Category: The Life of Lara

Happy Fathers Day

My parents are on holiday for a month. They flew into Thailand, and intended (after careful consideration and consultation with expats in Australia) to travel to Burma. Last I heard they were on the road to Mandalay with a car and driver, and having a wonderful time.

I sent Dad an email this morning, wishing him a happy Fathers Day. At lunchtime, I was talking to a customer when my brother interrupted me to tell me that Dad was on the phone.

“Happy Fathers Day”, I shrieked into the phone, to be met with a shocked silence. “He didn’t tell you then”, Dad said…

Mum had left the car to take a picture (with her snazzy new camera) of another bloody temple. Since it was raining, Dad gallantly got out of the car to hold an umbrella over her (and her new camera). She took the picture and got back into the car. Dad walked around to the other side of the car and slipped on the wet road, and broke his ankle – both bones.

They were flown to Thailand yesterday, and it has been deternmined that when the swelling goes down, he will need an operation to put pins in his bones to help them mend. He’ll have to stay in Thailand for a few weeks healing before he can fly home.

Travel insurance is paying for everything, Mum has a bench in his room to sleep on, the nurses are very pretty, and he was given a single rose with his breakfast. The hospital has a reputation for being a leading destiantion for “medical tourism”.

All well and good. Until I did a wee google serach and found this link.

I’m sure it doesn’t need to be said that I love my Dad. That anything happening to him disturbs my happiness and sense of wellbeing. Add to that my memories of my grandfathers death when he and my grandmother were in Broome on holiday, and I have a paranoid fear that something terrible will happen while I am miles away.

I’m sure everything will be fine, but I’ll be sleeping with my passport under my pillow tonight.

Chickens are Rainforest Creatures

So I suppose there is no real surprise in finding this nest in the backyard. The girls have been free ranging rather a lot in the past few weeks, and we found a few eggs in a little nest in the middle of the garden last week.
Then this morning Liza (Minelli) was unaccounted for. Mark found her sitting on this…

Behind the house there is some ivy growing up a trellis. Obviously the girls have found a way in and have made a nice comfy nest, with room for all four of them to snuggle up together.

Eggs anyone ?

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Nike + iPod Sport Kit

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That is a picture of my foot. In a running shoe. With a sensor inside that will record exactly how much I don’t run.

Tonight is the Apple “Channel Conference”, and I am going for the first time. Apple have given attendees a pair of the snazzy new shoes, and the sensor kit, along with some supremely hideous acrylic sweatbands. Wearing these items is mandatory.

I may run a little.

To the bar.

PS. Kris – you are first in line when I get any of these babies to sell, but this lot has already been promised to my sister in law.

P.S. The Secret World of Knitters

I won’t “out” anyone, but a few months ago I came across a knitter in one of my other social worlds. Not too unusual, except that this knitter belongs to a subset of a subset of knitters that I am in contact with, and there is only about ten of us. I hadn’t met her in real life until this day, so it was funny to meet her “out of context” so to speak.

And then yesterday I sold an iPod to another knitter, who is also one of the Rubi + Lana crowd.

It’s a small world, even smaller when you wear your pointy sticks out and proud.

And P.P.S. On the train the other week, I was knitting my little moss stitch squares for Hamish to use as facewashers, and a woman got on my carriage with a sock on tiny double pointed needles. Nothing too complicated, but it made my knitting look very pedestrian and remedial. I secretly hoped that I would see her again while I was working on my lace project. Yes, I know it’s not a competitive sport, but I can’t help myself. And Emma, you’re still beating me.

Swallowtail Progress

I’m halfway through the 13th repeat of chart two, which means that I’ll be starting chart three (the complicated bit – I think there are nupps in there somewhere) in the next 24-48 hours. The colour is nothing like this picture, but I only had time for a quick post.

My new lappy has Photobooth software, which allows me to use the built in iSight camera to take a quick snapshot, and then email the image with one click. Since the adorable husband set up blogging by email, I can now do a photo post in a few seconds, using two applications (Photobooth and Mail) instead of having to get out the camera, download the images, resize and export images in iPhoto, upload via FTP using CyberDuck, and then posting (in html) via Safari.

I love technology 😉

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And in super excellent wonderful news, I was given a summary of commission earned over the last few months yesterday – and it’s almost enough to pay for my new lappy ! Happy happy, joy joy !!!!

This, of course, means that I’ll be able to get a new iPod if and when one comes out with an enticing enough feature set to appease my gadget jones.

Le Stuff!

After almost a year of promising to go, I finally made it to the S’nB at Rubi & Lana’s (website coming soon?) in Gordon. It’s a lovely shop, with all the yarn arranged by colour, and a huge wooden table in the middle. It’s not a large shop, but it is a cosy and delightful spot to gather, and I know I’ll be going back whenever I can.

I finally got to meet Celia, whose blog I’ve been reading for ages, and Pamela, who was also one of the first people to show an interest in a northside group all those months ago. Lovely people, and very welcoming. 🙂

And since I haven’t been in a yarn shop in AGES (simply ages darling), I had to buy some accoutrements. My first ever set of proper stitch markers in green and purple, some large locking stitch markers (because the sensibly sized ones were in ugly colours), and my very first Chibi.

Joy !

The pencil case is labelled Le Stuff, because accoutrements has waaay too many letters.

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Catch Up Post

On Wednesday night we got another bunny from Penrith vet. He’d been desexed that day, and Mark picked him up after work, and set him up in the middle of our kitchen. Not a marvellous place for a bunny to live, but we are running out of space for new creatures. New bunny is a mini lop with siamese markings. He looks a little like a sock monkey, and has been referred to as “monkey boy”. He is extremely cute, and I have pictures I will post soon. He and Blueberry would make a fabulous couple, and I am wondering if the person who is taking her would consider a couple if I can bond them.

Wednesday night we went to Bev and Ted’s (Marks parents) for dinner. I had told Ted that Mark was struggling with his new life as a teacher, so the four of us put our heads together to try to work out some strategies for making his life in the classroom a happier one. Mark is a wonderful teacher, and he cares deeply about his kids, their happiness and educational outcomes – but he has never been able to be the bad guy, especially with kids. I’ve never had a great deal to do with children, but I have spent enough time with the species to know that if you aren’t consistent, and there are no repercussions for bad behaviour, then the kids will happily crush you and do a happy dance on the shattered fragments of what used to be your feeling of self worth. Monsters.

I, on the other hand, have no trouble being the bad guy. I was so deeply unpopular at school that I had to learn what it was to be me, and really learn to be ok with who I am. Once you’ve been there, someone not liking a decision you’ve made isn’t upsetting, and it’s easy to mantain consistency. It’s also bloody hard to back down and admit you’re wrong, but I’m getting better at that now. Kinda.

Thursday night, Kerry spoke at a public forum in Epping about West Papuan refugees in Papua New Guinea. Kerry visited PNG a few weeks ago to see for herself the reality of the only other choice for people fleeing West Papua. If a person has been politically active in the West Papuan independance movemnet, and they want to leave the country, theoretically they could apply in person at the Australian Embassy in Jakarta (as long as they could get th Jakarta without being detained or killed), or they could flee to PNG.

Papua New Guinea has a refugee camp that has been in existance for over 20 years (and some people have lived there for that long). Despite deep sympathy for the plight of West Papuans, the PNG government has very few resources to share, and the refugee camp (which is extremely isolated and difficult to access), is only now having water tanks installed to ensure a continuous supply of clean drinking water. Aid agencies have supplied basic healthcare and some schooling for children, but this is not a gateway to any sort of future, just a holding pen.

That is the reason why 42 West Papuan refugees cut down a tree, hollowed the center to make a canoe, strapped 2 outboard motors on it, and made their way across the ocean to Australia. Not because they wanted a better life – because they wanted any life.

A priest from West Papua put his three teenaged sons onto this boat, and when he was asked why he put his children in such a dangerous position, he replied, “Because I wanted them to live”.

Australia helped to create the problems in West Papua, our governement has a responsibility to the people of Australia to behave ethically towards people who ask us for help. John Howard withdrew the motion to have all refugees processed away from Australian soil, but please make sure you let your local member know how you feel about these issues. Australian politics seems to be very much centered on taking care of interest rates so that middle and high income earners can maintain their comfortable existance, while low income earners and the disenfranchised are ignored.

And in knitting news….

The Swallowtail Shawl has be plagued by my inability to count. Last night I frogged about 6 full rows (which takes much longer than knitting 6 rows), to find a missed yarn over. All well and good, but the mystery is – how did I miss this ? I count at the end of every row, and when I get to the centre stitch of a pattern row. So if I missed a stitch that far back, I must have miscounted at least 8 times. And, you would assume that the pattern would be out. Wouldn’t you ? Well – it wasn’t. It was all going swimmingly for ages until I was a stitch short at the end of a pattern row.

At least I had beautiful music to listen to. Mark picked me up after work and took me to listen to the final rehearsal of Coro Innominata before their sunday afternoon concert. I usually attend all of Marks concerts (since the first one I saw the day after our first kiss), and will only miss this one because I HAVE TICKEST TO THE CIRCUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!