothers' day and Fathers' day. It is ridiculous to use up a year's attention in ONE day. Showering all your love on a parent for oh lets say at a push 8 hours once a year, is not the idea at all. And a world that lines up Hallmark to allow this to happen is more than a little sad, but that is the way of our world. My Girl loves me All year not just on Mother's day and that's the way it aught to be.

International Women's Day is an excuse for the world to forget about women's issues for 364 days because on this ONE special special day they are discussed. This I fear is more than a little self defeating.

So today we will no doubt see sanctimonious politicians spruiking about the wonders of women and tomorrow they can all go back to ignoring us, filling their front benches with beards and making life very difficult for women rearing the hopes of tomorrow. Today we will see media barons pontificate proudly about the women in their employ and tomorrow they can continue to plaster their pages with pics of headless boobed bodies. Today a man might curtail that 'friendly slap' but tomorrow he will have forgotten all that tripe as he swings again. The women living in poverty all around the globe might be spotlighted today only to be forgotten tomorrow.

I reckon it is passed time that women stand up for themselves 365 days a year, and stop waiting for someone else to lead the charge. If women expected more they would have more. The old adage, 'You get what you settle for' could not be more true for women.

Quotas and other government legislation will not improve the lot of women, we need to do this ourselves, as individuals. We need to stop all the infighting and listening to the media about what we should look like and how we should behave. We need to just get out there and mow our own path.

If our daughters sit around and WAIT for the next International Women's Day to cure all their ills they will be a long time dead.

Instead of marching or protesting or petitioning for change, I reckon it is time we encouraged our daughters themselves, to be the vehicles of change. If they want something they should go out and get it, they should not sit idly by waiting for someone to consider them worthy.

So Mothers' Day, Fathers' Day and Valentines' Day,  all those bloody 'Days', be buggered, International Women's Day included. Yeh lets get rid of 'em all and as individuals declare what is important, and then strive to achieve it.

Get rid off 'em all, except of course birthdays cos I do love a pressie and a bit of cake on my B.Day.

007 Might not be happy with this interpretation.

 

There's a competition at the RQAS and the pieces have to be done very soon. It's in conjunction with the Gold Coast Film Festival and the entrants have been asked to 're-imagine' a film.

Now when I first saw this I thought it was 're-image' a film, and that meant no more to me. I am not sure why the title needs to be quite so obscure, perhaps then artists can submit just about anything and it'll be ok.

The entry form goes on for about 1 and a half A4 pages listing all the terms and conditions so I guess it's important to be a bit loose somewhere. One of the conditions is that there is no theft of 'intellectual property'. I have had a go at re-imagining a 007 poster changing the anorexic girlie into someone more 'real' I am not sure about the intellectual property condition and whether or not I have breached this. I have to sign that I have not breached this condition and I haven't any clue ... oh shit, just sign it. Too much agonising over it all cannot be good for the artwork surely.

It's possible that I am very wide of the mark, but it does make me giggle so it can't be a bad thing can it?

I have replaced the guns with cakes and I think I'll call it, 'The World is Not Enough - Eat More Cake!' I am trying to decide if I should put the text on it like a film poster, but I reckon that would be testing my ability and could possibly bugger it up altogether.

It feels almost finished and I hope that unlike the one in the background which I butchered, I can leave this one well enough alone before I do any damage. Only time will tell on that score.

Even if this doesn't turn out to be worth the $25 entry fee, I certainly am enjoying painting again.

Backyard Swans

 

Occasionally I look out and see a lovely bird, one which I am not tempted to set Dog onto. The shitting ugly ibis barely count as birds. They are just scavengers and are hideous and just take to shittting great piles of liquid gooop all down the fences and on the glass and around the pool and all over the pontoon.  Picnic makers in the park stand and applaud when we let Dog out and she runs like a demon to rid her domain of all these great white shitting machines, and so leave the folk to a peaceful feed of fish and chips.

I am not sure she differentiates between them and other birds so as we have been entertaining a large flock swans this week I have been careful to keep her well away while I feed them. Today however I let her come onto the pontoon with me and even though they hissed and were a little reluctant to come too close the swans and Dib seemed to manage to co-exist well enough.

From just a couple the group has grown to 7 and they are majestic as they glide over the water. Oddly enough though their feet are quite gumby under the water and they frantically paddle away like a man running on 1 leg, a hand and a trunk- all a bit lopsided and un-co. 

Dog is injured at present and we are off to the vet this afternoon to hopefully find she has just been too exuberant in her pursuit of the ibis, and that a few days of taking it easy will see her back to normal. If that is the case then I suppose the swans will really have to watch out, cos she doesn't do sitting still very well and with a few days' pent up energy I reckon she will see BIRD and just go like the clappers.

The swans are lovely, but not an enticement to living any more rural than this. I reckon if necessary I could enjoy watching them on the tellie and save some money on bread. Greenies cover your eyes when I say that this morning I had no bread so did a bit of a Marie Antoinette and fed 'em croissants instead. Please don't comment on the sugar and the butter and the 'not breadness' of it all. I know. I just wanted them to know they could expect food here if they come back tomorrow.

Yeh I have bread for the morning.

Shopping on a Mission

I used to LOVE shopping. It was something I could do all day for days at a time, go home bag less and still be pleased with the outing.

Later I thought success was measured in the need to make multiple trips to the car to throw in parcels and then head back into the fray or to catch a cab home, rather than go on the bus - back in my London days.

Now it is like a military expedition. I do the research online and on the phone first and then go directly to the shops needed and then home. Of course there is always time for coffee. If at all possible and delivery time permits the computer is my best friend.

Today delivery was not an option.

Today's job was a mattress protector and a canvas for a piece I want to try for a competition.

The canvas shop at Pac Fair has closed to make way for the expansion work. I do wonder how it happens that someone figures the centre is failing with too few customers, so if they taking out parking spaces and put in more shops more people will come, but then I am not an economic genius by any means.

This meant that I had to go to Robina shops for the sister canvas store. I knew all this from my preliminary www... research.

I went to David Jones for the mattress protector first, but as I expected the thing was all cotton and enough money to buy a small car, so I left it there and headed to the 2 bedding shops just outside. Both had what I wanted but the first ones were too short on the sides and the second one came with an addendum which required me to buy a pillow that I didn't want to enable me to get the discount which if applied sans pillow would have made it about the right money! I hate that sort of con! So another failure.

I did not pass go on my hustle to the Art shop. SCORE! As I walked in there was a big sign saying 30% off everything and when I asked if that meant the canvases too, the sign came down and I was told, 'No it's an old sign.'  I am pretty sure that legally I could have jumped up and down, but I just wanted the bloody canvas so I stood and tried to convert the INCHES into CMs and finally decided what I needed, I asked for it, and bugger me if that size was the only one they didn't have....SHIT SHIT SHIT. Why are the Chinese making canvases using imperial measurements.

So far I was 0 for 2.

I headed to the other side of the centre still looking for bedding, and I found what I wanted and it was on sale except that they didn't have the right size. The woman was wonderful and she rang the local to me shop and they had it and would keep it aside for me. YIPPEE!

SO no coffee cos I was on a mission now. Back to the car and homeward bound. Into the local shops and there it was the mattress protector, 100% cotton and on sale, and just as serendipity would have it, the local shit shop also had a canvas the right size for silly money so now I was 2 for 2.

I really should have just had some faith in LOCAL.

I sty a little lump in my eye

All the madness of the last month has led to this moment. A bloody great sty in my eye. Now I have not had one since I was a little girl. Shit they hurt!

I went off to the chemist and spoke to the pharmacist thinking that in 2014 there wold be some instant cure, and you know what, yeh bugger me there is not.

She suggested that I could try alternating hot and cold compresses. And then when it get really ugly in about a week there is something else I could try - the stuff for conjunctivitis but she wouldn't bother, she would just let my body heal itself.

How can this be possible is what I want to know. With all the medical breakthroughs I am told I have to have this honking sore thing for a week!!

While I was there I asked about the new treatments for fungal toenails....yeh I know that is even more disgusting to think about than the eye sty. Just be pleased that I have not included any photos. About 6 weeks ago I saw Dr Jane and she said tutt tutt tutt about going to those asian foot supermarkets and sticking your feet in what almost certainly is fungal heaven. So she prescribed a routine of appling stuff twice a day for 2 months. It's not making any damn difference, so I thought I'd try something else. The new stuff sounds FABO. I really am a product of advertising. The new stuff ranges in price between $60 and $100 and still takes about a lifetime!! Now I can understand why Dr Jane suggested ripping off the nail. It must surely mean that the waiting game is shorter, though I do believe I lack courage.

So I am rotting from top to toe, literally, but ohh what a lovely month it has been. February is always hectic with Belly and Zig's big days, but it's a wonderful hectic, even if it leaves me a little dented.

What a Hoot!! You might need a cuppa and a little sit down.

Whew are we glad this is a once a year thing!! I was gonna say EVENT, but that has really just  become such a wanky term. I went to a party at a farm once and was told by the host that he was too busy organising the EVENT to be civil. I reckon that's the sort of people who say it.

Anyway I got stupid lost on the way to collect Zig from his father's place and then said father pretended not to be sure of the collection arrangements...ho hum. Finally he delivered Zig in his school uniform from Friday, with the bleary eyes of a kid who had had 3 hours sleep and no breakfast. Way to go on the sabotage, feckless father!

We made our way to Mum and she took the little fella home for a shower and change while I started with the final prep at the park. Filling water bombs is an art that I can now proudly record on my CV. Yeh I got a bit moist, not in a good way, but 30 were filled and tied ready to go.

The kids arrived and Bell went into action. She ran those kids like a well oiled machine! She had her prize bag and a schedule and more energy than I could have mustered.

Pass the Parcel with a Belly twist, egg and spoon relays, NO CHEATING!!, water bomb relays and then fights, and up to play 'Wet Head' - a game where the kid wears a water tower on their heads and other kids pull out rods which might or might not release a torrent of water onto the first kid. Yeh they all got pretty wet. Things escalated and much water was thrown and I do believe the park tap was not up to the constant use of 9 year olds and the handle thing, 'Just fell off Bell.'

I cooked the sausages for the sizzle and took pics and hoped that neither of the epi-pens that had been delivered would be needed.

Then the car races were organised. The drop at the cliff face is pretty severe and I sure as shit was not gonna give 'em all a demo, but Belly joined a group and off they went. It was hold your guts laughing funny and as I took photos, I had to be careful not to get in the way of a runaway box or a tumbling kid. Yeh there was a bit of blood, but after I chased the kids and snuck up on 'em with dettol and bandaids all was put right.

The cartons which had become cardboard bits were used for more games and then it was food time.

I reckon it's very easy to see the nature of the parents just by looking and listening to the kids. Belly and I were like a pair of mad manners madams. They got NOTHING without a please and thank you. Really it is all so simple to get it right.

Some kid sneered that there was no BBQ sauce but chomped his sanga up anyway. And another kid asked questions like, 'Is this store bought, cos if it is it will make me vomit.'  So too will a good backhander and holding your face in a toilet bowl is what I fancied saying to the blighter.

Then the moment Bell had been dreading and which will never be repeated- The Pinata bashing! Suffice to say that it ended as badly as Belly knew it was gonna. Any rugby coach would have been pleased with their mauling abilities. As it was my idea, I am just gonna forget about it as soon as I can.

Cake and watermelon and then yippee-kai-ay it was 2 o'clock and where are the bloody parents of these monsters.

Most of the mums and dads came and thanked Belly for her trouble and their kids were happy to head home with their loot bags full of even more sugar. But the 2 kids who had been bloody painful all day were owned by parent s who were late and didn't bother with the basics of a thank you. The kids had not fallen far from the tree!

Bell shouted out, 'Thank you!' to them as they were piling into their cars but her subtlety was lost.

We clean and made sure that the Scouts' efforts for  'Clean Up Australia Day' were not wasted and then Zig got down to the excitement of opening up all his pressies. Well what a haul!! He was an excited exhausted little man who held it together at least until he hopped into the car.

I am pretty certain there was not much going on at home with either of 'em last night. A bit of sausage and blessed sleep for them both.

It was a big lovely day.

Party Preparations are about DONE!

Belly and I spent yesterday getting sorted for Zig's big old party tomorrow. Catering for 30 kids and their hanger-on parents is quite a formidable task in itself, but as anyone who has ever thrown a kid's party knows, it is the least of the planning.

With experience comes some confidence that we will be able to ENTERTAIN these kids as well as feed them. It si defintely not for the feint hearted.

So prizes were bought and wrapped and games were organised and a schedule was drawn up so that we know we can fill in the 2 and a half HOURS!!

Belly has today been busy with her artistry in cake making. Every year she gives Zig the choice as to what he might like his cake to be and she sets about making it. She forgets that kids just don't give a shit really, so long as there is plenty of sugar and they all get a bit they are happy. Belly likes to make sure it is a perfect replica of Zig's desire so she follows a scaled up model to the finest detail. And it has to be said that the cakes are always bloody magnificent!

I have been boiling eggs for the egg and spoon races and cooking up sausages so they need only be reheated on the BBQ tomorrow. My worst fear would be that some kids go home with the vomits cos of the sloppy inside of a sausage.

I remembered very late that I wanted to take a folding chair, cos it is a long long day on my feet and some scum bags stole ours that Belly and Zig gave us one year for xmas. Yeh the bastards stole 'em from the shed while we were building the house. I hope they were full of bitey whitetail spiders and they lost some digits, like out builder nearly did. I know that was a long time ago and I have been slow to replace 'em, but it is just not something that routinely jumps into my head....being that camping and all that is really not to fore my mind.

Belly has made 9 carton cars and there is a serious slope at the park and all the oldfashioned games which the kids love so much are gonna climax in car race relays. We rather doubt the boxes will make it to the end and we are really hoping that no-one breaks anything other than cardboard, but we reckon that it will be a hoot. Belly can give the death nell to any boxes that survive the slide as she test drove one to make sure it was big enough for her, and she just loved going down that hill at silly speed.

So up early and ready for the off. I am a walking ache at the end of the day, but the payment of smiles and cuddles is more than enough to keep me going back year after year.

I do wonder whether we might have to change things up next year for the BIG ONE ZERO.