So for our country belle, Miss O'Dyne, what could be better than a lambie tea pot.
And look what I found for River, the infamous Harry Dresden auto, brilliant.
I thought of Elephant's Child as soon as I saw this penguin teapot, just sorry it wasn't on one of those Antarctic Cruise Liners.
And for myself a strawberry, chocolate and coffee cake which I would gladly share with all of you but you know what Australia Post would do to a slice of this. I'll eat your share, I'm so obliging like that.
I'm still recovering from the antibiotics that didn't kill whatever's rattling in my chest (thinks of Ripley) and my sinus is acting up and the other end got a good whack of cranberry juice to stop that nonsense. I still have to see mother tomorrow and I bet there won't be a hot cross bun to be had anywhere.
I don't know where to start with all the pigeons I've been playing with these past weeks. Mother is 86 and 8 days and is still taking up more of my time than our so-called heavenly overlord did making this planet. My sister is still perfecting her inner and outer bitch but I dress better than she does. Granddaughter is still blessing Teh Lord because an anonymous donor made up the money for her to haul off to the big Christian blessing conference to bring the word and love to the whole of America. I won't worry as long as Trump is on the other side of the continent. I just wish the girl would not sound as if she'd been brainwashed by a choir of angels with a harp in one hand and a money bag in the other. Crowd sourcing is just another name for internet begging. New staff and old staff at the Home are working well. I wish I could say the same about the office staff who left the old girl without the special air mattress she needs to prevent pressure sores since last Thursday. But of course, today is a holiday so no mattress until tomorrow and the care staff must not usurp the authority of them in charge by getting in a mattress at the weekend. I await the wrath of Doc Marvin if it's not there by Wednesday. Anybody local want a lovely large coffee table with ball and claw feet and glass panels in the top? I'm only letting it go because I'm worried about falling through the glass even though they're all separated by wooden panels. Yes, I could do that, after all I stabbed myself in the foot with a pencil the other night. The top of my foot. It would take a CSI team to work out exactly how I managed that. Strange to look down and see a shattered pencil sticking straight up out of my foot and the other half shattered pencil across the floor. Fortunately it was the lead part so I didn't have to worry about splinters. It was also in the most awkward place to put a bandage. Hmmm, lead poisoning. So that was a small pencil now you know why I'm worried about a very large glass coffee table. Now I'm going to the pub before mother rings with more trouble.
Kawana MP Jarrod Bleijie, Queensland's former attorney general says he was outraged by the revised version of the national anthem played at the University of the Sunshine Coast's 20th anniversary last month. Judith Durham's version emphasises Australia's Indigenous heritage, with lyrics like "and honouring the Dreaming"and "combine our ancient history and cultures everywhere". With all that's going on in the world, he feels it's important to make a stand against this because it's wrong and rejects the claim the anthem is out of date. The Queensland opposition leader, Lawrence Springborg said the Australian people should make any changes not university activists. Good on ya, Jarrod, sing it proud because most of us don't know the bloody words anyway and only in Queensland would this make the papers. I refrained from looking up his opinions on everything because I was eating breakfast while the tradie was putting in the new heater and I was withing range of a drill to put through my brain. Andrew dear, the tradie is really cute. I digress, I hate the damn anthem, refuse to learn the words and wanted "I still call Australia home" because the thought of a nice gay boy singing the national song would have given a lot of Parliamentarians strokes on the spot. And I like Peter Allen much better than Jarrod Bleijie.
I gave the Murdoch wedding pictures a miss, Nancy Reagan finally died aged 94, I wonder if her astrologist predicted that. The Abbott book? I'll wait til it reaches the op shop but I will say Credlin has no taste in men and they wouldn't let Bronnie apologize for the helicopter, like she would have, ha!
Tradie is still going. Now gathering up my spare bricks to fill in the enormous cavity behind the old Vulcan heater. It's so huge I could have rented it out as airbnb. More money though since I needed an extra surround and a new flue. That will be good to watch. They pull the old one up through the roof and drop the new one down. I'm still in my dressing gown since they showed up at 8 and I was lucky I heard the gate squeak in time to put it on. I no longer care about the state of the lounge which looks like "hoarder in training" so he just moved everything out of the way while I staggered trying to get some balance. It appears I will have to bite the bullet and see the specialist and maybe have sharp things stuck up my nose for a biopsy and after that my deviated septum corrected. It's either that or falling flat on my face half the time.
But poor as I will be, I have found my ideal glassed in front room. I'll start saving next week.
I have a brick wall exactly where that fire place is but I'm too decrepit to chop wood so that will be a bookcase. Mother made it, 86 and one day.