My latest lust object

Since My Adorable Husband bought me the lens of my dreams, I have decided to start saving up for the “Last Kitchen Gadget I’ll Ever Need”. Of course, I will find other gadgets to covet, but this one should keep me enthralled for quite some time.

Kris linked to an aussie online shop that sells kitchen gadgets, and I found it.

The Kitchen Aid, in Caviar. Click on the picture in the link to embiggen, and see sparkly detail.

Not black, that is just black. The Caviar is SPARKLY black.

So much more useful, to have an appliance that sparkles, don’t you think?

More %$*&^#@ Fires

This time, it’s personal.

My friend Paige (one of the sweetest, most caring women ever to walk this earth), and her family, furry and otherwise, have been evacuated. Of course, they are all terrified.

And my darling Andrew C. (as opposed to my darling Andrew M.) is also in the area. Last I heard, he was heading home from the city to see if he still had a home to go to. He promised to text as soon as he knew anything, and I am still waiting to hear. Mind you, he still hasn’t RSVP’d for a wedding that was four years ago, he has a bit of a reputation for being unreliable.

Anyway, he promised me that he understood that he was more important than stuff, but I am still very afraid.

Paige lives in Belgrave, Andrew in Belgrave Heights. From the look of the map, Andrew and Paige back onto the same gully, on opposite sides. I don’t think I’ll sleep much tonight.

Squish a Litterbug

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When I see someone throw rubbish out of a car window, I get very cross.

If it’s a cigarette butt, I get extremely cross.

If it’s anywhere near the bush, on a hot day, I go thermonuclear. It’s really not very pretty, and I have had to be talked down from following these people home and putting prawn heads in their curtain rails.

But now I have a better solution.

Call the Environmental Protection Authority!

131 555 (pollution reporting, environment information and publication requests) for the cost of a local call within New South Wales (mobiles excluded) or (02) 9995 5555.

They sent the offender a warning, and if a second incident is reported, they will be fined. Of course, I’d prefer there was some form of physical torture involved, but a fine is a perfectly acceptable starting point.

As promised

Reason #327 that I adore my husband –

He supports me in my crazy endeavours.

On Friday night, I came home from my ABA meeting (which was a whole ‘nother story), so find this –

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Which, when peeled open, revealed this –

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Which allowed me to take this –

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And this –

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Now, the kid is pretty gorgeous normally, but in the above pic he was actually throwing a whammy. Pretty clever lens!

And in the last picture, you’ll see a very ordinary entree starting to look like glamourous food photography. Taken in available light at the restaurant that mum and dad shouted us Valentines Day dinner at. Free babysitting, a bottle of wine, and a free meal, the perfect ending to a fab day.

If you are ever in the vicinity of Pennant Hills, and fancy a bit of Indian, check out Spices on Pennant Hills Road. The entree was a bit ordinary, and I wasn’t thrilled with the Masala Dosa, but the tomato chutney was killer (I almost asked for some to take home), and the mains we had were really lovely. I think they thought I was a restaurant reviewer when they saw the camera, they made a big fuss of the fact that we didn’t finish our meals (ordered too much food!), and then the chef came out to chat. So I feel a bit of a responsibility to talk them up a bit 😉

Typhoid Mary*

I have Whooping Cough. There is a plague of it about – so if you’ve seen me in the last six weeks and have a little tickle a the back of your throat, see a doctor.

So far, Inigo seems fine. Mark just spent over $200 on seeing a doctor and getting a vaccination booster. It will be more when we get the antibiotic script filled.

I have antibiotics, and Prednisone for my asthma, which has been terrible. I am taking well over the amount of ventolin which is recommended. Apparently, if the Prednisone doesn’t make me dramatically better, I have to ship myself off to hospital.

So. I am feeling horrible – I could have spread this to hundreds of people during the time I was infectious, if only I knew when that was. My blood test shows that I have an active infection, but not if I am infectious or not, and not when I became infectious. If you feel sick, I am terribly, awfully sorry, and if you want to know anything about whooping cough, give me a call. SInce I got the news at 3pm, I have become quite the expert.

And now, I am off to my chaise lounge to freebase some laudanum.

*Typhoid Mary was a cook who travelled from job to job infecting her employers…