Monday, October 31, 2011


Be patient, oh reader, for my scary tale is a long one beginning quite normally over rice bubbles and eggs this very morn. My 'sick' brother and I went to purchase shoes from the village square.
I tarried amongst the boots.....
where I became entranced by these eerily pretty satin dancing slippers.
Indeed it seems they were bewitched for upon wearing them I was overtaken by a deep and unsettled slumber.
Strange dreams overtook me where my brother wandered in a glassy world amongst giant floating Zoolander heads.
In my dream we meandered home along a winding road under a grey ominous sky filled with clouds of purple blossom.
Then I found myself in a blingy room watching my sister's Rapunzel hair grow shorter....
and shorter as she coaxed the scissor-wielding, tattooed Amazon to cut it, "More like Matilda's!" Soon she was transformed ......
I was swiftly recruited into her spooky, kooky kids' cult whereupon...
we were whisked off to the castle of terrible twelve year old boys who did foam and froth at us.
There were pumpkins ....
and candles and cheerios and much atmosphere.
Next we were taken to the mansion of Scandy Andy of which my dear Mama often dreams. There we were plied with Gingerdead men and mandarines....
whilst mother was mesmerised by his latest West German oppy urn ......
and this hypnotically lovely orb of orange crushed glass. His powerful potion of gin and grapefruit juice sent her spiralling into a deeper trance from which she cackled in delight as she stroked his vases.
Then, most bizarre of all, dear ones, I was walked to the door of a stranger's house to knock and beg and thereupon be bestowed with Chuppa Cups! Seriously! They just gave them to me! Even the nanna's have not reached such pinnacles of sugariness!
I tried it again,
This time I received a latex glove filled with popcorn.... strange times for a two year old.

The street began to fill with a colourful murder of fellow shorties driven by the fiendish desire to fill pillow cases and sequinned handbags with sugary booty.We went to pick up the final brother in the triptych of horror to find his own dream of having a puppy to be finally fulfilled.
Late on this eve, I awoke briefly on the couch back in my home surrounded by my dearly beloveds to realise it must have all been a dream. The lollies had all disappeared and Mama was feeling a little unwell. Spooky!

Friday, October 28, 2011

Pavlova egg makeover

Lala wants a party. I have made her a D.I.Y. list. She started cutting, pasting, writing and enveloping last night. Is a week's notice not enough? Gosh. I hope none of the EIGHTEEN kids have prior engagements. Go girl. A party task a day gets you a party.
Meanwhile I have pressing household issues to attend to while she pastes and the big fella makes dinner. Remember the Pavlova fiasco. It seems the instant cheat pav was a hit with the discerning palettes of the Year threes. Put sprinkles on cardboard and they'll eat it. So we now have a splendid pavlova mix, egg shaped receptacle. Too good to throw out right?
Inspiration strikes!
A little snip and carve....
the addition of some bits of household junk....
the ubiquitous ninja star made of those things you bung in the back of a canvas.....
and Bob's your uncle. Paint with the universal primer from the bottomless tin.
The alternative universe/ matrix/ dollhouse also needs a table.
The raw items.
Applying a bit of Sonia paint as I watch TV on the couch. (Don't tell the Big Fella I paint on the couch. It's my guilty secret.) Dog stitch a quicky felt cushion.
The children of the Kooky cult ponder over who will try it first? They chant the Kooky mantra. "My turn... my turn..."
Annie McPhee gets the gig.
Oh look! Daddy woke up and there had been a significant reno undertaken. That wallpaper is sourced from the Megan stash in Casa del Artistica Domestica.
Time for a cup of chai before bed.
More to follow.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Calmer karma!

Today was calmer.

This is what they were doing when I groped my way out of the bedroom this morning. The five of them were standing together, holding hands, forming a circle of love and silent understanding. There was even whispered 'chanting'. Then I woke up a bit more and realised they were performing party tricks on each other. Still it was a pleasant start and when they are older and looking at photos I will tell them they were embracing each other in sibling love!
Another calm moment was sitting in the Lairy Godmother's parlour chatting for way too long and enjoying her fabulous new vinaigrette. She has very schmick newly polished concrete floors, the m.i.l's old sideboard and some groovy glass. The big painting is from her husband's artist uncle, Eric Stegman. It is rather special I think. The little one she ordered on-line not long ago from New Zealand artist Ellen Giggenbach. Have a look at her site. It is lovely.
Armed with a calmer demeanour and airier mood, I got a better pavlova - puffy piles better. We ate the flat one for dessert and this one will go to Year 3 tomorrow. It is a cheat pavlova from one of those pavlova eggs. Lala will read aloud a recipe and instructions that she believes to be true but we know better.
Lairy Fairy gave me the tip. I have never used one before but it was so easy to 'beat to stiff peaks', like shaving cream! Even the 10 year old Masterchef could whip this up! I'm getting some more for Saturday baking boy bonanza time.!

Lala has begun planning her birthday for next week. She has the guest list down to 23!!!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

On how life sometimes imitates art....

....if that art was Blue Poles. i.e. Organised chaos but not really organised. Jackson and I just say it is to save face.

I don't blame the big fella. He has worked like a navvy on the ark today and collapsed on the couch during the 7 o'clock news. Fortunately all the glass fruit was in place and his stuffed toy had not been culled. I, on the other hand, had developed a slight twitch in my left eye as I reflected at one point on the surrealism that is real life.
"I wonder what sort of deck railing would suit my own aesthetic and that of my lovely wife. zzzz.."

Meanwhile, in another room, Annie McPhee comes to an abrupt realisation.
"Good Grief, there are five of them! It's like Raising Arizona in here!!!"

5 a.m. B2 gets up for swimming training but can't find his goggles. So he doesn't go after all and I am awake AT FIVE A.M.!

6 a.m. Drive him to retrieve his shoes from school where he left them the previous night.

7 a.m. Feed, wash, check, spot sponge, feed etc. Put on laundry, empty dishwasher etc.

8 a.m. Drop them at school. Discover party invitation on the footpath for my sons that is wet with overnight dew.

9 a.m. Begin hanging washing, cleaning up brekky, blah blah, fall asleep during Playschool. Jay has five children. How is he is so perky?

10.10 a.m. Clean up toddler's room. Do puzzles to stimulate brain and rejig the dollhouse. Make cubby. Toddler goes knees up trying to sit on cubby roof which is made of a sheet.

10.40 a.m. Find oneself talking with red teletubby about elections and foreign policy.
1.00 p.m. Having failed to feed toddler anything but ice, bail and go to Ron and Brian's to drop off their new wards. 'Twas the drive of shame. Roadkill Teddy, don't gloat! (Note the yellow and turquoise Louenhide bag I got there a while ago for $4.)
1.10 p.m.Bang the toddler's finger between the car door and pole she is swinging on. Ply her with McChips to assuage the guilt.
"Look Mother. This is how you stop the tick in your left eye."
1.30 p.m. Look in op shop expectantly. Find nuttin'. Nice Lala brings flowers home again. I tweak them unnecessarily.
4.oo p.m. Attend parent teacher meeting for Fishy. Drop older sons at park for a play with mates then a quick spot of gardening . This is a purple cauli broc thing from the garden. It may have picked it too late!
5.20 p.m. Receive garbled phone call to pick up B1 who had rolled in grass at the park and received a constellation of green-ant bites all over his lower back. Send big fella to dole out the first aid. Start cooking inevitable spag bog.
6.00 p.m. Lala says she needs Pavlova for school report tomorrow. Consult the guru cook book.
6.30 p.m. She loses her homework, we find it, we make the pav. Never make pav when it's humid.
6.45 p.m. Fish jumps on the bandwagon needing help with his homework task. Does this not seem a bit wordy for year 5 ?
7.00 p.m. Find Harriet, the chicken, languishing in the corner of the coop. I google her condition. Check out the first symptom of a sick chook below. Eek!
7.30 p.m. Complete the pavlova, start on the Madrid Protocol and put the overtired Shorty to bed. Tend to the bites.

8.00 p.m. Big Fella wakes up refreshed to ask if I would like chops for dinner. Was it all a dream? Why am I cranky?

8.30 p.m. Now it's time to relax with my other hobby, the art of folding, and we're not talking origami. It was a long 18 hours.
Disclaimer: For the first time I fell asleep writing a post and had to heavily edit the gibberish on the screen this morning. I apologise for any inherent tedium and delirium that may be present.

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