Generational Hand Me Downs

Carnival time at Kate's place again. The topic: Generational Hand-Me-Downs. She's a bit blue lately so I've kept it light.

I resisted the temptation today to go all philosophical and talk about how my forbears have handed down their strong moral fibre, their impeccable ethics, their affection for each other . .

My grandparents weren't wealthy people and since we left them when I was 11 years old, the opportunity to salvage a few odd hand-me-downs was limited. There are no jewels or riches, just a few knick nacks and the family Christening Dress - actually I've been flatoutsky and haven't had enough time to really give this a lot of creative thought. I did manage to keep a few little things that I'll be able to pass on to my folk when they feel the need for some reminiscing . . right now they're more interested in Guitar Hero and PS3 . . .

So now I have the chance to post a couple of old treasures that have made it through three generations and hopefully will kick off for a fourth!

The chair was my paternal Grandma's and was once part of a threesome. A Grandfather Chair, and a Chaise Lounge but the other two were jumble saled . . .I don't like the colour of the Queen Anne Chair but haven't got round to restoring it yet. The little dress is our family Christening Dress, it has been worn by me, my two brothers, my sister, three nieces and one nephew. The other neph grew too fast and it wouldn't fit . . besides, he'd have died of shame being Christened in a lacy dress!

Do not laugh. This is a regulation Tablespoon, a tbs for those who know the importance of the measure. Plastic ones were broken or dribbled on by babies for entertainment but this has survived almost 100 years! It's one of my most prized posessions and is still used daily!

I remember my mother sewing curtains with this monstrosity. A hand driven Singer sewing machine that my Grandmother lent to her when they moved into their new house when I was about knee high to a grasshopper . . . It's now a glorified door stop (with it's lid on of course) but I didn't have the heart to see it go in the garage sale.

Part of the White Shelley Tea/Coffee service that is intact after 70 odd years. I've cleaned it and bleached it but haven't ever used it for it's intended purpose. I do remember the vicar coming to my grandma's house and this being brought out just for him along with posh chocolate biscuits and little triangle sandwiches. I wonder if he ever appreciated it . . .one day I will do High Tea!

This is just cute. It's a little Chinese Perfume bottle, sent to my Aunt many years ago by a long lost Uncle. It's accompanied with the most delightful hand painted and hand written gift card. I don't know who he was but he clearly loved our Daphne!

My Grandfather's field glasses and medal. . .he was blinded by a grenade blast during the first world war and retired injured. He never would abide a Guide Dog . . pity, I think he would have lived beyond his 73 years if he'd been less sedentary . . . I like the irony of field glasses for a blind man. I have his braille dominoes as well . . .

And last but not least, the cake stand that didn't make it into last Thursday's "Glass" theme. Well used if only for birthdays and special days. A little chipped and worse for wear but I love it. Clare's Lime Chocolate Cheesecake looks great on it. Oh . . and the darling little bells that my Nana collected on her mantle. Naturally, because they're all glass, they remain safely secreted away in the glassware cupboard!

Leaving Home . . . or Knowing What Side Your Bread is Buttered On

When I was about 8 years old, I packed my pyjamas a clean pair of knickers, the dress my mother hated because it had to be dry cleaned and my patent buckle up shoes and announced that I was leaving home.

I hated her, she was cruel and boring and I was off to live with my flapper Nana with her feathers and jewels and makeup and jelly some of which resided in Room 22 of Bleak House Hotel . . "O really" my mother calmly said " . . and how are you going to get there?" . .far from announcing that I'd catch the number 21 bus from Romily to Stockport and then connect with a Manchester bus to Sandy Lane Stretford . . . with nothing more than a Barrett's sherbet in my pocket, I asked her to drive me! Of course the answer was an absolute no and ' If you're big enough to leave home, you're big enough to find your own way'. I sulked for half an hour on the brick wall outside the front with a fully packed pink suitcase designed for dolly clothes and gave in. It wasn't worth the effort. Besides, she'd cunningly made hot pot and dumplings for dinner.

There's been much talk about moving out in my house. Not through petulance but both realise that they're old enough to be out of home. I was married at 22 but they're still here. Both kids are old enough and would really like, no love, to fledge but economics has taken it's toll. Much as I wish it was me moving out sometimes (actually I am considering a house sitting consignment in April and leaving them to their own devices) I do love having them around. But it is they who are considering the pros and cons. One is 24 and returned from an overseas trip with a credit card debt that needs nailing. The other in a long term relationship and dying to move out with his gorgeous girl but also in the process of building a burgeoning business and a little short on cash.

I'm actually not in any hurry for either to leave, I love having them home but the relationship is moving from one of Mum and the kids to - well - flatmates (by my command) who need to meet their obligations and by and large, they're damn good at doing it. Adam is happy maintaining the pool and mowing on command (we live on five acres so that's a day's work). Clare is a great tidier of mess and washer of dishes. Both are my confidants and friends and even fantastic company at lunch. There are however considerations. If you move out, you're looking at:

Living Away
Rent $400 per week
Electricity about $150 a month
Phone/Foxtel about $20 a month (not including personal iPhone or mobile accounts)
Internet about $40 a month
Partying hard say $400 a month
Food/groceries . .who needs food .. say $400 a month (because neither see the point of cleaning products)
Health insurance $100 a month (as long as they stay home, they're covered by the 'family' policy)
E-tag for tolls say $60 a month
Clothes . .who needs clothes . . .

Stay at home:
Board 10% of your income - varies for the Landscaper, fixed for the Graphic Designer between $10 and $75 a week
Washing done $0
House cleaned $0
Beds changed and rooms tidied $0
Food bought and meals prepared $0
Internet $0
Space to ask your friends over to play XBox or party hard $0
Agistment, feed, vet and farrier for your horse $0
Regular mumsy hugs and play $0'
Banker on demand (although this does cut three ways - socialism works folks)
Can I borrow your car 'cos the van's dirty $0
Can you drop me off at the Tav 9pm on Saturday night $0

Having my two besties at home. Priceless!

Who else would live with a live Christmas tree and Jesus and ask them to move out!

Candietagged

I have been Candietagged. Which is good because I have nothing to write about today

I am quite happy going ‘feral’ as long as I have access to clean water (the sea is fine!) and a flushing loo!

I can’t remember birthdays . . .even my family’s. They’re not important to me so why should they be important to anyone else!

Some of the most wonderful people I know and who thankfully call me friend, are half my age!

I wish I didn't give a stuff what people thought of me . . .but I do. It makes me 'needy'

I always read my horoscope. If it's true to form, I believe it, if it's off the wall, I don't.

I can’t stand monkeys, they are grabby, scary little poo-picking pains in the posteria

I don't mind being tagged but I don't like to inflict it unwillingly on others so if you haven't already done this one . . have a go you mugs!

Friday Fuckwit

A Japanese astronaut going to space this month will try to fly on a carpet, use eyedrops in zero gravity and meet a series of other off-beat challenges, a space agency official said.

Koichi Wakata will perform 16 tasks chosen from 1,597 suggested by hundreds of people, from nursery school pupils to a 90-year-old man, said the official at the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA).

Mr Wakata will try "a magic carpet that floats in the air" after he reaches the Japanese laboratory Kibo (Hope) at the International Space Station (ISS) later in March for a stay of more than three months, said a JAXA report.

"It is a fantasy on earth but can humans fly in space?" it asked.

Mr Wakata will also attempt to fold clothes, do push-ups and backflips, arm-wrestle another astronaut and "shoot liquid out of the straw of a drink container to see what happens", said the space agency.

JAXA said it would release footage of the experiments to Japanese media.

Mr Wakata, a 45-year-old former Japan Airlines engineer, joined previous NASA space shuttle missions in 1996 and 2000.

On his first space trip he and a fellow astronaut became the first to play the board game Go in space, using a special set.

In another initiative, the Japanese space agency has invited companies to rent an astronaut by the hour in the ISS space lab to perform desired tasks, which could include advertisements or science experiments.

The hourly charge for an astronaut is 5.5 million yen ($86,000) - plus an extra fee to transport any required items into space of 3.3 million yen ($51,000) per kilogram.

Excuse me but aren't we in a global recession? Oh God don't get me started!

No you're right. Lousy internet problems turned me into a mad woman!

Please . . .I need a spaceman . .Major Tom . .where are you . open the pod doors Hal!

Glass

I feel a little like glass at the moment. Transparent and breakable . . . Fragile and not very viscous but I know that everything's slowly sliding to the bottom and the older I get, I have much less clarity than I did in my youth. Yes, I'm rather like an Elizabethan window pane that's past it's prime and needing a little refurbishment and renewal. A little spit, polish and restoration.

I remember having tea in a little Tea Shoppe in Winchester many years ago, one of those low ceiling Elizabethan places with beautiful blackened beams and a rammed earth floor. The door frames were so small, we virtually had to duck to walk through the door into a dimly lit tea room with neat little gingham layed tables and a roaring open fire. The windows were a conglomeration of tiny squares of thick glass with a circular centre, a symptom of being 'blown' rather than moulded or rolled. I was amazed that restorers were having a problem replacing and repairing these little window panes because . . .since glass is a liquid . . .over the hundreds of years, they'd thickened at the bottom and been rendered fragile and thin at the top. Hard to imagine something so rigid and versatile is actually moving all the time.

I like glass . . I can't be trusted with it. I drop it, I knock it against the flickmixer when I'm washing up, it slips from my hands without any provocation. It flies off the side table with the slightest flick of the finger and shatters into a thousand pieces like a broken windscreen. One Christmas, I actually removed an empty bottle from our glass-topped barbecue table and the whole thing shattered into a million little pieces like a trashed windscreen.

I find glass on the floor days later when I run round with the vacuum cleaner. I'm so predictable with particularly Champagne glasses that I receive at least a dozen every Birthday and/or Christmas to replenish the ones which have become shattered casualties throughout the year. I'm a standing joke when it comes to breaking drinking glasses. the term "Taxi" is frequently yelled at me as glasses tumble on a weekly basis through my apparent clumsiness. Hot tip? Never buy me glassware . . .ooops . . too late! I have no more than 8 matching glasses and yep, they're Red Wine glasses (of course I drink white!) or blasted Stuart Crystal sherry glasses . . who on earth drinks Sherry! But again,they're pretty and sparkly and belonged to people I cared about.

I cringe when anyone gives me anything made out of glass. Like the little Venetian glass bowl with a lid that my mother bought from well. .Venice. The Cavan Crystal photo frame that was a gift from my Padwan's family and is still waiting for an appropriate photograph. My Grandma's cake tray that comes out once in a blue moon at birthdays, high days and holidays. Also her jug that was so often placed on the table filled with Dandelion and Burdock. I love the vase that my daughter bought me for Christmas to replace . .you guessed it, the one I smashed just before. It's perfect for my favourite flowers - Lillies.

Then I have a lot of useless glass. Waterford crystal decanters that I simply can't part with because they're heirlooms, the crystal Bell that sat on my Nana's mantle and a delightful Chinese perfume bottle that I salvaged from my Aunt's belongings after she died whilst everyone else deemed her possessions rubbish and couldn't wait to get rid of her stuff. I love the mirror that my mother in law bought me as a housewarming present because 'everyone likes to make sure they're just so before they leave the house' so it hangs by the front door .

So whilst Glass and I have a chequered history and I would never recommend ever buying or giving me good quality glass (It just ends up in the cupboard to be admired and never touched). It has a quality about it that I appreciate. I can't drink out of a paper cup and spectacles (God who says 'spectacles' without an opening ceremony being discussed) with plastic lenses just don't seem right. Nothing catches the light late in the afternoon as a finely cut crystal. I even like the sound of glass when you dampen the rim and gently smooth your finger around it in a circle to make it sing.


I had photos. And I don't know whether it's blogger or my shitty internet but I've had a devil of a time posting, visiting and commenting this week unless I can do it after work, at work. So apologies for those of you to whom I've been less than regular. New ADSL2 Naked Broadband has been ordered and hopefully will be in place to save me bashing my head against the glass screen of my computer (no it's not really glass) and reduce my hypertension!

Forgiven

Carnival time . . this week "Forgiven" and I was rather stuck until I remembered this from the recesses of my childish brain. I remember all the words to this day . .Melanie Safka also put it to music but I couldn't find a clip . . . I found the gorgeously handsome Ben Harper instead!

I found a little beetle; so that Beetle was his name,

And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same.
I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day ...
And Nanny let my beetle out -
Yes, Nanny let my beetle out -
She went and let my beetle out -
And Beetle ran away.

She said she didn't mean it, and I never said she did,
She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid,
She said that she was sorry, but it's difficult to catch
An excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.

She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn't mind,
As there's lots and lots of beetles which she's certain we could find,
If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid -
And we'd get another match-box and write BEETLE on the lid.

We went to all the places which a beetle might be near,
And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear,
And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout:
"A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!"

It was Alexander Beetle I'm as certain as can be,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be Me,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say:
"I'm very very sorry that I tried to run away."

And Nanny's very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did,
And she's writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid,
So Nan and Me are friends, because it's difficult to catch
An excited Alexander you've mistaken for a match.


See, forgiveness is that simple!

If You Want My Love You Have it!

What's wrong with 'giving it back' or 'paying it forward'. If someone wanted anything of mine, needed it, I'd part with it. In fact I have . . someone wanted a photo from my photo wall of my dear departed lovely Paul a close friend who died 6 years ago . . I let them have it because they were in tears. Someone else was having a 'hot' night with a new man and I gave her a silk teddy that no longer fitted me, actually I had never worn it - she ended up marrying him! If my best friend needs my kidney, she can have it. Of course, nothing is taboo for my children as long as it's not whim or a 'want' but a 'need'. Nothing I own is that important that someone with a desperate need couldn't have. I'd give the shirt off my back to someone who really, really wanted the bleach stained monstrosity.

We have a client, she's not that old, in her early 60's and has slowly degenerated with MS over the past 8 years that I've known about her. Mid last year, it was clear that her income was not sufficient to permit the 24 hour care she needs at home and she would have to either be looked after by one of her three, wealthy, healthy children or move into nursing home care. No 'serious' offers were forthcoming from the kids so her financial adviser helped her arrange suitable accommodation in a nice nursing home (oxymoron maybe but I believe it is actually quite nice).

She moved into care.

The family had the job of dispensing with her worldly goods and retaining the few things she could accommodate in her new digs so everything was auctioned off. Among the belongings and despite one of her long term carer's requests to own it should this particular client not want it, was a painting. Not a famous painting, not painted by a famous person - and whilst I haven't seen it, not a particularly talented painting but one painted by her father. It was auctioned off for $1.

Once this client realised that her beloved painting was no longer hers, she asked her children could it be recovered, she'd pay $50 for it or whatever the purchaser wanted because it gave her comfort and it could be hung in her little room. The children were ambivalent but one of her past carers had the gumption to contact her financial adviser with whom this particular client has built a very close relationship and a plan to retrieve the painting was devised.

The adviser, has been trying so hard to recover this gem until finally, last week, all was arranged. The client's daughter would drive over and pick up the painting, pay what was required and return it to her deeply incapacitated mother. The purchaser rang the Adviser at about 3pm and announced that she she'd had a party the night before and was now not prepared to part with it. End of phone call. .we suspect someone 'whispered in her ear' and suggested it might be worth something.

Who . . who in their right mind, buys a painting by a totally unknown amateur painter and refuses to sell it back to the original owner, a severely disabled one at that, knowing fully that it's sale was a mistake, that it means something, that it has sentimental value . . .

There's a man in America who made a documentary and acquired Mahatma Gandhi's glasses, sandals and a small plate and bronze bowl . . he won't give them back to Gandhi's grandson . . .he's auctioning them and so the grandson is organising a fundraiser to try to buy these iconic items back. It seams very mean spirited to me, then if he gave them back the precedent for British and other imperial acquisitions might be overwhelming . . .

In our lovely client's case . . .We're not talking third world survival here or the Elgin marbles, just an incapacitated lady who would like her painting back.

People can be so unkind. And yes, I'm beginning to think that nice guys finish last!

The Camera Really Does Lie

This is good, I've had a shit week frankly and blogging has kept me sane and distracted so being tagged was a Godsend.

I haven't much to do today other than the usual washing, cleaning, sweeping, pool water balancing, feeding animules and teaching the Merry Widow how to install and use Skype. So Plugger over at Blurb from the Burbs tagged me to air my dirty laundry, prove that I'm not anally retentive when it comes to housework. Envious of a friend's gorgeous home and superb decorator skills. My best friend also has a McMansion that looks like a display home. Beautifully furnished and accessorised so much so that I feel compelled to divest myself of shoes and tip toe around without touching anything. Kath bless her cotton sox puts her own slant on interior beauty. So thought I'd have a bash and I can nicely tie this in with English Mum's Fridge Friday even though it's Saturday . . So here's a peak at my place at its . . .normalest . . .is that even a word?

This is my raunchy, I mean ranchy house from the front. Quite nice and pretty Aussie actually. It' really two houses with a common area in between but showing any more would be giving too much away. Two weeks ago that grass was brown and I honestly didn't think it would recover . . one week of rain later and I had to ask the lad to come home from playing 'house' to mow today . . .



I so wish I lived with an Electrician then he'd fix the wobbly lights in my carport that were knocked skewiff by my nephew over 2 years ago . .yes TWO YEARS . . and have been precariously balanced on the rafters. Of course they don't work . . .oh wait . . .I do live with an electrician!The house is surrounded by a huge verandah. Keeps things nice and cool in summer . . .also a good place for a tipple as the sun goes down . . .



What you don't notice in the verandah shot is my crappy fly screens precariously held into place with an assortment of paving bricks to keep the creepy crawlies out . . . eeeuuww a bird poo'd on it. And it clearly isn't working because I've just been to the loo and there was a mouse, bold as brass sitting on the cistern! He'd crept through a gap in the toilet fly screen, caught him red handed!


Yep, it's a fridge . . .the little face is a magnetic dustpan and brush, perfect for a glass smasher like me. It's got all the usual things, magnets, petrol vouchers, physiotherapy exercises for gammy knees and the next fortnight's menu plan . . . oh and an assortment of veterinary phone numbers and after hours contacts for wildlife rescue . . .and my name, in case I forget it.



This was after my shop last week. It looks like this for about six hours before DrummerBoy get's his mitts on it and cleans me out of house and home. Note the empty milk bottle . . fwooooar that annoys me! He won't touch the prawns tho, they're for my tea! I guess keeping a 5kg bag of ice in the freezer seems excessive but it's been so hot this summer that my poor old ice cube trays can't keep up . . .actually all that's in my freezer is bread, peas and frozen raspberries . . and on very rare occasions a tub of ice cream. And that's low carb champers for the sticky beaks! Just so you know!



One of the great beauties of living in a warm climate is alfresco dining. We have a huge table in the paved 'communal' area but this is our private eating nook. Lovely for sunny breakfasts and light lunches . . .

What you don't see . . . is the crap around the corner stored on an old computer desk . .everything from garden implements to my trusty leaf blower and baby gates to keep Lily confined when she's injured. I took down the green plastic tub to house horse feed and found five Eastern Skinks dessicated inside. What a way to go! (not really sure why there's a CD rack there!)



This is the kitchen/family room. The hub of the house I guess you could say. I did mention that Saturday was cleaning day? Plus Clarebear was at the beach, DrummerBoy's house sitting so it's way tidier than normal . . no glasses on tables, shoes or mail . . just a camera bag on the benchtop . . .hot tip for would-be house buyes . . always make sure your kitchen cupboards reach the ceiling or have a bulkhead built . .they're dust magnets . . .



The bench normally looks like this . . .


This is my lounge although it's more of a computer space and office space for AB Landscapes and Gardens these days. It doubles as the guest room and is pretty much like this all the time although there's no labrador plonked prone in the open space . . . the little tapestries on the backs of the sofa's were gifts from South America, I love 'em. Oh and the Japanese hat . .well that's from Japan . . .Wherever you hang your hat and all that.

Then there is that messy bit under the windowsill and hiding behind the dining table. The business files (cost zippity from the Reject Shop) horticulture references and the Guitar Hero corner but you're not supposed to notice that.




My bedroom. . pretty ornary but tidy with summery linen and the books I have been intending to read for over 2 years . . .maybe when the electrician does his bit, I'll nail the books . . .



What you don't see? . . .The scrappy corner. Winter's Dimplex heater covered with an old towel to prevent dust, the family tool box (there to stop others pinching stuff and not putting it back.) A cork board that I'm not sure what to do with but it's too good to throw away. The wicker basket is the 'dressing up box'. Very handy for fancy dress. A pair of Colorado shoes that I love but they're so whiffy they need to 'air' near the window and the teev, well it works but it isn't even plugged in. I just have nowhere else to put it and I never watch TV in bed so . . .


Ah the workroom. . .yes I still do my children's washing even though they're big and ugly enough to do it themselves. The front loader might be sooper dooper energy efficient and wash 7kgs in a mugful of water but it takes forever to reduce my carbon footprint! Not sure why there's only one gardening glove hanging from the tap either . . .funny what you notice in photos.

Actually it doesn't look much better after the laundry's been tidied does it! (Should have washed the floor!)


Ah the shed. Looks like a normal double garage no? . . .pretty tidy with a tractor ramp . .

Sweet Jesus you don't wanna go in there. It's festooned with spiders. I've just baited for rats, found a possum on the hay yesterday (was then wracked with guilt and hoped it hadn't eaten any of the rat baits - it was actually enjoying the lucerne so hopefully safe) and believe me, I can barely move in there. The section on the right was supposed to be my painting nook . .never happened. Full of next door's tax returns and horsey stuff and old drums, and landscaping acoutrements and tractor stuff and motor bikes and workbenches and spiders and did I mention rat poo?



I'm not even going to mention the curiosity corner, the boxes of Taboo, Monopoly, Scene It and dominoes on top of the glassware cupboards or the soccer ball that Lily wedged under the TV trolley. And I'm definitely not venturing into the kids' rooms . . .or talking about wardrobes. I simply have no storage in this house so everything is shoved out of site in wardrobes and cupboards.

And final proof that I'm nowhere near as tidy as I'd like to be and why I'd never let anyone open my cupboards without undergoing a commando boot camp first . . .the dreaded cupboard above the microwave. You know, the one with the dog chains, bandana and drugs, the cables that once charged your old Nokia in 1992 which has been kept long after the phone's bitten the dust, the wrapping paper and gift bags. The cellotape dispenser that weighs a ton and falls on your noggin' the minute you open the door? Yep, THAT cupboard . . .I'm not proud of it mind you but no matter how frequently I tidy, it gets in a mess in a whisper . . .if you ever visit . .DO NOT OPEN THE CUPBOARD ABOVE THE MICROWAVE!Oh Kath, I nearly forgot . . .I have a fan . . .

Friday Fuckwit/s

So many I have to give you more than one. . .in the spirit of fairness . .an Aussie heads the bill:

A THIEF has bungled an attempt to break in to a car in Adelaide, locking himself inside the vehicle as police arrived.

Police said the man was one of two caught early this morning breaking into cars at Port Noarlunga, in the city's southern suburbs. A 28-year-old was found hiding in some bushes while a 53-year-old was found hiding in one of the cars.

"The man, while breaking in to the car, had locked himself inside and couldn't get out," a police spokesman said.

Two men have been charged with illegal interference and theft.

but they have them in England as well . . .

A SUSPECTED armed thief got himself stuck on a narrow unit block ledge 15m above ground and stayed there teetering on the edge for six hours.

The alleged thief, 50 and holding a six-inch knife, nearly toppled over the ledge three times but managed to stay on the ledge with his knife until eventually getting down to waiting police.

All residents of the block were told to evacuate their homes as the alleged thief broke through the windows of one unit and then another as he moved along the ledge.

Police, fire and ambulance officers were even made cups of tea by neighbours in Hove, East Sussex, England, as they waited for the alleged criminal to come down.

But no . .we have the best and the stupidest in Sydney this month

IF PETER Hinton had stopped after allegedly stealing five T-bone steaks and a frozen corn-fed chicken, he could have dodged any comparisons with stupid criminals.

Hinton, 20, is accused of breaking into Dangerous Dan's butcher shop in Macksville and taking the meat from a freezer room early yesterday.

Not content with having allegedly nabbed a decent dinner, it seems he then took the frozen chook to nearby Cafe Au Lait. After a couple of rocks failed to shatter the glass, he allegedly threw the bird in, badly slashing his hand in the process.

It was then that Hinton gave up the game and dialled triple-0 himself.

Police said he was fearful a few blood stains left at the scene would have led police to him - and he may have wanted an ambulance.

Police have compared Hinton, from Nambucca Heads, to two handcuffed escapees who ran into a pole and managed to wrap themselves around it in New Zealand last week.

Cafe Au Lait's Jessica Ormandy cast doubt on the seriousness of any injury, discovering only a small amount of blood when she arrived for work.

"Well, he is a bit of a chicken. There were no big splashes of blood," she said.

Police said they were stunned by the triple-0 call.

Ha . . vegetarians don't get into that much trouble nicking a lettuce!

Toy/s - Theme Thursday

It's Theme Thursday today . . .the theme? TOY but I decided rather than write, I'd give some of my regulars a virtual toy to play with . . .don't feel bad if you missed out. These are the commenters I 'know' the best . . you'll all get yours eventually!For JD at Jefferson Davis because . . well he needs one!

For kj cos she's a romantic at Options Associates

For Miles because he can tap along to his iPod at Jungs Programme Notes
For Ernest the intellectual at Rub Two Neurons
For Nick at Nickhereandnow because he lubs his Jenny

For Megan at All I Want is Everything because . . well she loves toast!

For Absolute Vanilla who's writing, rewriting and rewriting again!

For Thrifty who's a take charge do it yourself kinda guy . . .

For Terrence at Moo Dog because he's a bog-hopper who likes cows . . .

For Moon at Rambling Thoughts of . . . who likes dogs but forgets the messy bits
For Maxi Cane because he's filth

For Melissa at Forge Light because she has too much cooing in her loungeroom

For Jay at The Depp Effect because she has every photo of Johnny already and no doggies to doo-doo

For Ian at For the Feinthearted because . . well he likes Jesus
For Grandad to shoot tourists with affection instead of deprecation . . .I think he's sweet deep down
For Gledwood who has a thing about ping and hamsters


For Wuffa at Laughing Wolf because he's rather magical
For Bimbimbie because she won't find one of these in her birdy garden

For Annie Ha at Revolution - because she has a bacon fetish
For Ropi because he's quite the historian . . sorry she's not Hungarian kiddo!
For Miladysa who warps time with her Refuge for Delayed Souls . . .

For Kate at One More Thing to east the mega-migraines
For K8 the Gr8 because she loves her games . . .

For Steph at Biopsy Report because she's bouncy and found one at the Blog Awards

For Jelly Monster because she's good enough to eat . .or so Maxi says
For Kath at Blurb from the Burbs because it won't put on weight!
For Christopher at Just Right because even Librarians have a sweet tooth


For English Mum because she's delicious
For Ces, at Ces and Her Dishes because she really loves Obama deep down . . .



A G & T for GrannyMar who needs one to keep up with the toy boys.

Hehe don't I have great taste? Aren't you glad you're not on my Christmas List!