On destiny and other stuff.

I was watching Julie and Julia while folding laundry this morning, and found myself checking out the interview bit that they run while the credits are rolling.  Nora Ephron was talking about how Julia Childs didn't become "Julia Childs" till she decided to embrace French cookery at the age of 50.  That within a week of starting her "mission" she'd found her destiny. 
Am I the only one who finds that a little offputting?   That basically she was nothing, had nothing to show for 50 years of existance until she mastered wholesale duck butchery??
God help us, I hope people have more sense than that.   I'm 42, and have spent the majority of my adult existence  doing just that....existing.  Doing the day to days,  having ups and downs, exceptional moments that didn't last long enough and crappy days that lasted for weeks.  Does this mean that I'm yet to become me?  That there's some line in the sand, some prerequisite "thing" that I must achieve before I can stand up and say "yep, I'm definately Kjirsten Hartwell".   Bullshit.   I AM WHO I AM.  Beware.

Counting Down/ Scream ow!!

We are past the half way point....Second Son will be back at Planet Hartwell in three weeks.  I'm coping better than I did the first couple of weeks, but I miss him desperately....he's my constant companion and offsider, as well as the only member of Planet Hartwell to share my taste in television.  
With firstborn splitting his time between school/band/work,  he's hardly ever at home and when he is, he's in his room doing homework or sleeping.  Second son, on the other hand is happy to watch hours of River Cottage with me, while we discuss the finer points of cooking organic snails.   He's good company.   And I could use some at the moment....I managed to trip over an uneven bit of pavement last Thursday which has given me an ankle the size of a grapefruit and the colour of a plum, which has restricted my walking to hobbling.  I'm still working, but in between shifts I'm confined to the couch with an icepack.  I need entertainment!!

I've changed my mind about the gun.

So today I get another form from the Oracle (read as DSS or Department of Massive Wind-Ups) telling me that firstborn's benefits are being cut because "he is no longer continuing full time study".  
So, every morning when he moseys up to the bus stop in full school uniform, complete with laptop, school texts that cost me a small national debt in levies and a trombone, he's actually going to some top secret location where 15 year olds can apparantly hold down a full time job between the hours of 8.45 and 3.15, while using a government issued student bus pass.   My head hurts.

Another reason why I really shouldn't be trusted with a gun.

I am not on speaking terms with Centrelink.  I'm not even on friendly-type interwebbing terms with centrelink.  I'm on migraine inducing head-smacking breathing-into-a-paper-bag terms with centrelink.  And it's only gonna get worse.  It's my own fault for having a child that insists on getting older.  My optimum child-parent-relationship age is 2 years 7 months.  They're portable, still reasonably cute, and they can't really argue.    But I digress.  Firstborn is turning sixteen in a couple of weeks.  Which comes in and of itself with a whole bunch of things I don't want to think about "LEARNERS PERMIT" at this stage.  But something I apparantly do need to consider is the fact that centrelink are going to erase my child from the Book of Doom or wherever they keep their records unless he applies for youth allowance.  I'm good with this....he's a youth,  so I guess he's allowed.   The forms are online.  They start by asking him to type in his secret teenage decoder word so he can start filling out his "e-claim".   Firstborn looks at me blankly (happens more than you think) and gives me the all purpose I-dunno-what-that-is-and-hey-isn't-this-your-job-anyway look.  Cue migraine.  By the time we covered dependant children (HIS.....not mine), marital status (HIS....not mine, and BTW don't you love how they kinda expect that you'll procreate before you legally committ??)  and whether or not he's entitled to a share of the house I don't have, my brains were leaking out my ears and leaving trails on my cheeks.    I rang centrelink and asked for an interpreter.  She asked what language.  I said English.  She hung up. 
Friday is sports day at Cav.  Firstborn will not be attending.  Instead we will be enjoying a field trip to our local centrelink office.  Sans gun.   I'm not completely  unreasonable.  Yet.

Update....

The boys at 9 weeks....Achilles on the left and Hektor on the right.

They're due to arrive @ Planet Hartwell in 4 weeks.   I don't remember pregnancy taking as long as this!!!!

Art Journal 1

Finally got started on my Art Journal.....I've got a few pages in progress, but this is the first one I've finished so far.    I feel so much better now I've gotten my paints out again.   With everything that's gone on in the last 12 months,  I was starting to feel like my mojo had gone for good.....even if all it does it keep me occupied till Sebi gets back.  

Copic Cutie.....

heehee, isn't he sweet??   Amour Luka, from the La-La-Land collection, coloured with copics.  He's got a special place in my Art Journal.   I'm still learning the basics, but LOVING the end results.  FF is just happy to find me doing something other than pining for second son.....although I will admit that I picked this particular stamp because it reminded me so much of Sebi, lol. 

Prolonged pining has also paid off in other ways....apparantly FF thought that cable hookup and a TV in HBC would give me something else to think about, so this morning he set up a little wall mounted unit, and I'll be honest.....I'm totally loving it.   Hopefully some long term creativity is on the way....at least until Nanna and second son return in four weeks...and two days....not that I'm counting.....

The coolest thing eva since Maccas handed out Winnie-the-Pooh's head as a happy meal toy.

See these guys??

LOVE. THEM.

I think it's the whole

 "I might buy a burger, but then again I might just leap across the counter and rip your head off and eat your brain" vibe.

Cute, fluffy and ever-so-psychotic.  Bonus.

In which our heroine realises her White Knight is really a big green Ogre with no Facebook

Just shows you that even after 20 years you can know someone you've shared some seriously intimate stuff with (think 'giving birth and camping') approximately as well as the guy who walk down the street and stuffs your mailbox with junk ads.   Although I'm way into junk mail both as an advertising medium and an artform, I'm not really on intimate terms with the delivery guy, IYKWIM.   FF on the other hand, I'm supposed to know well.  We've been together for 22 years.  Legally shackled for 20.  And we just redebted outselves considerably doing it all over again,  medieval style, for the amusement of family and friends and aossociated nosey lookie-loos.   And now I find out the shocking truth......

FF has no facebook account.

It's true, people.....I am married to a caveman.  (I kinda knew that already, but the facebook thing was a SHOCK).    All his obsessing over achieving the speediest broadband in the cosmos and the man does not have facebook.  

Although, now that I have discovered this shocking fact, it does explain why he never updated his status. 

"FF is hard at work, supporting the love of his life and large hungry offspring"

Not that I needed the update....I had him micro-chipped on our tenth anniversary.....safety first, peeps.


So now himself can't show his workmates any wedding pix from our Big Fat Pagan Hoedown last week 'cos the only ones we have so far were taken by mates and posted on Facebook.   And I'm too busy trying to find my slippers before my toes fall off to work out how to get him an account of his own. 

Guess they'll have to wait for the movie.

Animal House

I'm typing this with a spaniel on my feet.  Since the mother of all mothers and second son left for places abroad,  I've been surrounded by a herd of spacially challenged geriatric housepets.  Every time I move they all give me the evil eye, get to their feet and follow me to wherever I'm going.  It's like troop movements on four legs.  And it's driving me round the twist.  especially since Benson has embarked on a protest sit in....or maybe "sit-on" is the better term.....he's taken to lying on my feet, abviously working on the theory that I'll be pinned to the ground and unable to escape to another room.....or another country on the other side of the planet.  Are we feeling guilty yet, mother???

Firstborn

what can I say?  he's 15.  deal with it. 

bet U wish it was scratch and sniff................

The candle fairy left a box of goodies on my front deck this morning....

apple orchard, wild rose, amber dream, black raspberry, spiced plum, ginger pumpkin.

Please don't lick the screen....



HBC is back in action......

After a major post-wedding pickup and 20 something garbage bags of crap removed, I am back in business...now to print some pix!!

Sneaky Post-Handfast Pix and an update

a small sneaky peek from last Saturday's festivities....

 

Alternatively titled, "The Pagans Shake Their Medieval Booty"

It was the Best. Day. Ever.

Seriously.

On a not so muchly awesome note, Second Son has been gone for a week.  I'm getting used to my quiet house.  But I don't like it.   AT ALL.  Although I'm feeling slightly better after hearing that Seb has found a kindred spirit in his cousin Nathan and they have been jointly ridding the world of all things alien via XBOX.

Noice.

Will post some more pix at at a soon to be later date.