Day 937

I've been spending a bit of time making movies over the last few days. One to enter in the Samsung Global Blogger competition for a chance to go to the London Olympics, a few for my new product line and one to remember our holiday by.  So I thought rather than sitting here rambling on with the written word today, I might start off my week with a Monday video.

Here is a Deep Fried peek into my Deep Fried home office ...

Day 936

At the time of writing this post there are 89 days 22 hours and 50 minutes until the opening ceremony of the London Olympics.

What does the Olympics mean to you?

When I was a kid I loved watching the Olympics on TV.  All of those sports, many of which I had never seen before.  I particularly loved the swimming, running, gymnastics and diving.  I remember one year a friend of mine came to stay and she stayed up ALL night watching the Games because she didn't have a television at home so she'd never ever seen the Olympics before. Never? Wow!

Of course we all remember having the Olympics in Sydney.  Where were you? Did you attend?

Day 935

Image borrowed from www.uggbootsrus.com.au 

We're home! And it's cold. I am in Ugg boots.

As we were traveling south the last few days I started to feel a heavy weight.  It was getting heavier and heavier with every kilometre. So yeah, of course I got a headache.  The weight wasn't stress nor unhappiness nor dread.  It was just the weight of responsibility nestling itself firmly back on my shoulders.  Knowing that it was time to back to all that Deep Fried Fruit I insist on juggling in the air.

When we walked in our front door the weight magically lifted.

My eyes took in the welcoming beauty of our home, the resources at our disposal, the light in the room and (despite my freezing toes) the warmth we have in our lives.  It may have been freaking cold in the house (note to self - will get someone to turn on the heater a day before we arrive in future) but there was a warmth and comfort and feeling of energy about the place.  Which energised me to take each piece of fruit from my deep fried bowl and line it up ready for some good old fashioned targeted action. That gave me focus and made me happy. And for that, I am grateful.

Today I am grateful for:

• Ugg boots
• Ducted heating
• Wood fires
• Pizza deliveries
• Spa baths
• Champagne
• Hot showers (without water restrictions)
• Washing machines
• A husband who helps unpack and wash
• Non frizzy hair
• Super fast internet
• Quiet kids enjoying the space in their own bedrooms
• High definition digital photos to remember the fabulous holiday we just had bringing hot sun and sparkling waters into our lounge room
• Home

What are you grateful for?

For a whole swag of gratitude head on over to Maxabella where every week she shares the love.

Day 934

Photo borrowed from www.travelblog.org

My husband has decided that the sun shines out of our arses.

As we were travelling towards Noosa two weeks ago we came across far too many rainy patches for our liking.  We were starting to get a little concerned that our "let's extend our summer" holiday to the Sunshine Coast may end up in a "let's extend our winter" holiday to the Cyclone Coast. But as luck would have it the further north we went, the longer the sunny patches became. Wherever we stopped, so did the rain.  When we went to the beach a ray of sunlight would find us. In one particular instance the entire coast line was grey with rain as far as the eye could see, but our beach was awash with gold. By the time we got to Noosa their two week period of rain magically vanished and we had seven days of perfect sunshine.  On the day we left the rain clouds started to gather and the world became a little more grey.

As we head south towards home there is a definite chill in the air but so far we have blue skies.  Reports from home over the last few days suggest it is freezing in Canberra-ville with temps in single digits and an icy wind.  There are even reports of snow in the mountains.  We have not been looking forward to our return. But a quick check of the good ol' BOM website suggests that the closer we get to Canberra, the warmer Canberra is becoming, with temps soaring back up to around 20 degrees by the time we are due to return.  Due perhaps to a Langdown arsey glow?

Yes Husband, perhaps the sun does shine from our arses.  Let's hope so anyway ...

Day 933

Photo borrowed from www.funtasticus.com

Something I’ve noticed about myself during this journey into Deep Friednom – I spend much of my life needing to pee.  Nothing could highlight that fact more than this recent drive up and down the east coast of Australia.  Roadside toilets are ridiculously few and far between, and the ones that we do find are very uninviting.  Who needs a personal trainer when you can spend your life giving your quad muscles a work out as you hover above smelly pox infected public toilets?

I noticed that when I am home in everyday-ville I don’t pee quite so frequently, but the constant urge is still there. I just know the toilet is within a 10 second dash if my release valve is about to go off so I hold off for as long as possible because every second is precious in my “taking care of business” mindset. But when you’re on the road with a possible 45 minute wait between toilets, the urge becomes increasingly more powerful.

It starts with a niggle and progresses to a need to go.  Then it becomes a bit more cross-your-legs in urgency.  If the road is the slightest bit bumpy, windy or corrugated then you start to approach the red zone.  Add a sneeze and you’re cactus.  For someone as fit and fabulous as I pretend to be, a roadside squat is not an option.  I need to find a toilet even if it does require hovercraft technology to use it.  Throw in a road sign that gives you the little toilet logo and the dam almost bursts in anticipation.  Please hurry, please hurry, please hurry …

There will no doubt come a time in my out years when my water balloon permanently springs a leak and I’ll be requiring some assistance in the personal hygiene area.  Perhaps I should hire myself a fanny physio now?

For today though I will continue to map out my journey with the nearest toilet(s) in mind, and will be a little more strategic about how many litres of water I drink at our lunch time stops, and  the three cups of green tea at breakfast.    

Day 932

Borrowed from Google Images

Lest we forget.

Today on this Anzac Day we continue to travel south.  We will not be participating in any marches or services or visiting any memorials.  Not because we don't care ... but simply because we are travelling.  So instead we are talking (as a family) about war, and security, and camaraderie, and commitment, and gratitude, and loyalty. All the things that Anzac Day means to us.

Comrades.  Today's discussion is focusing on the friendships formed and the alliances kept.  The importance of watching each other's backs and loyalty.  Looking after each other and being there through the good, the bad and the ugly.

As we do this I reflect on my own comrades.  My family of course, but also my friends. People who are not of my blood but whose alliances are just as thick. Those people who have been part of my life (and I part of theirs) for many years.  Through our own little challenges (that often felt like wars), committing to each other and loving each other through the good times and the bad.  Being ferociously loyal to each other and supporting each other when needed.  My friends. My comrades. My army.

This week I get to see a few of them. As we travel on our annual junket I get to call in on friends who are dotted up and down the east coast and physically hug them in a once a year treat.

Today as we head south on this Anzac Day I not only reflect and give gratitude to the men and women who have fought and continue to fight for a life of security, comfort and support - those in the forefront, those in the middle and those backing up in the rear - but  I am also going to pay homage to my own personal army of comrades in a world where security equals freedom and freedom gives us life.

Lest we forget ... 

Day 931

I've taken to chugging "Gaviscon" - the deep fried drink of choice for irritable tummies and an acidic chest.  Nothing makes you feel more middle aged than having to deal with heartburn and acid indigestion.

I think I grew another ulcer during slumber last night when I dreamed that someone threw acid over Max, our beautiful blonde (and now blind) Labrador, all because he wandered out in front of a car while I was in the bank.  I won't go into the details of the dream, needless to say it was not pleasant. I took a swig of Gaviscon the moment I woke up.  I think it's time to watch what I'm eating of an evening ... might have to give the Spanish onion and capsicum a miss. These dreams are a little troubling (although would make great story-lines for a novel ....hmmmm ...)

Today we pack up from our lovely Noosa apartment and head south again.  It's time to bid farewell to the beautifully warm waters, gorgeous skies, hot sun and perfectly sifted soft sands of the Sunshine Coast. Fitting everything back into the Kia will be like a game of Tetrus, so I'll leave that to Husband, the gaming master.  My job is to pack the house, ensuring nothing is left behind and that the apartment is in bond-returning condition.  My job is also to ensure that everyone packs an overnight bag for the trip home so that the big suitcases can be slotted into the far corners of the Kia without needing to be touched until we arrive back in Canberra-ville in three days time.

Despite the bad dreams and the Gaviscon drinking conditions, I really don't want to leave Noosa.  Don't get me wrong, we have a fantastic life back home with so much to look forward to and great dreams to strive towards, but being in Noosa feels free.

For something that feels so free, it's a shame it's all so bloody expensive.


Gaviscon anyone?

Day 930

Last night I had a dream ... a kinda stressful dream ... and as a result, I may have woken up with an ulcer.

Derek and I were walking across a bridged walk-way above the trees heading to what seemed to be our product launch.  We were dressed up and excited.  We were also carrying a bit of extra weight and my boobs felt enormous.  Along the way people were passing us going the opposite way, and they were smiling and waving and saying "Can't wait for tonight! See you soon."  Who were these people, and why would they be seeing us soon?  They definitely weren't invited to the product launch ... I didn't even know them.  We kept walking, holding hands.  The sun was shining and there was a slight breeze.  We came across someone we knew. She was wearing a blue taffeta dress and she was also looking a bit beefier than normal.  Her boobs were huge.  She was smiling and almost skipping. She told us that the launch was all set to go and that she had announced it at the school so we were sure to get hundreds of people there.  Hundreds of people?  We didn't want hundreds of people.  I could feel vomit rising into my throat.  Shit.  This was an invitation only launch and now we were going to have hundreds of strangers involved.  We smiled at her and thanked her.  Derek in his usual "she'll be right mate" way said that it would all work out.  But I had only done product sample bags for 50 invited guests. We couldn't give our products away to hundreds of people! Suddenly the bridge became metallic see through and my high heels started getting stuck in the grates.  My dress was itchy and hot and my boobs were getting bigger and bigger.  My thighs were rubbing together.  People were still walking past us smiling and waving and telling us they would see us soon.  I needed the toilet. I desperately needed the toilet.  How do I get off this bridge and down to ground level again? 


That's when I woke up and really did get out of bed and go to the toilet.  Which was lucky coz I was at that point in the dream where I was starting to look for a tree to squat behind. I was thinking I was going to wet my pants and ruin my electric blue taffeta frock! I often need to pee in my dreams. I wonder if I didn't wake up (and actually did find a tree in my dream and started to squat) would I wet the bed?  Anyway, I didn't wet the bed.  I went to the toilet and then went back to bed and straight back to sleep.  The dream continued.

We are now in a room full of people. Why is everyone so fat? There were faces I knew and faces I didn't. Everyone looked like they'd been blown up with a bike pump. The ladies all had big boobs and all wore taffeta.  My dress was the one I wore to my year 12 formal only it was bigger and the sleeves weren't quite as puffy.  There were dresses in the crowd that I recognised from my year 12 photos but the people wearing them were different.  Everyone was smiling.  They were all sitting shoulder to shoulder on chairs pressed in tight.  A hundred or more people. Too tight. Everyone was fat and squished together.  We were in a room that was our home only it didn't look like our home. It was an apartment.  When did we buy this house? Everyone was smiling and looking at me with expectation.  I was standing there staring at everyone still holding Derek's hand.  He started to speak to the crowd.  He thanked everyone for being there and introduced me. As he handed me the microphone  I realised that we were too early. This wasn't launch day at all.  Everyone was two weeks early. I had no products to launch! I only had one book and it had dodgy chapter headings, and I had no merchandise. We were supposed to have three books, t-shirts, shorts, wrist bands, post cards.  But all we had was one dodgy unfinished book. Why were we here?  What was I going to talk about?  All these fat people staring at me smiling expectantly waiting to hear what all the fuss was about. 


That's when I woke up.  With an ulcer.




Today is our last day in Noosa.  Time to head to the beach.

Day 929

My dream home - it will be mine, oh yes, one day it will be mine.

After I left you yesterday I tackled some parts of my to-do list, including going through 143 emails and calling my PR person to talk through some of the things swirling through my brain. After that call, as the rest of the crew headed to the beach, I spent an hour going through my new product website with a fine tooth comb so that the website builder can finalise work and I can sign off and take over managing the site. I then wandered down the 200 bush stairs to the beach to join the family for an hour. I swear it was only five minutes later that we were packing up our stuff and heading back to the apartment for an early lunch.  I used that time for a couple more to-dos and to rest a churning stomach.

Then I headed back to the land of floating.

Husband had organised a lovely pontoon style boat for the afternoon, complete with BBQ and toilet, for a three hour sojourn around the Noosa River.  The toilet was specifically for me as I am the only one in the entire family (which includes grandparents) who needs to piddle every hour or so.  If we are driving any distance it's me screaming "are we there yet" due to irritable bladder.  Irritable bladder, irritable bowel, irritable sinus, irritable ovaries .... just plain irritable. I can't even take the kids to Sky Fire in Canberra because I would need to line up for most of the festivities with a thousand others to pee in one of the few public toilets. Time for me to start wearing nappies? So we paid the extra eighty bucks for the deluxe model so that I could pee without having to dive into the river to do that whole floating-while-you-pee-with-legs-dangling-and-marine-life-swimming-and-it's-freaking-me-out-so-much-I-may-just-have-a-heart-attack-and-die thing.  The thought of things swimming around me without me knowing scares the bejesus out of me.  Damn you Jaws!! Yes, yes, yes ... I know ... high maintenance.   So, we got the one with the toilet.  And oh what a toilet it was!! It was a tiny little thing only 30 cm above the ground (those regular squats at PT are worth something!) which came with its own pop up tent for privacy.  I'm not sure which was worse ... the idea of Jaws swimming around me in the river or being trapped in a 50cm x 50cm zippered box.  Anyway, I had a toilet ... let's get back to the floating ...

So yeah, we spent the afternoon floating around the Noosa River with champagne in one hand and bikkies and dip in the other.  We cruised around the lovely houses and marveled at the posh boats.  I found my dream home and have taken photos of it AND it's boat to add to my visualisation board which will magically make it mine in a few years time. Then we "landed" on a secluded beach and had a little burger and hot dog style BBQ before heading off again for floating while boating.  Everyone had a ball. Darby couldn't stop talking the entire trip, Tahlia was in full princess wind-blowing-through-hair mode, Nanny laid out, Pop sat at the front drinking a beer, Derek drove and I sipped the champas.

When we got back I really didn't want to make return phone calls (the calls I had declined while floating), but I did ... to further cleanse my mind ... and then had a ten hour sleep. Yep.  I am fully rested.

Thanks for all the suggestions on resting my cluttered mind yesterday.  Just hearing your thoughts and feeling your support went a long way to calming the chaos.

Happy Sunday everyone!  We're off to the Noosa Harbour Markets and some more time on the beach.

Deep Fried floating - pontoon style

Mr DFF with his iddy biddy BBQ on a lovely secluded beach

The Noosa River

Day 928

How do you quieten an over-active mind?

I have finally washed and the floating has stopped with the anchor firmly secured around my waist.  So firm in fact that it's causing some stomach cramps.  

I've been sleeping a lot which I thought was due to my foray into relaxation but it seems could be partially due to some type of flu virus.  Perhaps I have no idea how to relax at all. There is a to-do list building up around me and I am starting to feel a little unwell.  

Yesterday afternoon I had a business meeting (here in Noosa) with a lady who is supplying merchandise for my new product line.  It was a lovely chat, with champagne in one hand, product samples in the other and a view of the Noosa water ways.  That meeting seemed to trigger some sort of taking-care-of-business bodily response which has put me back into action, action, action mode complete with brain boggle and a bit of reflux action going on in the chest and throat region (or is that the virus?)  As I chatted to her I realised it is only two months until my product launch.  There is so much to do! All that means I stayed awake for much of the night writing notes and thinking.  I spent a night of sleepy contradiction with the inability to stay awake being seriously challenged by an equal inability to fall asleep.  There was a mix of fatigued slumber inter-twined with anxious periods of complete awakeness. A strange predicament. And now I am buggered.  

Luckily for me I am still in Noosa with blue skies, hot sun and a very welcoming beach. If I need to go splat I can.  Or can I? I'm not sure my jittery mind boggled body will let me. Tell me - how do you quieten an over-active mind?

I know I said I would never show it, but perhaps a diversion into all things bikini-land might help.  In the scheme of things a quick peak at my enormous bikini might take my anxieties elsewhere  .... 

Deep Fried bikini - what happens on this blog, stays on this  blog! No, you can't borrow this photo. Ever!

Day 927

I usually wear a tankini. This trip I've gone out on a limb (albeit a slightly tree-trunky leg of a limb) and opted for the bikini. What was I thinking?

Every time we travel to Queensland I buy myself new swimwear.  There is nothing like the swimwear in Queensland ... definitely nothing like it in Canberra-ville.  I usually opt for the "resort wear" look.  Tankini's that can be worn with pants or skirts to go straight from the beach to the cocktail bar.  Like this one that I bought two years ago (covers all the squidgy bits)

This year I thought I might get brave and try a bikini.

There is this boutique I often go to in Coolangatta to get my new swimwear purchase.  I snuck in there again this year while Derek and the kids were surfing at Rainbow Bay.  On the car ride up to the Gold Coast I had this vision in my mind of me in a black bikini with my freshly spray tanned body and slightly firmed up muscles due to weekly PT sessions with copious amounts of kettle bells.  So I went straight to the rack of  black and piled my stuff into the change room.

There is no way I look that bad in swimmers. NO WAY! Really?  After all that hard work and a $45 spray I still look like a water soaked sea sponge?  From the chest up (minus my frizzy head) I like what I see. Reasonably firm arms, well supported breasts and decent back.  At the stomach region I marvel again at the excess skin that creates elephant ripples and hangs loosely over my waist band regardless of how many sit-ups I do.  But what can you do?  There are kids involved and they are worth it. I can handle that (there's a certain amount of pride involved). But it's when I turn around and see my arse and upper thighs that I realise the lighting and the mirrors in this joint must be warped.  There is no way I am that squidgy and orange peely, is there?  Where did that hail damage come from??

I like the bikini top but sent the knickers back for something three times the size. Preferably with skirt or some sort of lovely drapery to cover the Sponge Bob Square Pants going on in my butt region.  The sales lady obliged and I have ended up with the BIGGEST bikini you have ever seen. But it is a bikini none-the-less.  And I have been wearing it on the beach for the entire world to see.  It's not so good for jumping and diving through waves (lost the top a couple of times) nor is it good to wear driving through the streets of Noosa (it unclipped itself on one drive and completely flung off like a sling shot leaving me topless ... luckily I was travelling alone and was able to pull over under a tree to fix the wardrobe malfunction) but it is lovely to  sun bake in and for being able to say "I wear a bikini".

There are no photos.  What happens on Noosa beach stays on Noosa beach. 

Day 926

This week I am floating through life ...

I have joined the ranks of the great unwashed, complete with flowing clothes, ratty frizzy hippy hair, copious amounts of sleep and very little brain matter.  The mirror is not my friend nor is my to-do list.  I am avoiding both as I bumble through my days living in the now.

I am spending a ridiculous amount of time contemplating my naval and marveling at the return of my calf muscles who have suddenly decided to show up. These prodical little bastards have not visited in at least 18 months but have come back with a hell of a lot of pomp and ceremony now that I am walking up hills and stairs every day to return to the top of my mountain.

Am I enjoying my foray into this world of inaction and brainless oblivion? Hell yeah! But there is a niggle inside me that is telling me that stuff has got to be done.  Combine that with voice messages, emails and texts all requesting my presence back in the real world and I am waging an internal battle of the wills.  My body is screaming for a temporary world full of splatsville, my mind is supporting my body whole-heartedly, but my gut is telling me that perhaps I should keep myself anchored to Leanne-world (even if the chain is ridiculously long) just to make sure I don't float too far out to sea and never return.  

We all know the healing properties of water and floating.  Perhaps I will float for a little longer ... and think about that anchor tomorrow.  

The Deep Fried view - of the Deep Fried surfer kids

The Deep Fried floating zone - eat your heart out Edward Cullen, Noosa waters sparkle better than any sunlit vampire ever could.

Day 925

There is far too much sunshine to be sitting here typing today.  I don't know how long it is going to last, so please excuse me while I wander off down there to the water.  Gotta love Noosa!

The Deep Fried view from our balcony in Upper Hastings Street Noosa. The  down side to having such a splendiferous view is that every time you go out ... you've got to get back home again. Hello quad muscles!

Day 924

Ok. So yesterday's crap session was a bit crappy ... I apologise for worrying everyone ... today we'll strive for rainbows, unicorns and pixie dust.

Today it doesn't matter that our escape from all things cold and cloudy has led us straight to all things torrential in the tropics. The rain will probably stop for short bursts of sunshine and if it doesn't we'll make our own sunshine.

Today it doesn't matter that I have some sort of face migraine that reoccurs daily and that my stomach is feeling dodgy.  I'll continue to take pain killers and stay near a toilet.

Today it doesn't matter that my book had another two pages replaced in it yesterday due to incorrect chapter headings. Somehow we ended up with two chapter threes and two chapter sevens! Isn't that fascinating? Better that we discovered it before 2000 copies are bound and sent to stores.  I only swore for a short while and stamped my feet a little bit. It's only money.

Today it doesn't matter that I didn't get Prince tickets even though he is my favourite artist on the planet.  I agree that our money is better spent replacing the above pages.

Today it doesn't matter that Husband is starting to have second thoughts about building an office onto the house and that I may be destined to use the dining room as an office forever.  We will end up making the decision that is right for us. I haven't cancelled the architect just yet. 

Today it doesn't matter that my hair is getting frizzier and frizzier (and bigger and bigger) the further north we go.  I can gel it all back in a big boofy bun and stick a flower in it to truly get into a resort frame of mind.

Today it doesn't matter that I forgot to bring the aforementioned hair flowers with me. I can buy more or steal them from people's gardens.

Today it doesn't matter if I need to cry due to life's frustrations fascinations. Crying is a lovely way to cleanse and you don't have to stay sad for long.  Forcing a smile tricks the dopomines into believing you are actually happy and as a result the tears subside. 

Today there will be no crap.  I choose to be poo free.


Have a great day.

Deep Fried Fruit partaking in some dopamine trickery (and self photography) at Rainbow Bay

Day 923

Crap.

Crap, crap, crap.

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.

CRAP!!!

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP!!!!!!


And that's all I'm going to say.

Day 922

On the road again.


Just can't wait to get on the road again.

We've started our annual junket to the north.  It's that time of year where we bid farewell to Canberra for a couple of weeks to chase the sun and soak in the warmth of Queensland beaches to extend our summer just a tad.  We like to squeeze every bit of juice out of that huge citrus ball in the sky. While we're at it we pay homage to the "car lease" Gods as we diligently rack up the K's on the odometer to appease our accountant and avoid extra FBT charges.  In true Griswald style we pack the car to the rafters, whack on a few DVDs for the kids, call in on a few friends along the way and just drive ....

Last night we made it as far as Port Macquarie.

Today we plan to hit the Gold Coast.

Then from there it's Noosa baby .

Gotta love Australia.

Deep Fried Fruit - we don't travel lightly! Gotta love finding your  inner Griswald.

Day 921

About twelve months or so ago I joined Kiva which is a not-for-profit organisation set up to help people in poverty raise money to start their own businesses.  


I was particularly attracted to Kiva because I would like to help as many women as possible avoid sexual slavery (and therefore teach their daughters to avoid the same fate) in Asian countries. I was saddened by what I had read in "Half the Sky" but also uplifted by how people can actually make small contributions with huge effect.  I wrote about that  400 days ago. 


Anyway, I came across Kiva and we made just one loan to a woman in Cambodia (Somreang Suy) who is a widow with five sons and two daughters.  She applied for a loan to help with her daughter's grocery store by purchasing more grocery items for resale and she also used a part of the loan to buy weaving materials for her weaving business. Somreang buys weaving materials from local markets, creates fabrics and sells her finished fabrics to garment producers.  All I had to do was loan $25.  That's all! Other Kiva loaners also loaned $25 and Somreang successfully got her business underway AND paid us back at around $2 every couple of months.  That's right. It is actually a loan ... not a donation ... but a loan.  It's really quite simple.


Back on Day 514 I wrote the following: So often we read about the plight of others, of communities, of entire countries and we think "what can I do? What difference will it make?"  So we do nothing.  Then there are those that do something. Just a little something that helps one single person, which in turn helps that person's family, which in turn may actually help their next generation.


Well, I did a little something and it feels good. So I've decided I might just do it again! And double it. Perhaps triple it. Might even quadruple it.  


If you are interested in finding out more about Kiva go to www.kiva.org.  Signing on will definitely make a difference. 

Somreang Suy - for the cost of a lunch date, you can make a whole world of difference.

If you would like more inspiration pop on over to Edenland to hear how one Mummy Blogger is making her own huge world of difference with World Vision. 

Day 920

How often do our eyes see not what is actually there, but what we have trained our brain to believe?

Book one of my new series is on the print press right now.  2,000 copies of the book are being printed as I type this.  As part of that process we picked up a copy of the pre-bound sample to make sure the lay-out was correct before binding takes place.

Now, I have an editor, two assistant editors, three children from my target market and myself ALL reading the books over and over and over again to ensure there are no errors.  This book has passed seven different sets of eyes.  But of course in receiving the pre-bound sample I thought I should read through it ONE LAST TIME.  Going to print is very nerve-racking. Publishing the book means it's now set in stone. Thousands of dollars and boxes of books means there is no room for error.

It turns out that on one tiny page of the book, all seven sets of eyes saw not what was actually there, but what we had trained our brain to believe should be there.

As I read page 86 for the 20th time, I saw it as plain as the nose on my face.  In fact, I saw it as plain as the nose on Barbra Streisand's face. How could we have missed it?

Charlie whispered to Jane, "Which one is Jenny?"

Jane pointed to a girl with long dark hair pulled back in a phone tail. She was standing in a group of five with her head bowed down looking at the floor.

A phone tail? A PHONE tail? What the hell is a PHONE TAIL?

Shit, shit, shit.

Panicked phone calls and an urgent STOP PRESS!!! 

Girls don't have their hair pulled back in phone tails. Can we possibly change that to the equine metaphor instead?  

Sure we can ... but we now have to replace every page in every copy that has already gone to print. That will cost extra. 

Ok, that's fine, just do what we need to do and send me the bill.

It's amazing how often our eyes only see what we have trained our brain to believe should be there.  

We all knew it was a pony tail, so dismissed what was actually in front of us.

It makes you wonder just how much we miss because we look but fail to really see. 

Day 919

Gotta tell ya.  Not very clever at tweeting. I like the idea but how do you find the time?

For years I have thought it was just me shouting out at the world, but it turns out people can actually shout right back at ya. Huh! That's interesting. And kind of nice. I guess that's what makes it social media ... being social ... rather than just broadcasting your own fluff and nonsense.

So today is the day I take a few twitter lessons.  If I'm gonna be carrying around this little birdie on my shoulder I may as well make it useful ...

First thing I'm gonna do is make myself some little Twitter birdie lists.

Wish me luck!

PS I have this massive case of de ja vu. Have I pledged to learn all things Tweetville before? 

Day 918

Why do birds fly south?


Because it's too far to walk.

What kind of animals can jump higher than a house?

All kinds of animals. Houses can not jump.


What time is it when an elephant sits on a fence?

Time to get a new fence.


If you drop a white hat into the Red Sea, what will it become?

Wet.




At Easter Mum pulled out the "Book of Riddles" which was one of my favourite books as a kid.  It is part of the "I can read it all by myself - Beginner Books" collection put out by Random House and which has the Cat in the Hat "logo" (suggesting it may be a Dr Seuss book, however it actually makes no reference to Dr Seuss at all which has confused me).  This particular copy was copyrighted in 1960 and first published in 1962. I'm not sure when I got it but it would have been around the mid 70's I guess. Anyway, it was one of my favourites and as the kids read out the riddles at the Easter table I was able to answer just about all of them proving that perhaps my Deep Fried "Alzheimer's" isn't as far progressed as I first thought.

I love the smell and feel and slightly "stained" appearance of old books.  It's just so ... so ... so "vintage".

I love the way the pages sound as you turn them, and how the combination of senses produces flash-backs stored in your cellular memory of decades past. I can't imagine a Kindle or iPad having the same effect on people in thirty years time.  Finding this book has reminded me to gather up some of Tahlia and Darby's favourite kiddie books and put them in lovely bundles tied with string for future generations.

What is a bird after he is four days old?

Five days old.


And my all time favourite:

What is big and red and eats rocks?

A big red rock eater.

Do you remember the books you read when you were a kid?


Do you still have any of them?


What is your all time favourite?

Day 917

A dining room is not an office.


Nor is a suitcase.

Something has got to give.

This working off the dining table just isn't doing it for me anymore.

Look at it.  LOOK AT IT!

Deep Fried Dining Room

Deep Fried paperwork

Deep Fried office management

That is not an office.  It's a great big pile of confusion.  Perhaps I am giving the aluminium saucepans a bad name and this is in fact the source of my Alzheimer's?

For now, I will put it all in a great big suitcase and call it my mobile office. At least that will keep things tidy.

A little cleaner

Out of sight, out of mind?

These renovations have to commence real soon.  If I truly am going to be a sombrero wearing business woman, then I need an office (and my family need their dining table back).

Day 916

Let's pillow fight!!

Photo borrowed from www.pillowfightday.com 

I hate watching the news.  Particularly the news on commercial television. I'm not saying that the news isn't important - we all need to have a clue as to what is going on in the world - I just find it to be a very problem based reporting stream with very little solution offered.  The emphasis is on the negative without balancing it out with the positive.  We see all the problems and shit in the world with very little emphasis on the lovely wonderful happy happy joy joy that life offers people around the world every single day. So I don't watch it choosing instead to read the headlines on line.  But then I go visiting (like we have done this Easter) and the news is on while eating breakfast.  I try to block it out but it's hard when the volume is on FULL for the benefit of those who are more deep fried than me.  And thank goodness!!! Otherwise I would never have heard about International Pillow Fight Day. Finally something fun, light hearted and even a tad uplifting!

Hang on a minute?!

International Pillow Fight Day?!

Are you serious?

I am sooooooo blogging that!!

On Saturday 7 April there were massive pillow fights in cities all over the world. Amsterdam, Ann Arbor, Atlanta, Austin ... and that's just the "As" ... Baltimore, Barcelona, Basel ... all the way through to Zurich.

At first I thought Australia had bowed out of this international event, but luckily Sydney got a mention in there (it took place at Central Station).  What a wonderful idea! What better way to bring a sense of kid-nom and frivolity to an otherwise problem-based world than to have a massive pillow fight! What a great way to get people out of their living rooms and into the streets for some "I am totally out of my comfort zone" physical activity. What a great way to make use of those lumpy old dust-mite-infested sweat stained pillows hidden away in the bottom of the linen cupboard.  What a great way to get me listening to the news again ...

What a great excuse to go and start hitting my family around their heads.

When was the last time you had a pillow fight?

For more information on International Pillow Fight Day go to www.pillowfightday.com 

Day 915

Happy Easter everyone!!

How's it all going?  Have you had Easter egg hunts, hot cross buns and loads of chocolate yet?

We have done all that and more over the course of the last few days.  We started at the farm on Thursday night and spent Friday and Saturday with my folks, before heading to the coast yesterday arvo for the rest of the long weekend with Derek's folks.  It's been lovely and the weather has been sensational.

So, what's left for us? Well, I think there are probably bunnies and eggs and family togetherness and Ugg boots and flanny pyjamas and a walk to the beach in my immediate future.

How's your Easter Sunday shaping up?

Day 914

I got my eyes checked during the week. After years and years of wearing lovely little rectangular glasses I thought it might be time for an upgrade. It's been six years since my last check up.

I got my first glasses when I was in year 12 at school. My first set were pale pink plastic and they were ENORMOUS on my face. Well, come on, it was the 80s.  From there I went all gold and very Dynasty looking before then getting my first set of tortoise shell frames with (again) as much gold as I could muster.

You've all seen the set I have now ... thankfully they are still in style (I think?) but I figured it might be time to make a change. Not so much because my eyes are deteriorating, but because my wardrobe is.

Deep Fried Fruit

So I went to the optometrist.  Unlike previous visits where I go to the optometrist attached to a glasses shop, this time I went to a true doctor of optometry.  He's the guy we see for Darby's dyslexia.

It turns out my eyes are the one part of me that isn't succumbing to the evils of Deep Fried Fruitism.  My eyes are in fact the most fabulously fit part of my body.  It turns out, that after all these years, I don't actually need to wear glasses at all! My eyes are great! (Are my eyes improving or did those other blokes just sell me little weak glasses to make some money off me?)

The doctor suggested that eyes will get tired ... and my lovely brown glasses can be used to give them a shot of adrenalin during times of fatigue ... but other than that, they might be best left in their case.

Huh.

Well what do you know.

There is some bits of me that aren't the least bit middle aged.

But ....but ....but I like wearing glasses.  Not wearing them would severely dent my image as a clever, deep thinking, highly intelligent, author/blogger/consultant. Shhhh, don't tell anyone, but for the sake of my inner Mrs Bucket (Keeping Up Appearances) I think I might keep them ... 

Day 913

Today is Good Friday - and indeed it is good.

We will eat fish today because that's what you do on Good Friday.

I'm not much into fish. I'll eat the occasional tin of tuna.  Perhaps I will order salmon at a restaurant from time to time.  I might even cook up some crumbed fish fillets (of the frozen variety) at home.  But it's not my preferred choice of food. I'm just not a mermaid!

But we all know fish is good for us .... brain food and all that ... special oils that could actually keep Deep Fried Fruitisms like Alzheimer's at bay.  So I should be cooking it ...

Who am I kidding.  I'm not going to be bloody cooking it.  In my mind I am this fabulous Mum who does clever things with fish (and likes it) but in reality I just don't love fish.  However today ... today is Good Friday .... so today there will be fish ... coz my lovely Mum is cooking it.

And for the rest of the time I will continue to take fishy tables of the Omega 3 variety and hope they might magically transform my Deep Fried brain into a wonderland of intelligence and magnificently original thoughts, PLUS I will be feeding my kids this bottle of Nature's Own Omega Delight which magically appeared in my Blogger Conference bag of goodies (we got the orange flavoured one). They're a clever mob those Nature's Own people.

Happy Good Friday peeps. Hope you get a good dose of fish oils today and perhaps also get to spend some quality time with family.  

Day 912

Photo borrowed from DEEWR website 

My boy can't read.  He is trying his best but he finds it so incredibly difficult.  Dyslexia is like that. It turns an easy learned task into a constant battle of vision, brain messages, inward/outward muscles, eye strain, remembering words and spelling.  It is not something that comes easily and quickly. Every single reading experience is strained and stressful.

We are doing everything we can to help. Eye exercises, tutoring, glasses, communication, support and encouragement.  But as NAPLAN draws closer the stress for this Mummy increases because, while I am keeping him calm and nonchalant about the whole thing, I am in inner turmoil at the injustice and pain of it all.  If it was just the reading side of the business I wouldn't be feeling quite so sad.  We know there is a weakness there and that is fine ... everyone has weaknesses of some description ... he has far too many strengths for his weakness to become a highlight.  But the problem is his strengths can't be seen in the NAPLAN process. Because to show how competent he is at maths he has to first be able to read the bloody question! To show how well he comprehends stories, predicts events, anticipates endings and creates new story lines he has to first be able to read the freakin' story in question! To be able to write his name on the front of the paper he has to first be able to read the instruction that tells him he needs to write his name,.

I am exhausted.  Other dyslexia mums warned me there is no magic light switch. They told me I could hope and pray and visualise and believe all I wanted that he would suddenly be cured, but in reality that is not going to happen.  All we can do is manage the situation and get our kids through this reading based school system as unscathed as possible.

Well bugger that.  I don't want to simply MANAGE.  I want to make changes. I want to lead and I want to fight.  These kids are not stupid.  They can't read but that is such a small part of their story.  My challenge isn't in being able to magically cure Darby's eyesight ... my challenge is to magically change the structure of education so that the dyslexia is recognised as a visual impairment that can be overcome, not by forcing these kids to continually bust their eyeballs trying to keep up with a book based system, but by being supported by alternative education options that acknowledge their strengths and celebrates their intelligence.

Today is the day I start my fight. If you have any information on dyslexia and the Australian system I would love for you to share with me. If I am missing a valuable resource or link, I'd love for you to make me aware of it.  In the meantime I need to write a letter to our great Midnight Oil burning politician in the hope that he PERSONALLY may just open up his eyes and read it.

Dear Minister Garrett ........ 

Day 911

Image borrowed from Google Images

Strange things happen when you hit 40.  There are a whole swag of Deep Fried Fruitisms that can muddle a saggy brain.

We all know about the whole random sprouting hair thing - for me it is chest hair, chin hair, and the interesting "neck" growth that could only be described as a mane.  It seems stray hair is not just a female deep fried fruit phenomenon either. I found Mr DFF in front of the mirror with an electric shaver in his ear this morning ... he seemed to be hacking away at some rogue ear hairs ... weed whacker style.

The whole hair conundrum, while being a tad inconvenient, isn't the end of the world though.  There are wonderful inventions like tweezers, razors, Nair, wax, laser treatments and torturous epilady contraptions to keep the beards at bay.  There is even a yellow pages full of trusty professionals eager to de-fluff you at a moment's notice.  It's all very manageable.

The new Deep Fried Fruitism that I am concerned about is memory loss.  I feel that perhaps growing up with aluminium saucepans may have frazzled my brain and I may be experiencing early onset Alzheimer's.  Is there a test for that?

It could of course be just that I have brain overload on account of carrying around all those hats.  But as I get closer and closer to finding that one big replacement sombrero I am thinking perhaps it's not just a heavy head, but perhaps a neurologically challenged one.

I write lists and lovely messages (which I date) and days later I look at them with brand new eyes wondering who the whiz kid was that wrote such clever stuff and accomplished such amazing things.

I can watch a TV show or movie and a week later have no concept as to the ending nor the twist to the story.  Watching it again is like a brand new experience which makes me a very cheap date.

I can walk out the door with only ONE job to do and when I arrive at my destination have absolutely no idea what I am doing there, what day it is or who sent me.

Yesterday I was tasked with filling up the car at the Coles petrol station using the wonderful 20cents a litre discount voucher, only to realise as I was half way through filling the tank that I had instead ended up at Woolworths where the lovely voucher was completely useless. I then also discovered that my Woolies card had no points on it so I ended up paying full price for my fuel.  (Not to mention I also managed to break the clip on the little petrol "door" on the car which means I can no longer close it.)

At what point do I declare myself neurologically challenged and memory deficit?

Or do I perhaps just pack everything up, grab my sombrero and take a two week long siesta under a palm tree?

Day 910

Can I hear you say WOOT WOOT?

Come on ... louder .... I want to hear a really big WOOT WOOT!!!

Everybody ... altogether now ... WOOT WOOT!!!!

Today is my fantastically gorgeous generous adventurous fabulous Mum's birthday.  That's a hell of a lot of "ous" words right there, but what else can I say about Mum?  She's an "ous" type of gal ...

She was given a second chance at life almost 30 years ago and hasn't stopped living since.  She climbs mountains, treks through jungles, builds cyclone proof community centres for remote island villagers in the Solomon Islands. She volunteers to help transport the sick, she volunteers to help me, she volunteers to put in watering systems in Papua New Guinea. She's not afraid to break a nail, sweat, or pull a muscle as she shovels shit.  But she'll make damn sure she looks good as she does it. She'll never hire in a gardener, cleaner or painter preferring always to do it herself.  Yet she's stylish, glamorous and likes fashion and glitter in her life. She's not afraid of manual labour or hard work in general.  She's as strong as an ox but as pretty as picture.  She'll travel hours to see a great show, or to attend a lunch with family or to follow us if we decide to go somewhere else for Christmas.  She's not one to sit in her comfort zone. Nothing is ever too hard or nowhere is ever too far for my mum.  She's motivational, inspiring and down right AMAZING.  And she gives great Nanny cuddles - the kids adore her.

So I think that deserves a bloody loud Woot Woot.  Don't you?

WOOOOT WOOOOOT.

Happy birthday Mum.

Day 909

I'm off to buy a sombrero! 

Lots of things are happening that are all pointing towards me having to gather all my hats and trading them for a huge sombrero.  

I have always been proud of my many hats ... and have managed to keep them very separate from each other.  My consulting hat, my mentoring/coaching hat, my author hat, my blogger hat, my cheerleading hat and my business hat.  They were all neatly lined up on the hat rack, each one being worn on its own depending on the day and the priorities.  

Last week my marketing guru - Amalia from arpace - said that she needed to "brand" me.  Brand me?  How terribly cowboy. I'm not sure if a tattoo on my arse is the way to go, I'd prefer to stick with hats. But if I were to be branded, what would my brand look like?

Last week I was chairing and speaking at a conference.  I handed out my business card ... the consultant one.  I also handed out my author one.  I also left details about Sirens Cheerleaders.  Three different hats in one outing.  

Then I went to the blogger conference.  I had no business card for Deep Fried Fruit.  So which one should I hand out?  I decided on the author one but that gives no details for DFF. How incredibly confusing.  I have always tried to keep this blog separate because it's my outlet, my middle aged ramblings, my mummy space, my Leanne zone, but is it perhaps time it becomes something more?  The sessions at the conference suggested "yes". There was a lot of talk about branding. I starting thinking my Miss Amalia was right.  

Then I won the Disney trip and I realised that was not only a great bloggy opportunity but it was also a chance to promote myself as a consultant, coach and mentor. It was also a chance to promote myself as an author and the launch of my new product line.  I realised in that moment that I had to ditch all my hats and buy one big arse hat.  It was time to go sombrero shopping. 

The second phone call I made after that Disney win (the first of course being to my family) was to Amalia.  I get it now, I said.  I agree with you. It's time I was branded.  Perhaps I need to ditch all my titles - consultant, mentor, coach, cheerleader, author, business owner, blogger - and just become Leanne. One great big sombrero wearing Leanne.  Amalia got excited.  She has a vision for me that possibly surpasses my own.  

Day 908

And that is the end of Blogger Con 2012.


I am back in Canberra-ville safe and sound.  My suitcase is unpacked, clothes in the wash, goody bag emptied and treats handed out.  I'm a little disappointed that I only took a couple of photos which is a bugger, but they were the photos that counted the most.

Here I am with my roomy - Mad Mother

And one of my "original" blogger besties - Diminishing Lucy

And now it's time to get back to the real world and catch up on everything I put on hold last week.  Which starts with cleaning my "desk" and working out how I am going to operate using the dining room as an office while my plans for the renovations get sorted. I want my new office now!!! That's not unreasonable is it?