Finally saw Pirates of the Caribbean 3. It was rubbish - and I love a good pirate movie so I was disappointed. Even Johnny Sparrow was uninteresting and I love him. But then right until the very end, Orlando Bloom dresses as a baddie, Hellllooo!
Never seen it in him before. Too girly/foppish for my taste. But put the lad in a black mutton sleeve shirt and a saucy bandana. Oh my.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Going public
So something weird is happening. After all these months of semi-private rantings and mumblings, I googled starbhanta and lo and behold there is my blog.! A somewhat specific google I know, but still, I was secure in my little 'only friends and family' world (funny how you list friends before family there isnt it? seems a little illogical or disrespectful somehow). ANYWAY, now I feel all exposed and open to scrutiny. Possibly by those who feature regularly. Until now I've avoided releasing the url, but an unfortunate linking of blogs resulted in general release recently - so who knows WHAT they've seen. I do know lovely Amy, the only person to get a real namecheck was moderately offended by me referring to her as 'way way older than me'. But in my defense I believe she said it first. And anyway, when you get to be this old, every month is a blessing, so more than a year IS way way older. So I guess I'll have to be more careful now. That's in addition to hoping that the people I've now warmed up to dont backtrack and see the nasty names I called them 9 months ago. OR I could just carry on hurting feelings and making enemies for the rest of my life, which is MUCH more fun for sure. Decision made.
So back to me me me. I notice I have an American pattern of phrasing slipping into my language more and more. I also am looking at the word 'defense' above and wondering if this is the correct spelling. If so, where is it correct? Here or there? It's very confusing. I also notice that I am becoming just a little Alice in Wonderland with these thoughts. I suspect the new esspresso machine (baby blue, very pretty) may be the culprit. 40+ people should not drink coffee after 6pm. It should be a law. It's now almost 1 am and I'm still sat here rambling. I'll need a latte to get me moving tomorrow, then I'll hit caffeine slump at 2 and will need another, then I'll be so awake at 7pm I'll think - oh yes, esspresso, what a good idea and then the whole vicious circle will start again. I'm now beginning to understand the whole addiction chain, which to be honest, despite my 40-a-day habit in my late teens, I never really got. It's very clever you know. I wonder can you buy shares in Starbucks and illy? I must look into that when I stop spending my money on baby blue coffee machines and the like and have something to invest in my old age.
There's another point on the fear of everything front. I've started worrying about my old age. Not that I worry too much about being old - quite looking forward to it in some ways. Shoving into queues, bad manners, and comfy shoes - right up my street. I'm a tad worried about how I'll cope being skint - because I will be skint (see baby blue coffee machine above!) I hope my sisters - who love and cherish me dearly, continue to be married to frugal and sensible husbands and take pity on me. (I married Peter Pan so I've already written off being rescued by him). Maybe if I send them really expensive christmas gifts every year...
So back to me me me. I notice I have an American pattern of phrasing slipping into my language more and more. I also am looking at the word 'defense' above and wondering if this is the correct spelling. If so, where is it correct? Here or there? It's very confusing. I also notice that I am becoming just a little Alice in Wonderland with these thoughts. I suspect the new esspresso machine (baby blue, very pretty) may be the culprit. 40+ people should not drink coffee after 6pm. It should be a law. It's now almost 1 am and I'm still sat here rambling. I'll need a latte to get me moving tomorrow, then I'll hit caffeine slump at 2 and will need another, then I'll be so awake at 7pm I'll think - oh yes, esspresso, what a good idea and then the whole vicious circle will start again. I'm now beginning to understand the whole addiction chain, which to be honest, despite my 40-a-day habit in my late teens, I never really got. It's very clever you know. I wonder can you buy shares in Starbucks and illy? I must look into that when I stop spending my money on baby blue coffee machines and the like and have something to invest in my old age.
There's another point on the fear of everything front. I've started worrying about my old age. Not that I worry too much about being old - quite looking forward to it in some ways. Shoving into queues, bad manners, and comfy shoes - right up my street. I'm a tad worried about how I'll cope being skint - because I will be skint (see baby blue coffee machine above!) I hope my sisters - who love and cherish me dearly, continue to be married to frugal and sensible husbands and take pity on me. (I married Peter Pan so I've already written off being rescued by him). Maybe if I send them really expensive christmas gifts every year...
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Continents week
Every year, the kid's school picks a continent, each class picks a country and projects ensue. On the Friday, there is an open day, the kids get passports and traipse from country to country (class to class) doing crafts, sampling local foods, etc etc. It's great fund. Parent of course are roped in left right and centre. This year it was Europe. There was of course a 'Scotland' room. Husband of course, at the drop of a hat dons his kilt. He LOVES the attention, all the moms giving it 'oooh dont you look great', 'is it true what they say?' etc etc etc. He did say it was a less frightening experience than your usual Scottish wedding / Hogmany with drunken aunties tugging at his pleats, trying to sneak a peek.
His highlight came late in the day though. He's stood there in the classroom,in full regalia- kilt, socks, jacket, waiscoat, sporran - the lot. Munching shortbread, spouting forth about the lochs and glens, generally holding court in his best Sean Connery accent. 'Oh I know' says one mom 'it sounds lovely. Tell me, have you ever been to Scotland?'
His highlight came late in the day though. He's stood there in the classroom,in full regalia- kilt, socks, jacket, waiscoat, sporran - the lot. Munching shortbread, spouting forth about the lochs and glens, generally holding court in his best Sean Connery accent. 'Oh I know' says one mom 'it sounds lovely. Tell me, have you ever been to Scotland?'
Soft southern ways
Another month has passed without a blog entry. Just been so darned busy. Right after Thanksgiving, (we went to the lighthouse again, I feel a tradition in the making) we were off to Maui. Which was great. We have all become totally soft and just two days of rain is enough to send me into S.A.D. mode. And of course now it feels cold to us in California. When we came here to find a house in February 06 everyone on the beach was in duffle coats and big russian hats. We were in tshirts and jeans and laughing at how soft they all were. Now, I'm the cold rife at work every day and have just gone out and bought 2 pairs of wooly tights!! Saying that though, it is December and wooly tights and a denim jacket would NOT have kept me warm in Aberfoyle in December, for sure!
Anyhow, Maui. I had good intentions and made a list of noteworthy thoughts. As usual the list in itself is more entertaining than my usual ramblings. Explanations where the note still means something to me -(note to self: must make better notes).
MAUI - RAIN?
BURNT MEN/SPF MACHISMO
NAZI IN GOLF CART
A jobsworth security guard insisted we get out of the hot tub because the kids were under 12 years old. (lots of old folk in the complex). I tried to argue since there was no-one else in the pool area. He insisted, calling me 'ma am' in the process (which is always offensive to me for some reason). His reasons were a) its a house rule. I argued that wisdom of that one b) it's bad for their health - its too hot . I argued that the hot tub at home was 5 degrees hotter c) they wee in the tub. - to which I became a grossly offended Princess Ann - alike. ' I can assure you sir that my children DO NOT!'
We still got out though cos he wouldn't go away.
LOST MY BOTTLE
Spent a lot of time wondering why I have become scared of stuff. Scared of snorkelling too deep. Scared of helicopter rides. Scared of big tropical rainstorms. Is it motherhood or old age, I wonder? I'm still wondering.
HOLIDAY DISCOVERIES
All the family quality time pays off. I now know that my daughter can make arm farts and my son likes gambling and trucker hats with snakes on.
BIKINIS ARE FOR FLAT CHESTED GIRLS AND OLD WOMEN
I am neither. But now happy that I will one day wear a bikini again without having to diet, exercise or feel ashamed.
HOW VOLCANOS ARE MADE (AND SPELLED)
I knew neither as my six year old pointed out ( I had an e in there somewhere). I now know both.
HOW SUGAR CANE BECOMES SUGAR
The scottish school system should be ashamed of me.( I do know how to roll my own and smuggle vodka into a school disco for under 15's though.)
HAWAII HAS ONLY 12 LETTERS IN THE LANGUAGE.
Honestly. Not a helpful language for the poorly educated and directionally challenged among us.
DR WHO MEGATHON
My kids love Dr Who. We watched an episode each day, when it was too hot, or in the evening before bed. And replayed the entire series on the flight back. Great ressurection BBC.
MOTHER'S LOVE.
I'm not a great swimmer. The waves in Hawaii are BIG. We got bundled a few times. When I had charge of the little boy, I opened my eyes whilst underneath the rushing surf, grabbed him and pulled him to me even though that ditched me on my head, in the process of being thrown upside down I righted him and placed him on his feet, and covered his eyes when I was balanced on my neck in the surf with a bucketful of sand rushing up my nose. It was not pretty or graceful, and he still accused me of letting him go. But I know better.
SURF RASH HURTS
Especially when you are too hefty and not old enough to be wearing a bikini.
Anyhow, Maui. I had good intentions and made a list of noteworthy thoughts. As usual the list in itself is more entertaining than my usual ramblings. Explanations where the note still means something to me -(note to self: must make better notes).
MAUI - RAIN?
BURNT MEN/SPF MACHISMO
NAZI IN GOLF CART
A jobsworth security guard insisted we get out of the hot tub because the kids were under 12 years old. (lots of old folk in the complex). I tried to argue since there was no-one else in the pool area. He insisted, calling me 'ma am' in the process (which is always offensive to me for some reason). His reasons were a) its a house rule. I argued that wisdom of that one b) it's bad for their health - its too hot . I argued that the hot tub at home was 5 degrees hotter c) they wee in the tub. - to which I became a grossly offended Princess Ann - alike. ' I can assure you sir that my children DO NOT!'
We still got out though cos he wouldn't go away.
LOST MY BOTTLE
Spent a lot of time wondering why I have become scared of stuff. Scared of snorkelling too deep. Scared of helicopter rides. Scared of big tropical rainstorms. Is it motherhood or old age, I wonder? I'm still wondering.
HOLIDAY DISCOVERIES
All the family quality time pays off. I now know that my daughter can make arm farts and my son likes gambling and trucker hats with snakes on.
BIKINIS ARE FOR FLAT CHESTED GIRLS AND OLD WOMEN
I am neither. But now happy that I will one day wear a bikini again without having to diet, exercise or feel ashamed.
HOW VOLCANOS ARE MADE (AND SPELLED)
I knew neither as my six year old pointed out ( I had an e in there somewhere). I now know both.
HOW SUGAR CANE BECOMES SUGAR
The scottish school system should be ashamed of me.( I do know how to roll my own and smuggle vodka into a school disco for under 15's though.)
HAWAII HAS ONLY 12 LETTERS IN THE LANGUAGE.
Honestly. Not a helpful language for the poorly educated and directionally challenged among us.
DR WHO MEGATHON
My kids love Dr Who. We watched an episode each day, when it was too hot, or in the evening before bed. And replayed the entire series on the flight back. Great ressurection BBC.
MOTHER'S LOVE.
I'm not a great swimmer. The waves in Hawaii are BIG. We got bundled a few times. When I had charge of the little boy, I opened my eyes whilst underneath the rushing surf, grabbed him and pulled him to me even though that ditched me on my head, in the process of being thrown upside down I righted him and placed him on his feet, and covered his eyes when I was balanced on my neck in the surf with a bucketful of sand rushing up my nose. It was not pretty or graceful, and he still accused me of letting him go. But I know better.
SURF RASH HURTS
Especially when you are too hefty and not old enough to be wearing a bikini.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Lucky white heather
We agreed to host a party last weekend. Long story, but basically friend couldn't find a good space for her 40th and our ocean view fit the bill, so we were persuaded - with not too much difficulty I hasten to add. Lets face it, if someone says throw us a party, we'll invite the guests, pay a caterer, bring in a barman and booze, book entertainment AND supply a clean up crew. You just come and enjoy yourself - you're gonna say yes!
So we plan for an inside /outside party. On Friday we all graft to transform the guest room into a lounge bar, open up the doors to the patio, hang fairy lights on the fences, set up the firepit and position the bouganvilla, the caterer drops off glassware, the 'piano' arrives and the bar is set up overlooking the bluffs. We admire our handywork while sipping a beer on the deck, looking for comets in the sky. Bliss.
And it true Scottish party plan style, Saturday morning it's raining.
We bag the fairy light connectors. 1pm its still pouring, so we set up a canopy over the bar. 3pm its peein wi rain. 4.30 pm, birthday girls husband forbids the fairy lights cos he's had 3 shocks already. 5pm the caterer arrives and the house lights start to flicker. 6pm We break into the earthquake kit for storm lamps to put on the stairs which are pitch black for some reason. 6.30 I hit the shower. 7pm guest start to arrive. It rained and rained and rained. The firepit was lit 4 times before we gave up on it. The patio heaters were steaming in the drizzle. The barman was wearing a stockmans hat.
And it was a GREAT party. The rain forced us to keep close and chatty in the bar tent. The piano became a singalong zone and the whole place was lovely decked out in candlelight.
Sunday morning, the sun was splitting the heavens as we all traipsed to Cafe Luca for breakfast.
(Minus husband who couldnt surface until 3pm - some of us get wiser with age - some don't)
So we plan for an inside /outside party. On Friday we all graft to transform the guest room into a lounge bar, open up the doors to the patio, hang fairy lights on the fences, set up the firepit and position the bouganvilla, the caterer drops off glassware, the 'piano' arrives and the bar is set up overlooking the bluffs. We admire our handywork while sipping a beer on the deck, looking for comets in the sky. Bliss.
And it true Scottish party plan style, Saturday morning it's raining.
We bag the fairy light connectors. 1pm its still pouring, so we set up a canopy over the bar. 3pm its peein wi rain. 4.30 pm, birthday girls husband forbids the fairy lights cos he's had 3 shocks already. 5pm the caterer arrives and the house lights start to flicker. 6pm We break into the earthquake kit for storm lamps to put on the stairs which are pitch black for some reason. 6.30 I hit the shower. 7pm guest start to arrive. It rained and rained and rained. The firepit was lit 4 times before we gave up on it. The patio heaters were steaming in the drizzle. The barman was wearing a stockmans hat.
And it was a GREAT party. The rain forced us to keep close and chatty in the bar tent. The piano became a singalong zone and the whole place was lovely decked out in candlelight.
Sunday morning, the sun was splitting the heavens as we all traipsed to Cafe Luca for breakfast.
(Minus husband who couldnt surface until 3pm - some of us get wiser with age - some don't)
horsey talk
Around this time last year, I took some horse-riding lessons. I've always been strangely afraid of horses with no sound reason. Although our niece used to hang out at a riding school and one of her little friends had her nose kicked off by a horse - literally kicked right off her face, so I suppose that's a good enough reason for me to be cautious. I took the lessons because Twinkle was desperate to get horsey - I believe its a little girl phase - although I never recall that from my childhood. Not many horses around where I come from though - except pulling the rag mans cart. Anyway, I took the lessons, bought the cowboy boots, spent QT Sundays with Twinkle, learned how to saddle a horse (gently) catch a horse in paddock (edge up slowly) and even ride a horse (kinda), experienced English and Western (its all in the girth), trail and ring riding (snakes and rails require different skill sets), but when it came to cleaning hooves I quit. There is nothing in this world that will convince me that squatting near a horses backside, grabbing a heaving great leg and resting it on my knee while attempting to scrape sh** with a blunt hook is something worth paying $90 an hour for.
All said though I'm happy to turn up and ride when I'm on holiday now though - which I never was before, so I suppose it was worth it.
Anyway, I recall at the time of these lessons, thinking how when people talk horse, they don't seem to be aware of non-horse context. I presume because they live and breathe horses. It all came back to me this week. Amy at work, is a horsey type, she rode when she lived on the East Coast. Still nags her parents for a horse for her birthday every year (she's older than me even - and thats'way old'). Hasn't been able to ride for a while because of a dodgy shoulder. Anyway, she was chatting to a visitor the other day, who apparently has lots of horses. He's lamenting that his daughter is now more interested in boys and cars. Amy was saying how she never gets to ride any more. Oh, he says, you should come by. We've a lovely arab who'd appreciate a nice ride now and then.
Now I ask you - is it just me?
All said though I'm happy to turn up and ride when I'm on holiday now though - which I never was before, so I suppose it was worth it.
Anyway, I recall at the time of these lessons, thinking how when people talk horse, they don't seem to be aware of non-horse context. I presume because they live and breathe horses. It all came back to me this week. Amy at work, is a horsey type, she rode when she lived on the East Coast. Still nags her parents for a horse for her birthday every year (she's older than me even - and thats'way old'). Hasn't been able to ride for a while because of a dodgy shoulder. Anyway, she was chatting to a visitor the other day, who apparently has lots of horses. He's lamenting that his daughter is now more interested in boys and cars. Amy was saying how she never gets to ride any more. Oh, he says, you should come by. We've a lovely arab who'd appreciate a nice ride now and then.
Now I ask you - is it just me?
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)