tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9989735035011784612024-03-06T16:02:40.501+08:00It's Impossible To Be Unhappy In A PonchoI know. I've tried.Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-79219515464223064582011-09-15T20:16:00.000+08:002011-09-15T20:16:05.560+08:00In honour of R U OK DayMental health - it's a huge problem, and yet so under-discussed. Today's R U OK campaign was planned to bring mental health to the attention of the masses and at the very least, make us consider what others may be going through and hopefully offer a supportive shoulder or ear to those in need.<br />
<br />
In honour of this, then, I'd like to share the words of my favourite Dr Seuss book, which are wonderfully inspirational when you're feeling a bit fail-ish, lost-ish and overwhelmed-ish.<br />
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<br />
<b><i>Oh! The Places You'll Go - Dr. Seuss</i></b><br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eff3f8;"></span></i><br />
<i>Congratulations!<br />
Today is your day.<br />
You’re off to Great Places!<br />
You’re off and away!</i><br />
<i>You have brains in your head.<br />
You have feet in your shoes.<br />
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.</i><br />
<i><br />
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.</i><br />
<i> And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.</i><br />
<i>You’ll look up and down streets.</i><br />
<i> Look’em over with care. </i><br />
<i>About some you will say, </i><br />
<i>“I don’t choose to go there.” </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, </i><br />
<i>you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.</i><br />
<i>And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. </i><br />
<i>In that case, of course,</i><br />
<i>you’ll head straight out of town. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>It’s opener there in the wide open air.</i><br />
<i>Out there things can happen and frequently do</i><br />
<i>to people as brainy and footsy as you.</i><br />
<i>And when things start to happen, don’t worry.</i><br />
<i> Don’t stew.</i><br />
<i> Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Oh! The Places You’ll Go!</i><br />
<i>You’ll be on your way up!<br />
You’ll be seeing great sights!<br />
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.</i><br />
<i>You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. </i><br />
<i>You’ll pass the whole gang </i><br />
<i>and you’ll soon take the lead.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. </i><br />
<i>Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Except when you don’t.<br />
Because, sometimes, you won’t.</i><br />
<i>I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true</i><br />
<i>that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.</i><br />
<i>You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch.</i><br />
<br />
<i>And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch.</i><br />
<i>You’ll come down from the Lurch </i><br />
<i>with an unpleasant bump. </i><br />
<i>And the chances are, then,</i><br />
<i>that you’ll be in a Slump.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun.</i><br />
<i> Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.</i><br />
<i>You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.</i><br />
<i> Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. </i><br />
<i>A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!</i><br />
<i> Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eff3f8;"> How much can you win?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #eff3f8;"> How much can you lose?<br />
And if you go in, should you turn left or right…<br />
or right-and-three-quarters?<br />
Or, maybe, not quite?<br />
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?<br />
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,<br />
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.<br />
<br />
You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race<br />
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace<br />
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,<br />
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.<br />
<br />
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.<br />
Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come,<br />
or a plane to go or the mail to come,<br />
or the rain to go<br />
or the phone to ring,<br />
or the snow to snow<br />
or waiting around for a Yes or No<br />
or waiting for their hair to grow.<br />
<br />
Everyone is just waiting.<br />
Waiting for the fish to bite<br />
or waiting for wind to fly a kite<br />
or waiting around for Friday night<br />
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake<br />
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break<br />
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants<br />
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.<br />
Everyone is just waiting.<br />
<br />
No! That’s not for you!<br />
Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying.<br />
You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.<br />
With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high!<br />
Ready for anything under the sky.<br />
Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!<br />
<br />
Oh, the places you’ll go!<br />
There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored.<br />
There are games to be won.<br />
And the magical things you can do with that ball<br />
will make you the winning-est winner of all.<br />
Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be,<br />
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.<br />
<br />
Except when they don’t.<br />
Because, sometimes, they won’t.<br />
I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too.<br />
Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.<br />
<br />
All Alone!<br />
Whether you like it or not,<br />
Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.<br />
And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance<br />
you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.<br />
There are some, down the road<br />
between hither and yon,<br />
that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.<br />
<br />
But on you will go though the weather be foul.<br />
On you will go though your enemies prowl.<br />
On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl.<br />
Onward up many a frightening creek,<br />
though your arms may get sore<br />
and your sneakers may leak.<br />
<br />
On and on you will hike.<br />
And I know you’ll hike far<br />
and face up to your problems whatever they are.<br />
<br />
You’ll get mixed up, of course,<br />
as you already know.<br />
You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.<br />
<br />
So be sure when you step.<br />
Step with care and great tact and<br />
remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act.<br />
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.<br />
And never mix up your right foot with your left.<br />
<br />
And will you succeed?<br />
Yes! You will, indeed!<br />
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)<br />
Kid, you’ll move mountains!<br />
<br />
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray<br />
or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea,<br />
you’re off to Great Places!<br />
Today is your day!<br />
Your mountain is waiting.<br />
So…get on your way!</span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i>Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-74188312466620950052011-07-09T13:46:00.000+08:002011-07-09T13:46:24.327+08:00Obsession with little scraps of fabricQuilting Obsession. I haz it. I loves it. I'm starting to dream in colours and squares, and that's ok.<br />
<br />
A few pics of works in progress:<br />
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This one was a bit of a test run, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Just have to actually quilt it now!<br />
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And this one is for my mama who is in to very girlie pinks and purples. These are all the blocks just laid out together:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFU2OY9kzRhRMPd3g0NtVULq-ZxrN8VAzRASK7jmUTXLfxyuOmZDxu-dK5y_eJtQULj06v_gOlFhHiPxDsEmcb7CZAdByOnCcQdQkIR3yZ6Obwq57usNQn_OQ6Eb8ZLavOqdDCyCkPXA/s1600/mummy+quilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFU2OY9kzRhRMPd3g0NtVULq-ZxrN8VAzRASK7jmUTXLfxyuOmZDxu-dK5y_eJtQULj06v_gOlFhHiPxDsEmcb7CZAdByOnCcQdQkIR3yZ6Obwq57usNQn_OQ6Eb8ZLavOqdDCyCkPXA/s320/mummy+quilt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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And here it is with the sashing nearly finished:<br />
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This really is rather good fun. Just hoping I don't stuff it up after the eleventy billion hours of work that have gone into getting it to this stage!<br />
<br />
STxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-53116987926037580552011-06-29T17:13:00.000+08:002011-06-29T17:13:14.151+08:00TV Romance - I only WISH it was dead!*SPOILER ALERT - IF YOU WATCH GREY'S ANATOMY AND HAVEN'T SEEN IT THIS WEEK YOU MIGHT NOT WANNA READ ANY MORE YOU SAD, SAD PERSON*<br />
<br />
*Disclaimer - this post written from the depths of despair, so may contain multiple grammatical errors, overuse of capitalisation and the occasional rude word*<br />
<br />
So I was just walking from the supermarket to the bottle shop, laden with bags, as you do. Whilst passing the newsagency I saw the following magazine cover in the window:<br />
<br />
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and after muttering under my breath something along the lines of "OMGNOWAIDUDE", I found that I was becoming irrationally angry at the concept of Meredith and Derek splitting up. Again.<br />
<br />
Let me first set the record straight. I gave up Grey's Anatomy some time around season 3 or 4, because the on-again, off-again romances made me want to stick knitting needles in my eyes during each episode, so it's entirely possible that I've missed something. I suspect not much, however.<br />
<br />
Why did it piss me off, you ask? Well, it's like the whole Ross-Rachel thing. All. Over. Again. In stereo surround sound. I barely survived The Whole Ross-Rachel Thing back in the 90's, or however long ago that was, and here TV goes doing it again.<br />
<br />
In a nutshell - if two intelligent, gorgeous, and loving (albeit emotionally scarred to a degree that makes me giggle sometimes) fictional characters can't find love, what possible chance do the rest of us have, for eff's sake?<br />
<br />
Don't these TV writers know that the only reason we put up with their on-again, off-again, nail-biting, season-finale-relationship-cliffhangy melodrama is to discover that in the end that true love will win? We don't want to see a couple struggle for years to overcome their personal issues, work crises, family dramas, sexy ex-partners and fashion accidents only to FAIL! We are only too familiar with this end result - we want to see Happily Ever After. No Matter What.<br />
<br />
I do know why they do it, I do. They want people to keep coming back again and again and again and again to see the same stories slightly re-jigged, with newer and more exciting obstacles for our hero and heroine to overcome. Let's face it, if Ross and Rachel fell in love, had 2.5 babies and moved to the 'burbs in season 2 of Friends, no one would watch.<br />
<br />
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<br />
But I want it to end well. At least sometimes. Well, once. I honestly can't remember the details of the ending of Friends, but a quick google search gives me the idea that they ended up together. In the last episode. And how do we know that lasted? Who knows what sitcom characters get up to after the series ends? I suspect they got married (again) and took a honeymoon to Sydney and on the way home the plane crashed on a mysterious island where they... Ok. I'm getting silly now.<br />
<br />
So Grey's Anatomy writer people? I don't like this turn of events at all. Google also reliably informs me that Patrick Dempsey (minor swoon break) has said season 8 will be his last. Sort it out, writers - if they don't end up in Happily Ever After Land I'm going to be seriously pissed off. Let's have a happy ending this time.<br />
<br />
STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-40968084840213060292011-06-28T11:30:00.001+08:002011-06-28T11:30:30.323+08:00Guest post - should dad be allowed to "opt out"?This is a guest post by Lisa, who I was pretty sure would discuss this topic a lot more sensibly and, erm, less emotionally than I would. I was also involved in the online discussion she mentions, and was heartbroken by many of the views expressed by other women and mothers.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><u><span style="font-size: large;">SHOULD DADS BE ALLOWED TO 'OPT OUT' OF PARENTING?</span></u></strong></div><br />
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I’m a member of a parenting website that is mostly frequented by mums –stay at home mums, working mums, single mums, younger mums, not so younger mums. You get the point.<br />
<br />
Recently a topic was raised to discuss whether men should have a set period of time to ‘opt out’ of paying child support for an unwanted pregnancy. The window of time proposed was the same for the mother to terminate the pregnancy. The mums on this parenting website are a clever lot but they can’t take credit for coming up with this proposal. An attorney in South Carolina coined the term “male abortion” and suggested this opt out proposal would give men equality in reproduction, in the same way that woman can opt out of parenthood by simply having an abortion.<br />
<br />
As a topic on a mum’s forum it seemed like a non-starter. No mother would agree to take away a child’s right to financial security, just to save an unwilling father some cash, right? No mother would suggest that abortion is a simple option, right?<br />
<br />
Wrong.<br />
<br />
Debate was heated and probably half of the mums - and a few dads - agreed with a proposal. Some women argued that men can be duped into parenthood by conniving women. Others said the $1 billion dollars in child support owed by deadbeat parents was proof the current system allowed parents to effectively opt out - without signing away their rights to have contact with the child. In the opt out scenario, if a father opted out, his child loses their rights to contact the father at any point in the future.<br />
<br />
The problems with this opt out proposal are so numerous and so obvious it’s not a reasonable enough idea to be convincingly half-arsed. Is there such a thing as quarter-arsed? Perhaps one eigth-arsed?<br />
<br />
First, abortion is not an option for every woman. Some women have are passionately pro-life. For them, there is no opting out of an unwanted pregnancy so why should her male sexual partner have that right?<br />
<br />
Second, abortion is not without risk or consequence. A man electing to walk away from the consequences of an ejaculation, is not comparable to a surgical termination of pregnancy. Suggesting these two acts are the same completely trivializes the very real physical risks to a woman who terminates a pregnancy, not to mention the possible emotional consequences.<br />
<br />
Third, even unwanted kids have rights. International conventions and domestic laws give all children (even the annoying ones) the right to financial protection from their parents. Even if their parent doesn’t live with the child, has remarried, has more kids or is simply a self centred asshat, that child’s rights still exist. The parent’s wishes to safeguard their cash do not over ride a child’s need to financial security.<br />
<br />
Fourth, this scenario puts 100% responsibility for fertility in the hands of women. Theoretically men could take no responsibility for contraception while having confidence that should anything happen, they have an equal lack of responsibility for the consequences. And that’s equality?<br />
<br />
Fifth, this proposal would essentially provide financial remuneration for dads to abandon their kids. The money is a sweetener to stop men from attempting to have any relationship with an unplanned child. Surely a dad has more value in a child’s life than his wallet? And what happens if he decides he wants contact at a later date – does he need a bank loan to pay the years of child support, like a ransom – before that can take place?<br />
<br />
The proposal is so ludicrous that it’s hard to find the upside.<br />
<br />
But as ludicrous as this proposal seems it was recently tested in a US court. Naturally it failed because it’s not only morally repellant, but unworkable as public policy. However, in the court of public opinion, it could be a different story. If half of the women on a mum’s forum would support this proposal, presumably even more men would agree. <br />
<br />
For once, I’m actually very glad that our judicial system is so ‘out of touch’ with public opinion. <br />
<br />
Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-50469625509408100282011-06-17T13:42:00.001+08:002011-06-17T13:44:24.158+08:00New Child Restraint Laws<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Are you sure your children are properly restrained in the car?</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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This is a guest post by the delightful Danni from<a href="http://www.rockabyebabyhire.com.au/"> Rock-a-Bye Baby Equipment Hire</a> in Sydney. <a href="http://www.rockabyebabyhire.com.au/">Rock-a-Bye Baby</a> hire out a full range of premium and elite brand baby products, and Danni ensures she is always up to date on the latest safety tips and legislation regarding all of the products she supplies!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Disclaimer: this isn't a paid promotional type of post; Danni is a friend and when I thought about doing a post on child car restraints I knew who to ask!)</span><br />
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<div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;">New National Child Restraint Laws<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br />
</span></b></div><b>New laws have been passed that make it mandatory for children under seven to be restrained in an appropriate child restraint. These laws are designed to increase the safety of your children and reduce the number of children injured or killed in car accidents. <br />
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<b>Summary of the new legislation:</b><o:p></o:p><br />
Babies <b>younger than six months of age</b> must be restrained in a rearward facing restraint.<br />
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Children from <b>six months to four years of age</b> must be restrained in a rearward facing or forward facing restraint that has an inbuilt 5 point safety harness. Children <i>under four years of age</i> must not travel in the front row of a vehicle with two or more rows.<br />
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Children from <b>four to seven years of age</b> must be seated in a forward facing restraint or booster seat.<br />
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Children from <b>four to seven years of age</b> can only sit in the front row of a vehicle with two or more rows when all other seats are occupied by children of a lesser age in an approved child restraint.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>What if my child is small, or large, for their age?</b><br />
If your child is too small for a restraint specified for their age, they should be kept in their current of restraint for as long as necessary. If your child is too large for a restraint specified for their age, they may move to the next level of restraint. Basically if your child is under seven and fits in a restraint, they should be in one, providing they suit the weight requirement as specified by the car seat manufacturer. New car seats suiting children up to 36kg will be available on the market shortly.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>Why was the legislation implemented?</b><br />
The current evidence shows that most parents in Australia move their child out of child restraints and into adult seat belts from around five years of age. Research indicates that this is too early and increases the potential for serious injury and death.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Car accidents are associated with a large number of child fatalities in Australia. Between 1999 and 2003, 587 children aged 0-14 years died as a result of transport accidents. This accounts for 40% of all fatalities in this age group due to external causes. <o:p></o:p><br />
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According to Dr Jeff Potter, the National Transport Commission’s Senior Manager–Safety, new age-based minimum standards would improve public understanding and reduce injuries. “While many parents and carers strive to do the right thing, the research shows children are moving to bigger seats too early. The new laws will provide better guidance informed by the latest available technology, research and world’s best practice,” Dr Potter said.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>Why do the new rules refer to the age of the child, rather than their weight, size or height?</b><br />
Regulations using the age of the user will result in the smallest percentage of infants being inappropriately restrained and guidelines are easier for parents and carers to understand and follow if given in terms of age, rather than height and weight.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b><o:p> </o:p></b><b>Can I use a child restraint that was purchased overseas?</b><br />
No you cannot. Child restraints purchased overseas are illegal and do not comply with the Australian Standard.<o:p></o:p><br />
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All infant restraints that meet the Australian Standard will clearly display this label. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn1Bax_ai1P4TW4mE35GJWLixQFACklomBZ_bBVtFn-77o3ZR2_dyBhw_ISDy0HmL2YlsJTD4KtijuuCmeRvBf4UFj-gp1uPEJ1zvib7Ud2kf35GiXZhDpl_j0Yi3bcgu-WwzlMGZ4eU/s1600/Australianstandard1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn1Bax_ai1P4TW4mE35GJWLixQFACklomBZ_bBVtFn-77o3ZR2_dyBhw_ISDy0HmL2YlsJTD4KtijuuCmeRvBf4UFj-gp1uPEJ1zvib7Ud2kf35GiXZhDpl_j0Yi3bcgu-WwzlMGZ4eU/s200/Australianstandard1.gif" width="132" /></a></div><br />
If your restraint does not have the label affixed, even if it has fallen off due to age, the restraint should be considered unsafe and it is not recommended that you use it.<br />
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All Australian vehicles have a uniquely developed tether strap anchorage system, which only Australian Standard approved child restraints are compatible with. In addition, the Australian Standard for child restraints is one of the most stringent child restraint standards in the world. Unlike the European Standard, the Australian standard requires all restraints to be tested in both side and rear impact tests.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>Can I hire a baby capsule, child restraint or booster seat?</b><br />
Yes. Child restraints can be hired from private companies, hospitals and local councils.<o:p></o:p><br />
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</b><br />
<b>Who is responsible for ensuring a child is restrained in an approved restraint?</b><br />
The driver of the motor vehicle is responsible for ensuring all children are restrained in appropriate, standards approved restraints. Penalties will apply for failing to ensure all children are appropriately restrained.<o:p></o:p><br />
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For more information:<o:p></o:p><br />
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</b><br />
<b>Nationally</b><br />
Australian Transport Safety Bureau website ph: 1800 020 616 <o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>State by State</b><o:p></o:p><br />
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<b>ACT </b><br />
Territory and Municipal Services ph: 13 22 81 (ACT and NSW residents only) or (02) 6207 5111 or (02) 6207 0494 TTY<br />
<a href="http://www.tams.act.gov.au/move/vehicles/vehicle_safety/childrestraintsinfo">http://www.tams.act.gov.au/move/vehicles/vehicle_safety/childrestraintsinfo</a><br />
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<b>NSW </b><br />
Roads and Traffic Authority (RTA) ph: 13 17 82 or 13 22 13 to find your nearest RTA Authorised Fitting Station <br />
NRMA ph: 1300 655 443 or (02) 8741 6000<br />
<a href="http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/roadsafety/children/childrestraints/index.html">http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/roadsafety/children/childrestraints/index.html</a><br />
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<b>Queensland </b><br />
Queensland Transport ph: 13 23 80<br />
<a href="http://www.transport.qld.gov.au/Home/Safety/Road/">http://www.transport.qld.gov.au/Home/Safety/Road/</a><br />
RACQ website ph: 13 19 05 or (07) 3248 2074 TTY<br />
<a href="http://www.racq.com.au/">http://www.racq.com.au/</a><br />
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<b>South Australia </b><br />
Transport SA ph: 13 10 84<br />
<a href="http://www.transport.sa.gov.au/index.asp">http://www.transport.sa.gov.au/index.asp</a><br />
RAA ph: (08) 8202 4600 or (08) 8202 4750 TTY<br />
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<b>Tasmania </b><br />
RACT ph: 13 27 22<br />
<a href="http://www.ract.com.au/shops_service_centres/buy_and_fit_child_restraints/16164">http://www.ract.com.au/shops_service_centres/buy_and_fit_child_restraints/16164</a><br />
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<b>Victoria </b><br />
Vic Roads ph: 1300 360 745 <br />
<a href="http://www.vicroads.vic.gov.au/Home/">http://www.vicroads.vic.gov.au/Home/</a><br />
RACV ph: 13 72 28<br />
<a href="http://www.racv.com.au/wps/wcm/connect/racv/Internet/Primary/road+safety/child+safety">http://www.racv.com.au/wps/wcm/connect/racv/Internet/Primary/road+safety/child+safety</a><br />
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<b>Western Australia </b><br />
Office of Road Safety ph: 13 81 38<br />
<a href="http://www.ors.wa.gov.au/NewsMedia/Pages/news.aspx#child">http://www.ors.wa.gov.au/NewsMedia/Pages/news.aspx#child</a><br />
WALGA RoadWise program ph: 1300 780 713<br />
<a href="http://www.childcarrestraints.com.au/">http://www.childcarrestraints.com.au/</a><o:p></o:p><br />
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<i>Article supplied by Sydney-based </i><a href="http://www.rockabyebabyhire.com.au/" target="_blank"><i>Rock A Bye Baby Equipment Hire</i></a><i>. (02) 9589 4942, 0406 984 452 </i><o:p></o:p><br />
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Thanks, Danni!<br />
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STxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-55007247898309958152011-06-16T22:05:00.003+08:002011-06-16T22:12:40.437+08:00I can haz Facebook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeaIXNvVUkjxOf8AGKTsaWfAwn2PMXd_RGN0KjkgnW4bVgXJyt627EDmF_FrbzqbqgXhZlI4_NSKEQj5ZEsGgAMmBSZ3ve6wQ6kwJj7NTf872nDOOr3o-NPBQ-_DCcxk9dN2mJsAJj3E/s1600/find+us+on+facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeaIXNvVUkjxOf8AGKTsaWfAwn2PMXd_RGN0KjkgnW4bVgXJyt627EDmF_FrbzqbqgXhZlI4_NSKEQj5ZEsGgAMmBSZ3ve6wQ6kwJj7NTf872nDOOr3o-NPBQ-_DCcxk9dN2mJsAJj3E/s320/find+us+on+facebook.jpg" t8="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
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Now seems the perfect time to cheat on Twitter and start a social media threesome to add some spark to my life, so I'm now on Facebook, too.<br />
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You can like me by clicking the link on the left. Or you can ignore this post and do nothing. In which case I shall sink into a lonely pit of despair and gloom.<br />
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You choose.<br />
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:-)<br />
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STxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-17986909719850487972011-06-16T09:15:00.000+08:002011-06-16T09:15:01.974+08:00Beloved BootsMy feet are borked. This is a simple, yet unpleasant fact. Botched surgery when I was 20ish to repair a case of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morton's_neuroma">Morton's neuroma</a> and hammertoes, followed by 20 years in the hospitality and events industry has led me down the path of Comfortable Footwear For Life.<br />
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Summer sucks - there simply aren't many hot-weather-appropriate Comfortable Shoes, but in winter my feet squirm in delight at the thought of being snugly encased in boots with thick, fluffy socks.<br />
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My Old Faithfuls, seen below, are a joy to wear, and I love them dearly.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId5jI-mXE3TbcZ09Z07Iz5qP6jItEZWMH9HONMqk3UBfWbZp-C7Krd3CqiEU8pKksQqjncJbksV-1-fI2ndN6AVc-DB9IcJaNiKEuOe_EqRrP-IFkebpTE_wqwwIEfQwlDNKzGqp0Rsg/s1600/Boots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId5jI-mXE3TbcZ09Z07Iz5qP6jItEZWMH9HONMqk3UBfWbZp-C7Krd3CqiEU8pKksQqjncJbksV-1-fI2ndN6AVc-DB9IcJaNiKEuOe_EqRrP-IFkebpTE_wqwwIEfQwlDNKzGqp0Rsg/s320/Boots.jpg" t8="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
Recently, though, I've had a hankering to return to my previous Old Faithfuls - a pair of Doc Martens I bought in London in 1988, which were reluctantly retired to the Doc Marten Fields Of Joy In The Sky about 5 years ago, and hadn't been replaced.<br />
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Until last week.<br />
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When I found these:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYJkvqlc7PLLsDSIyFelMwzId1aW3Fr8rzy6fZRvYFTORE2tfr7LH1F6sCtvfBkdxskIjMl9Q2Gg9XwD44uy8wTR_cu65CHzNalnFOxe7pKIzzEX911e78xVjYV02PEw2fJDsuTtK_NQ/s1600/d31197a64de640218a8c22802f7d6c07_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYJkvqlc7PLLsDSIyFelMwzId1aW3Fr8rzy6fZRvYFTORE2tfr7LH1F6sCtvfBkdxskIjMl9Q2Gg9XwD44uy8wTR_cu65CHzNalnFOxe7pKIzzEX911e78xVjYV02PEw2fJDsuTtK_NQ/s320/d31197a64de640218a8c22802f7d6c07_7.jpg" t8="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
They are black and shiny, with a gorgeous embossed floral design. The leather is slightly softer than the standard Docs, and are already beginning to stretch and relax into my own personal borked foot shape. The simple act of putting them on and lacing them up makes me feel like a rebellious student stomping about the streets of London again.<br />
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I love my stomping boots.<br />
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STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-63541907005510270652011-06-15T14:54:00.000+08:002011-06-15T14:54:55.312+08:00Come on, it's funny!Found myself giggling out loud at Transperth's twitterstream today about their on-again-off-again service, so thought I'd share.<br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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UPDATE: Armadale Line - service disruption (Effective immediately, Wednesday 15 June 2011 at 1.05pm): ... http://bit.ly/lxRRlo<br />
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1 hour ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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Trains have resumed between Armadale & Cannington on the Armadale Line. Delays are expected while services return to timetabled running.<br />
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1 hour ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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UPDATE: Armadale Line - service disruption (Effective immediately, Wednesday 15 June 2011 at 12.45pm): ... http://bit.ly/mzaUdK<br />
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1 hour ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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UPDATE:Train replacement bus services are currently not operating. An update will be provided shortly.<br />
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1 hour ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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Train replacement bus services will pick up passengers at train replacement stops near stations.<br />
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2 hours ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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Armadale Line trains are currently disrupted due to a Western Power power outage.Trains are not operating between Cannington and Armadale<br />
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2 hours ago <br />
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Transperth Transperth <br />
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Interested in seeing the results from Canstar Blue’s Most Satisfied Customers - City Trains survey? If so, visit http://bit.ly/jCc3Vh<br />
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5 hours ago <br />
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(For the record, the survey they mentioned above listed Perth as the nation's most satisfied customers. I'm thinking perhaps not so much today...) <br />
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STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-9020586060407979212011-06-14T10:29:00.000+08:002011-06-14T10:29:46.139+08:00Rant du jour - Perth public transportation!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjnT8doi2IOX4-jsNq6MiMCu9orBkywc5BVF28NUQrDH9tFlJvQrsTEzlwPzvQiDkxRyg28UNfalNDSaDRhr9NboqcrA6i6oRq5dypH89qeEKX5YFaLBX3idjmP3-JXm_c9IXCTIAZrg/s1600/train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxjnT8doi2IOX4-jsNq6MiMCu9orBkywc5BVF28NUQrDH9tFlJvQrsTEzlwPzvQiDkxRyg28UNfalNDSaDRhr9NboqcrA6i6oRq5dypH89qeEKX5YFaLBX3idjmP3-JXm_c9IXCTIAZrg/s200/train.jpg" t8="true" width="200" /></a>I think the idea of public transportation rocks. No, really, I do. No traffic jams, doing one's bit for the environment, and not having to deal with the utter numpties on the Perth roads - it's all full of win!<br />
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Or is it?<br />
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I live within 5 minute's drive of a train station and work in the CBD. There is another train station within about a 7 minute drive from my house. Note I used the words "drive from my house". I want use the train. I desperately want to use the train. I can't even drive into the city in time to start work even if I COULD afford around $20 a day for parking plus petrol, because before-school care opens at 7am and not a minute sooner.<br />
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So train it is.<br />
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Let's see how this works. I've managed to rejig my work schedule to start at 9:15 2 days a week to save paying out for before school care, so I drop the kids at school at around 8:20 and head to the station. <br />
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But wait. There's a problem. Firstly, there's no free parking left. It's full by around 6:55am. No worries, I don't mind paying $3 a day to park. But wait. There's another problem. There's no PAID parking left either. None - I mean NONE within a 20 minute walk of the station. In despair, I head to the next train station only to find the same story.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJwaBz6VQ1BHkofKtTs_l4esBVKfPpf2JkGuuVHMXalp7OEYC2zy-E5l8_Ra4KxyH3Zs2w3ksXS9b0IGJhBzvvDolSV6NTTZjve-K1wq26UtCTga4r3OudRn45Tu2JeUTXluZXQOQzy2A/s1600/car+park+full.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJwaBz6VQ1BHkofKtTs_l4esBVKfPpf2JkGuuVHMXalp7OEYC2zy-E5l8_Ra4KxyH3Zs2w3ksXS9b0IGJhBzvvDolSV6NTTZjve-K1wq26UtCTga4r3OudRn45Tu2JeUTXluZXQOQzy2A/s200/car+park+full.bmp" t8="true" width="200" /></a></div>OK. Absolute worst-case scenario, I'm going to have to drive to work. So I do. But wait. There's a problem. There's no parking anywhere near work. None - I mean NONE! All full.<br />
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Hmmmmm. This is indeed tricky, and I'm already 30 minutes late now. Whatever shall I do? <br />
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I can hear the responses from you already - WHY, O Sparkly Tiara, WHY do you drive to the station? Just take a bus - nice and simple. Well, no, actually, it isn't. The closest a bus goes to the kids' school would involve a 15 minute walk in addition to a 15 minute bus ride. Twice. Once from home to school and then again from school to train station. That adds an hour to the already hour-long commute. That seems rather absurd. It would also mean that on the return trip I'd arrive at after-school care an hour after they shut. I think they'd get heartily sick of that in a hurry.<br />
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Ride a bicycle, I hear you suggest quietly? Hmmm. No. Not only do I loathe and detest bicycles, but I am also one of those unfortunate types who tends to "glow" profusely from exercise, and I do not wish to inflict BO upon my students all day. Showering at work is not an option. We're lucky if there's soap in the dispensers in the ladies' room, never mind showers. Plus my 6 year old daughter is still very shaky on the bike and I'm not risking her anywhere near Perth's atrocious drivers.<br />
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One day a few weeks ago, in sheer desperation, I parked One Parking Spot Away from the designated "all day parking" at the station. There was nowhere else to park. It had all filled up by around 7am. I saw a car next to me with a plaintive note in the windscreen begging not to get a ticket because there simply were no options.<br />
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Yep - we both got tickets. I'm not paying. Feck 'em. I'd rather go to court and calmly rant at the Magistrate about the impossibility of it all. Yeah, I'll probably still be told to pay, but at least I'll get my soapbox moment, damn it!<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3K3HpLlQkZxCDCE4F6OgTVof6czoqZUBR4xOwyLnqtAZOF1F0SXS8tq7ULpyhvKa9Q6xp97qOL5Yh1928mpWbCMXaQssD8xbPSYeFJA9Xng_IRMlmEWJWdPVvehB-kalYzlgtWUcRIvA/s1600/traffic+jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3K3HpLlQkZxCDCE4F6OgTVof6czoqZUBR4xOwyLnqtAZOF1F0SXS8tq7ULpyhvKa9Q6xp97qOL5Yh1928mpWbCMXaQssD8xbPSYeFJA9Xng_IRMlmEWJWdPVvehB-kalYzlgtWUcRIvA/s200/traffic+jam.jpg" t8="true" width="129" /></a>So what's the answer? Simple - we need low-cost multi-storey car parks at major train hubs. People will use trains if they are a viable option. They really, really will (although decent coffee and free wifi wouldn't go astray as a sweetener). The freeways are utterly jammed from around 5:30 until 9:00, then again from 3:30 - 6:30 and Perth residents are understandably Fed Right Up. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Angry motorists on the freeway are not good. Accidents and road-rage incidents are common. Sense, apparently isn't.</div><br />
So, Government of Western Australia - DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-29344645473042941322011-06-12T14:37:00.000+08:002011-06-12T14:37:29.903+08:00Things that make you go SQUEEEEEEEE!<div><div><div>As I haven't done a SQUEEEEEEEEE post in a while I thought I'd do one today.</div><br />
<div>This first one is the birthday cake my children made for me on my last birthday. I just came across the photo again today, and thought it was a Must Share. Why is it that cakes baked and decorated for you by your kids taste so much better?<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617215872151524962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83pKnMHCjwD8W29iauxh9zQNvkOybX58SY1mPKDVkCLUzsO3TE9rql4McPlYaTbsl9IWWYj-4HQxQsOGeFZiuAjYJJ_jXD58JukTncxeI8sUbLvEWmxuDmZPnXXG2BT4msfo-TgzjN-U/s320/birthday+cake.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /><br />
Then we have my daughter, Miss Z, who defiantly refused to go to bed one night last week, so went to floor instead as a protest. Bless her - she's getting a bit heavy to lift up and put back in bed!</div><br />
<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617216043519238898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjznARohmmcGfQIBpiDJpuws73zqLGf9FtBIZtxh7v5MHhqURLv6A3hXyHgVL0VTHRMZsvSrzZbhoYUk6LdrUgz9TmAKsY44eOxuWhW1SJ5oHZkMqcKztWbKdkPx2v4LtJ8wbbNxMCKLXA/s320/Zoe+going+to+floor.jpg" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /><br />
Then this morning a lovely photographer friend of mine who runs <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.63601845119.99953.734710119#!/TaylorMadeMoments">Taylor Made Moments </a>shared a photo she took of her kitteh which I also thought was very worth sharing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIVz1DgPRrM1N12_57z8Ro4AUpIf9xlImPUWoCgWD7GhrjjDuGC_eK5UOVeJKdNztIXrNQdoVSiFHCCsKJPutOIPzbRE_thnwODDQ9La6v1VbC_DBiDo7j8q5eDoStowROold_MUgoZIM/s1600/kaylene+cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIVz1DgPRrM1N12_57z8Ro4AUpIf9xlImPUWoCgWD7GhrjjDuGC_eK5UOVeJKdNztIXrNQdoVSiFHCCsKJPutOIPzbRE_thnwODDQ9La6v1VbC_DBiDo7j8q5eDoStowROold_MUgoZIM/s320/kaylene+cat.jpg" t8="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
And last, but by no means least, here's a nostalgic (to me) photo of where I grew up. Yeah, I know, right? The reason I'm no longer there is....?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVpbvSFAM-oNceB4j9TSlNYNo_hr1Co04Gy6oMb5BP0gUNkwnWK1CRsIBhbmNDBwjyk1CBeECbYDNeWvr9QuZ0elK7ptChWlirtzNssCRhf8rFXAA87ENIn2eDm3aoI9bE_kh0Hhteqk/s1600/cayman-condos-seven-mile-beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVpbvSFAM-oNceB4j9TSlNYNo_hr1Co04Gy6oMb5BP0gUNkwnWK1CRsIBhbmNDBwjyk1CBeECbYDNeWvr9QuZ0elK7ptChWlirtzNssCRhf8rFXAA87ENIn2eDm3aoI9bE_kh0Hhteqk/s320/cayman-condos-seven-mile-beach.jpg" t8="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
STxxx<br />
</div></div>Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-9325957025005752232011-06-07T20:21:00.000+08:002011-06-07T20:25:47.231+08:00Another New Blog!And this one is by me!<br /><br />Inspired by a need to teach my kids (and myself) some olde worlde low-tech lifeskills, I've started another blog and FB page just for that purpose. The idea is to share the challenge, share the knowledge and share a few giggles along the way, so if you're into the idea of self-sufficiency, sustainability and doing it the non-electronic way for a change, then please do drop by.<br /><br />If you'd like to contribute a how-to post, share an experience or post in any other way, just comment with you email address and I'll add you as an author.<br /><br />The Low Tech Life blog can be found <a href="http://www.lowtechlifestyle.blogspot.com/">JUST AROUND HERE </a>and the FB page is located <a href="http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Low-Tech-Lifestyle/205212559522200">SOMEWHERE IN THE VICINITY OF THIS</a>.<br /><br />I do hope you'll join us, 'cos it'll be dreadfully dull and boring if it's just me there.<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-41647874664389662472011-06-07T12:08:00.000+08:002011-06-12T10:20:39.947+08:00Just want to introduce you to a friend...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzexJimkkOYXstFm3FouZ9UpsbaBuNlN9Hy_7iQA-IbB4fQ1pfkXPaPghe6Jg0TUXkiwXaMDMNki6p6eiS9WMav9c4wwUtjnbbnfj9W7eP-F-pAzrPOLbqFIzW6jErKz3VMHAkXwY2hjk/s1600/TGTFARM"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615326116613644354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzexJimkkOYXstFm3FouZ9UpsbaBuNlN9Hy_7iQA-IbB4fQ1pfkXPaPghe6Jg0TUXkiwXaMDMNki6p6eiS9WMav9c4wwUtjnbbnfj9W7eP-F-pAzrPOLbqFIzW6jErKz3VMHAkXwY2hjk/s200/TGTFARM" /></a> ... and her new blog. A blog about her life in rural France, renovating a Very Old French Farmhouse with her hubby Tony the Tractor Guy, and living a life I'd love to live. In fact, we have a deal that if my lotto win comes through I'm on the next plane over there with the kids to hang out in France all summer and help them with veggies, tractor antics and red wine quaffing, so please join me in wishing for those lucky numbers to come up!<br /><br /><br /><div>Her blog is <a href="http://pretendfarmer.blogspot.com/">Diary of a Pretend Farmer</a> and I hope you enjoy reading. I'm thinking there could be some pretty spiffy recipes coming up at some point, too...</div><br /><br /><div>STxxx</div><br /><br /><div>PS - she's also inspired me to crank up my own blog after far-too-long of a break, and for this I thank her.</div>Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-65783281593082548072010-12-09T20:49:00.000+08:002010-12-09T20:59:33.156+08:00Just a quickieLeggings are not pants.<br /><br />That is all.<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-68197975910755821162010-12-06T18:54:00.000+08:002010-12-06T19:41:32.349+08:00Adventures in The Real WorldThis blogpost is specifically addressed to the Mums (or Dads) who spend their lives in suburbia. I've recently discovered a whole new side to life, and, now that I've recovered from shock, I'd like to share some of it with you.<br /><br />Until a few weeks ago my life revolved around suburbia. I woke up in my suburban house, took my kids to their suburban schools, shopped at local shopping centres and socialised (pffffft) with fellow suburbanites at their equally suburban homes and occasionally ventured to suburban restaurants and pubs.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbHvH6l9HsyKiFRKZLHtD-xlKBCut7O-Pp0aEwAgOXNjPURhHKN_DF2us0Q8A0LY-BFEij37vhp4uam_G69wijj9h3ZWSi_WpNFibyqJdMYkTfWh29Dayjdx27tyiXC4h_ky99Z53sA8/s1600/suburbia2.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbHvH6l9HsyKiFRKZLHtD-xlKBCut7O-Pp0aEwAgOXNjPURhHKN_DF2us0Q8A0LY-BFEij37vhp4uam_G69wijj9h3ZWSi_WpNFibyqJdMYkTfWh29Dayjdx27tyiXC4h_ky99Z53sA8/s320/suburbia2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547532563442739794" border="0" /></a><br />Even working involved getting in my hermetically sealed car and driving to another suburban area where I parked 10 metres from the building, hastily walked with shades on to the door and entered a comfortingly familiar suburban workplace.<br /><br />THEN I got a job in the CBD 4 days a week. For those suburban parents unfamiliar with the term CBD, this means Central Business District. Also known as Inner City or Parts Unknown.<br /><br />Commuting to and from this job involves approximately 240 minutes of Being On A Train per week, as well as approximately 280 minutes of Walking Unprotected Through The Inner City.<br /><br />Scared yet? I bet you are!<br /><br />It's been an eye opener, I can tell you. I could write page after page of mind-blowing experiences in Parts Unknown, but that would be terribly boring to anyone who isn't me, so I shall spare you and limit myself to a few observations.<br /><br />1. There are some Very Interesting People in Parts Unknown. These people are quite obviously suburban aliens. They have nothing in common with suburbia whatsoever - in fact, I think if they ventured into suburbia on a Friday morning they'd die of something or other.<br /><br />I met a lady of indeterminate middle-aged-ness a week ago as she boarded our train with her bicycle and her floppy hat bedecked with huge flowers. This woman was larger than life - flaming red hair cut in a dramatic bob, loud, opinionated and open to sharing her views on just-about-anything with the entire carriage. I found out a lot about the "good old days" when life was good. I strongly suspect she is also a supporter of the Liberal party and pooh-poohs all things climate-change related.<br /><br />Just last week I stumbled across a chap walking through the city possibly promoting the virtues of French coffee. Monsieur Cafe was approximately 6'6", skinny as the proverbial rail, wearing skin-tight bright blue jeans, a vibrant blue and yellow striped jersey and matching beret. He had tremendously exciting sideburns, a moustache that would make Poirot jealous and carried a fluffy cup and saucer that was about 15 cm tall. He ambled along Hay Street talking to himself in French, and I truly regret not engaging in coversation with him.<br /><br />My very first day exploring Parts Unknown even brought me the mind-boggling vision of Fred Flintstone parading down the pedestrian section of Murray Street, followed by a 2 metre high rock-wheel rolling behind him.<br /><br />Why do these people do this? WHO CARES! It's effing BRILLIANT!<br /><br />2. I've learned something about myself. I am prone to Sidewalk Rage. Given my years of experience in suburban shopping centres I long suspected I had these tendancies, but the last few weeks have proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Look, I don't really care if you're 10 feet wide, limp (I do), are teaching your 1 year old to walk, simply aren't in a rush and prefer to amble along, but I DO very much mind when you do this in front of me. Especially if there are 5 of you doing the same thing all in a row. Don't you realise that my tendancy to abuse the snooze button means that I'm running late EVERY SINGLE MORNING and you need to get the HELL outta my way? Sheesh!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBDg7Uc_eqdnEFPNk-A0jONff7pnQKrQLpUufJAPhRIzTURqEcJdws3RhhfO1x54mFn2JkU4iurCLtCsW3ZUI4mIVaAnr1h-y8tvoHZaY7KNfkbP0w7yfDG60nyYmN6n2PTFJeMELuoM/s1600/perth+busker.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBDg7Uc_eqdnEFPNk-A0jONff7pnQKrQLpUufJAPhRIzTURqEcJdws3RhhfO1x54mFn2JkU4iurCLtCsW3ZUI4mIVaAnr1h-y8tvoHZaY7KNfkbP0w7yfDG60nyYmN6n2PTFJeMELuoM/s320/perth+busker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547532768816006482" border="0" /></a>3. Buskers rock. I mean, they REALLY do rock. I've seen what looked like a Guatemalan mountain person (complete with poncho) playing the didgeridoo with amazing skill, a teenager absolutely nailing classical tunes on a flute, a bunch of folks playing toe-tapping Russian dance music complete with dancers performing, more than one talented accordian player and one very memorable woman who looked about 90 singing the most beautiful opera arias. All seen for free on the side of the street. I chuck coins in when I can, but could never afford to properly reward these entertainers for the service and beauty they bring to Parts Unknown, but beyond this I totally admire their guts for simply getting up and doing it at all. They rock!<br /><br />4. I'm a snob. When I say that I refer more to behaviour than to anything related to class, so perhaps that's the wrong term. I've seen children behave in a manner that would have me threatening to end their young lives, and the accompanying parents said and did nothing. It's truly disgraceful.<br /><br />5. Carrying on slightly from the previous point, I've come to realise that teenaged girls can be the most baffling and irritating creatures on earth. I'm tempted to urge my daughter to consider a sex-change long before she reaches teenagism. Seriously - are stupid and irritating now considered attractive traits?<br /><br />6. I am now a keen observer of feet. As I gradually learn public transport ettiquette, it's dawning on me that it's not the done thing to make eye contact with anyone, which is fine by me as my eyes are usually bloodshot, caffeine-deprived and shaded with very dark glasses. This has naturally led me to cast my vision downwards, and I am learning more about feet and shoes than I ever really wanted to know. Did you know, for example, that some chicks actually wear those 7inch stilletto platform shoe things to walk to and from work? One really must wonder why.<br /><br />I'm a new and devout member of the Wear Thongs To Commute, Keep Good Shoes In Desk Drawer Club. I mean, why wouldn't you? Well, apart from the obvious pedicure issues.<br /><br />7. And here's the biggie. I've realised how much I was missing out on by staying in my little suburban bubble. It's not like I never ventured into the CBD before, I did, just not very often - usually for shopping on a Sunday or something like that. Experiencing the weekday commute situation, though, is totally different. I want to take my kids with me for some of my commutes so that they can see the Great Big Wide World of People that is out there and learn to love it.<br /><br />In fact, there's a big part of me wants to shed suburbia entirely and move the whole family into the seething mass of interestingness I've discovered. If you haven't walked around your inner city on a weekday in a while, I strongly suggest that you give it a go.<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-42625973069747122012010-11-10T11:43:00.000+08:002010-11-10T12:51:15.981+08:00I think I'm in love...When one is recently single, one obviously starts looking at members of the opposite (or same) sex in a slightly different light, as in a desperately-wanting-to-shamelessly-flirt-with-a-dude-who's-sohotrightnow kind of light.<br /><br />Fortunately I have my friend Tiffany, who discovers some of the most exciting men on the interwebz, and, being a generous sort of woman, usually shares some of the hottest and demigod-like finds with me.<br /><br />Recently Tiffany put me on to a fabulous website called<a href="http://www.plaidstallions.com/"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Plaid Stallions</span></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">,</span> where she introduced me to the total Win that is The Lurve Doctor of the 1970's, the King of the Catalogues, the All Man, All The Time, BRICK MANTOOTH!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw6GVWwipww1kqa8IGTWjPGK6fsRjHXHwvyvIGkUiPD0P486pcHfkQWWSkRKMZBjO_Sspn3pzCFno6acRfrG3j6rRKtZV80lo75fqHlGDrJSBeLgKdLNsvyBJQPhjT9wrBXYReYIMMRQ/s1600/brick1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw6GVWwipww1kqa8IGTWjPGK6fsRjHXHwvyvIGkUiPD0P486pcHfkQWWSkRKMZBjO_Sspn3pzCFno6acRfrG3j6rRKtZV80lo75fqHlGDrJSBeLgKdLNsvyBJQPhjT9wrBXYReYIMMRQ/s400/brick1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537762793446964994" border="0" /></a><br />Oh yeah, ladies (and not a few men), I heard that breathy intake of air and felt that pulse of yours start racing from here! Can you get any more manly than Brick? He's got it all - the perfectly coiffed helmet of manly hair, the gleaming manly smile, the chiseled jaw, lightly-furred chest and... but wait... there's more ...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycaA_QK3tcAvGWPFAnOP7t8VUzGlxmyONcnVwktLDfBPmpNcKiZC2AyGj4-KRv9GuMIQTU3sRTr6Aa-rsj8AP4tJ1KGKAToQ89cvn4TCUY3f3Oy80SHQVDvYGrAJMyzURSaKppLLvAJQ/s1600/brick3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycaA_QK3tcAvGWPFAnOP7t8VUzGlxmyONcnVwktLDfBPmpNcKiZC2AyGj4-KRv9GuMIQTU3sRTr6Aa-rsj8AP4tJ1KGKAToQ89cvn4TCUY3f3Oy80SHQVDvYGrAJMyzURSaKppLLvAJQ/s400/brick3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537763320718770386" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, Brick is apparently also hung like a donkey. Now, I've heard rumours around the water cooler that there may or may not have been socks / large pillows / kaftans involved in the styling of this shot, but I refuse to believe it. Brick has no need of such artifice. The Brick Mantooth Man is, as I've already said, All Man, All The Time.<br /><br />In fact, I think this particular shot of Brick answers Mr Anonymous' questions on <a href="http://lifeandothercrises.blogspot.com/2010/11/so-other-night-my-husband-and-i-were.html">Kerri Sackville's blogpost the other day</a> on What Women Want in the way of a male appendage. Mr Anonymous - Women Want Brick Mantooth.<br /><br />And Brick isn't just tremendously manly and handsome, oh no! He's also a spokesperson for fitness and healthy living. Just look at this clever piece of fitness equipment which he was spotted promoting in a magazine:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9bXkxe2tIKAV_wWR7LLnJCbEfNJkYQYxPCGRSLYV1vEbJHgK-hU0v1TYAgWYfkyHPzHhKpcjptwbyE-QPPV7cNcDzBZymuAFwrQv6BMsea_JYCxjx_RXTLkqGbpmzvf_ERlSyo_cQFQ/s1600/airshorts.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9bXkxe2tIKAV_wWR7LLnJCbEfNJkYQYxPCGRSLYV1vEbJHgK-hU0v1TYAgWYfkyHPzHhKpcjptwbyE-QPPV7cNcDzBZymuAFwrQv6BMsea_JYCxjx_RXTLkqGbpmzvf_ERlSyo_cQFQ/s400/airshorts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537764806116772338" border="0" /></a><br />So ladies (and gents), you can stop looking for the Perfect Man, 'cos I've found him. And I'm keeping him. You will simply have to order one of these replicas from the folks at <a href="http://www.plaidstallions.com"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Plaid Stallions</span></a> and make do with that:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkefVJlBl7nar_cVX4s-gHFW1V8KF9sz2a7qKgi_AMJGk7w9K8_kWdB2VFEHd8sgAmbtmohyBYC6ACi0uymCDArQOezJLlb_Mwp9ZefbFpaTHP88Kb_AdunbpZwQii5GWRU6XDmrs_ZaI/s1600/brickdoll.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkefVJlBl7nar_cVX4s-gHFW1V8KF9sz2a7qKgi_AMJGk7w9K8_kWdB2VFEHd8sgAmbtmohyBYC6ACi0uymCDArQOezJLlb_Mwp9ZefbFpaTHP88Kb_AdunbpZwQii5GWRU6XDmrs_ZaI/s400/brickdoll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537765486319425778" border="0" /></a><br />Yours sincerely,<br />The Future Mrs Brick Mantooth<br />xxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-85088379651401725872010-10-29T15:44:00.000+08:002010-10-29T16:04:41.641+08:00Fashion trends that baffle me.To be fair, I'm quite easily baffled, but I've seen things around the place recently which have me scratching my head and wondering WHY? I mean, I get that fashion is fashion and shalt evermore be fashion world without end amen, but why doesn't Unflattering beat Fashion?<br /><br />Take these thong-boot numbers, for example. They're everywhere, but I think they rate so highly on the fugly-o-meter that they should have their own category on it. Or maybe I'm just showing my age...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-LCjruLJPxyJHo9l6L_071UcJbzXqmf6R4QpNdOqTI37Dc7b1rck2GIuNOxLdmcQsU1xXZEEm9LIFIMTNl90ASOMZ1QofZ-Ct_8-iV8pXuqftdlKCQn_JXbgb72lI7hcQcLB364mTro/s1600/sandalboot.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-LCjruLJPxyJHo9l6L_071UcJbzXqmf6R4QpNdOqTI37Dc7b1rck2GIuNOxLdmcQsU1xXZEEm9LIFIMTNl90ASOMZ1QofZ-Ct_8-iV8pXuqftdlKCQn_JXbgb72lI7hcQcLB364mTro/s320/sandalboot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533373914886089186" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then there's the whole leggings-as-pants issue. There must be a million or so blogposts, nightmare pictures, web sites and Facebook groups that all use the slogan Leggings Are Not Pants. Surely the word is spreading, I mean, people must KNOW how awful it looks, right? So who are all these women (often young girls) who insist on offending my eyeballs left, right and centre every time I venture out of the house? Please Freaking Stop It Right Now!!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioa5OjeMbd387MGk34L8eOCOnVH9CSD0amqH9obnAhuKEP8mG4cfpq4YaYpjBIcgGA3IF8pUmpAlLXxZ26RQ_mOkuFi2XwArG26TJcT0sNqejGGd-HoHZ0gGVEhNV4ELjIFzZau9bBA1g/s1600/Leggings+are+not+pants.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioa5OjeMbd387MGk34L8eOCOnVH9CSD0amqH9obnAhuKEP8mG4cfpq4YaYpjBIcgGA3IF8pUmpAlLXxZ26RQ_mOkuFi2XwArG26TJcT0sNqejGGd-HoHZ0gGVEhNV4ELjIFzZau9bBA1g/s320/Leggings+are+not+pants.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533373149765483362" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It would be rude to leave out the boys, so I've got a special little ranty section for you on emo hair for boys. Please - look in the goddamned mirror before you leave the house. Oh, that's right, you can't actually see anything from behind that hair. That explains a lot.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JG7Ba80Bstw0AeYn_T4NMSMXjpjnNXSUIMvqjvvv4gEjcm_5Raj7y2-1YaIkB0zK6CKdFI8ELX5sDGtPVAdpr9_MFBqIZCUjlm1EG90unjtCgIIXA7TXuBlG5eOcIYiOc_LYhTNwjT8/s1600/emo+hair.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JG7Ba80Bstw0AeYn_T4NMSMXjpjnNXSUIMvqjvvv4gEjcm_5Raj7y2-1YaIkB0zK6CKdFI8ELX5sDGtPVAdpr9_MFBqIZCUjlm1EG90unjtCgIIXA7TXuBlG5eOcIYiOc_LYhTNwjT8/s320/emo+hair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533373240764279090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My last baffling fashion du jour isn't necessarily a new one, but a few tweets on the subject the other night made me do a bit of googling on the subject, and I now heartily wish I hadn't bothered. The whole Toddlers and Tiara look makes me wanna throw up, quite frankly, and then bitch-slap the ignorant fucktards who put their children through it. Tossers.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNCo6nn6tqwWNWbfEqmPXwFRTfFsbTqi4_KR2uXguF7lpqWzhhn2f2quGQGL_PeBcRr448cQs-vaKRCh00TDbMZ5mw8BA8z4LrBXXh6oi-hd53kNn0xebnMLThnu_WEeSYgHczXjz8lE/s1600/toddlers+and+tiaras.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNCo6nn6tqwWNWbfEqmPXwFRTfFsbTqi4_KR2uXguF7lpqWzhhn2f2quGQGL_PeBcRr448cQs-vaKRCh00TDbMZ5mw8BA8z4LrBXXh6oi-hd53kNn0xebnMLThnu_WEeSYgHczXjz8lE/s320/toddlers+and+tiaras.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533373539128298210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So what makes you want to bleach your eyeballs in current fashion trends? Am I just old, crotchety and stuck in the 80s, or are there others who get as stabby as I do seeing people walking around in public willingly (one assumes) dressed like utter gits?<br /><br />Anyhoo - signing off on a Friday arvo here in the blogosphere so I can go chill my wine and my wine glasses, 'cos it's officially Very Nearly Wine o'Clock chez Sparkly Tiara!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkJV2a-wkxip-MxDQVy6e5PGtLNcTkZNRcYEvWSzVRL5mW5F2sFs-uWFtuNIVbdR8AR6phLcRXrWJ0fnW6X8jeYdF8UBhVO_sxzsq5V309CMc2KqVH-fDxPoN1WBYKSQ3p-6VLSXe2AM/s1600/wine.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkJV2a-wkxip-MxDQVy6e5PGtLNcTkZNRcYEvWSzVRL5mW5F2sFs-uWFtuNIVbdR8AR6phLcRXrWJ0fnW6X8jeYdF8UBhVO_sxzsq5V309CMc2KqVH-fDxPoN1WBYKSQ3p-6VLSXe2AM/s320/wine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533374451781623026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Mwah's all round and *clink clink*<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-53549127237667012612010-10-19T12:57:00.000+08:002010-10-19T13:54:32.062+08:00Adventures In Ikea-Land - Part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5X_i2EdWHEYnTn8l2Ob8MPtRR4bPOXkAf9nleax2QMPv1TrLR7m6mQT2CvxiJ5xMc7qxwctmc7JUHGh1x502y4PA05USDdJeZVY3f8nhauKBFpQZqin7Thf9mlLkPlERwxtv6qLYCMpQ/s1600/ikea_logo.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5X_i2EdWHEYnTn8l2Ob8MPtRR4bPOXkAf9nleax2QMPv1TrLR7m6mQT2CvxiJ5xMc7qxwctmc7JUHGh1x502y4PA05USDdJeZVY3f8nhauKBFpQZqin7Thf9mlLkPlERwxtv6qLYCMpQ/s200/ikea_logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529617808531868322" border="0" /></a><br />I fucking love Ikea. In fact, I love it so much this is going to be a blog post in 3 parts just to make sure I properly express my love and devotion to the Swedish God of Stuff.<br /><br />Yes, yes, I know, I profess to be a Friend of the Earth, tree-hugging hippy environmentalist, sustainable-living, anti-mass-consumeristic freak, but when I see that big blue and yellow logo all that goes straight out the window in my need to have more, more, MORE cutely named, cheaply priced and mass-produced STUFF.<br /><br />I don't think I've ever had more fun spending $21.95 than I did this morning in a totally spontaneous Ikea shopping trip. In fact, it was so spontaneous that by the time my mind had <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWz6QE_omkJ7K9acpyhfYs2O_byJsS-UGG8HTE03wlqXqZbxMiMZZlH1unrhDig3Iu1Yczz30B31ykfMpcQ9eyKQk0pvHUejOxeZ3u_ZJjBZNv6poO9t26wlwteKnexI1H000rqsIwI3o/s1600/FANKST.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWz6QE_omkJ7K9acpyhfYs2O_byJsS-UGG8HTE03wlqXqZbxMiMZZlH1unrhDig3Iu1Yczz30B31ykfMpcQ9eyKQk0pvHUejOxeZ3u_ZJjBZNv6poO9t26wlwteKnexI1H000rqsIwI3o/s200/FANKST.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529627378395300514" border="0" /></a>registered the hulking blue structure at the side of the freeway and then briefly pondered my urgent need for a bright pink PS FANGST for my daughter's bedroom, the car had already parked itself in the underground carpark and I was half way to the front door.<br /><br />As I'm sure you are well aware, in order to reach the PS FANGST department at your local Ikea, it is necessary to traverse a veritable jungle of furniture, pictures, kitchens, accessories, lamps, candles and Swedish meatballs via the Well Marked Out Paths With Arrows, Signs and Occasional Marked Shortcuts. Pffft - shortcuts - who'd use those? *YOU MIGHT MISS SOMETHING*. In fact, I nearly missed out on seeing these utterly adorable wall hooks shaped like the arse end of a dog by taking a shortcut:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsk7PuhZc7fNxN_3SDdOuA49evxCNVr0jZyc4ZmqGZK1MV1avJXsAtlxtogHI5i8ZEIZolqJneK8OfK05YFjbR52c6VJ8oliPE1nC5ZtmYYjNUoJUrMypdBnjCNivcJ3WaDsIStoP-D8/s1600/BASTIS.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsk7PuhZc7fNxN_3SDdOuA49evxCNVr0jZyc4ZmqGZK1MV1avJXsAtlxtogHI5i8ZEIZolqJneK8OfK05YFjbR52c6VJ8oliPE1nC5ZtmYYjNUoJUrMypdBnjCNivcJ3WaDsIStoP-D8/s200/BASTIS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529619963887910834" border="0" /></a>Phew - thank GOD I saw sense! Anyhoo, just after I passed the above utterly adorable wall hooks shaped like the arse end of a dog I saw something I'd never seen before in any of my many Ikea adventures (dating back, by the way, to London in the late 1980s). A woman was fast asleep curled up on a display sofa within an ingenious replica of a 5m square flat that would easily house a family of 6 including a dog and a canary.<br /><br />Now I'm not talking just sitting with head back and eyes shut. I'm talking shoes off, curled up on her side, head on a cushion and drool oozing out of the side of her mouth. I was, understandably, gobsmacked. How incredibly wonderful! What an amazing endorsement of the sheer comfort of the Ikea sofa! For one to be able to sleep so peacefully in a 5m sq replica flat with approximately 2987 people walking past per minute this sofa must be unequalled in comfort.<br /><br />Naturally I tried to take a photo of this in case you didn't believe me, but was given the evil eye by passers-by as well as a frowny shake of the head by a nearby Ikea Team Member. I think the picture below (from www.bigdogbeds.com which is an uber-cool site, by the way) combined with just a li'l imagination on your part should give you the general idea, though:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgcDuMGKcT-MC_NoAc-qpVombRVRaO4yzVOf6ALVsEpEuFXogTA6tkaUXxg6Xrq9LVL3ht9dOtQIYpXLEbfgAgVxOZ68C4Cj2pDUPk-SWVkSBS4X7ceMQo3yFAzlbXXXZP5bRt7WWj_hA/s1600/dog+on+sofa.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgcDuMGKcT-MC_NoAc-qpVombRVRaO4yzVOf6ALVsEpEuFXogTA6tkaUXxg6Xrq9LVL3ht9dOtQIYpXLEbfgAgVxOZ68C4Cj2pDUPk-SWVkSBS4X7ceMQo3yFAzlbXXXZP5bRt7WWj_hA/s200/dog+on+sofa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529624336276405746" border="0" /></a><br />I feel this post is getting a little off track, so shall try and drag myself back to the point. Not that there really is a point as such, just, you know...<br /><br />I continued down the Well Marked Out Paths With Arrows through an astounding array of Stuff, and began to notice something rather odd. There were people walking the Wrong Way down the path. They were walking in the opposite direction to the arrows! I shit you not, folks. If I hadn't have seen it myself I don't think I would believed such a thing possible.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GnqLHc04jh0wb-NM4jNmxmnItdJovcWP18VhD3dCJZnXm-ivTHEwfhEZpZV0-CadFREOMaJHNmAD7jS1-ORNevBreD6p6nD_RfGWihcsASVwc_-BQhl8ifs2nVW_fBbxW5IGfTZMcEg/s1600/arrows2.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GnqLHc04jh0wb-NM4jNmxmnItdJovcWP18VhD3dCJZnXm-ivTHEwfhEZpZV0-CadFREOMaJHNmAD7jS1-ORNevBreD6p6nD_RfGWihcsASVwc_-BQhl8ifs2nVW_fBbxW5IGfTZMcEg/s200/arrows2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529628500068701058" border="0" /></a>Do they not realise that these Well Marked Out Paths With Arrows serve a vital purpose? Not only do they ensure that customers see every single item in the shop without exception, but they also guide you to the checkout so you can pay for your Stuff. In addition to this, they force a fluid and uni-directional flow of human movement. All it takes is for one person to fuck this up and the whole beautiful, flowing mass of consumerism that is Ikea will DIE!<br /><br />Fortunately I was there to set these people straight and make them turn around immediately. They seemed strangely unappreciative, but I carried on, the lure of $5.95 sets of 17 plastic food storage containers leading me forward.<br /><br />Stay tuned for Adventures in Ikea Land - Part 2; the part where not only do I find some amazing plastic food storage containers, but also test drive the free soft-drink refill machines...<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-82586827985660022702010-10-18T10:09:00.001+08:002010-10-18T11:09:57.025+08:00Aging DisgracefullyWhile comfortably relaxing with Sparkly Dude the other night, watching Foxtel with glass of wine in hand, I discovered the joys of Four Weddings. Celebrity Four Weddings, no less. That was it - we were hooked. The celebrities in question were people I had never heard of, however they were all of, shall we say... a certain age?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKXYMuUdKW10GFb3L-0xccAUsNhRduXn-esteLFvxEU49XqVHoCgNnJq8wd0XM9IXn7FwyuQcFmyKTBK2_uuR4PgaLQaJFz7lghjcOfxsmmvDKuKzHXMXiYteiXNAkqoQ6gXFfgF0a6Y/s1600/webCelebFourWeddings.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxKXYMuUdKW10GFb3L-0xccAUsNhRduXn-esteLFvxEU49XqVHoCgNnJq8wd0XM9IXn7FwyuQcFmyKTBK2_uuR4PgaLQaJFz7lghjcOfxsmmvDKuKzHXMXiYteiXNAkqoQ6gXFfgF0a6Y/s320/webCelebFourWeddings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529207611740623250" border="0" /></a><br />One of them in particular, Katie something or other (the blond in the photo) I thought looked older than I am. I'm quite harsh on myself in judging age, and was confident that she had to be of more advanced years than me.<br /><br />Apparently not. Sparkly Dude disagreed. "Sorry, babe, but she's in her mid 30's at most, and you, well, you're not."<br /><br />"Yes, yes, ok,", sez I, determined to be right. Again. "But she *looks* older than me, doesn't she?".<br /><br />*sound of chirping crickets*<br /><br />*if despair and despondency has a sound effect, then imagine it here*<br /><br />He reckons the 2 brunettes are much older than I am, however their publicists have done their jobs very well, and Google has so far failed to reveal their ages to me, so I'll just agree with him. The amount of plastic surgery going on also makes it tough to assess them in terms of normal human aging.<br /><br />I know I shouldn't have let it get to me, but it really has made me take a close look at myself and how old I look. Inside I honestly still feel about 21 years old and still undecided as to what I want to be when I grow up, so to have to reconcile that sort of self-image with the face in the mirror - grey hair, wrinkles, beginnings of the dreaded double chin, drooping eyelids - is not an easy task.<br /><br />I do what I can - I colour the hair, I moisturise and am getting pretty damned good with the concealer, but I'm losing this battle - gravity and age are slowly but surely winning.<br /><br />Am I going to reach a stage where the me inside feels so little like the me in the mirror that I'm going to resort to more drastic measures, or will it happen the other way around? Will my aging face finally convince my inner-kidsRus that it's time to grow up? I think not, somehow.<br /><br />I remember about 10 years ago proudly announcing that I would never EVER go in for cosmetic surgery of any kind, and that Botox was for insecure women who couldn't accept themselves as they were.<br /><br />HAH! An admirable sentiment, and words easily said when you look in the mirror and still see an image that feels like you. 10 years down the track, after catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and wondering who that old chick is, it's all to easy to want to fight back with whatever tools you can get hold of.<br /><br />Sparkly Dude loves me as I am, and thinks I'm gorgeous. That's all very well and good, but what about when I don't think I'm gorgeous? I've either got to accept this whole aging thing and learn to love my new look, or I've got to fight it tooth and nail.<br /><br />I haven't decided which I'm going to go with yet. How about you?<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-32921331810756024412010-10-05T11:34:00.000+08:002010-10-05T11:57:01.422+08:00Clothing retailers - DO BETTER!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkMbLTxPh0-3jOArhhi-8qTuTADFg1p9H6WMMH_vnU_3Ifre39nUJCi2_I6rSBTbS14cT_jdprBecmEnlE4nI1YFjsEtTq5O_lg9oSW1046QkBjdX7awjguBmzvrhjlgvcdseozZy0kc/s1600/rant_small.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkMbLTxPh0-3jOArhhi-8qTuTADFg1p9H6WMMH_vnU_3Ifre39nUJCi2_I6rSBTbS14cT_jdprBecmEnlE4nI1YFjsEtTq5O_lg9oSW1046QkBjdX7awjguBmzvrhjlgvcdseozZy0kc/s200/rant_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524405553606416978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Earlier this week I spent a small fortune on new summer wardrobes for my offspring, who have had the audacity to increase in size considerably since last summer, selfish little creatures.<br /><br />Not being flush with cash, the vast majority of my purchases came from Target, with a couple of Pumpkin Patch numbers and one or two items from surf shops for the trendy older 2.<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>I've just washed most of them for the first time and as I was hanging them out was utterly disgusted to see the state they were in after ONE wash, in COLD water, NO dryers involved. A few of the tshirts are so stretched out of shape that they're barely recognisable. There are hemlines coming down, long threads trailing from them which have actually pulled holes in the fabric during the wash. Buttons have come off, pockets are fraying ridiculously and overall these items look like they were boiled in a vat of oil and then repeatedly stomped on by a large angry fishwife.<br /><br />Now, I don't expect budget clothing to last forever. I can live with it not even lasting until it's outgrown, but I am NOT happy about them looking like this after one wash. It's quite simply unacceptable.<br /><br />Retailers of Australia - what happened to quality? Seriously, are we turning into such a disposable society that clothing is now designed to only last for one or two wears? Besides the obvious waste and financial cost that entails, what about the environmental costs of mass producing cheap crap that is then thrown away and replaced with more mass-produced cheap crap in no time?<br /><br />It's not good enough, and something needs to be done about it.<br /><br />American retailers, you seem to be a bit more sensible on these things. I still have clothing items purchased in a Target store (so still budget) in California 5 years ago which have been worn and washed countless times and look nearly as good as new. Labels like OshKosh really do seem to focus on quality as well as fashion. Why do we settle for less in Australia? One reason I can think of is that line-drying in the USA is nearly unheard of, so clothing is specifically made to be dryer safe, which I'm guessing involves a higher quality product.<br /><br />Target and Pumpkin Patch - guess what? I'm on my way back to visit you with your shoddy products and will be demanding both an explanation and a refund. I don't want a store credit - I want a refund, and I will be searching online to purchase quality, made-in-Australia items - probably from WAH mothers who actually GET why this is important.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAe9ucGYbJtF9uEGPFPi9Nzky91zazDMVKI0guSVvOtbIQCOmfptxQLM2sK5eOT9AG-ymTuWtA84mW_J0Le0ascLCabzDb57NyEXfDsSnYhqFM905jis3KtYDhiiBgMmLyJ_EKa0P9Bts/s1600/made+in+china.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAe9ucGYbJtF9uEGPFPi9Nzky91zazDMVKI0guSVvOtbIQCOmfptxQLM2sK5eOT9AG-ymTuWtA84mW_J0Le0ascLCabzDb57NyEXfDsSnYhqFM905jis3KtYDhiiBgMmLyJ_EKa0P9Bts/s200/made+in+china.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524405867150253858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Oh - and I'll also be keeping my spending $$ in Australia rather than them heading offshore to China, which happens to be where every shoddy item I've mentioned was made.<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-55366936254240971942010-09-22T09:17:00.000+08:002010-09-22T09:30:01.681+08:00Things that make you go SQUEEEEEEE!Here are a couple of things that have released my inner SQUEEEEEE recently:<br /><br />This was posted by a friend on FB and I think you'll agree the cuteness-overload is nearly blinding.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwnmynvEYsu9rFOZSONfIz00z3J_SYQY9xUflBnu0BKnD3_wSSriK-1dqn92UpC0nvTYD0N148DizcFsklhyszrUrFKpRX3AyKCbgK-JEnpF04RHFh9RhxxBq0ozyCUlD6BBdhhHV3RM/s1600/Fluffy+bunny.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwnmynvEYsu9rFOZSONfIz00z3J_SYQY9xUflBnu0BKnD3_wSSriK-1dqn92UpC0nvTYD0N148DizcFsklhyszrUrFKpRX3AyKCbgK-JEnpF04RHFh9RhxxBq0ozyCUlD6BBdhhHV3RM/s400/Fluffy+bunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519541751436434482" border="0" /></a><br />Then I saw these Demonia Bat shoes, which are available through <a href="http://www.tragicbeautiful.net/">Tragic Beautiful</a> (coincidentally owned by the same FB friend who shared the bunny photo) and they made me SQUEEEEE out loud at fairly high volume!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yOCb7e8oExP2VQUzz7kEHYmgOcIMeyZB820Ha7pg3q96l9SozovAvFUsihUd5LAqxJevm2OW60DfNHJmXs3o9ZkbVsR82AvRAN_KcOEwY2tEScPGoe8xy1ZbFvHhJoYRNl2fRIaq8nE/s1600/Demonia+Bat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 390px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yOCb7e8oExP2VQUzz7kEHYmgOcIMeyZB820Ha7pg3q96l9SozovAvFUsihUd5LAqxJevm2OW60DfNHJmXs3o9ZkbVsR82AvRAN_KcOEwY2tEScPGoe8xy1ZbFvHhJoYRNl2fRIaq8nE/s400/Demonia+Bat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519541953218740306" border="0" /></a>And then there's this utterly adorable newborn photo taken by my very talented friend Jen at <a href="http://www.annarose.com.au/">Annarose Photography</a>. Don't you just want to eat him up??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Iqs_5Dj5pGGOU1KRJTuuboT1YjUMDoNWA4dt5dmmwoA3PKoX6kkE11AlUCF5uznHYDzvccQGovmdeNx_BVWKz1HO88FdA7XdvKQr4QkRaajNZPNycXnK-zBvu6JzKNufUnp4YIJ1HW4/s1600/Newbornpic.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Iqs_5Dj5pGGOU1KRJTuuboT1YjUMDoNWA4dt5dmmwoA3PKoX6kkE11AlUCF5uznHYDzvccQGovmdeNx_BVWKz1HO88FdA7XdvKQr4QkRaajNZPNycXnK-zBvu6JzKNufUnp4YIJ1HW4/s400/Newbornpic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519543484016890082" border="0" /></a><br />And those are just some of the things that make me go SQUEEEEEE!<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-31658265265154580822010-09-21T18:56:00.000+08:002010-09-21T19:16:18.519+08:00WTF was I THINKING?I think it's a form of Tourettes. I find myself in a moment - could be anytime, anywhere, anything - and my mouth just says the STUPIDEST thing possible. My brain then realises what my mouth just said and disowns my entire body.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQeDA9jF4rZkplydUW922-JPO5O9xkGhFaaExKDYhlLkukL3Z6EFodpuQllwVnn7q3qPXa6ZK9IqOm6vQLxyyGvwB2ba6BcVqELr7VvnyFE4beFSr4zAyvKPS8nXJxnYR44efJejmSBY/s1600/DoubleFacePalm.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQeDA9jF4rZkplydUW922-JPO5O9xkGhFaaExKDYhlLkukL3Z6EFodpuQllwVnn7q3qPXa6ZK9IqOm6vQLxyyGvwB2ba6BcVqELr7VvnyFE4beFSr4zAyvKPS8nXJxnYR44efJejmSBY/s400/DoubleFacePalm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519322109488107090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Example - I just stopped at the bottle shop for a bottle of wine and packet of smokes (yeah, I'm all class, me) and while waiting my turn to pay I find myself mildly amused by the hand-stitched tiny white curtain blocking the cigarette packets from my view, so I decide to light-heartedly comment on said curtain to the rather hawt young dude at the counter. It went a li'l bit like this:<br /><br />Me: Oh, cute - you have to hide the cigarettes now?<br /><br />Him: Yeah *checking out hawt young girls giggling at 6 pack of Cocksucking Cowboy shooters*<br /><br />Me: Erm, did you make that curtain yourself?<br /><br />Him: No *checking out anything except me*<br /><br />Me: Hahahahahaha, no, I suppose not. *cringing inwardly and wishing large hole would appear beneath my feet*<br /><br />*awkward moment*<br /><br />*dramatic pause*<br /><br /><br />Me: Ah yes, I remember when they cost less than a dollar a packet *said in wistful tone with deep sigh*<br /><br />Him: Um, ok - that'll be $35 please<br /><br />Me: *presses Eftpos buttons* *runs away very quickly*<br /><br />Oh yeah - that was smooth, T! Let's firstly accuse hawt dude of being a secret curtain-maker, then let's dismiss that offhand as though it's unmanly, even though it really isn't. Then let's follow up with another comment that just covers all the bases - I'm roilly, roilly cool 'cos I've smoked since the dark ages and oh, yeah - I'm really fucking old, too.<br /><br />*sigh* I felt so fucking stupid it reminded me of the time last week at Woolies where I was doubled over, legs crossed, battling through a coughing fit (flu-related, not smoking, I swears), looked up and caught the eye of a couple of skinny teenaged girls in jeggings looking at me and commented "yeah, you go and give birth to 3 big-headed babies and then tell me how perky YOUR pelvic floor is..."<br /><br />Sometimes I wonder why I let myself leave the house.<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-49666657562909393372010-09-20T10:50:00.000+08:002010-09-20T15:18:09.125+08:00Multi-vent Monday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfmeYxDOVlY23mBWCRTqKWXODkVxwYhNzp-0F0bIWiDU2hDA7jQCjj8fqVO8bNg5fWA8jc13TACLyEPRdx6I4bMwlXjX5T01HEZkpm3IBvNw2VfjWWKvdOliNUBFPhxtKRjm4ThDq3Sc/s1600/No+frangipanis+on+cars.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzXQlX1APP335IXzEmSm27yEpGy29Cudb4mAH_rP9HnPy3OSBOA6_-3uEDCQfVKzK9hHkqKl0hg-cOzWEzKr27LmbH4yXvdyyd7HwCCNZN2hVng4R3pZA0Zi2ugfk06G9sR5u5VPJtgs/s1600/rant_small.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzXQlX1APP335IXzEmSm27yEpGy29Cudb4mAH_rP9HnPy3OSBOA6_-3uEDCQfVKzK9hHkqKl0hg-cOzWEzKr27LmbH4yXvdyyd7HwCCNZN2hVng4R3pZA0Zi2ugfk06G9sR5u5VPJtgs/s200/rant_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822901709029970" border="0" /></a><br />Grrrrrr, boo, hiss and detest, I'm having a rant-worthy Monday, so I'm just gonna get it all out...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Centrelink</span></span> -I hate you. I jump through your hoops, I even do so willingly, in grateful appreciation for the financial support you provide me with. But get this - this time I don't actually fit into one of your Neat Little Boxes. I would if I could, honest! I'd LUUURRVVE to fit into your Neat Little Box - but I. Just. Don't. I'm not going out of my way to make your life hell, I promise. I'm just in a little bit of a different situation, so would really appreciate a response other than "I'm sorry, I can only tell you what the law says" 20 times in a row. Yes, I realise this may involve consulting with a more senior staff member with the acute eyesight required to look outside the Neat Little Box, and yes, I am more than happy to make yet another appointment with said senior staff member. Today's appointment may as well have been me sitting opposite a photocopied stack of paper spelling out The Law, for all the good it did. Gah - you suck.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dear Scalp</span></span> - you're taking the pain factor of a sprained hair follicle to ridiculous heights, and I think it's time you stopped being such a drama queen and let me get on with some work without having to wince in pain every time I move my head. Yes - I did actually use the words "sprained hair follicle" - that well-known pony-tail fail injury.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vapid-looking P-platers in hotted up Lancers</span></span> - No words for you - just a visual today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfmeYxDOVlY23mBWCRTqKWXODkVxwYhNzp-0F0bIWiDU2hDA7jQCjj8fqVO8bNg5fWA8jc13TACLyEPRdx6I4bMwlXjX5T01HEZkpm3IBvNw2VfjWWKvdOliNUBFPhxtKRjm4ThDq3Sc/s1600/No+frangipanis+on+cars.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 89px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfmeYxDOVlY23mBWCRTqKWXODkVxwYhNzp-0F0bIWiDU2hDA7jQCjj8fqVO8bNg5fWA8jc13TACLyEPRdx6I4bMwlXjX5T01HEZkpm3IBvNw2VfjWWKvdOliNUBFPhxtKRjm4ThDq3Sc/s320/No+frangipanis+on+cars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518824975771151842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dude fixing up my pergola</span></span> - I know it's not your fault, so this is really aimed at your boss. The hailstorm that smacked Perth soundly across the face was in March. It is now September. I have lived all winter with a pergola roof that resembles thin slices of Swiss cheese. I realise there was probably a lot of call for household repairs after the storm, but seriously, dudes - 6 months? Repeated phone calls to repair company have resulted in one excuse after another - administrative cock-up, bit busy, sprained hair follicle - you get the picture. So then today, when someone actually shows up to do the job, I am SINGULARLY UNIMPRESSED with the fact that someone didn't order enough roof sheeting. You've had 6 months to do this. You've sent 4 different blokes over on 4 separate occasions to measure and you still cock it up. FAIL!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVfa25THCS67ffFpurhxZjGUUPv6h9w2zh6Lci24FnnWmIxp9PVkjF6JXuyF3M85sKi3D-VHujjxshUudpdRkrOEqumH6bov69wZhiTcLD7Xeay8DsVyhNuH71YnZw-G6XOK6d59TSZU/s1600/pink+razor-powerwing-scooter-for-4982383.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVfa25THCS67ffFpurhxZjGUUPv6h9w2zh6Lci24FnnWmIxp9PVkjF6JXuyF3M85sKi3D-VHujjxshUudpdRkrOEqumH6bov69wZhiTcLD7Xeay8DsVyhNuH71YnZw-G6XOK6d59TSZU/s320/pink+razor-powerwing-scooter-for-4982383.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518827357960231618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">To my daugher's beloved scooter</span></span> - next time I go anywhere near you please do me a huge personal favour and run away quickly, zap me with an electric shock or turn invisible - anything to keep me from attempting to ride you again after an afternoon at the pub. Kthxbai. PS - please send painkillers and heatpacks.Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-38870135782092391262010-09-15T12:52:00.000+08:002010-09-15T12:55:23.283+08:00My new blog!Well, as I mentioned in my last post, I've recently started as a Thermomix consultant here in WA and am having more fun playing with this gadget than I can possibly express!<br /><br />I've also started up a new blog for all things Thermomix-related, which I hope you'll stop by and take a look at!<br /><br />My new blog is called <a href="http://thermomixup.blogspot.com">ThermoMixup</a> and has recipes, links, cooking class information, tips, news and much more and you can find it <a href="http://thermomixup.blogspot.com">Right Here</a>!<br /><br />Mwah!<br /><br />ST<br />xxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-5813907083309887212010-08-16T09:21:00.000+08:002010-08-16T09:40:52.606+08:00Plotting and scheming in a fun, fun way!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbuWs7ujXdvXfEgHZrk963p_RaXwwqKVJAtm0zJaKAftGD4AszC4Z13SEBKfxpLM1_JjiJMcsmKeHG7xznG6rUIwY7I7C7VU9B_SO_yJkVrUZ_Yy8uz1kumysbIh4zvd3nKFLk5t_RWc/s1600/Kids+Cooking.jpg"><br /></a><br />Recen<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wB2McvMgTcYcBLZr4nl3kPf5lpaxCMvS088zVseCUrDsFUpWhdhuyqmrLGwY5WHoe_jmf_3PYfWmbKiP3Bd3DPqJztK0It72sKZ-zzhVQIB-r6vpl59CWUP8uHb46o0xBWHsvfeT7WQ/s1600/TMX.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wB2McvMgTcYcBLZr4nl3kPf5lpaxCMvS088zVseCUrDsFUpWhdhuyqmrLGwY5WHoe_jmf_3PYfWmbKiP3Bd3DPqJztK0It72sKZ-zzhVQIB-r6vpl59CWUP8uHb46o0xBWHsvfeT7WQ/s200/TMX.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505816173939550194" border="0" /></a>tly it has seemed that my life is quite food-focussed, and in a good way! I recently signed up as a <a href="http://www.thermomix.com.au/">Thermomix </a>consultant, have started stocking up on healthy, whole-foods and am really excited at getting my family onto a healthier and more sustainable diet. I also made jam. Me - the person who messes up a sweet recipe without even trying! I made the most amazingly dee-lishus strawberry and apple jam in 45 minutes with my new Amazing Kitchen Assistant, Madame Thermomix!<br /><br />A few months ago I started up my Juno Events and Juno Junior kids' party businesses, and I must confess things have been a bit slow (stoned snail pace, actually) to get started, so I got my thinking cap on and tried to think how I could make my business stand out a bit.<br /><br />The answer actually came to me from about 5 sources all at the same time.<br /><br />1. My kids became even more obsessed with Masterchef than I was<br />2. My son went to a Father-Son cooking class with his dad and loved it<br />3. All of my kids have been having as much fun with the new Thermomix as I have, and really getting into the whole concept of whole foods and really Making Stuff From Scratch<br />4. I started watching Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution - the US one, and found I had tears in my eyes at nearly every episode.<br />5. My mother spoke to a friend of hers about my new gadget, and my love of food, and she mentioned that there was a Junior Masterchef about to come out.<br /><br />Well - that had the efffect of that delightful lightbulb popping up over my head and I realised (about time too) that kids cooking classes are the way forward for me. I do love kids, I really do. I'm also no pushover and have no problems whatsoever in doing what it takes to maintain discipline in group situations (aka - I have a reeeeeee-ly good Cross Voice when required).<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbuWs7ujXdvXfEgHZrk963p_RaXwwqKVJAtm0zJaKAftGD4AszC4Z13SEBKfxpLM1_JjiJMcsmKeHG7xznG6rUIwY7I7C7VU9B_SO_yJkVrUZ_Yy8uz1kumysbIh4zvd3nKFLk5t_RWc/s1600/Kids+Cooking.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbuWs7ujXdvXfEgHZrk963p_RaXwwqKVJAtm0zJaKAftGD4AszC4Z13SEBKfxpLM1_JjiJMcsmKeHG7xznG6rUIwY7I7C7VU9B_SO_yJkVrUZ_Yy8uz1kumysbIh4zvd3nKFLk5t_RWc/s320/Kids+Cooking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505815661553299906" border="0" /></a><br />So, I love kids, I love food, I'm passionate about sustainable living and would love to share the benefits of healthy cooking and eating, and I've also got my Cert IV in Training and Assessment, which has taught me all about OHS, lesson planning, learning styles and much more.<br /><br />I would be eternally grateful for any feedback any of you lovely blog-followers could provide. I've got a few ideas on how to actually run this, including:<br /><br />1. Full-term courses one day a week afterschool (like sports etc.)<br />2. Parent and toddler cook-together classes<br />3. Hosting kids' cooking themed birthday parties<br />4. School holiday half-day activities<br /><br />With each class the children would get to take home a main course dish to serve a family of 4, probably, thus freeing up Mum or Dad from cooking dinner that day. They would also get to take home samples of anything else we've made - bread, pastries, cakes - whatever we get up to!<br /><br />Venues at which to hold these classes seem to be everywhere near me, with the local council running a whole heap of lovely community centres which all seem to have very well-planned kitchen areas.<br /><br />So - that's my idea, and I'm running with it! Let me know what you think! Would you send your child to something like this? Do you think they'd even be interested?<br /><br />STxxxSparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-998973503501178461.post-20906110824591172502010-08-10T10:54:00.000+08:002010-08-10T11:08:56.895+08:00Won't SOMEONE think of the Tupperware?Sometimes it feels good (or is absolutely necessary) to bring a little order into an otherwise chaotic life. With this in mind I just resolved to tackle that terrifying, hard-to-reach corner of my kitchen cupboards that houses my collection of plastic food receptacles. These range from worth-their-weight-in-gold Tupperware (all vanished) containers to bulk-purchased cheap-arsed plastic takeaway boxes of all shapes and sizes.<br /><br />What I found was absolutely mystifying. When I finally managed to exit the cupboard on hands and knees and survey my stash I found that I had precisely 55 lids and precisely 11 containers. Of those lids and containers I had precisely 3 matches.<br /><br />To prove that I really do Shit You Not, I took a photo, and here it is. Actually, I took 2 and here they both are.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduYC-_rNRlMRiaieGrK_mtIRGcm0RBuGnq49iQKa6iCB-S4ulhZzN7NKMd1kOdUW9f66iw7ZUyFA57t0m6P20rgB1pJKY_DIWfOzseTfbupYJmMBnjgXezQyMEbxL4UUIoDRk4UY7qBg/s1600/Tupperware2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduYC-_rNRlMRiaieGrK_mtIRGcm0RBuGnq49iQKa6iCB-S4ulhZzN7NKMd1kOdUW9f66iw7ZUyFA57t0m6P20rgB1pJKY_DIWfOzseTfbupYJmMBnjgXezQyMEbxL4UUIoDRk4UY7qBg/s320/Tupperware2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503612280848415202" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHC-ZJWd9UsUW_TDPLvBFdY7NqCXuIk3KUn90XjNoLY6kkoZKBwKl891ANuOe-6btNYFXOcww0WsyvPUUqHAUfX-5TXk1T5CEg3NO2ACVrBJ3qDNBT4gk8DpbvFUIj3JiCrWfmyfB6m4A/s1600/Tupperware1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHC-ZJWd9UsUW_TDPLvBFdY7NqCXuIk3KUn90XjNoLY6kkoZKBwKl891ANuOe-6btNYFXOcww0WsyvPUUqHAUfX-5TXk1T5CEg3NO2ACVrBJ3qDNBT4gk8DpbvFUIj3JiCrWfmyfB6m4A/s320/Tupperware1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503612378477524722" border="0" /></a><br />How. Does. This. Happen?<br /><br />I can understand the occasional container being sacrificed to the Gods of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Playdough</span>, Roughhousing and Occasional Microwave Disasters, but for the love of all that is decent, how did 44 containers vanish? Perhaps (thinking outside the square here) they didn't vanish at all, but never existed, and there's some strange lid-breeding programme going on in my cupboard resulting in multiple births of new and exciting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">containerless</span> lids?<br /><br />Whatever it is, I want my containers back. Or my lids gone. Or more matches. Or at the VERY least - a scientific explanation.<br /><br />STxxx<br /><br />PS - Ignore dirty floor. It's, erm, just the lighting...Sparkly Tiarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02538981865686141603noreply@blogger.com9