Get Into A Book

I watched an excellent show on TV a couple of weeks ago about a girl who finds her way into her favourite novel, Pride and Prejudice, via a door in her bathroom. Lots of fun and a gratuitous wet-shirted Darcy scene. Very nice.
This idea of entering a book and mixing with the characters is not unusual to me as I have enjoyed reading Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next series. Thursday is a literary detective and flits in and out of books (under the guidance of Miss Haversham) tracking down all sorts of trouble.

Anyhoo. While I was washing the dishes this evening  (a past-time I find lends itself to daydreaming), I was thinking about what it would really be like to find one’s self in a book.

Pride and Prejudice is not really a favourite of mine. No hot water, no flushing toilets. Corsets. Lump that with Wuthering Heights, which I do love but Heathcliff is even more beastly than Darcy and again you have sanitation issues. Plus all the crazy Earnshaw hangers on.
No thanks – I’d like somewhere I can plug a kettle in and use a teabag. Preferably without some crazy ghost lady scrabbling at the bedroom window.

Heathcliff it's meeeee!

 

I’ve been reading a lot of Joanne Harris recently and aside from the joy of being stuck in a chocolate shop I would be worried about the malicious witchcraft and horrific acts of revenge that tend to occur in her novels.
Then there’s Annie Proulx. Harsh, unforgiving cattle country or harsh, unforgiving fishing towns. Got enough of both of those on my back doorstep thanks.

Dracula, Frankenstein. Yeah, but no, but yeah, but no.

Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Infinite possibilities for fun far outweighed (in my opinion) by the inherent risks of being read poetry by a Vogon, getting horrifically drunk on a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster or having to spend the whole time with Marvin the Paranoid Android and drink incredibly bad tea.

 

Brain the size of a planet and they get me doing this...

 

Maybe I could hang out with Scout Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. That would be cool. I’ve always had a soft spot for Atticus and I’d love to be mothered by Calpurnia. Tree climbing, bike riding, holidays, comfort food and a sensible Dad. Call me boring but this really appeals to me.
So if I go missing for a while you know where to look. But don’t be surprised if you find a dripping-wet-shirt-clad Darcy in there too. And a packet of Tim Tams.

 

 

Book image: FreeDigitalPhotos

And So To Write

 

I have friends who write every day.
Quirky, interesting and fun stories.
I admire my friends.
Everyday they write and I think to myself

How can I write every day?
How can I write quirky, fun and interesting stories every day?
I don’t get out a lot. I don’t meet a lot of people or see a lot of things to inspire me.
Mostly I stay home and grow my family and do everyday growing family things.
How can I write anything quirky, interesting and fun about that?

Then I realised I was thinking about it the wrong way. If I can’t see quirky, fun and inteesting in my own life how am I going to see it anywhere else?

My life is exactly the spot to find quirky, fun and interesting writing inspiration every day.

Now I am inspired.

 

Tales From Behind the Boat

Just Close Your Eyes….

 I have an overactive imagination. Good for when I want to write stories or create pictures but useless for getting a good night’s sleep. I am the first to confess I am easily scared. Little things can turn into a big deal. When I was young imagined noises would leave me frozen in bed, unable to move, convinced something scary was standing at my bedside. I would even imagine I could feel breathing down my neck. That doesn’t happen so much now as those once imagined noises are  now real, mundane things like the baby crying, the dog barking or the next door neighbours having a party. Things that keep me awake now are not the imaginary monsters at the foot of the bed. Well, not usually; I try not to look too hard at the shadows on the floor or in the doorway when it is dark.

I have a friend who writes very cool stories and she is able to give me the heebie- jeebies with such mundane, everyday objects as shovels, clocks or hatpins ( the hatpin was a doozie!).  Well I had a mundane object moment last night.

You know when you’re daydreaming and maybe staring at the floor tiles or the ripples on the wallpaper and sometimes you can makes pictures out of the random lines, bumps and cracks?  No? Well, like I said, I have an overactive imagination.

Last night I was lying in bed and I happened to look through the plastic water bottle on my bedside table. I could see through it because it was sitting in front of the clock radio. 

So through this red-lit water bottle, in an otherwise dark room, what do I see?

Faces. Clear as day. Looked like they were sleeping. So the water looked red from the light of the clock radio and the bumps and lines of the water bottle were distorted and mis-shapen due to the water refraction. See, I know there are scientific, cold hard facts and explanations for these things….mostly.

But a little voice inside my head said ‘Freaky faces! SHUT YOUR EYES!’

So I did. Then I opened them again. I looked at the faces in the water bottle. They still looked like they were sleeping.

Then the little voice inside my head said ‘WHAT IF THEY OPEN THEIR EYES?’

I kinda stopped breathing, I shut my eyes again, opened my eyes and looked sideways, but not directly at the bottle again…I didn’t want to make direct eye contact with a freaky water bottle face….

 ‘They’re not there, right? It’s just an optical illusion, right?  It’s a BOTTLE OF WATER for Pete’s sake! But…WHAT IF THEY OPEN THEIR EYES?’
 

I put the bottle on the floor and rolled over and shut my eyes tight and tried to go to sleep.

I’m taking my water in a glass tonight.

How to Ruin Dinner in 6 Easy Steps

1 Cook delicious pasta sauce using bacon, beef, garlic, capsicum, red wine and herbs.

2 Simmer sauce for half an hour enjoying wonderful aroma.

3 Put large pot of water on to boil.

4 Test sauce for thickness. Too runny? Add one or two teaspoons of cornflour mixed with a small amount of water.

5  Watch and wonder at pasta sauce frothing and bubbling out of the pot and all over stove.

6  Check packet of corn flour. Put on glasses. Swear at packet of Bicarbonate of Soda.

7 Send husband out for burgers and chips.

8 Enjoy.

My Hero!

I posted a disgruntled Cookie to some friends on Facebook and he ended up here.

So to keep the Good Old Days Sesame Street ball rolling ( before Mr Snuffleupagus became visible to all and sundry) I am sharing my favourite muppet…well one of them (I have a list!)

Super Grover!

and he’s CUTE!

Say Aaaah!

I had two hours away from the kids this week.
I got to put my feet up, shut my eyes, and lie back in a comfy chair.
It was blissful…

if only

for the few brief moments when I could block out the screaming drill, the two pairs of hands in my mouth and the sound of that sucky-pipe thing.
Yes I had a tooth extracted. Well to be exact I had a tooth smashed out of my mouth. Extracted makes it sound clean and simple and effortless…and quick.

It was none of the above.
I was told it would be a straight forward procedure taking no more than half an hour.
Excuse while I laugh so much I fall off my chair. I am older and wiser now. Okay I’m sitting up again.
The ’simple’ ‘half hour’ procedure took an hour and a half.
The dentist..who I jokingly called Dr Pain two days ago ( he gets to keep that name now)…definitely needs a course in body language. After 15 minutes of drilling I was told I would feel some pulling and cracking sounds and it would be over. This was not to be.
Instead I spent the next hour or so listening to him sighing dramatically and saying ‘Oh no’ and watching sharp/blunt/grabby instruments of tooth torture go into my nouth and come out increasingly bloody and with NO tooth attached to them.
For a self confessed dentistophobe (yes I made that word  up) this is a situation I would run a mile from. But I was stuck in the chair with hallf a tooth still stuck in my head ( the crown broke off leaving the roots behind). I went to a nice place and tried to ignore the gore fest happening in my mouth. Eventually those roots gave up the good fight and I was sewn up (two stitches!) and told that I had an incredibly thick jaw bone ( am I a thick head????!) that was worse than a wisdom tooth extraction. (I’m glad I was under a general anaesthetic when I had them done!)
So I have to go back to see Dr Pain to get the stitches removed next week. He says it will only take five minutes……

Do You Have Super Powers?

You all know The Incredibles. You’ve heard of Superman. You’ve read The Phantom. You’ve watched Spiderman. You could probably list at least half a dozen or more Super heroes with a variety of super powers.

Allow me to introduce a new kid on the block…..

Reverse Osmosis Boy

Exhibit A

 Don’t be fooled; that gorgeous gummy grin hides a super power that can bring a grown man, sobbing, to his knees.

It is frightening; One moment everything is fine. Everything is DRY. Everything is CLEAN. You blink. That’s all it takes. And your world has changed. Everything is wet. Everything is covered in poo. And Reverse Osmosis Boy lies there amidst it all smiling his super smile ( see Exhibit A).

You may be wondering what super powers I possess.

I am Mummy.

Enough said.

My morning wake up

In the morning, once  the boys are all watered, fed and dressed ready for the school run I turn on the idiot box for them so I can have a shower, get dressed and feel human.

Okay.I lied. I have a 30 second shower, get dressed and watch TV with the kids so I can watch this….

I'd like to see the swimsuit please. Dribble

 Wait til you see him in action…. no kidding this guy is always doing push ups. Quite frankly its strangely….distracting.

Hmmm. where was I???

This isn’t chidren’s TV. This is for mums. Definitely.

Beats a hot cup of tea.

Now where was I?

 

Donna and the Science Geek

The new series of Dr Who started a few weeks ago (finally) and I love Sunday nights again now. Mostly because of the bootylicious Mr Tennant but now also because he has a sidekick with BRAINS!

Donna is brilliant; she speaks her mind, she gives the Doctor a hard time, she moans, she complains, she back chats, she questions the good Doctor’s authority, she questions his decisions, his choices, his beliefs, she shouts, she swears, she threatens and she makes the Doctor THINK. She is also a winner because she doesn’t make Bambi eyes at him. Hurray!

The funny thing is that The MIlkman can’t stand Donna. Probably for all the reasons that I like her. Oh yeah and probably because she’s not running around in tight jeans and high heels screaming for help like a bloody princess. Donna’s more your fish wife than damsel in distress.

Yes, Martha Jones was clever. But Donna Noble is clever and normal and this makes it more possible for the average Doctor Who fan (I know we’re all special really!) to live vicariously through her.