My children and I have a few cafes/restaurants that we frequent - we are regulars.
As a result, you get to know the staff and other regulars. Today we went to Bill’s, we have always preferred the original Bill’s in Darlinghurst.
Seated every morning at the table on the left is a gorgeous couple - I assume they are there every morning, and that table is their designated table. If anyone else ever happens to sit there, the staff gently advise them that it is reserved.
Anyhow, this same couple have seen me go to Bill’s as a single woman, then in a relationship, pregnant, then with baby, pregnant, then with baby, then with toddlers in tow, then single parenting with tweenagers. Now and again, they engage in a lovely conversation with me, and they marvel watching my family grow.
The staff also get to know you, and what you llike, how you like it and all the guess work and grief is out the window for all involved.
I love this soft familiarity, and that is why we love living where we do, and why we frequent the cafes and restaurants that we do. There is a sense of security due to the familiarity of it all.
I read this in the Charles Saatchi book today
Do you believe in love at first sight?
It is possible, but it pays to take a second look. Love may indeed be blind, but marriage is often an eye-opener. I go along with my favourite philosopher, Cher: “The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing - and then marry him”.
ONE of my all time favourite jokes.
Setting - Early nineties when UK was in the middle of Mad Cow disease
Two cows in a paddock, chewing their cud, having a yap.
One cow says the other ‘You afraid of catching this Mad Cow Disease?’
The other cow responds with ‘Mad Cow Disease, only cows can get that? lucky I’m a Rabbit!’
I think we all have one, a signature stance.
It’s the way we carry ourselves, hold our carriage so to speak.
How many times have you walked into a room and been able to identify someone because of the way they stand, the way they carry themselves?
Another interesting point is how we begin to mirror each other when we have engaged in a common discussion point.
Something else that I have noticed with Instagram, are the number of signature shots! I love that about Instagram, that personalities are expressed through the limitations of self portraiture with the iPhone. Instagram has certainly delivered a ‘signature’ shot/stance to the fore.
When your children are little, by that I mean when they are toddlers - say five and under, maybe even six and under
If it’s too quiet alarm bells go off and you go in search of the missing little monsters. By quiet I mean, no laughter, no tears, no noise whatsoever so you always imagine the worse. Where are they? Oh my god what could they be up to.
My kids are older, that is double digits (one isn’t too far behind) - and when there is too much laughter, when there is too much joviality…alarm bells go off, because I just know we are on the precipice of an almighty argument and then there will be tears and shouting and all the ‘I’m never going to play with you again’ arguments.
Dear oh dear!
But peace will be restored, and the cycle eventually begins again …
Did I mention it’s cold today?
Now you can’t see my jeans, but someone asked me why do I love wearing oversized clothes…well it’s all about balance. So up top today for me is fairly fitted, fitted top, fitted jacket - so juxtapose/balance that, I wear loose fitting pants. I really don’t like the look of fitted top to toe…bit slutty for me, or not suitable for someone my age - just saying.
BUT to contradict all of the above, I don’t mind an oversized jacket with oversized pants …
Just keeping you all on your toes!
I can’t believe that Kinder Eggs are banned in the US! WOW That is … Almost bizarre to say the least. Well, then THANK YOU to everyone who has responded to try and help and those who also gave me the heads up with the information that they are banned. Who’d have thought - contraband Kinder Eggs …
My kids, they each have a Smurf Village on my iPad/s
Now I’m constantly on Harvest duty for them - you see, with the village you have to maintain the Smurf’s lifestyle, and earn points so you can buy more Smurfs. It’s like being a Slave Master and where you can buy a smurf, and if you get more money your Smurf can have a house, a plot of land to grow…artichokes or Blueberries (because they are free), from there you can buy park benches etc.
It’s funny how different the Villages are too. My daughter’s Village looks like a Walter Burley-Griffin planned town. The Houses are all the same colour, in perfectly unison rows as are her garden plots. No random pickings here, and if you don’t like this village - best smurf on. My Son’s village is hysterical - it’s random, it’s abstract, it’s all different colours and he spends his dollars like there’s no tomorrow. My Daughter - she plays a far more strategic game and has long term goals in her sight.
But, lets not look into it too forensically - they are different ages, and one’s a girl and the other a boy. Just saying!
Now back to the role of Slave Master - who’s the slave here? ME!
Mum don’t forget my Artichokes!
Mum don’t forget my Tomatoes!
Mum don’t forget my Potatoes!
Damn those Smurf’s!
I love it when my brother complains his clothes are too small, because I just know that he’ll throw them in my direction.
Who needs so called ‘boyfriend’ clothes when you can raid your brother’s
Now something has just arrived for Guido - and damn it! It fits him
Another funny story.
I caught up with a dear friend today for lunch (we went to Primary School together! - that’ll give you an idea how long we’ve known each other)
Anyhow, we were exchanging funny family tales and she shared this with me about her eldest son.
This year her son had to study a Notable person, and his was Gough Whitlam. Apparently he wasn’t too enthusiastic about this so his Teacher sought to share some interesting facts with him. So she went through a few like, He was the Prime Minister of Australia, was dismissed by the Governor General yada yada and he started off as a Barrister.
‘A Barrister…HE MADE COFFEE!’
I rest my case.
Tuesday night treat, kids and I are watching ‘Once Upon a Time’
Prince Charming is dying in the arms of his beloved Snow White
My son calls out ‘I suppose they don’t know about CPR’ back in those days
My daughter responds with ‘I don’t understand why everything has to be about Star Wars’
We are confused, and my son starts shouting back at her ‘CPR! CPR! CPR! it’s nothing to do about Star Wars’ my daughter responds ‘CPR isn’t that the name of one of the robots in Star Wars?’
God help me if my daughter doesn’t know the difference between CPR and C3PO!