Magazines

I have always bought magazines, even subscribed to some, mainly american western horse ones, which cost a fortune in Australia, but stuff all if you subscribe. I have taken to only buying one gossip type each week, but it must contain recipes.  I will probably never evey cook anything from the recipes, but at the moment it is a pre-requisite, i do the monster crossword and file the magazine on my magazine pile.  I also get a house/garden mag each month/week. I dont throw them out.  Ever.  I found have Better Homes and Gardens from about 8 years ago in the Bermuda Triangle, i flick through them, and tear out the good recipes.  I even thought about buying farm machinery magazine the other day.  Yes i need a tractor.

While in a coffe shop in Evans Head, i discovered Frankie, i know it has been around for ever, i have read it before, but this time i fell in love.  I even stole a copy.  Wait.  Elvis stole it, i wrapped it in his newspaper and gave it to him to carry out.  Partly because i was in love, but mainly because it has a huge article on dolls houses.  Madonna and Miffy are both considering renovating theirs so i though they would love the article. I even thought a dolls house would be fun.  Yep, need another hobby. Not. 

I have been to 4 news agents since then and i cannot find a copy of Frankie.  I might have to subscribe.  

Couple of Sundays

So it appears i have not been around since Jan 3rd.  I had better review my last blog so i dont repeat myself. Dog vs Magic Mushrooms, check.  Christmas Day, check.  New years eve, bundy snorting and vomit, check. Impromptu camping, KFC Kilcoy (or lack there of), check.

Since then i have had some blank days.  Really i dont remember anything.  I have been on holidays for a bit, and the days seem to roll into the next.  I have happy days and sad days, sometimes both in the same day, actually mostly in the same day, hopefully when you have seen me, if you have seen me, it has been during the happy  less insane part. 

I did go camping.  With Elvis and the boys and 2 of their friends.  I had an anxiety attack leading up to departure, during the packing phase and even before this when i was deciding  whether to stay or go. 

I am just going to add that this blog is taking fucking forever to write.  Tall boys computer is really pissing me off.

So when TT#1 said she would leave her air conditioned house even after we have been warned of an impending heatwave, to house sit in my queenslander, with a swimming pool but no air con and look after my fur babies, i had no excuse not to go.  Plus the tall and the short were looking forward to camping, actually not camping so much as they are 13 and 16, but the fact that the camp grounds are full of pretty girls who can all surf and ride a skate board. They are now the alley cats we used to talk about when we first started camping at Evans Head about 15 years ago.  Tall boy drove me down, i must say i was not so nervous, except when we had to merge onto the highway, its ok, we survived without an accident or a speeding ticket , he doesnt read signs as often as you should, and for this it became a quiz all the way down "what did that last sign say ?" needless to say, tall boy quit driving at Chinderah, he was bored of it and wanted me to stop quizzing him mostly.

Day one, set up,  cant remember anything else.  The next morning, Elvis is cleaning a table and is stung by a bee.  I know this because when i got back from my morning walk/newspaper/milk/magazine trip he was sitting in a chair, all red.  Yes he was red, and puffy.  He showed me where he was stung on the little finger, his hand resembled a cartoon hand.  It was at this point i offered him a zyrtec OR a ride to the hospital.  I was secretly hoping the antihistimine would work and my days plans would not be ruined.  Is that selfish?  I am a Leo, have i told you this?  Anyhow, off to hospital, turns out we should have called an ambulance and it was one of the worst reactions they had seen in a while. 5 hours later,  loads of drugs, couple bags of fluids, and a prescription for an Epipen, we arrive back at camp. Elvis put me in charge of looking after and administering adrenalin should he be stung again. Someone asked if i was going to start bee keeping (name witheld).

In total Elvis spent one afternoon at campsite, one day in hospital, three days at work and then another day and half at camp until i decided we should pack up and go home.  The weather was turning and for those of you who have been to Evans, it puts on a pretty mean storm.  I was so happy to be at home.  Isnt that sad.  The beach was beautiful, i even got to do some surfing when i could get my board off the boys. It was usually brought back to me when the surf had gone to shit and i was so sunburnt from waiting.  I did get some waves, the water was warm and so clear.  It truly is a beautiful place.  When i grow up i might move there, you can ride your horse on the beach.  That is my happy place (horse on beach) if anyone is interested.

So as we did not camp with any of our fellow alcoholics, we didnt drink as much as we usually do when camping.  You know the kind of holiday when you need to detox when you get home?  Not needed.  I did however find Long Island Iced Tea in a cask.  The Goon is back.  My boys did not know what a goon was, nor did they know you could use the empty one as a pillow, or a pool float.  Kids of the 70's would absolutely know this.

Since being home i have started to re-invent my office (aka Bermuda Triangle).  I have started buying an unusual amount of magazines, especially those with recipes in them that i will never ever cook, and cushions.  I have moved furniture and even squeezed a dining table into my baby kitchen.  Should have seen the shock on the boys faces when i announced we would be eating at the table.  Sad.  I remember having to ask to be excused when i was finished eating.  Need to get back to talking over dinner.

I am still not smoking.  Despite the hypnotherapist saying i will not replace it with anything, i have replaced the smokes with:
magazines
alcohol
cushions
cooking (but not anything from the new magazines, just some old favourites)
gym
going to bed really really early
writing lists (yes more than before)
notebooks

I cannot decide if it is the smokes or my mental status or a combination of the two which has contributed to all or part of these replacements. 

Is it Tuesday?

What day is it? I have been so confused since. wow. christmas.

Update on Piper first:  he had recovered from his magic mushroom episode and was safe (but remained disorientated) at home, and was attacked by a couple of neighbourhood bullies, he appeared at the back steps covered in blood, instigating another trip to the after hours vet.  Stapled and bandaged and still on antibiotics post mushroom feast, he is going really well now, and owes me a few dollars. Felicity has her splint off also ( i may have mentioned this before) and is walking really well.  She has a sports splint on through the day, should she decide to take a bolt around the back yard, she has a little support.

Christmas day went off with a bang.  We had Santa Fever, Dad had some other illness and couldnt make it, which was sad, we missed him.  Loads of love and laughter, very little dessert.  There was a breakdown in communications and no one made dessert, fortunately we had a packet of white chocolate Tim Tams and a Ginger Bread house i didnt want to demolish, it was so perfect.  The kids were excited about crushing it, as they were with smashing santa with a stick.  Yes we had a pinjata.  We didnt leave the house all day, it was nice for a change.

Roll on new years, it was a quiet one, a few close friends came over, everyone seemed to have their own plans this year, a first for a while and this was kind of sad.  Our beautiful 'pommie' neighbours organised a game of cricket, there was Pimms and Cucumber sandwiches, and a million other things to eat and drink.  It was a great day with loads of laughs.

I am still not smoking, i think that i have replaced the cigarettes with alcohol.  Really, i know i can be the Queen of binge aka Boozy Von Drunk Alot, on occasions, i can admit that i do love a binge, and also why i loved Vegas.  But this night i cut myself off at 1/2 bottle of vodka/red bull, i was proud of this decision, except that i found out the next day i had just switched to Turkey because i was out of red bull.  I know this because i posted it on FB that night. Together we shot zambucca and apple schnapps (apparently) and the Axe lit up Bundy OP to prove it was the real deal, that the table wouldnt burn and that we could also encourage him to snort it up his nose.  After this was done (and please dont try this at home), and we could smell his nose hairs, i also thought his head was on fire, but it was one of the partiers cigarettes behind him, waving smoke which appeared to be coming out of his ears, everyone went to bed.  I did not.  The Axe and i sat up and i believe i was speaking a huge amount of shit resulting from overindulgence of alcoholic bevvies since lunchtime at the cricket, and it is now about 2 am.  I dont remember going to bed, i woke up and got in my swimmers and jumped in the pool, the hangover kicked in soon after and my fellow revellers who were all quite healthy the next day decided on a road trip.  Excellent.  Not. There was also alot of solutions to my problem:  "you should eat something" "you need to get up and move around".  No.  I have had hangovers like this for 20 years at least.  Miffy will remember the long trips back to Lismore with all the vomit stops.  I think i know what is best for my hangover.  Go to bed.  Get up and vomit. Go to bed.  Get up and vomit.  Continue in this sequence for next 12 hours.  Declare that you will never drink again and pray for someone to come in and kill you.  I requested suffocation by drowning in the morning swim (i knew the day would be ordinary). 

To prove a point, i grabbed a sausage, and ate it while i walked down the road.  Didnt work.  Dog ate the vomit.

Anywho, road trip was fun, we impromptu camped at Somerset Dam.  By impromptu i mean each family through some food in an esky, a tent, something to sleep on and a spare set of clothes.  I got to lay in the back while we drove the 2.5 hour trip.  We all went because we thought i was only an hour away.  Wasnt.  We set up camp.  We had no mattresses, no BBQ, no lights.  We did have cheese, sausages, chips and trifle.  Bad start.   So when we got desperate and sent the boys to get KFC (for hangover) from Kilcoy (i had googled Kilcoy KFC to make sure it was there), they came home with Hamburgers.  Guess what.  No KFC in Kilcoy.  It helps to open the page when you google as these probably all said that there is not KFC anywhere near Kilcoy.  Bummer.  Also can you imagine me eating trifle in the dark?  I am terrified of soggy cake. I am not sure if i have blogged about this before, one for the list if i have not, just to clarify the situation with food phobias.
While camping with your dearest friends is fun, this was particularly funny.  We had been ill prepared and spent the whole time laughing about it.  I had sore ribs from laughing.  We hugged trees and sat in the dark.

I also decided that i am not a fan of skiing, or the process.  I like the surf.  I like to fish off boats, i get a bit anxious going fast, and it really looks like an expensive hobby where you could actually get really hurt everytime you fall off, or lack the ability to walk the next day because your muscles are aching from trying not to fall off.  The thing i did like is the camping deal and the fact that all the ski boats have glitter on them (nice touch) and really cool names, mostly to do with not having any money.  The boys enjoyed it, but it seems they all sit around alot waiting for a turn.  So i guess you also need to have your own boat, again, expensive hobby.  I thought i would pimp my horse float, or my surf board, put some glitter on it and then i could feel like part of the club? Cookie voted to buy a jetski, you could have two sitting on it, and tow two: fun family outing.  Yep if you dont crash into the other million people on the dam driving fast, apparently jet skis are to boats, what boogie boards are to surfers.  I am too anxious for such a sport.  I am trying to have this anxiety diagnosed and have some drugs dispensed to help me survive, will keep you posted on the outcome. Perhaps should go back for Hypnosis with Miss I, it seems we could sort out our whole lives through hypnotherapy.  Nice.