Lilly's Life

Slaughterer, Sex worker, shelf filler or lion tamer

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 22:50:00 +0000

Oh phew, the old blog is back without the fancy hair extensions. I will be carefully what buttons I push in future...

I've just been doing my tax return, online of course and just days before the deadline.

I got distracted which is not difficult to do when doing something so engrossing.

Like the classifications of employment.

I mean those lists are long.

Kids have it so lucky nowadays. So many jobs to choose from and literally anything goes.

Now you can be weed controller, weight loss consultant, trolley collector, turf grower, trapper, slaughterer, sex worker, shelf filler, lion tamer and on and on. I looked for the drug trafficker but I think that's listed under medical professional..(ouch).

When I left school the choices seemed to be well........far less exotic........and there were probably more jobs come to think of it as well.......

Sign of the times

I saw this sign outside a Sports Club - you mean people need to be actually reminded about this?

Made in where?

Once upon a time we were being warned about fake designer goods. Well now it seems we should be aware that people are trying to fake Made in China goods. I bought something yesterday that was clearly a Made in China rip-off. Who'd have thought it!

Fancy a ride

I am loving these bikes that you can hire for short trips around the city. Only problem is that you need to carry a very large handbag to fit your helmet in. And to the person who suggested they hire helmets out as well....two words to you...YUK and NO...

You don't say

I visited this shop yesterday but burst out laughing and had to leave quickly.

I walked in and heard this guy say very loudly to his wife, "Jesus, it looks like a fairy threw up in here". His wife glared at him and almost dragged him out of the shop by his collar....personally, I thought he had a point.

Dear Mr Weather

It is Spring you know. I know you have a hard year but please a little sunshine never goes astray does it? Rain and Hail....(and of course it's a Mr...ever heard of females being so fickle?)

Stalking

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 11:11:00 +0000

Mark Zuckerberg has a lot to answer for........it's amazing how socially acceptable facebook stalking has become...

I found this image on someone's Facebook page, how else? No, of course I wasn't stalking, I was merely browsing.....go on hands up, who is guilty?

Sunday Life - blogging

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 14:01:00 +0000

As you may have noticed, Lilly's Life has a new look.

By accident though.

You now have to click on the post title to see the post in full and to see the comments.

You see I decided to get a bit serious about blogging again just as it's apparently going out of fashion. It seems that everyone is too busy facebooking and twittering to blog or read blogs these days.

Except me and maybe you too.

Anyway, in my efforts to makeover my blog, I clicked on a Blogger design template called Dynamic Views and .......abracadabra .....I got a little more than I bargained for.

I can't seem to get it back the way it was and I am not sure if I like it. So I'm kind of stuck with it.... just like my new hair cut...

I am hoping they both might grow on me.

Dynamic Views is apparently a unique browsing experience that makes it easier and faster for readers to explore blogs in interactive ways. You can use the Sidebar view, to preview the blog in different ways by using the view selection bar at the top left of the screen.

You might want to try out the new look on your own blog—read the official Blogger Buzz post for more info. Blogger says in the next few weeks we should be able to customise the templates which will be good because I kind of miss a few things I used to have ......including the rest of my hair.

Happy Sunday.

Do you want some neurotoxins with your greens?

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 22:37:00 +0000

Well you might just get them whether you like it or not.

We all know that fresh is best but when it comes to frozen vegetables, I've always been confident that the difference between the two in terms of their vitamins and mineral content is negligible.

However, my sister, bless her, just destroyed that fanciful notion.

Clearly I must be the last to know or was too busy eating rubbish to pay attention.

I was opening up a bag of frozen spinach a couple of nights ago when my sister rang. I told her what I was making and she asked me to look on the back of the packet and see where the spinach was produced.

It said, Made in New Zealand using local and imported products.

She then asked me the brand and I said McCains (founded in Canada, has 55 production facilities in 12 countries, and sells in 110 countries).

I felt kind of smug thinking how could the combination of McCains and NZ be wrong. It wasn't a no name brand after all.

She then told me to throw the bag in the bin.

As if.

When she uttered the words likely carcinogen I decided to rethink my dinner plans and ask a few more questions.

The fact is, I was not going to be eating New Zealand produce.

If you look at most frozen food packets (anywhere in the world) you have no real idea where the food comes from. It doesn't say. In most cases companies bring the product from China, repackage it, in this case New Zealand and then put it on our shelves with no testing required.

It gets to us via the back door because New Zealand has lax laws. And with no testing we do not know what we are really eating.

Unfortunately, China appears to have some very questionable growing practices. In fact you can google the horror stories slowly filtering out of China - vegetables being grown in human excrement and watermelons exploding after being sprayed with a growth accelerant. Even the Chinese middle class have started growing their own vegetables, because they don't trust the mass-produced produce.

So, if the Chinese won’t eat the food why are we?

A recent study done by the National Toxics Network tested bags of frozen vegetables from McCains, Heinz and Birdseye, plus Coles and Woolworths home brands. Most were imported from China or New Zealand, and a few were Australian home-grown.

Twenty percent of them came up positive for four nasty chemicals.

The four chemicals found in the vegetables are all pesticides that have been banned.

The worst chemical found was procymidone in the McCain’s Winter Vegetables - a product made in New Zealand from local and imported products.

This chemical has been shown to cause birth defects. The regulator recently updated label instructions to make sure that pregnant women, or women of child-bearing age, don’t come into contact with the chemical. They’re worried about the fact that it can actually stay in the food.

Even more worrying is the fact parathion methyl, an organophosphate, was also found in the same bag of vegetables. It was banned in Australia from July this year, with a two year phase out.

The fact that parathion methyl was found in the same food with the procymidone is concerning because with food residues it’s not necessarily an additive effect - one plus one doesn’t necessarily equal two. Here one plus one can equal ten.

In the Heinz chopped spinach, clearly marked as a product of China, omethoate was found – it’s an organophosphate and is under investigation here.

That’s an extremely dangerous group of chemicals that work by poisoning the nervous system.

The chemical Permethrin was also found on an Australian product Birdseye Broccoli Florets. Permethrin is a neurotoxin. The US Protection Agency has said it’s a likely carcinogen. It’s also turning up on the international list for concern on hormone disruption - its toxic effects are more profound in children than in adults.

Both McCains and Heinz have left Australia for New Zealand. In fact the only processor of frozen vegetables left in Australia is Simplot - they make Birdseye products. So why have they all left?

Apparently in order to remain competitive their production facilities have to move overseas. Many of the Woolworths Home Brand and Select labels and Coles Smart Buy products are all clearly from China.

At the end of the day these foods are coming onto the Australian dinner tables and people just like me do not even give it a second thought. It's probably safe to eat poison in small quantities right? I am sure that is what these companies and even the regulators would tell us.

Going to the supermarket and buying anything is a leap of faith these days.

In fact it's a lucky dip.

I better work on extending that vegetable garden and putting into practice everything my parents and grandparents have been preaching for years (and out of convenience and supposed lack of time, I ignore) - join the slow food movement and stick to eating food grown in your own local community or better still in your own backyard because at least you know how its grown and that it is actually food.

What do you think? Are you careful about where you buy your food from? Love to hear your thoughts as this is a problem which affects us all and not just contained to frozen foods.

Have you seen Food Inc - well worth watching - you can see the trailer here.

Sunday Life - Sea Murals

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 13:48:00 +0000

My daughter sent me those photos on her Iphone today - she was visiting Melbourne Aquarium.

Looking at them made me want to go there and dive into the abyss and enjoy the enchanted underwater scenes myself, except for the fact there would bound to be a whale alert and all get rather awkward...

What great art nature makes!

So relaxing and a reminder that Summer is fast approaching.

I hope you had a relaxing Sunday, doing whatever it is that makes you happy.

Come back and visit on Tuesday to find out what my sister told me about frozen vegetables just when I was opening a packet of frozen spinach this evening (she always had unfortunate timing)...yes, another opinion post and something we all should be aware of now most of our food is produced in foreign countries ie China. I won't be going near a packet of frozen vegetables in a hurry without some careful reading. Or I might just expand my vegetable garden instead. Love to hear your thoughts and what you know as well.

This is my opinion, what’s yours?

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 04:43:00 +0000

For as long as I can remember I have hated drugs.

Hard core illegal ones, legally prescribed ones and even the more innocuous ‘over the counter’ ones.

We all see the ravages of drug abuse and if you live in an inner city area like me, you are reminded of this daily. I get off the tram on occasion and see police searching people looking for drugs or paramedics tending to an injured person lying in the gutter. No, it's not really palatable but it's a fact even in this most liveable city in the world.

However, while illegal drugs are one thing it's the legally prescribed drugs and their abuse that terrifies me the most.

My fear of prescribed medication started when I was about 10 and my grandmother was given some new pills by a doctor who was filling in for her regular practitioner. After she took the pills for a couple of days she started to hallucinate and shake uncontrollably and had to be hospitalised. The doctor had given her the wrong medication.

It scared the hell out of me.

So much so it takes a lot tooing and froing for me to take anything whether it is a cold tablet or something stronger. It is a last resort only.

For ten years I saw my father take a cocktail of drugs, one pill after another, mostly prescribed to counteract the side effects of an earlier prescribed drug.

But just like my grandmother and my father thought, the medical profession knows best. Right?

I wonder. I really do.

A couple of years ago my sister was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease at way too young an age. We have recently learnt that she acquired this disease as a direct result of the prolonged use of another prescribed drug she has taken for another illness she has. Just bad luck the doctor said. Was she warned ever? No, but maybe there was a warning on the small print somewhere.

Then in the last 12 months the young adult son of one of my friends became addicted to his prescribed drugs and developed horrific side effects. He was feeling anxious so his doctor’s immediate course of action was to prescribe antidepressants, anxiety drugs and sleeping tablets. One of the side effects of one of the drugs, which no doubt was written in small print on the leaflet, was that he may suffer from addictions. Well sure enough he was one of the unlucky few that, as a direct result of taking this drug, he became addicted not only to the drugs but also to gambling and alcohol and goodness knows what else. He had absolutely no prior history of addiction. It took a long time to establish and then accept the link between the drug and his other addictions. And then an even longer time to try and get him off the drugs that he had become addicted to and to start treating the real causes of his anxiety.

I could go on with horrific examples just like these as they are littered everywhere. And I mean everywhere. But somehow the side effects and damage from taking legally prescribed drugs is more palatable for some reason. How bad could they be when we are taking them for our health and well being. Right?

Of course it goes without saying that there are a lot of people who have to take medication in order to live quality lives or in fact, live a life. I get that.

However, there are a lot of people who take medication to either mask symptoms with no real regard for the primary causes of their illnesses or those whose quality of life completely diminishes.

Yesterday I watched a documentary called Cut, Poison, Burn which has just reignited my loathing for drugs and drug companies even more so.

It clearly outlines many reasons for the MASSIVE failure on the war on cancer. The film follows the struggles of Jim and Donna Navarro, whose young son is diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. The conventional treatment methods, which included potent chemotherapy drugs and radiation, offered virtually no hope. Even if their son survived the treatment, side effects included hearing loss, brain damage, cumulative reduction in IQ and other cancers, just to name a few.

Cut, Poison, Burn is available for viewing on Vimeo for free only up until September 24 and I have posted it below. Given two out of three women and one out of two men will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their lives, it is relevant to us all.

I know that when we get sick we often don’t get a choice in our health care for many reasons but we need to be as informed and educated as we can about what we are being prescribed and our treatment. It’s scary, not palatable, not nice and easier to bury our heads in the sand sometimes but quality of life is incredibly precious and worth fighting for wouldn’t you say?

Our health or our lack of health results in BIG BUSINESS for some. Could keeping people sick be more profitable then keeping us well? Unfortunately, I think so.

What do you think?

Cut Poison Burn from Nehst Studios.

Web Cam 101 for Seniors

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 13:21:00 +0000

Just adorable!

Elderly Oregon couple Bruce and Esther Huffman (both 86) were trying to figure out how to take a photo using their laptop last month, not realising they were actually recording their endearing attempts to use technology.

Their grand daughter found this as put it on You Tube and it has spread like wildfire.

The pair said they are pleasantly surprised at their new found fame.

While the couple are still grappling with technology, Esther says she has learnt one thing - to stop chewing gum.

"I guess I have to quit chewing gum. I look like a cow chewing gum so quickly."

Warning, a whole weeks post in one....

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 11:45:00 +0000

I am an all or nothing kind of blogger it seems....so you might want to come back and visit a few times to read them all....or just read one or two....

Designated driver

Yes I know your kids, step kids, grand kids, nieces and nephews are clever but are they this clever? I was fascinated to see this video of a cute 4 year old Chinese girl apparently driving in traffic in Shandong Province while her parents are in the car.

In the video, posted on YouTube, the child can be seen calmly overtaking other cars. After a couple of minutes her father is heard apparently saying: “Jia Zheng, stop the car. Let daddy drive.”

Once the car is pulled over, the man gets out, walks around to the driver’s side and gets behind the wheel as the girl moves onto the back seat.

He is seen removing some sort of implement from the driver’s foot that appears to have been used by the girl to operate the pedals.

I am not sure whether it’s a fake or not but its a little bit risky given China’s one child policy isn’t it? It’s not like they have a spare...if something goes pear shaped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edward Scissorhands....


Is as bald as a badger...I kid you not...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I saw the light

and unfortunately not much else.

Recently I had to change my licence and car registration to a new State and only had one day left to do it because I’ve been travelling and was running out of time. Unfortunately to make matters worse this was also the day that I was expecting furniture to be delivered to my house.

As I could not be home when the removalists came my daughter’s lovely boyfriend volunteered to be there to let them in.

Sweet, right? All easy.

When I left home it was pouring rain. I arrived at the Motor Registry in plenty of time for my appointment. I took a ticket and went to sit down. My mobile rang. It was the removalist.

“Where are you”, he growled, “no-one is answering your door.” I said, “My daughter’s boyfriend is there so keep pressing the intercom and yell loudly as he might be listening to music or the TV and can’t hear you. I will try and contact him by phone as well”.

I tried. Nothing, Nada. Oh, great!

Meanwhile, my name is called out and I walk up to the counter only to be greeted by Mrs, I hate my job so I am going to make you suffer”. For expediencies sake I will just refer to her as Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP from hereon in.

“Have you got your number plates?” she barked at me. “Yes, I have”, I calmly reply,“they are still on the car. Do you want me to take them off now?” ” Yes”, she said. “NOW”. So I go out in the pouring rain, get my screw driver out of the car (like everyone has one in their car right?) and try and get the plates off.

My phone rang as I was in the middle of it. It was the now very disgruntled removalist telling me that he could not make any contact with my daughter’s now totally irresponsible, deaf boyfriend. He said he was going to wait another 10 minutes and then would have to leave and I would have to make other arrangements.

After futile attempts to contact my daughter (who was in meetings) and her boyfriend (who was god knows where), I ran back into the registry office. Dripping wet but with the plates in hand.

Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP called me over. I handed her the number plates and she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have told you that before I can process the registration we need to check the chassis number of your car. Now to do that we need you to jump through six million more hoops. So, how about you go and get your car and drive up the hill and round and round in circles until you find the depot where one of my colleagues will check the engine". I pointed out that she only had to look at my previous registration papers to see the number. She glared at me and said through gritted teeth, “No, that is not the way we do it here. We need to check the number and it will cost you an extra $40 for us to do this.”

“Right.” I said. And off I run out in the pouring rain again like some stupid competitor in the latest reality show, Red Tape Survivor.

On the way I rang the removalist. A development. My daughter’s boyfriend managed to wake up after falling asleep on the couch. Just in time. Bravo!

I drove up the hill and pulled up sharply at the pit stop just avoiding the toes of Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP’s colleague. “Open the bonnet”, he yells over the pouring rain. He stuck his head under the bonnet for two seconds, got what he needed and yelled, “Fine, you can go back to the car park now.” Jesus, Mother Mary and Joseph. And that was a prayer folks not blasphemy.

I parked the car and ran into the Motor Registry. Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP looked over at me in a rather sad, pitying way and said, “Aww, you’re soaking wet now. That’s a shame because now we have to take your licence photo”.

My hair was stuck to my head like glue. Just beautiful.

"Smile", she said. “I am trying”, I replied.

The photoshoot finished and I made a promise to myself that I will bury that licence in my wallet and never let it see the light of day. Even if the cops stop me I will just hand over my wallet and tell them to find it for themselves because I am never going to look at that photo. Ever.

Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP then announced that I needed an eye test. “Read the third line please”, she said pointing to the chart behind her.

I was seriously lucky even to see the chart behind her let alone the third line. It was a complete blur. And I do not even wear glasses.

Mrs IHMJAIAGTMYP’s day was improving as mine got worse. I could swear she was enjoying the moment. “Well, unfortunately”, she said, “if you can’t read it properly you are not going to get your licence today you realise that, don’t you? And, if you can’t get your licence today you are not driving anywhere as you have no licence.”

Of course her voice, like a megaphone, bounced off all four walls making sure that every other person in the vicinity all knew that they had a blind person in their midst.

“OK, last chance” she said, “come up to this chart as it has a light shining on it and that might help you”. I started reading out the letters and clearly got one wrong. “Are you sure that’s an X?, she said. No, I am bloody not I thought. So I went through every letter of the alphabet until I got the right one and she finally......let me have my new licence.

Yes it was humiliating but not for a blind person who was not even aware of their disability.

I went to get my eyes checked the next day. There was nothing wrong with them. Stress perhaps? Non waterproof mascara maybe?

And thank goodness I don’t have to do that again for another five years....because next time I am hiring a 4 year old Chinese girl to take my place.

I just cannot do red tape, truly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was walking in the mall yesterday and overheard a teenage girl saying, “Mum won’t let me go. She's such a bitch now all the time. She reckons it’s because of menopause or something. Honest, she needs to be locked up until she gets over it and she’s back to normal. “ I didn’t really want to burst her bubble and tell her that it might take years for that to happen....just like adolescence ha ha!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wise words

Melbourne graffiti spotted today: "Fight Apathy.. Or don't.. Whatever..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

And to Lisleman, you bet it's Spring over here and our turn to have the sunshine.

Who knew?

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 12:52:00 +0000

That Edward Scissorhands lives up the street from me.

The jury is out whether this is some drug induced extreme gardening frenzy (which in my neighbourhood is unfortunately the first thing that comes to mind and the subject of my next post) or someone with too much time and come to think of it, too many hands.

I'll be watching who comes out that front door though......what does the garden say about them I wonder?

Rolling, rolling, rolling

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 12:16:00 +0000

I have so much to tell you but it's so very rude to speak with your mouth full.

Heavenly or what?

Drawing the short straw....

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 00:43:00 +0000

It happens to the best of us sometimes...

This picture was sent to me by a friend. Hope it makes you smile too.

Have a fantastic weekend wherever you are.

It's a surprising and welcome sunny Saturday morning here in Melbourne - it's the middle of winter with a top expected of 14°F (57°F). An attractive view of blue skies & a not very attractive view of sprawling suburbia from my balcony. I'll enjoy the day as rain is expected tomorrow.

There's colour in winter

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 07:11:00 +0000

Oh Melbourne, your winter days start off so cold and grey.

but as the day goes on, you start to thaw out.

One of Melbourne's many gorgeous old Arcades. And it's Sale time.
It's always sale time.

The pavement outside the arcade

I have to pass this every day - its cruel I tell you

Lunch

Melbourne has the best buskers. What a character this busker is
He never disappoints.

I saw these same guys busking in Stuttgart, Germany
a few years ago. Small world.

Hot pink and orange my favourite colour combination

Legomen, who can resist?

Even the post office dresses up here

Oh what courage - I love the hair.
It's a work of art.

So by the end of the day, you really do look like a different city.

.
I really love you Melbourne.

Vibrant. Colourful. Easy on the eye.

And so damn delicious

that I can just about forgive you for this freezing weather.....

or at least .......until early tomorrow morning, anyway.

Free speech, apples, swearing and Ukraine love

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 22:37:00 +0000

Life can get ridiculous at times. Here are some snippets from mine, just to round the week out.

Core blimey!

Last night while out at dinner my sister in law was telling us about her first time visit to an Apple store to buy an ipad for my brother. Everyone else at the table soon joined in waxing lyrical about the genius of Apple designs, their marketing and their OTT customer service. My daughter reminisced how she learnt to touch type on my first Mac when she was 5 and said she really wanted the latest ipad too.

Well, be careful what you wish for.

Early this morning she got a phone call from her bank. Someone had bought an ipad at the Apple store in London (about 1.30am our time), an Iphone from the 3 store and then tried to make a purchase of a computer using her obviously swiped credit card details.

Good job the Bank was on the ball but someone is running round with some ill gotten gains - a couple of shiny new apples.

I think it’s turned her off Apple ownership for the moment. Forbidden fruit and all that...

For F.. .ks Sake

Last Saturday I was walking in the inner city searching for an out of the way book shop. These days finding a book shop is like searching for a needle in a haystack isn't it?

I was preoccupied looking at the buildings on the opposite side of the road trying to find street numbers.

I started walking across the road and suddenly I could hear a roar of voices coming towards me followed by a crowd of people waving Free Speech banners in the air.

Somehow I managed to get entangled in a public demonstration about proposed new legislation against swearing. As you do.

The most confronting thing though was their loud and angry chant.

F**K, F**K, F**K they screamed. Over and over.

I pushed my way through the crowd trying to reach the other side of the road in one piece. All the while thinking to myself, grrr, you people have taken the words right out of my mouth.

So, what could I do but join in.

Therapeutic, this freedom of speech thing is, I tell you. Like some kind of primal therapy.

The cloak of invisibility - does it exist?

Apparently there is an age where we females become invisible to the opposite sex. It’s 46 if you must know.

No, I haven’t made this up it’s supposedly a real research outcome which I will tell you about next week.

However, there are always exceptions to the rule.

Yesterday, my friend Marie was thrilled when she got wolf-whistled when passing a building site.

She took off her sunglasses and turned around to see whether the whistler in question might have been wearing coke bottle glasses.

The young guy looked at her, took his hard hat off and said very apologetically, Oh I am so sorry, Ma’am.

She looks younger from the back it seems. She was a tad disappointed.

Doesn't she know that a smart woman never looks behind or was that never leaves a man behind. Oh I forget now...

However, she will be walking everywhere from now on, guaranteed. She looks pretty hot in any direction. I would have posted a photo but she wouldn't be in it - supposedly she really doesn't like that much attention. Who knew?

Invisible and Stupid?

I was evaluating some beauty consultants for a makeup house last week. Unbeknownst to them, of course.

I had to go to two large department stores next door to each other and visit consultants from the same brand.

Consultant number 1 applied some foundation to my face and told me that it was the perfect colour, just beautiful, yade yade yade.

I then visited the next department store and saw Consultant no 2.

No 2 takes one look at the foundation applied by No 1 and says, “Oh no, that makeup you have on is not right for you”.

She has the perfect product, she says. Why, of course she would.

Out comes the exact same product and the same colour as No 1 used.

Then applied in the exact same way on the exact same face.

She told me it looked amazing, so different, yade, yade, yade.

Yeah great big tick, they ~~lie~~ sell really well.

And the makeup industry continues to thrive and grow exponentially…...wonder why…

And finally,.....

No matter what ridiculous things happen in my daily life I will always have this to cling on to……I have a Ukraine friendly blog.

The largest contiguous country in Europe (have no idea what that means but it sounds impressive right?) hits on me more than any other country in the world.

Maybe they think from the way I write that English is my second language too.

Didn’t you ever want to be a tiny bit big in the Ukraine…yes I thought so…but

Budmo!!!!!

Thank goodness for free speech and a little Ukrainian attention....life sustaining ridiculous moments in an otherwise topsy turvy world.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Mother in Law from Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 07:36:00 +0000

I've been thinking a lot about being a mother in law and wondering why some of us become meddling, judgemental, critical, interfering cows when suddenly our children choose their life partner and get on with their own lives.

I am not quite one yet but practising…being a mother in law that is, not necessarily an interfering old cow.

I am trying to be supportive but distant.

I never had mother in law problems just because both (yes twice) of mine had already left this mortal coil by the time I came on the scene so it was pretty much a MIL free zone for me.

And, as for father in laws, well they are never any trouble are they?
I wonder why that is. You never hear of father in law jokes do you???

I think many women become more of a MIL from hell with their son's partners as opposed their daughters. Am I imagining that?

I recall my father’s mother telling me horrific stories about her mother in law. For instance, when my grandmother's mother in law came to her kitchen tea (do they still have those things?) just before her marriage she gave her a beautiful fine bone china dinnerset. However, when the party finished her MIL picked up the present and took it with her. It was all for show. Their relationship never improved her whole married life. Her MIL just didn't think she was good enough for her blonde, blue eyed boy.

The sad part of that story is that my grandmother treated my mother, the wife of her own blonde haired blue eyed son, in a similar way but could never see it at all. A beautiful grandmother and mother but for some reason a problematic mother in law who had to have the attention of her son as often as she could.

Then a friend told me this week that after 15 years of arguments with her mother in law she had made the decision to cut her off completely. She said that her mother in law had tried to cause so much trouble between her husband and herself that they both thought it best to remove themselves from the pressure of never meeting her expectations. They didn’t make this decision lightly but after years of constant conflict and of making no headway with her.

Kind of sad for everyone involved really. What makes some women who seem perfectly lovely people want to become so entwined in their grown children's lives that they create such havoc to the point they are ostracised and cut off from those they love the most?

Do MILs from hell really exist the world over and why? You know my future son in law will appreciate the advice I am sure....

An orangutan saves a duck chick

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 14:13:00 +0000

At Dublin Zoo

Way too cute!

Although I hope at the end it was mouth to mouth he was administering and not sizing him up for dinner.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Dear Melbourne Dentists

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 01:30:00 +0000

Wherefore art thou?

Well the normal ones anyway.

The fact my last blog post was about chocolate and this one is about dentists is purely co-incidental and not in any way connected.

Although, if I'm to be perfectly honest, the frustrations felt over one might be driving me to do the other..... in some kind of dentist enraged excess.

As you know when you move cities you have to find new hairdressers, shoe shops, chocolate shops, gyms, doctors and dentists pretty much in that order. Yes, that order.

I am still working on the last one. Finding a good dentist.

It shouldn't be hard in a city of 4 million. Right?

Well the fact is, there is something seriously wrong with dentists these days. I am just going to put that out there hanging in the breeze.

And this is coming from someone whose last dentist Heidi, was a little on the unusual side given she is a plastic surgery junkie. You can read about her here and here because bless her, she is well worth discovering.

My search for a new dentist started in my local neighbourhood.

I made an appointment, filled out the 24 page questionnaire and 40 minutes later was sitting in the dentist's chair. I cannot tell you what the dentist looked like as his 24-carot ultra white smile blinded me.

All I know is, apart from his perfect pearly whites, everything in his office was the palest of blue. Walls, chairs, uniform, eyes and even possibly his hair. One hour later, I felt like I had just been a part of "the fast food shuffle". No, he didn’t offer me fries but ol' blue eyes sure was keen to upsell, cross sell and oversell in order to get me to commit to a full mouth makeover.

What's more, he promised to give me "a winning grin". Is everyone morphing into Charlie Sheen? Winning?

There was nothing wrong with my teeth before I visited him but I came out with my hand clasped over my mouth, full of shame. A broken smile. A psychologist has now been added to the bottom of my list.

All I wanted was a check up and clean. If I had wanted to look like the woman above I would have asked.

I then found an Holistic Dentist. Very promising I thought.

That find resulted in a dental consultation in which I never even had to open my mouth. The dentist talked at me the whole time and my mouth remained closed. An most unlikely scenario for anyone visiting a dentist and, as you know by now, hell nigh impossible for me to achieve.

He told me I needed $1500 of tests to determine what might be impacting on my dental health and when he had the test results he would look at my teeth. Why I needed to get x-rays and other assorted tests for every part of my body supposedly linked to my teeth is beyond me.

Right. $99 without opening my mouth. Holistic dentists are now crossed off the list.

I realise that dentists have had to drastically change their business plans over the years because people have far less cavities and have far more interest in looking 'perfect'. However, it's gone a few steps too far.

I don’t need to use my teeth to see in the dark or to grace the pages of any fashion magazines. I just want to be healthy. Healthy teeth, healthy gums, happy smile.

In fact, I really just need strong teeth to chew 'real food' but, if this keeps up, I will be using them to BITE… some poor unsuspecting professional in a white coat.

Very. Very. Hard.

Is it really too much to ask for??

Image: Stolen off the web to show you what a "winning smile" apparently looks like... as if..

Meet me at....

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 11:41:00 +0000

I would love to stay and chat but I'm kind of preoccupied.....

Did I tell you I live right round the corner from a chocolate factory?

The neighbourhood is growing on me. Literally.

So I walk. Everywhere.

Chocolate and Walking.

It's what I call a balanced life.

Yeah, just humor me, you know you can do it...

Have a great weekend everyone!!!

You have to smile..

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 00:32:00 +0000

Image: Luna Park, Melbourne - for the young and young at heart

I was on the phone today with an insurance company call centre and some way into the conversation I had to confirm my date of birth.

"Wow", said the person on the other end of the phone. "That's a real surprise, I wouldn't have guessed you were that old. You sound so young, like you're 30 or so".

So I am that old but sound that young?

Disturbing.

What does a 30 year old sound like anyway?

I mean compared to a 40 something or 50 something or 60 something person?

Alive?

Full of joie de vivre?

All giggly and girly?

Perhaps I should have mentioned to the 20 something person that I also obviously write as young as I sound.

My blog stats are telling me today that my most viewed post of all time (by far) is titled Sex on Moving Motor Cycles.

Well that was a surprise. Not. A. Proud. Blogging. Achievement. Really.

However it does make me smile. Widely.

It must be so disappointing when the Googlers get here looking for such critical advice and find instead a middle aged blogger who would be hard pressed to even get a leg up over a motorbike let alone point out the finer techniques required to achieve such mobile feats.

Maybe I need to start acting my age, whatever that means! But I wish people would quit thinking they compliment us (when we are in our 40s and over) by telling us we act younger, look younger and sound younger than we are. I, too, am guilty of doing the same thing to others and I am going to stop. That's why "growing young" becomes a fixation for us. It's an insult in some ways that our maturing age makes us 'less' somehow . I for one am happy to be where I am in life and want to go forwards not backwards! I think we need to hear more from bloggers in one of those countries where age is revered and not feared.

Tell me what is your most popular post of all time (see stats on blogger dashboard)? I will go read your post and put a link to it here. I wonder what it will say about the people searching for answers via Google?

Go visit my readers' blogs and check out which of their posts Google has loved the most!

Six Decades and Counting - Car Seats for Seniors - so very funny!

Gappa blog - Rukhwat Memories - beautiful post with a wedding theme and a profound message!!

I was just thinking blog - Another week nearly over - a post full of topical issues relevant across the world.

Middle Age Ramblings blog - There is no such place as far away - this post is a must read and a real gem and inspirational!!!

A Glimpse into Midlife - Meet me on Mondays - check out more about Betty and living in Paraguay.

A Few Clowns Short - Ken Burns PBS Series - educational post about the Civilian conservation Corps in the Depression - very interesting.

Over Cups of Coffee - My dream home - post about the author's dream home, great taste too.

Where are my Angels - We were 80s - post about all the things in the 80s that we did and kind of regret now, hilarious!!

Kirti's Take on Life - From paperless to on paper marriage - Kirti discusses her marriage in India and the lengths she had to go to in order to get paperwork to prove her marriage some 16 years later.

Gran speaks - Hijacked Facebook Meme - Are you a Mickey Mouse lover too?

Male Wanted

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sun, 29 May 2011 01:32:00 +0000

for what exact purpose, I am not entirely sure.

I saw this sign as I was walking past a store yesterday.

Someone is either giving online dating sites a miss and cutting out the middle guy

or

their English needs work and they are really looking for something quite different.

Maybe the first line should have read, Delivery Driver Wanted or maybe they really do prefer the direct approach.

Either way, I am sure the phone enquiries were very interesting.

And of course if you think you can deliver, well you know where to ring.....

What annoys you about flying?

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Tue, 24 May 2011 09:59:00 +0000

"Hell is other people." Jean-Paul Sartre

And apparently, for some of us, so it would seem.

I was at an Airport waiting to check-in a couple of weeks ago and overheard a woman say to her partner, “Oh please let's hope we are not sitting next to a lard ass or an annoying kid after that last trip".

Clearly she dislikes sharing the journey with both The Little and THE LARGE.

I smiled and secretly prayed that she would find herself on the same flight as the excited boy scout troop I had seen earlier or somewhat fortuitously, members of the Japanese Sumo Wrestling Team.
Leaving sumo sized passengers aside, how can anyone say anything mean about sharing the air space with children?

Well out loud, anyway.

Anyone who expects a child to happily sit in a sardine can for hours on end being tempted by airline food and amused by the onboard entertainment is totally deluded.

Almost as deluded as an Aunty who agreed to take her nieces from one end of the world to another without a second thought or at least a carefully crafted Disaster Recovery Plan (DRP).

It seems we forget the pain of childbirth first, then when we reach middle age we forget the pain of children full stop. What kind of grandparents would we hope to make otherwise I guess.......

Let me explain what happened to this Aunty. And that Niece.

Exhibit A - One little niece all set for flying. Sweet heh?

Exhibit B - An hour into the 14 hour flight one little niece is already exploring ways to get more comfortable and is apparently very thirsty. Fair enough heh? What's an Aunty to do but give one little niece lots of apple juice to keep her well hydrated.

Exhibit C - Eight hours in, one erratic little niece is now pulling faces at any passenger she locks eyes with - particularly the woman sitting in the seat behind us - who oddly enough was reciprocating with not only similar facial gestures but equally as expressive hand gestures. How was I to know that this one little niece was so sensitive to apple juice that I would have been better just to pour a 10kg bag of sugar down her throat to achieve the same disastrous effect.

I have to say by the end of that flight we both were ready to be committed. My niece on the other hand had finally just fallen asleep.

So ever since then, whenever I see children on board I look straight at the parent or caregiver and give them one of those 'knowing smiles'. I resist the urge to ask if I can sight their DRP and instead silently wish them all the luck in the world and hope for their sakes that there is something really mind numbing on the drinks menu.

As for me, I quickly put on my earphones and keep them on the entire flight. It's the best solution to most airborne toxic events.

So if its not screaming kids, then what annoys me about flying?

It isn’t really the in flight experience at all. I can put up with lack of leg room (Oh why is it some people like to recline their seats while they are eating almost forcing me to wear my meal), chatty neighbours (No, I really didn’t need to know about your horrific c-section before you even told me your name, no, really) and tiny bathrooms (I am terrified I will get locked in or worse that upon flushing I will somehow get sucked out of the plane’s jet).

But what really increases my blood pressure a tad is the whole airport experience. Checking in (now there are no people just machines doing the job and often they are not working causing huge waiting lines of angry people), the ever increasing security requirements (I swear they get you to keep taking bits of your clothing off for their own enjoyment not ours), Immigration and Customs (they are so slow, is it any wonder people illegally cross our boarders if they operate at that pace), getting your luggage off the carousel (what’s with the people almost sitting on the carousel to try and find their luggage first) and then trying to find your way out of the airport in one piece.

Flying, as opposed to life, really is about the destination and not the journey. And, fortunately for us, we are lucky to be able to fly to some great destinations even though some of the journeys getting there can be rather ho hum.

So tell me, does anything annoy you about flying?

Jane Fonda & Marlo Thomas

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Fri, 20 May 2011 23:30:00 +0000

This is a great interview to watch for anyone who has a spare 15 minutes or so.

It's inspirational to have some older females in the public eye for a change. At 73 Jane Fonda is truly beautiful and as she says, she is that way because of good genes and money. However, she also has so much more going for her and the more I listen to her the more impressed I am. Her philosophies are very positive for older women. She doesn't hide her age, her plastic surgery or her mistakes.

She also has a great blog and her busy schedule would be a challenge for someone half her age.

Her fitness levels must be as good as they were in her Jane Fonda Workout days.
I bought the book but just didn't get the body. Ah well she says in this interview that its never too late to start....again.

Stranger at the Football

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Fri, 20 May 2011 00:44:00 +0000

Echoing the words of Apollo 14 Astronaut Edgar Mitchell, "There are no unnatural or supernatural phenomena, only very large gaps in our knowledge of what is natural."

Further to my previous post.

On a cold Scottish day seven years ago I was sitting in a near empty hospitality venue of a large Football Stadium. With little interest in the football being played outside I was feeling decidedly bored and actively counting down the endless minutes until I could go home.

Little did I realise that I would soon be jolted out of my apathy by the strange words of a man I had never seen before.

As I was peering out of the large window, looking for clues on the appeal factor of grown men kicking a ball from one end of a snowy pitch to the other, I heard a male voice behind me make a funny comment about the crowds in the stands.

I turned around and responded with a laugh. I’d never seen him before.

He was middle aged, portly and had one of those kind gentle faces with the beautiful skin and ruddy cheeks that many lucky Scots seem to have.

After some small talk, he asked me if I would mind if he sat down beside me. He then told me not to be alarmed or think he “was some sort of kook” but he had a message for me from my grandmother and she was very keen that I pass on her “love to Margaret”.

I looked at him alarmingly. Oh yeah, he was indeed some kind of kook. Nonetheless, just to be sure, I asked him to repeat what he had just said.

One, because I was hoping that his thick Glaswegian accent may have confused me. Two, that he might be absolutely blotto, and three, he had picked the wrong person because both my grandmothers had been dead for at least five years and were buried 12,000 miles away in Australia.

He then said very slowly and very quietly, “Your grandmother Elizabeth, the one who wore her long hair in a bun with an ornate comb, wants me to pass on some messages to you. She is quite insistent that you pass on her love to Margaret because she is sick.”

At this point I feared my boredom levels had caused not only my eyes to glaze over but my mind to follow suit. If it was not enough that I was stuck inside a football stadium I now had to contend with a man who clearly had a few problems with a love of football not being the only one.

I turned around hoping I could attract the attention of the hospitality staff to see if they could rescue me from this lunatic but they were all busy putting jugs of beer and wine on tables.

He continued on and said that he did not want to scare me in anyway but he had just come to watch the football but my grandmother really wanted him to pass her messages on to me. He said, “she is a force to be reckoned with”.

Right, I thought, my dead grandmother is going to a Scottish premier league football game on a Saturday afternoon and starts nagging a complete stranger picked out of a crowd of thousands to come find me in a large football stadium and pass on her messages to me. Bloody. Likely. Not.

Of course I glossed over the fact he knew the names of my sister and grandmother and how she wore her hair and that my sister was very sick. Sure, my dad's mother was a force to be reckoned with and a real matriarch of her family but surely everyone’s grandmother is called Elizabeth, right?

He then asked me how my ankle was. Ten years earlier I had been in a bus crash and had hurt my ankle badly and still had problems but there are no obvious signs. I asked him how he knew about my ankle and he said my grandmother wanted to give me some proof that it really was her.

He went on to say that she wanted me to be careful of my charm bracelet as the clasp was loose and there was a danger it might fall off. The bracelet was significant to me because she had given it to me and I wore it all the time. Three days earlier it had fallen off and I was not wearing it that day.

He said my grandmother was laughing about the trouble I had with my door key but he was unsure what that meant. It was true. For some bizarre reason I had trouble opening or locking the front door of our house much to the annoyance of my then partner. He often had to get out of the car and lock the house because I could not do it properly. No other keys were problematic just the front door key. Apparently it was my grandmother’s hand at work.

And just to put the fear of God into me he also told me that there were two other spirits hanging around too. One was a man called Ferdinand and he was wearing an old bush hat and had a beard. As it turns out it was my father’s grandfather’s name, not a very typical Australian name that anyone might guess. And the other was a boy who he said “looks just like you”. Now that made me cry.

I was getting very uncomfortable.

Thankfully our conversation was soon interrupted by rowdy football supporters pouring into the room after the game. He said he still hadn’t told me everything and left his contact details in case “I wanted to know more”. He walked off and I closely watched him looking for signs of mental instability, drunkenness, wings on his back or a halo above his head.

Nothing. He looked like Mr Joe Average, football punter.

In the end I decided it was all too bizarre and I would not bother contacting him. I also decided not to tell anyone for fear of being accused of imbibing in too many gin and tonics or being a little crazy as well.

However, a week later, I changed my mind.

After mulling over our conversation for several days I decided I wanted to know what else he had to say. I paid him a visit at his bookshop and bought a friend along as a witness. He told me that he was born with the ability (or disability perhaps) to be able to communicate with people who have passed over (to where exactly I am not sure but I am hoping for my sake not football stadiums). He tried to explain it to me, several times. I did not understand it then and I do not understand or really want to understand it now.

He was the most unlikely looking clairvoyant, psychic, spiritualist or whatever the correct term is that I could ever possibly imagine.

He gave me a lot more information and then told me that my grandmother was crying about something that she was not happy about in my life and went on to say that she could see someone was not treating me well. It was a warning to me that I never understood fully at the time and unfortunately I wish I had taken what was said to me a bit more seriously.

I never saw this man again but did learn that he was quite well known for his psychic abilities in the UK.

When I eventually came back to Australia I had another chance meeting with a clairvoyant, another unlikely looking candidate, who explained that, my grandmother was my spirit guide. A guardian angel of sorts I guess. She too also gave me messages as well which still to this day are unravelling.

I cannot explain any of it but I do believe he was communicating with my grandmother and that she really was trying to look out for me. Now rather than try to understand it or make any sense of it I just accept anything is possible. In the same way that I accept football or anything else I don’t quite 'get'. It happens and some of us are into it and some of us aren’t and some of us have far more knowledge about it than others. It just is what it is.

And no, I have never been to a clairvoyant since because if my grandmother needs to find me she clearly will. She always was determined and never let anything get it in her way!

Heaven Sent

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Tue, 17 May 2011 05:42:00 +0000

In an interview with the Guardian, British scientist Stephen Hawking explained, "I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark."

An according to a poll of the Sydney Morning Herald, 79% of its readers agree with him.

What do you think?

I guess if you think of yourself as a machine, and not a spirit, it would be hard to believe that there is life after death.

I think 'believing' can be a pschycologically positive thing because it can keep some people on the straight and narrow and it offers some hope in a world where, historically, life has been pretty harsh.

As for me, I am an absolute believer in the afterlife.

This belief was firmly cemented not necessarily by religious beliefs but because of a chance meeting with a stranger in a foreign country about 7 years ago. At the risk of being branded ‘odder” than you may already think I am, I will post about it soon. It was intriguing, unsettling and comforting all at the same time.

As for Heaven, well.....all I can say is .....

If there is no Heaven, how does Hawking explain George Clooney, Armedi Italian chocolate and the iPad?

Yeah, thought as much.

Note: The writer wants to be up front about the fact she is also is a firm believer in fairytales and that hope springs eternal.

Chauvanism is still alive and well

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Sat, 14 May 2011 07:58:00 +0000

down under anyway.

Yesterday I mentioned to a male neighbour that I was applying to do some work at a nearby University.

He looked at me somewhat surprised and said, "What kind of work would you be doing there?

Before I could answer he said, "Flower arranging or something like that?"

I laughed at him - thinking he must be joking.

Alas, he wasn't.

I am off to hang my MBA on the front door and go arrange some flowers. Clearly my skills in this area are far more professional then I gave myself credit for and sure to get me noticed in all the wrong places.

A Flower Arranger.
Bloody idiot!

Tell me do you ever still experience attitudes like this? Personally I think its worse the older you get. Apparently once you are middleaged you also lose your brain and are limited as to what jobs you can do.

Photo: Flowers in Hong Kong and no, I had nothing to do with their arranging....just took the photo....really.

East Meets West

noreply@blogger.com (Lilly) — Thu, 12 May 2011 04:26:00 +0000

(I am reposting this as the original post disappeared along with comments during Blogger maintenance for some bizarre reason.)

I always thought of Hong Kong as a stop over destination to break that long 24 hour flight between Australia and Europe. I knew that I would eventually get around to visiting it one day but it has just never been on my Top 10 list of places to visit.

Well thanks to Virgin I finally made the trip and I loved it and wish I had done it much sooner.

Hong Kong has far more to offer than I ever could have imagined. And, as Arnie says, I'll be b-a-c-k (although I guess Maria is hoping he doesn't really mean that).

Hong Kong, as every travel guide will tell you, is a place where East meets West.(The UK only handed it back to China in 1997 after 156 years of British rule).

It really does balance a modern way of life with traditional Chinese practices. When I was sitting in a café one day I took this picture which in many ways reflects these differences - the old and new.

Hong Kong is also one of the most densely populated areas in the world and as a result is the world’s most vertical city. Looking out of the hotel room I was overwhelmed by the myriad of apartment buildings in every direction. Thankfully, Hong Kong also has one of the most amazing transport systems I have ever seen which easily gets these millions of people around.

While there is so much to see and do, the biggest surprise for me was the beautiful landscape, the amazing harbour and the surrounding islands. There is a lot of greenery, even in the city centre which is something I did not expect at all.

Hong Kong Island is dominated by steep, hilly terrain, which makes it the home of some rather unusual methods of transport up and down the slopes. And I think I got conned into taking every one of them, except perhaps for a donkey.

Although, as it happened, I ended up being a bit of an ass myself when my daughter persuaded me to take the Stairway to Urban Heaven as she likes to describe it. It is actually the biggest outdoor covered escalator in the world and carries 55,000 people up and down the vertical climb of 135 metres each day (20 escalators and three moving sidewalks).

“We have to take it right to the top", she said, "and then every 40 minutes it reverses so then we can come down again”.

She was wrong. So. Very. Wrong.

The escalator only comes down for the first two hours of the day to allow people to go to work. For the rest of the day it goes up. So I had a lot of stairs to walk down and that is why you are going to get to see so many lovely pictures of Hong Kong from greater heights. I took my time…. As it happened it was no real hardship, not that I told her that, given the many restaurants, bars, and shops lining the route down.

Oh and here we are, I was smiling but I was actually deciding how to throw her over the railing without anyone noticing…...until I got distracted by the amazing views.

The views over central Hong Kong, Victoria Harbour and the surrounding islands are just gorgeous (and well worth millions of steps). I think Hong Kong even beats NYC for the most impressive city skyline. Now that is really saying something!

I also want to give a shout out to everyone at EAST the most amazing hotel in which we stayed. Fabulous in every sense of the word. Hi-tech rooms, perfect for business travellers or holiday makers alike. The Service was just ‘right’ without being over the top and annoying like so many hotels are nowadays. It’s a fine line. The food at FEAST was amazing (the handmade chocolate divine). The Rooftop bar, Sugar, had the most incredible harbour views! The Gym called BEAST (Body by East) was excellent or so I am told! I could not fault a thing. I will be staying here again and cannot recommend it highly enough!! Anyone visiting Hong Kong, GO EAST!