#5: Visit a lighthouse
I stole this idea from http://jandyslifeinwords.blogspot.com. Thanks!
As you know, my parents shouted all their descendents a trip to the coast last weekend, and I knew I had to seize my chance!
Lighthouses are intrinisically awesome. There’s the ocean right there, historic seafaring tales, shipwrecks, and of course I love the idea of a doughty solitary keeper slowly going mad as he spends years alone, saving the lives of people he never sees.
What’s not to love?
The Warden’s Head Lighthouse near Lake Burrell is nice and easy to get to (so no solitary keeper, sadly for my epic imagination – in fact it is quite clearly run by electricity, since there are power lines right next to it). You can literally drive right up to it (or crash into it, if you’re that way inclined).
There were other people there who said whales were passing, but I didn’t see any myself (my nephew said he did, but he sees a LOT of things I don’t). I didn’t see any cthulhu, either (not this time). Like pretty much anywhere next to water, it was a beautiful location. Ocean = win.
I hope the romantic ideal of the lighthouse sticks in my mind and eventually produces a tale. Pretty sure it will, and if I remember I’ll post it here.
And here’s another bite of awesome pie from bookshelfporn.com
Day at the Beach
This is my interpretation of Steff Metal’s suggestion #66 (Open an etsy shop). Every so often I’ll post an extra blog entry with a short story – and tag them all with the “Short stories” category so you can find them easily.
This one is (clearly) inspired by my nephew at the beach last weekend. Apologies if you’re on the monthly short story list, because this is the story for August. (If you want to get on the list, email fellissimo[at]hotmail[dot]com.)
Day at the Beach
“It’s a dragon!” Timmy squealed. “A dragon under the water!”
“Yes dear,” said Timmy’s Mum.
“It’s got big teeth!” said Timmy. “Look!”
“Yes dear,” said Timmy’s Mum.
“He’s coming closer!” said Timmy.
“That’s nice,” said Timmy’s Mum.
“He’s gonna EAT me!” said Timmy.
“I bet you taste nice,” said Timmy’s Mum.
“Look!” said Timmy. “There’s a rocket!”
“Run!” screamed Timmy’s Mum. “Hide!”
The rocket landed on the beach.
“Bad dragon,” said the alien. “Stop being silly and let’s go home.”
#172: Macabre Expression of Love
Cast your minds back, if you will, to the year 2007. It was a gentler time, when global warming was only just invented and Kevin Rudd was super exciting.
It was a time when CJ and Louise fell in love. (Well, CJ did. I was WAY ahead of the times.)
To celebrate the fact that we’d been dating for a WHOLE two months, CJ and I drove down the coast in a car that has since gone to the garage in the sky*.
Along the way, while driving on the King’s Highway between Canberra and Bungendore, CJ delightedly pointed out dozens of teddy bears attached to the trees. Some were nailed on. Others were attached by the neck. Still others were wedged into narrow cracks between branches. All wore fixed expressions of delight.
My newly-awoken heart went pitter-pat. “Ah ha!” I thought quietly to myself. “I will return to this road someday, with this man in tow, and nail our love to this highway in the form of a slowly-disintegrating soft toy! In this fashion our love will endure, like a mutilated bear, and grow like rust forevermore. Our future progeny shall be carried carefully to this spot, and made to look in wonder upon the lasting glory of their parents’ strange love.”
Time passed, and we two were wed.
Last year (one year, one month and one day ago) we gathered in our hands:
our love
a good strong hammer
a bear
a marker
a length of wire
and several large nails.
Gazing rapturously at one another (while also being careful not to nail CJ’s fingers to the tree in a bloody reminder of our special day), we did this:
Today is the 18-month anniversary of our marriage (also roughly three and a half years since my original Notion of Bear). So on our way back from another coast trip, we went on a BEAR HUNT. Thanks to CJ actually having a memory, we found the bear. Our monument of love lives! (In fact, if you like microorganisms, it lives more than ever before.)
That red glow in my eyes is the glow of TRUE LOVE (and. . . um. . . so is the green colour in CJ’s eyes).
Play along at home: Nail a bear to a tree.**
Coming soon: Lighthouse! Waterfall! Alphabet! Food! Etc!
And here’s a picture of where CJ and I will go when we die (it’s from Bookshelfporn.com):
*ie, in Fyshwick
** I do not recommend using a real bear.
#172: Family Holiday
A family holiday can be a near-death experience.
As you probably gathered yesterday, I’ve just been to the coast as part of a group of NINE people, all my immediate family (and partners, and a kid). My parents are unspeakably nerdy (insert “apple falling from tree” comment here), so my mind is now a confused haze of Rummikub, dominoes, Carcassonne, Taboo, bridge, up and down the river, and laughing at the boys actually playing the full version of LOTR Risk. And I’m buzzing on a chocolate-and-lemonade high. And a little nauseous for no apparent reason. And I smell of salt and of sitting by a heater.
It was a strangely peaceful weekend. My nephew is 5 now, so although he’s full of enthusiasm for EVERYTHING, he’s also capable of sitting and having a conversation some of the time. And he doesn’t cry unless he’s actually hurt. With eight adults, looking after him was a breeze. And we all get on – pretty remarkable for any group this size.
So I have absolutely nothing to write about – just cliches of love and warmth. Drama goes best in fiction, in my opinion.
Here’s the last of the “Beautiful Libraries” from Candida Hofer’s Thames&Hudson book:
Tomorrow: Macabre expression of love (there’s a teddy bear involved. . . and a large nail)
#119: Eat Fish and Chips at the beach
You know what’s cool? The ocean. You know what else is cool? Lard. Combine the two, and the world is made of magic.
Guess where I am right now (or at least, as I prepare this post)?
I am in a beachside cottage with my parents (who are paying for the whole thing), my nephew, my brother and his wife, and my sister and her husband. Oh, and CJ 🙂 As I write I am eating post-fish and chips M&Ms and listening to the sound of waves trying and failing to lap over the threshold as I sit happily by a heater. The sound is also similar to:
Large amounts of cardboard ripping.
A house slowly falling down.
An intermittent waterfall.
Static.
Several old people muttering and shushing one another in the next room.
The fish and chips was excellent, thank you. It is the perfect holiday food.
In other news, Ben sent me his comments on H.P. Lovecraft’s original sketch of Cthulhu. He said:
This teaches us 3 things:
1. Lovecraft really couldn’t draw. Really.
2. Cthulhu resembles a Potato more than is generally recalled.
3. Damn that is cool handwriting.
The picture is from image shack
#171: Explore the attic
My parents, presiding as they are over an empty nest, came up with the wacky notion that my sister and I should get our long-forgotten randomnesses out of the spider-infested boxes in their attic (specifically, the area between the ceiling and the roof).
It’s a mysterious land of leaves and dust and fluffy, itchy insulation, where the adventurer must tread carefully on the supporting beams or plummet to an itchy demise.
After a certain amount of procrastination, we brought down all our sh– all our stuff and began the long process of oohing, ahing, and throwing away. Yesterday was the big day.
My sister is pictured here, with her husband giving moral support.
Some of the boxes disintegrated underneath when picked up. Several plastic bags dissolved when touched. It was exciting stuff. I found boxes stuffed with my old diaries – millions of words of pre-emo angst – and threw them in the bin. I am pleased to report that I did not then cease to exist (the concern which caused me to store them all in the first place).
It’s very, very sad to sort through your old loves and dreams and throw them away. I was reminded of several lives I almost had. My sister and I both slept uneasily last night, although we feel better today.
I also found: several porcelain dolls my grandmother made for me; a Bible from the 1870s; a silver purse; a string bag I made when I was ten and living in Papua New Guinea; a red silk bag with a bell-fastener; and. . . a cat skin.
I kept all of those, except the cat skin, which my grandmother (the other one) gave me long ago after assuring me it was secondhand when she found it. How. . . reassuring?
I did not find an enormous flower made of books. Perhaps next time. This is from bookshelfporn.com:
S#85: Random Club
On Steff Metal’s list of 101 ways to cheer yourself up (which you can find if you go to steffmetal.com and click on the link on the right) she wrote:
Open your gig guide, close your eyes, and point. That’s where you’re going tonight. Dress inappropriately, and make the best of it.
Since I am not at all acquainted with Canberra’s music scene (sad but true), I choose one of those free “What’s on in Canberra” magazines for my assigned awesomeness. I ended up with a craft day at the National Museum. One tiny problem: it was a craft day for under sixes.
So I borrowed a 5-year old “beard” from a friend (who was pathetically grateful), and wore a whole lot of purple.
There were about thirty under-sixes and free fairy bread, so it was a pretty unique experience (for me as a non-mum, anyway). My beard liked the giant lego. . .
. . . and the ability to glue things to other things.
To be fair, he was annoyed there was no TV or computer. But no tantrums, so all good.
One of the coolest things about the preschool crowd (other than not needing to change nappies any more) is they are the ultimate absurd comedians. My beard said things like:
“Oh! This is the forest I came to last week. I saw kangaroos and dragons.”
“Last week, I came to this farm. There were horses, and sheep, and pigs. The pigs got killed. They were healthy pigs, very clean. And then I killed them.”
“Look! A rocket!”
“Are there dragons there? Dragons eat people.” [gales of delighted laughter]
“My aunt had a baby. It was in her stomach last week, and then it came out – of her BUM!” [gales of delighted laughter – the baby in question is now walking]
As you can tell, he’s recently discovered the existence of “last week”, and seen “How to Train Your Dragon.”
I once showed him a dead octopus, which he said was, “Yucky for eating.” I can only imagine he’d have a similar response to this pic from Flickr:
Three-Ingredient Thursday: Strawberry and Banana Milkshake
Fine. I admit it. I’m posting Thursday’s post on Wednesday. Today got away from me a bit.
Also, the title might kind of give away the ingredients. Luckily, I forgot to photograph them before blending them, so here’s one photo with the final product + two of the three main ingredients. Another FABULOUS way to get your fruit serves in.
In other news, here’s an extra special cthulhu from
http://www.boingboing.net/2010/07/19/neil-gaimans-cthulkh.html
S#51: Guilty Pleasure
If there’s anything I excel at, it’s guilty pleasures. You want ’em? I gots ’em. Today was meant to be my final day of total digestive goodness – so much for that. I fell off the rails last Saturday, and haven’t yet managed to get back on (but I *did* make my weight goal, plus established along the way that I’m not lactose intolerant – but I am still sick. Next I’ll try gluten intolerance, then see if it’s IBS).
I bet you’re all thinking, “Oh, here we go. Another blog entry about how Louise went and bought three packs of junk food and ate them all in a sitting.” But no! Today I indulged myself by taking myself out to a charmingly eccentric cafe I know and ordering a toasted turkey foccacia with avocado, camembert and cranberry jam. While reading a Terry Pratchett.
One of the things I like about this cafe (apart from the fact that they generally pop next door to borrow an avocado immediately after taking my order) is the view. I like the mix of alley wall, tin church, and lamp post.
It was all very convivial and even good for my health.
And then I went and bought three packs of junk food.
Here’s a special treat for today’s awesome picture. Yep, it’s Felicia Day. You’re welcome.
#78: New job
This entry is PG for moderately bad swearing (at the end).
One of the best (and worst) things about my day job – private tutoring – is that things are constantly getting shuffled around. I’m about to take on some new students, so I get all the thrills and spills of a new job without losing my old job.
Here in Canberra we divide ourselves into the North Side and the South Side, and my relationship across that divide (with CJ) was considered exotic and strange from the beginning (despite the fact that it takes around thirty minutes to travel that distance). When we married, I said tearful goodbyes to all my Northside family and friends, and moved to CJ’s side of town. I’ve been slooooowly evolving my tutoring schedule ever since, so perhaps in some distant future I won’t have to go through the Glenloch Interchange two to four times every single work day.
To me, the improving schedule is terribly exciting. I even have a few students that I teach from home now (something that wasn’t possible pre-marriage, since I lived in a series of underage-drug-addled/surreal/excitingly overcrowded/peeping-tom-prone share houses – when I wasn’t living in a non-bathroomed garage or a fungus-infested hovel without drinkable water).
Tutoring is where the art of scheduling reaches its most adrenalin-fueled highs. That’s right. I said it.
I have a (highly blue-tacked and thus adjustable) schedule in my room, with different regions in different colours. You’d think colourful stationary was enough – you’d be wrong. The REALLY exciting thing about the tutoring schedule is that my ideal workload is three hours a day, and the key tutoring zone is after school but before dinner – which is to say, 4-7pm. Which means that in order for things to actually work, I need to travel instantaneously. Yes, that’s right! The future is here!
Sorta.
My schedule is pretty tight at the moment, but I reckon I have room for two more students. So the game is on to find them. What will happen next? Will someone from the far end of town tempt me out of my new zone of employ with delicious afternoon tea and an angel-faced student with absolutely no grasp of maths? Will I find another young face for my cats to glare at every Thursday afternoon? Will I find a mature-age student I can actually teach during the day? Will my existing families get so annoyed at yet another schedule adjustment that they fire me?
I’ll let you know!
Coming soon:
Guilty pleasure
Write your own alphabet
Three-Ingredient Thursday: Snack
Visit a freakin’ waterfall!
Midnight Snackage (with my sister and bro-in-law, who are visiting, yay!)
. . . and more
As usual for July, here’s a pretty pretty picture tangentially related to “When Good Libraries Go Bad”. This is from http://www.llbbl.com/data/RPG-motivational/images/
Felicity Banks 