Its all about the hair...

In our family we seem to be going through a bit of transitional hair period. I've just traded my long locks for a rather short and flicky style, which everyone has raved about. I like knowing people think it looks good, but it also makes you wonder if the old style was really 'that bad'. Amelie is growing out her fringe (bangs) which is a hassle in itself and Caleb just won't cut his at all. I feel the teenage years approaching quickly when your 10 year old boy has an opinion about his 'hairstyle'.

Now there is Roy, my metrosexy hubby, who is very particular about his hair and loves his products. AND I am not just referring to hair products, but skin care, aftershave copious amounts of soaps and anything else made to make men smell gooooooooood.

I've recently taken on the challenge of cutting Roy's hair. He likes it fairly short, so its easy to give it the once over with the clippers and a then tidy up the edges with a few flourishes of my new haircutting scissors.

Now yesterday, was my third or fourth attempt. Things were going well, until I grabbed the wrong number of clipper guard and started shearing a little closer to the scalp than I had intended. I am kinda glad he couldn't see the look on my face.

I quickly changed blades and went on with the job. Mostly it went to plan, well, until I accidentally removed most of one sideburn. Oh dear. I think by the end, I was losing confidence and his disparaging remarks about how close the scissors were coming to his ears all but made me want to flee the room. Perhaps I should have...

In the end it turned out quite allright. I am not sure if he'll be coming to Heather's Salon again anytime soon, although, I can be rather persuasive at times! ;)

The Bizarre

I’ve been a little unwell for the last few days. Sitting at home without Heather sucks. I mean what can I do? I feel sick anyway so I certainly cannot do housework. I’m supposed to be at home resting after all. I didn’t read or anything. The first day I looked at the computer for varied and interesting sites. After 4 hours or so of this it becomes boring. So I wait around for Heather to get home.

Second day I feel a little better but I still stay home. No computer so watch TV. Will someone shoot me in the head now! Every program seemed to be about placing ones hand into someone else’s body cavity.

Jamie Oliver what are you going to do with that chicken? I see:

1st – Massage the bird with oil all over.
2nd – Gentle run your hand under the breast to loosen the skin.
3rd – Stick hand in chooks arse and pack firmly but not too tightly as we don’t want the bloody thing exploding on us do we? Got that? Pucker!

National Geographic. Good channel if you want to see dick seeking fish swimming up stream and being removed surgically or someone sleeping with raw meat on their stomach so gut maggots will leave their host, through the skin, for greener pastures. I’ve just seen what Jamie was doing to that chicken so I’ll give that a miss.

Great now there’s a documentary on being a veterinarian. What a big glove you have. What do you need all that lube for? Why are you smiling when you lift up the moo cow’s tail? Please don’t do that! Just put on a full body condom and crawl in there. Holy shit the cow’s glad you haven’t got arms like Schwarzenegger. What big eyes the cow has.

Bizarre Foods. Short, fat, balding American guy eating out of rubbish bins. I shit you not. Yesterday he was in a restaurant someplace in America where they make you squeal like pigs when he was served squirrel brains. He proceeded to explain how to crack the skull, like an egg almost; as it has a little flap you lift up so as to gain easy access to nibble on the brain. Just stop. They even went out bush to shoot these bastards. What size do they grow to when it takes three men, all armed and hiding in the bushes to take just one squirrel down?

I’m too scared to watch anything now. I saw some programs on becoming a dad and pregnancy but sure as shit I’m not watching those! I’m okay about being a dad. Stiff shit if I’m not. I really just don’t like hospitals. Although if Heather is going to get up to all the things she says she’s going to then I’m sure I won’t be concentrating too much on my surroundings.

Australia lost the Ashes. Not real happy about that. Doggies are going good. Second on for and against. Well done. For my American family or anyone who doesn’t know cricket here is a short synopsises:


You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.

When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who stay out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have been out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game.

Hope this explains all.

OH BABY!

With ten weeks until the big 'B' day, I've been doing a bit of internet research about giving birth in an effort to ready myself.

It seems there are many choices for women these days from doing laps in a swimming pool until the baby joins you stroke by stroke, to the more traditional westernized version of laying on a bed with your legs hanging in stirrups.

Obviously the 'natural' way is to squat under a bush and be done with it in a matter of moments. That apple doesn't fall far from the tree here in Central Australia as it seems to be the traditional Aboriginal way of giving birth. But, even for Aboriginal women, the hospital still seems to be the place where the majority of women experience labour these days.

However, according to the latest research, there are some 'methods' women and their partners can employ to make the experience more, well, ummmm.... pleasurable. All it takes is getting a little hot and heavy with your hubby in the throws of pain because midwives claim that up to 20% of women can actually orgasm while giving birth!

Holy Smoke! That's not exactly how I would describe my last 'birthing' experience. I may have gasped and screamed, but it was more along the lines of 'Get it out!' than 'Get it in!'.

I don't discount this theory and I actually have been reading about it rather enthusiastically. Unfortunatley, my suggestion to take some 'toys' to the hospital with us to help enhance the pleasurable experience has fallen on deaf ears. But, I think a little sneaky 'make-out' session, when everyone leaves the room, may be called for. Who knows...

Of course, in all likelyhood, I'll be telling Roy, where to go with his amourous intentions on the day. However, I remain ever the optimist and I promise to give you the scoop when its all said and done.

Pucker up Roy!

Let yourself go

It's funny how as a culture we are extremely reserved. We are trained from an early age to sit quietly in church, raise our hands in school and to generally avoid saying things that might cause offense.

I do think this is more of a cultural 'norm' that a 'human' norm. I know when I sit in a meeting and someone is crapping on about something that matters to me about as much as a knowing the weather forcast in Afghanistan it is hard to sit still and listen, without screaming "who gives a rat's ass!".

I also remember getting these strange compulsions in church to just stand up and say something. Anything. They seemed to hit me when the mood was most somber and everyone was saying a silent prayer. I'd just want to bounce up and say something like, "Did ya know, Mrs So and So's shirt is actually tucked into her undies today!"

I guess my cultural training kept these impulses at bay.

BUT, it is oddly refreshing and one almost gets a little jealous when you do meet someone who will say exactly what is on their mind. Perhaps they embarrass you a bit, or you think they are a prize idiot, but they truly have no need for the normal BS that people sprout. They are black and white, they say what they mean and more importantly they KNOW what they mean.

I'd like to be more like this. I'd like to write about stuff and not care about whether others like or dislike what I have to say. I just want to let myself go a bit. Reveal the real me, the bits of me you may not like, or may love!

I've had so much trouble starting this blog, but now I feel the answer is to just let myself go.

~Heather

Dilligaf

Week two of the blog. Two weeks and I’m getting writers block. I was going to crap on about America a bit more but I don’t think I will. Although one thing that happened the other day and seems to be a reoccurring theme is Heather buying really bad take away lunches. It reminded me of the time we dined at an all you can eat Chinese joint in Aberdeen I had a nice array of chicken bits in gooey sauce. Very nice. Heather on the other hand had chosen a plate of stuff that looked like it had been freshly pulled from the inside of some beast that was happy to get rid of it. Me, with my tasty lunch and Heather with her autopsy.

Tarryn, shelia I work with, suggested that I write about my dog, Rusty. Apparently she has body issues as she had fat removed from her thighs, Rusty not Tarryn. Rusty is fine after her little op.

Heather and I are off to Adelaide during the September holidays. She’s going to show us around while I just sit and relax. Of course we are hoping she doesn’t have the baby while we are there. She is looking forward to meeting one of my friends that lives in Adelaide. I, on the other hand, have to ring him and make sure he only tells the G rated version of my life before Heather. We should have a lot of fun and good BBQ’s at my Aunty Leslie’s house. Heather also gets to meet some more of my cousins.

Good news the Doggies won on the weekend.

Heather has discovered Kevin Bloody Wilson. Now the good God fearing Christian girl, the daughter of a minister listens to “You can’t say c#*t in Canada” and “I had an absolutely c*&t of a day”. Oh, yes I nearly forgot she loves Dilligaf – Do I Look Like I Give A F*#k?" Shit I love her. You’re beautiful darlin’. She had her hair cut the other day and it looks fantastic. Well done love.

We did some work around the house on the weekend and discovered a few new things:

• We have white floor tiles – very nice.
• Our room no longer smells like a Bangkok brothel.
• The sink is bigger than I remember.
• We have a lounge suite in the lounge room.

I’m sure when the sheets off your bed can be used as dry wall, you need to change them. I folded one of them and it snapped and gashed my hand. I noticed the other day that I have a rash like thing on my upper leg. Funny thing is that Heather has a matching one on her arse. What’s that about?

One funny thing with Heather being pregnant is the amount of unexplained fluids leaking out of her. It’s different, in a good way. But it does mean that she is pregnant and that is so beautiful. Heather is looking so good it makes my heart swell. It is a little frightening becoming a dad but I’m so bloody looking forward to it.

Fools Rush In

Ahhhh, here I am again, a new blog, a very new life and hopefully the time to write and catch up on the last little while.

I am no fool, but it seems life has been rushing past with so many new things crammed into such a short time. In the past year, I've gotten married, been knocked up and been overseas twice!

So, without further ado, I introduce this blog... and my husband Roy.

Roy surprises me contanstly, acutally almost hourly. With him, life is never dull or predictable. Anyway... when I said I wanted to start a blog, he said, "Great, I'll start writing!" So, perhaps with some trepidation and perhaps with pride I introduce him to you all... ;)

You will know it's him, by the colourful language and the 'interesting' insights.

Enjoy our ramblings.

~ Heather & Roy

A Fish out of Water

My first blog. No more will I be thought of as an intranet virgin. I really don’t know what to write. Heather says I should write gay porn but I feel uncomfortable with that. I don’t want to share that much. Anyway I went to America for the first time. I was disappointed to find that you are not issued with a weapon at customs, I’d have to buy my own. Anyway we got on a mini bus thing and were driven to our hotel. We went to Bubba Gumps for tea. Not bad.

Next day off to Disneyland. Every bastard in America decided to turn up and see me. Shit how many people want to see this place? Oh I forgot. The bloody light switches are upside down, I feel everyone driving around wants to crash me into on coming traffic. When I wipe my arse I stick my hand in water. Why does the water need to be that high? What sicko wants to see his King Henry’s floating around?

Anyway Disneyland was great. I was a bit jumpy with a few rides but I had an excellent corndog. The only decent one I had for the entire trip. I had a smoked turkey leg on Heather’s dads advice and it was shit. Bloody hell what was he smoking when he ate that. I couldn’t chew or swallow the skin, the thing looked as if it had been dragged behind some rednecks pickup down route 101 for 5 hours, and what was that meat? It was held together by some kind of gelatinous type material. Canada was great. Although we went to a bug zoo, never knew they existed, only to find three quarters of exhibit originated in Australia. Lost Caleb. Found him again. Bugger.

Went to Seattle. Great place or what! Food at the Cheesecake Factory, flying fish a Pikes Market, some criminal getting arrested in front of us and a game of baseball at Safeco Field. You know I was a Red Sox fan now I feel a pull towards the Mariners. Mariners won, crap game but fantastic experience. Got to ride on a ferry. Oh sorry no gay porn. It was good though. Lots of room to move about in. Smooth ride. Didn’t even get wet. I liked Seattle Airport and the Koho ferry that got us back from Canada safely to American waters.

We had 4th of July in America. Wow. I got the shits so that was the end of that. We went to Great Wolf Lodge. What a great place. Oh we also went down to Gray’s Harbour, I think. We had dogs and potato chips plus marshmallows on the beach. Shit it was cold. Summer be stuffed. It felt like the middle of bloody winter. Talking of that we went up to Hurricane Ridge, got the shits, got over it but there was snow on the ground and warnings about bloody bears on the tables saying not to feed them. No shit. They’re pretty bloody bright this mob. Anyway we ran into a few chipmunks and a fawn. No bears. Saw some at the Olympic Game Park though. Cute things. You would probably be thinking that as they proceeded to tear you a new arsehole.

Heather took me to Swains. Some cool things there. Also we had a burger and root beer from Frugels. Not bad. Bloody Dairy Queen is shit and so is the bread and milk in America. That bread was like a mixture of bread and cake. I had a cinnamon pretzel that was nice. I bought a pair of Nike shoes that are way cool. I even had a wee Mexican man say they were very cool on the plane to LA. We bought some See’s chocolate which was delicious. V Australia was excellent. I sat in the exit row and had a huge amount of space to stretch out. No-one sat next to me going over, only one bloke next to the window. And on the way back I had all three seats to myself. Mood lighting, fairly smooth ride, bloody great. The scenery around Heather’s mum’s place and up to her dad’s was breath taking. Only thing was when you’re walking you have to be careful about bloody bears jumping out of the woods. The rivers like the Hoochie Coochie near Heather’s mum’s place were breathtaking. Did you know that the liquor store in Montesano looks like an antique shop? It really is beautiful country. A bit different from desert sands of Alice Springs.