A Matter of Time

It was the Mahjong Nazi's birthday today, 69 years (and we love her even when she is not playing Mahjong).

 Tonight, we celebrated the Majong Nazi's birthday, we celebrated her seven cancer free years. This is incredible, we all love her and as a registered nurse she had diagnosed her own death quite a few times.

I got a phone call telling me that my last breast MRI showed something concerning. I received this notification last Thursday, my appointment is tomorrow. My issue is that somehow it has taken approximately one month for my MRI results to go from the 1st floor of the hospital to the 2nd floor Breast Centre.

Have we moved so slowly in the area of breast cancer research that it now takes a month to send the results from an MRI which is abnormal to the next floor and a doctor to analyse them?'

Personally, I actually feel quite sick right now, and if I do have cancerous breast cells, I would have wanted to be informed earlier, if only by a month!
I don't want to sound like a drama queen, but actually I am frightfully afraid. My thoughts tonight are torn between getting hideously drunk, or mildly drunk. I'm going with mildly...

From the Petri Dish

Somedays when I try to spend a few hours after work getting the house in order, I realise that I am actually living in a scientific laboratory. If I open the fridge, or look at any table or bench space I will see either one of Riley's science experiments, or one of his rock collections. Sometimes these things really annoy me, especially when they grow mouldy and smelly in my fridge. Feeling particularly zen, today I did not get annoyed. Topday I appreciated Riley's incredibly creative mind.

Here's some of what I found, here's hoping he's onto something.

 This is a helping potion, apparently a few drops (good in wine I'm told) and you will get all of the help you need.

This is a potion for curing baldness, just a few drops and voila! I'll test it on my husband tonight.

Riley dreams that this pigmelon will have pigmelon babies and that one of them will be so big, he will win a prize at 'the fair'. I hope that the sand is so bad in our front garden that even a pigmelon won't grow.

Trying for Free Range

I was excited when I heard about Lenore Skenazy via a friend. She is the woman who wrote the book "Free Range Kids" and has a blog by the same name. When she wrote a newspaper column about letting her Grade 4 son ride the subway home in New York, there was mass criticism worldwide, but there were an equal number of people applauding the act. I know I wouldn't let Riley catch the bus alone at eight year's old, but a part of me wishes he could.

I love the idea of free range children, that is how I was brought up and it was magical. I remember walking to school with an older girl who lived around the corner and then when I was in Grade 3 I no longer had to walk with that girl, but got to be the responsible one and take my little sister to school. We crossed two roads, and there were no crossing guards, there were not a lot of cars either because all of the kids walked to school. The only time you were driven was if you were heading off on a camp and even then some kids still carried all of their stuff instead of being dropped off. From memory there wasn't even an area for parents to park because it was not needed.

At high school it was a much longer walk, probably 25 minutes, I never walked with my sister, we didn't care so much for each other in those days. Some days a friend would pick me up, others, I would pick a friend up and sometimes a friend who lived 25 minutes on the other side of the school would ride her bike over so we could walk together. I was a latch key kid and so were most of my friends and this was normal. We never had crossing guards and there was no law to slow down to 40 kilometres per hour.

Don't get me wrong, it was about time that the above measures were introduced. I remember my first ever "boyfriend" was killed in a hit and run when he was in Year 8. I can't imagine the pain his parents felt and would still feel. Whenever I drive past his house I think of him, he died on the road in front of it. The typing teacher gave me his work file, it had 'Mark loves Colleen forever" on it. Sadly it was true.

I have heard that statistically the risk of child abduction is the same as it was 50 years ago, so I feel safe in the assumption that the world I grew up in is the same as the world that Riley will grow up in, yet we cloister our children so much these days. I have seen young children walking to school on their own and wondered where the parents are, yet that was me 30 years ago (I'm being generous about my age). And where are those Beaumont children?

I want to be able to trust that we live in a relatively safe world and I want Riley to grow up being able to explore it like I did with mine. I want him to be able to catch the bus to and from high school (my dad did it on his own from six). I want him to know how to cross the road without an adult there. How else can
I do this without giving him some free range?

Busting!

Riley is eight, but his bladder does not seem to know that know that. At least once a week, usually more, we reach the end of the street that his school is on and he declares he is, "Busting!". It is quite a small street, so from the time that he gets into the car and we get to the end of the street is about one minute tops. A minute prior when he has got into the car there is no sign of busting and then 60 seconds later it is a matter of urgency that we stop immediately so he can get out and wee on the verge.

Until very recently I used to stop on the side of the road and let him get out. I did this because there is nothing I hate more than busting to go to the loo and because I didn't want to have to clean up the mess if he didn't make it.

Yesterday, like clockwork, there was the cry of 'busting' and after the frustrating conversation of, "Why didn't you go before you left school?", I didn't need to.", I thought I would test him, because when I'm busting it is because I have consciously held on for too long, this is not the case with him. Miraculously he made it all the way home, although I could feel the car bouncing as he tried to keep it in. I had a serious talk with him about going at the end of school. Yes mum, he agreed.

Today, as we got to the end of the road the school is on, what did I hear? "Busting!"

Happy Days

Sometimes Riley's cuteness and innocence makes my heart really soar. Today I got home from work and he and Cliff were searching for 'gems' on our front verge. His idea of a gem is basically any rock, mostly bluestone. He is pretty convinced that with a good whack from a hammer a beautiful gem will appear and then, he says, we can drive around in a limo with a spa in it. Oh Riley, I really would like to see that vision!

He asked our neighbours, who had spent the day sanding down the weatherboard from the front of their house if they had had a good day. He asked if they were going to paint their house red. He has absolutely no idea and it is so very cute.

The thing about parenting is that you are always thinking about your child, sometimes you are worrying, sometimes sad, sometimes indignant, so the days when you are happy and laughing are pretty sweet.

A Little Star

I love picking Riley up from school. I only do it twice a week due to work and they have a kiss and drive which I also love as I am quite antisocial.  I really feel a huge surge of love as I see Riley running over to my car with his big bag bouncing behind him.

Every time he gets into the car I ask him about his day, he always says it was 'great'. Sometimes I get more information, but more often than not, 'great' is all I hear. I always ask him what the best bit of the day was and he always say, "Seeing You". This is sweet, but after 400 plus days I would like to hear a different highlight.

Today when I picked Riley up I could see that he was clutching a piece of paper about the size of an award certificate and he was smiling the biggest smile ever. He got into the car and yes, he did have an award. He was so excited, he said he got his award, two stickers, a round of applause, a stamp and a rubber from the special award box.

This might sound pretty standard to many people, but we have spent the last three years at a school that does not believe in awards, so aside from pre-primary, this is the first award he has received. As soon as we got home he ran to the neighbour's house to show her his award. Cute, but even cuter given that fact that we barely know this woman. Fortunately she kindly read the award and told him well done.

When we got inside he took a photo out of another frame and placed his award inside.

He is so proud, we are so proud. Sometimes its the small things.

Back on the Wagon

I fell off the blogging wagon, I can't even blame the Olympics, because I watched about, three hours of it in total. I just kept thinking that I didn't have anything interesting enough to write about. A friend keeps telling me to start blogging again, she tells me that she misses my blog. I thought for a while that I might just stop, I wanted my blog to be big and important, and it wasn't.  As I have thought this over for the last few weeks, waiting for something big and important to come along, I realised the fact that amazing, newsworthy things probably won't happen on a daily basis. My life isn't big and important. There will be times when things happen that are more interesting than others and I have realised that I can still write even when the exciting stuff isn't happening. I live a small and generally uninteresting life, and this is my record of that life.

I was going to write about my new iPhone app, picfx, which I totally love and makes me feel like a professional photographer (see above and below), but just then I saw something more worthy of sharing.

I just went to pick up the clothes that Riley had strewn through the house pre-bath and noticed that he did not wear underpants, again, today. This happens more often than not. Now he did announce that his penis was named Buzza to us a few weeks ago, so I wondered if perhaps that was why he so often went sans undies, but I just asked him and Buzza has nothing to do with it. He just forgets.

I did have to tell him to put his polo top on the right way this morning as it was on back to front and he had not realised, so clearly, the fact that he is not wearing undies would not register.

I still have the occasional dream about turning up at school and discovering that I have no top or bra on, this dream was quite common through high school and uni. I now fear that one day Riley's pants may be pulled down at school and the kids around will discover that it was just him and Buzza in those pants, no undies! My child struggles enough, we would definitely have to change schools, again, if that happened.

Review - The Heritage Brassiere

On Saturdays I write a review on a goods or service, today I’m reviewing the Heritage Brassiere. The Old Royal Insurance Building has been revamped and is now a bar, brassiere and board room. They are open for breakfast, lunch and dinner seven days a week. We went there for dinner with another couple last Saturday.

Firstly the place looks great; the designers have done an excellent job on the renovations. It is light and airy with clean lines and a great use of space. Sadly, that about the only praise I have for the place.

With our friends running late my husband and I had to eventually call a waiter over to order drinks and water.  When our friend arrived we ordered a bottle of wine, we picked the second cheapest, a Huia Sauvignon Blanc, for $52 dollars, this retails for $23 so that is a nice little profit. The majority of the wines on the list are French, which I’ve said before I think is really pretentious. Again the service left a lot to be desired, with only one of us being poured wine, we had to call the waiter, who had to call the wine waiter over to pour the rest of us a glass. When we ordered our second bottle, instead of a bottle they brought a glass. The service was rough to say the least.

For entrees two of us ordered the shrimp cocktail, my husband had the beef carpaccio, apple & beetroot chutney, shaved Assagio and my friend had the twice baked Gruyere souffle, curry yoghurt & eggplant. I have a real thing about prawns being deveined, so falsely assumed this would be the case here, I was wrong, so ended up swapped my shrimp cocktail with my husband’s carpaccio. Sadly the capaccio was bland. My friend’s soufflé was delightful, light, fluffy and flavoursome.

Beef carpaccio

For mains two of us ordered the gain fed sirloin, this comes only with a sauce so we also ordered hand cut chips and mixed leaves. My husband had Seared scallops, risotto, cafe de paris, which he really enjoyed, but at $39 he was disappointed that there were only four scallops. My other friend had Barramundi pan-fried, seasonal vegetables, riesling sauce which she said was ok. I eat my steak rare, but I got the distinct impression that it had been par cooked prior to service and it was very tough and had no juices. My friend’s steak had a giant strip of gristle attached. I was still hungry so had the crème brulee for desert, this was lovely.

We all agreed that the food at The Heritage was a little ordinary, even disappointing, as was the service. We will not be going back, or recommending it to others. To eat this ordinary food we paid $470 which I think is outrageously bad value.

Feeling Anxious

You know that horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach? I've always called it a sense of forboding and am lucky that I haven't felt it too often in my life, until now. That horrible feeling seems to be with me all of the time, for the last two weeks. I'm pretty sure it is anxiety and I am overly anxious at the moment, but I just want it to go away.

I'm anxious because my pay has dropped considerably (my choice) and the bills have not dropped accordingly and I'm anxious about my beautiful Riley who struggles so much at school and I can't help worrying for him. I have always been sympathetic towards those who do suffer from anxiety, but I don't think I have ever had a full understanding of the issue, but I feel like I am getting an insight into it at the moment.

Nothing seems to help, no amount of talking, or trying to put my worries to the back of my mind gets rid of the feeling. Today I bought some Bach's Rescue Remedy and I've been squirting, it hasn't helped yet, but maybe its a cumulative effect, that's what I'm telling myself anyway.

I know that the money issue is a small thing and I will stop worrying about it, it  will just take some adjustments in our household and that's fine. I can always go back to my teaching job if all else fails. What I don't think I can change is the constant worry I feel for Riley. I've watched him slip further and further behind his peers and it seems that there is nothing we can do about it.

I know there are people dealing with much bigger problems, but for me, right now, this problem seems huge.

Warning, we Steal!

Totally unconsciously, we have become a family of thieves. I pride myself on being an honest person, I will always tell a checkout operator if they have given me too much change, I will drive out of my way to return a lost purse and I am brutally honest. Tell me honestly, does my new haircut suit me? Well, actually no.

Riley wearing stolen goods

It has come to my attention that I have become a thief! I bought Riley one pair of winter pajamas this year, which, considering I gave all of his old ones to the Salvos, means he should have one pair of winter pajamas, he does not. He has four pairs of winter pajamas, I only bought one of them.

Riley wearing stolen goods

We have become that family who never returns things. There have been a few nights where we have had dinner at a friend's place, the kids have showered together and then Riley has gone home in a loan pair of pajamas. This is a very kind act and no doubt will never happen again, because each time we have kept the pajamas.

Riley wearing stolen goods

Actually, I'm not that worried about not getting another invite, because I do remember half of the pajamas I gave to the Salvos weren't ours either and we still mananged enough invites for a few more pairs of stolen pajamas. I really must be a better returner though!

I would personally like to thank the original pajama purchasers, you know who you are. As it is already August, we should probably just keep the pajamas now, by the time I get around to washing and returning them it will be nearly summer anyway...

Saturday's Hero

The whole family has been sick with the dreaded lurgie, Riley has spent the week moving from one surface to another in the quest to find a cooler spot to sleep in and I was in bed for most of five days. We are well again and I'm going to write about a guy I was going to write about a week ago, Oscar Pistorius.

Image credit

Oscar Pistorius is a 25 year old South African, he was born without fibula bones in either leg and had his lower legs amputated at an early age, learning to walk on prosthetics at that time. His nickname is Blade Runner. He claims that he does not see himself as having a disability, just a different set of feet. He runs the 400 metre qualifier on Saturday. If he qualifies he will also run in the 400 metre relay.

In South Africa he failed to qualify for the team, yet the officials included him anyway. In London his prosthetics have been called into question. Some people are claiming they will give him an unfair advantage.


In 2007 he competed in his first ‘able bodied’ athletics competition, soon after that the  International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) changed their competition rules to ban the use of  "any technical device that incorporates springs, wheels or any other element that provides a user with an advantage over another athlete not using such a device". Apparently this was not aimed at Pistorius. Scientists monitored his performances and conducted tests, concluding that he had considerable advantages over athletes without prosthetic limbs. He was banned from able bodied athletic competitions. This decision was overturned in May 2008, and he missed qualifying for the Beijing Olympics by .7 of a second


He did compete in the Beijing 2008 Para Olympics and won gold in the 100, 200 and 400 metres.


My point is that here is a guy who does not have ankles or feet wanting to compete against those that do and the authorities have in the past banned him. Seriously? In my mind this guy is a hero. As if what he is running on was a choice that he made? I really hope that he makes the qualifier and then wins gold. Pistorius is a tremendous role model for disabled people, he is living proof that disabled people do not have to be marginalised, that there can be a fairy tale ending.


By the way, he does NOT like the name Blade Runner, make sure you complain to your TV provider when they call him that.

The Birthday Edition

It was my birthday on Wednesday and even though I was going to have a 40th birthday party, the reality is that I just turned 44. As with all Devlin family events, there was a little bit of drama with an eviction. Eviction aside, from the we managed to piece together a nice night. My husband baked a pie with my name on it (lololol) and I got book vouchers and champagne, proof that my friends and family know me well.

I really struggle with the fact that I am now sprinting towards middle age. When I think of myself I still see someone young, so it is a real suprise each time I see myself in a mirror. I really don't want to get old! It is not even so much about the wrinkles, its more about the fact that my first steps each morning resemble hobbling. My body is getting old and slowly starting to fail me.

There are a few things I would like to achieve before I hit fifty, I'm writing them here in the hopes that it will motivate me.

• Write a novel and get it published
• Visit India
• Be someone who keeps a tidy house
• Get fit
• And lastly, win Division 1 LOTTO so I can do all of the above.

More on Toilet Paper

When I wrote Some of What Cheeses me off, I got a little sidetracked afterwards reading about the way people orient their toilet paper roll. Its not just me, lots of people hold very strong opinions about toilet paper orientation. In the 80's, American newspaper columnest, Ann Landers, (correctly) wrote that toilet paper should have an over orientation and received over 15,000 letters on the subject, it was one of her post popular columns.

Image source

Sociology professor and writer of  "Bathroom Politics: Introducing Students to Sociological Thinking from the Bottom Up", Edgar Allen Burns, got first year sociology students to examine the way toilet paper should be hung as a way of illustrating social constructivism. Other sociologists and psychologists use this activity to show show students the difference between minority and majority orientation.

The toilet paper debate has even made it to prime time television. All in the Family saw Archie yelling at Meathead for hanging the toilet roll under. In a 1995 episode of The Simpsons, where the kids are taken by Child Protective Services, Marge refers to her home as a "squalid hellhole" where the toilet paper is "hung in improper overhand fashion".

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The book Why Not? by  Barry Nalebuff and Ian Ayres believes that the debate is about symmetry and they compare having an under orientation with peeling a banana from the bottom, or driving from the back seat of the car. I agree! It is obvious that when the paper is hung in an under orientation the pictures on the paper are upside down, this is not what the manufacturers intended, because they know that it should be hung in an over fashion.

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My old Alice Springs newspaper, The Centralian Advocate, has even weighed in on the debate claiming that over is more economical and therefore it is better for the environment for rolls to be hung over.

There are lots of statistics on the subject, allow me to share a few. A 1999 survey by Cottonelle showed that 68% of people prefered over. Another survey by Cottonelle on the 100th anniversary of Thomas Crapper's death showed the figures had jumped to 74% over. The results of the later survey were announced at the Academy Awards, I kid you not. This survey also indicated that overs were more likely to notice, be annoyed at unders and change the roll's orientation at a friend's house. The survey also showed that men were more likey to notice and be annoyed than women (not in this house).

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There are even results based on class and politics. A survey by Sinrod (1989) showed that 60 percent of people who earn $50,000 or more prefer toilet paper to be over and 73 percent of those who earn less than $20,000 prefer it to be under. Another study shows that politically conservative people prefer under where more left wing people prefer over. Really!

Can you judge the traits of a person based on their toliet roll orientation? It seems so. Gilda Carle, a therapist and Cottonelle consultant, has the following theories:
If you roll over, you like taking charge, crave organization and are likely to over-achieve.
If you roll under, you're laid-back, dependable and seek relationships with strong foundations.
If you don't care as long as it's there, you aim to minimize conflict, value flexibility and like putting yourself in new situations. Wikipedia

And lastly, how do the rich and famous do it?

• Oprah claimed on her show that she was under, 68% of her studio audience disagreed with her.
• Paul Burrell, butler to the Princess of Wales, shared that the royals have an over orientation.
• Tori Spelling is on record saying that "over is more chic".

Stay tuned for other scintillating debates such as should the toilet seat be up or down?

Some of What Cheeses me off

I feel like having a vent, so here goes.

• The people who try to wash your windscreen at traffic lights. I am all for free enterprise, but these people really annoy me, they can be intimdating. I don't normally want my windscreen washed, but when I do I normally give a gold coin, that's 1-2 dollars for a 30 second job. I didn't earn that teaching. I Today at a set of lights there were four guys waiting to wash windscreens, I felt under seige. In my experience, by the time you tell them you don't want your windscreen washed, they have already started, so you either have to pay up, or are left with a soapy windscreen. Maybe I'm not as left wing as I like to think I am, because I just want to yell, "Get a job!", then I feel cross with myself for thinking uncharitable thoughts.
• Blocked numbers. I really HATE blocked numbers. I'm not talking about friends who call from a private home phone, I'm talking about organisations, usually banks, who call with a blocked number. Friends who call me from a blocked number leave a message, these big businesses don't. This is so rude, they rang me, they should leave a message because I don't answer blocked numbers.

• The toilet paper being put on the wrong way. In my world the toilet paper should be put on with the loose sheet hanging over the roll, not under it.

The right way

   The wrong way

For me this just seems the most hygenic way, Wikipedia have outlined the following points for the over argument.

Over reduces the risk of accidentally brushing the wall or cabinet with one's knuckles, potentially transferring grime and germs.

Over makes it easier to visually locate and to grasp the loose end.

Over gives hotels, cruise ships, office buildings, public places and homeowners with guest bathrooms the option to fold over the last sheet to show that the room has been cleaned

Over is generally the intended direction of viewing for the manufacturer's branding, so patterned toilet paper looks better this way

The only arguments for the under method were that under was more asthetically pleasing and that it reduces the risk of pets and toddlers playing with the roll. I will take hygiene over asthetics any day.

Whenever I am at some-one's house and they have the toilet paper around the wrong way, I change it, that really must cheese some people off!

This is just the beginning of a very,very long list...

Review - The Precinct Restaurant

On Saturdays I write a review on goods or services, today I'm reviewing The Precinct Restaurant in East Victoria Park. We went to The Precinct before it had a liquor license and found it over priced and unappetising, if I had written the review then it would have been scathing. Every time I walk past it looks busy, so I thought it might be worth another visit. Aside from a very forgetful, vague waiter our second visit was a much better experience than the first.

The menu is small, but I prefer that in a restaurant. What I don't get is why the menu is so Americanised with a "sliders trio" (mini hamburgers) and "pork schrunchions with pickled eggs", "turkey wings" and "ketchup". The starters are designed to share and the highlight for me was the charcuterie plate, the scrunchions tasted like they had opened a packet of pork crackle from a petrol station and put them on a plate.

The first time I went I had the skirt steak with fries, vegies and cola jus. I asked for my steak rare and was told that it was a cheap cut of meat and therefore served medium. Seriously, who puts a cheap cut of steak on a menu? Most steak lovers I know would rather pay an extra $10 for a decent cut of steak. The vegies were brussels sprouts, which I like, but I think this is a strange choice as I know that this is not a popular vegetable. The 'fries', which could only be described as deep fried potato gratings, were inedible.

When we went this week we ordered the skirt steak again, Riley loves steak and I wanted to see if the meal had improved any. The presentation was an improvement and Riley did enjoy the meal, but again there was a pile of deep fried potato gratings masquerading as chips.

All of the adults had the lamb duo with walnut spatzle which was well presented and cooked to perfection. The vague, forgetful waiter agreed that this was their best dish.

Being the gluttonious sweet-tooth that I am I had the pavlova roll with lemon curd, which I had the previous visit. It was lovely, but if you like crunchy merange you will be disappointed, I don't, so it was perfect for me.

The weird thing about The Precinct with its strangely Americanised menu is that most of the wines are French or Italian. Australia has brilliant wines and I think our restaurants should stock these over European ones, its just a bit pretentious.

I'm glad I went back to The Precinct as it has improved greatly, but I think there is still a long way to go before it becomes a competitive restaurant in Perth.

Footnote: My husband just read this and thinks I have been way too generous in my review

Packing a Week Into a Day

We have been pretty lazy this week after our time away last week. Riley will happily sit and watch "Ben 10" DVDs all day and I will happily read all day, but I knew that we had to get out and do something, so today was the day.

We headed to Fremantle by train, this always seems like such a good idea at the outset, but by the end of the day you just want to get in the car and drive the quickest route home. No matter, we had fun.

When we got there we had to head straight to Myer as I was sweating in the jumper I was wearing and needed a t-shirt. Being pre-menopausal and having a thyroid condition means that I really don't get cold, so I should know better than wear a jumper out on a warm winter day.

Myer in Fremantle must be the saddest Myer in Australia, there is not much to be found there, I don't think they even had all of their lights on. I did find a t-shirt though and I found Freezeframe brush on eyelash extensions, I'm definitely going to give this a try.

Next we headed to The Capri Restaurant for lunch. I love this place, it has been there since the early 1950s and I don't think the menu has changed much in that time. The food is simple and hearty fare from northern Italy. It is one of the few places that still provides a generous free basket of bread and a bowl of soup, also free. I had the chicken soup followed by daily special, veal shank osso bucco and Riley had the kids spagetti bolognaise served with chips. We both ate everything on our plates and the bill was $39 which I think is a bargain, especially as my main was one of the most expensive dishes.

After our lunch we explored the many little shops in Fremantle, including Sarah's lolly shop...

Then we headed to the Winter Festival, the outdoor skating rink which has been set up for the school holidays. They run 45 minute skating sessions on the hour. I had bought my tickets online, which I would highly recommend doing. They have done a really good job. Liptons are one of the sponsors and there is a free chai latte tent, or a bar for non skaters to hang out in. I used to go roller skating and have always been an ok ice skater, but my skills have definitely declined. I had booked the bobby skating aid for Riley and this was awesome, he loved it and felt like he was skating independently and I loved it when he let me push it on it. He must have fallen over at least 20 times and was soaking at the end of it, but he was one of the last people on the ice and he wants to go again. I also bumped (nearly literally) into a friend from high shool, so that was nice.

Wet and with slightly sore bottoms we then headed to San Churro, where I have never been before. I knew this was a good place, so ordered one of everything. The milkshake was yummy, the Azteca hot chocolate was divine, the churros did not live up to my expectations, not squishy enough.

On the way home I stopped at David Jones and bought some of Miranda Kerr's organic beauty range, Kora, its nearly my birthday so I thought I would treat myself.

We got home after dark and I'm ready for bed, but Riley could go another round in the skating rink and is wondering what is for dinner, oh to be a kid again!

Surface Envy

The Mahjong Nazi informed me again that my house was a disgrace, which compared to many houses it is. We are not overly tidy people, but I can safely say that I am the only person in my house who has ever used the vacuum cleaner, or cleaned a toilet, or washed sheets, or changed towels, the list goes on.

I know that every single day I tidy, do washing, or vacuum, but the house remains untidy. It is a completely depressing task to clean and then see your hard work undone in the next hour. It's not just Riley and my husband's fault, we have two very hairy pets who like to shed masses of fur. Every surface I create is soon taken over with something and my work seems futile.

The Mahjong Nazi firmly believes that cleaning the house is completely my responsibilty, the whole women's liberation movement seems to have passed her by unnoticed. She has even asked why my husband should have to clean which I am a bit incredulous over, surely when two peopple both have full time jobs, they both have responsibilty for cleaning the house?

As husbands go he is not too bad, he does all of the dishes and helps with the washing, but as I sit here in my loungeroom, I can see his dressing gown, ugg boots and two of his jackets left lying around. He has even told me that he doesn't see the point in anyone cleaning the house because it just gets messy again.

I love going to people's houses where there are surfaces, I really have surface envy. Maybe I just need a junk room, so that every room isn't a junk room. Or I could do what my ex-neighbour did when her kids were little and throw anything that was on the floor in the bin, the problem is that the bins are only emptied once a week. I think I will just get a cleaner and go and hang the next load of washing out.

There is Still Magic in That Tree

Enid Blyton was born in 1897, the Mahjong Nazi grew up with her stories, I grew up with her stories and Riley still loves her stories. We have just started re-reading "The Magic Faraway Tree", it was published in 1943 and it is still a hit in this house. I know it was a hit for my nephews aged 14 and 19 because we have borrowed their copy. 

Edid Blyton

Sadly there have been criticisms of Blyton's writing; complaints that her language was not literary enough; questions about the relationship between Noddy and Mr Big Ears; judgements on Noddy as a role model for boys as he wept with frustration; views that the worlds that she painted were too rosy and don't mention Gollywog!

There were colloquialsims in Enid Blyton's novels that we would now find unacceptable, but really, don't we read a text in relation to the time it was written and don't we learn about societal change from these references? And in learning about what is no longer acceptable don't we then form a view of what is acceptable?

As for Noddy and Big Ears, we should be providing gay role models for children, because some of them will be gay and all of them will have gay friends or family.

Boys should be encouraged to cry, to show their true emotions. There is nothing femine about crying, just human.

I love that Riley has rediscovered this book, that he puts a bracelet around it when he is not reading it and that he crawls under the covers when a 'scary' bit comes. I love this especially because our kids seem so sophisticated these days and really they are not, they are just kids.

Extremely Proud and Incredibly Tired

I've just come back from a short holiday down south. We spent time with my sister and then with friends at a holiday house in Preston Beach, a sleepy little beach town. Even though it is the middle of winter, we spent most of the time outside and the kids even had a swim at the beach, because they are kids and kids are a bit crazy like that. When we weren't at the beach we were busy with fire.

Reflecting back, the whole holiday pretty much revolved around fire. We were either collecting firewood or tending the fire. As we sat around the fire from morning until we all went to bed (because we had run out of wood), we mainly talked about the fire: what a great fire it was, where to place the next branch, what a great fire it was, how our wood stash was going, what a great fire it was and so on. I took 20 photos while we were away, 12 of them are of fire.

What was particularly nice about this holiday is that we felt that the kids could safely go and explore like I remember doing as a child. They came home when they were hungry, they walked to the deli (about six times a day), they climbed trees and played every version of hide and seek and chasey ever invented. They watched each other's backs and no man was left behind. Dead animals were discovered and given burials, pig mellon fields were harvested and old skeletons were collected.

Holidays like this are so rare for kids now days. Last year we went to Bali five times because I had forgotten that kids can have just as much fun staying in a simple beach shack and exploring in the bush.

It was an exhausting, but fun time, so now you know why I am incredibly tired. The reason I am incredibly proud is that an opinion piece I wrote for the West Australian Newspaper was published on Monday. My friend and I are doing all we can to get dyslexia recognised as a learning disabilty in Western Australia and the response to the article was great, I have a number of phone calls to return tomorrow and we have been asked to speak to a Rotary group about the issue, I feel like this could be the beginning of something. I'm incredibly hopeful that it will be, also incredibly tired...