The Gallery … One Day in August

Tara over at Sticky Fingers set forth a very special task for this week’s Gallery.  It was to take a picture on a particular day … Sunday, August 29th to be exact.  And, it was to mark the beginning of the #Blogladesh Save the Children journey that Josie, Sian and Eva are taking this week.

So, here’s my photograph for this week’s very special Gallery … it’s a photograph of my youngest at bath time … my beautiful boy is playing and laughing around in clean water.  Sadly, this is something most children in Bangladesh have ever experienced. 

Please click here to see how you can make a difference.

My Emmys Round-Up …

Did you see it?

Did you?

Did you?

The red carpet, the glamour, Jimmy Fallon …

the opening Glee based number …

 

the George and Modern Family montage …

the Mad Men win.

This year’s Emmys were fabulous. 

Maybe it was Ricky Gervais rubbing off on the old Hollywood stuck-up crowd with his Bucky Gunts crack …

or the hilariously talented Jimmy Fallon, but it just seemed a little less pretentious and just more fun.

My worst dressed pick of the night was Keri Russell.  I know, I’m sorry … a lot of folk loved this look, but it just did not do it for me and I personally thought that it was just all wrong for the Emmys.  It looks like something that could be worn to my 70′s birthday disco … Yikes!

My favourite colour to wear is navy and there was a lot of it on the red carpet so it’s no big surprise that my best dressed was little Lea Michelle … gorgeous!

Nice job y’all.

Dancing Queen …

Some call me a control freak.

I prefer to call it being prepared for anything. 

Maybe it’s the Virgo in me, but I like to know everything and, no … I’m not a huge fan of surprises.  With my upcoming 40th birthday, I made sure to tell all involved that I did not want to be surprised again like I was with my 30th.  Although, that was a pretty sweet surprise and I’m still not sure how they all pulled it off, however, I just kinda like to know everything.  Ye know, so I can be prepared.

So, I’ve been told that my party is going to be this weekend and it’s a 70′s themed disco complete with disco balls and loud disco music.  And, knowing that means I was able to order my “Dancing Queen” dress …

as well as make sure all my bathrooms are cleaned and the laundry room is all put away.  Now, I just have to find my Foxy Cleopatra wig …

and hit up the Goodwill shop to find some flares for my boys.

I honestly can’t wait to disco it up with friends and family and I’ve started playing 70′s music to get me even more in the mood.  Here’s my Musical Monday …

Because every woman should know …

My girlfriend’s getaway last weekend wasn’t exactly all glam.  Don’t get me wrong.  It was fabulous, but en route I got a speeding ticket, my sty made a reappearance, we failed yet again to find a good dance place (I was taller than the lead singer of the live band at the beach bar we went to … and he was standing on a stage) and I came home with a canker sore.

Lovely I know, but enough whining.

Every year we always have a theme of sorts … usually based on the debaucherous (is that even a word) events of said weekend.  In years past, we’ve had “ping pong,” “red tide” and “peace, love and roof envy.”

This year it was “peace, love and ballya.”

And, if you’re wondering why?  Well, it was maybe because of certain conversation material interjected by yours truly.  I’m not even entirely sure how we got there, but we got talking about the subject of … ahem … cough, cough … erm … balls.

Here’s how I think the conversation went …

Me (three sheets to the wind): “You know sometimes they never stop growing.”

Everyone (turns to look at me and says in unison): “What?”

Me (flustered, but feeling very important albeit pie eyed about revealing tidbit of knowledge): “Men’s balls.”

Everyone leans in for more as I explain away.  You see, my family was in the assisted living industry and my hubby’s job with the company would sometimes have him listening to complaints from the elderly residents or their families.  One day he had a resident’s wife pop in to his office to offer up one such complaint … and one that he’s been trying to erase from his memory since the day he heard it, but thanks to people like me who keep reminding him and the world of it … well, because every woman should know. 

Resident’s wife:  Can you do something about the water level in my husband’s toilet?

Hubby (expecting to be told the loo is blocked):  Erm, what seems to be the exact problem. 

Resident’s wife:  Well, it’s unhygienic — you need to lower the water level in my husband’s toilet.

Hubby: What exactly are we talking about?

Resident’s wife:  Every time he goes to the bathroom, his testicles dangle in the water.

Hubby:  What the what?

Fast forward through the hubby’s combined embarrassment, bemusement and curiosity as he rang the director of nurses to tell her about the strange conversation only to learn that there is indeed an affliction that can occur in men where their balls never stop growing.  Hence, the complaint in question.

So, after revealing this tale to my girlfriends and lots of obligatory ewwwww’ing, one of them piped up that this was the weekend of “peace, love and ballya.” 

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On a side note, over here they have a product called truck nutz … it’s kind of difficult to explain so let me just show you …

Yes, folks … when driving over here in the deep South you too could be lucky enough to get stuck behind a similar truck with hanging whatever.  It’s obiously an attempt to tell the world how big your balls are, but I’m not really sure.  All I can do is chuckle and say out loud, duuuuuuuuuude, you have no idea …

Peace, love and ballya.  Oh, and you’re welcome.

The Gallery … A photo I’m proud of

Yes, I know.

This week’s prompt for the Gallery is a photo I’m proud of.

And, yes.

I probably should have chosen a photograph of my gorgeous children, but come on. They’re on here all the time and anyways, how on earth could I pick just one when I’m proud of them all.

Perhaps I could have picked a photograph of a fellow blogger, but that would be a bit hard for me as I’ve not actually met any in person yet.

So, I went with the obvious. A photograph that I’m proud of. Really, really proud of. Even though it’s not perfect. A photograph that I took myself. A photograph that makes me stand taller, puff out my chest and feel proud when I look at it.

I give you …

Portobello Beach on an eve, Summer 2009

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When you were young …

When I was young.

Just looking at those words makes me go all quiet and introspective.

*sigh*

Yes, folks this is going to be a feck me, I’m about to turn the big forty quiet and introspective post.

When I was young  …

*sigh*

All those years ago. 

I wanted to be a journalist.

All I ever really wanted to do was write. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I did dabble in thoughts of becoming a flight attendant or a veterinarian, but I always came back to writing.

From the moment I learned to scribble, I’ve felt compelled to put my thoughts down on paper.  Stories and tales.  Tales and stories.  

I always had a book, paper and pens in my hands. 

I remember when I was in primary school in Montrose creating a book out of a fairytale story I had written for my teacher.  I know, apple polisher or what, but I loved to write.  To create.  I only hope that teacher knew how much time and love I put in to that homemade book and gave it more than a sideways glance.

When I was living in Washington state, I proudly served as the writer for my classroom’s monthly newsletter.  And, later when I discovered my primary school in Whitby did not have a newsletter?  I designed and wrote one. 

One of my happiest Christmas memories was the one where Santa got me a typewriter.

In secondary school when everyone had to take one of those quizzes in the library that ‘s supposed to tell you what occupation you should be when you grow up.  Well, my results were that I should be a roving reporter.  I even wrote down on an index card exactly what advice was given to become said roving reporter.  (I still have it.)

The advice was basically to write, learn shorthand and how to type. Oh yeah, a  few colleges of journalism were listed  as well.  So, when I was in grammar school studying for my O-levels I decided to take typing and shorthand night classes as well as join a creative writing group … like I didn’t have enough to do, right?  I quietly dropped out of the writing group and shorthand class, but kept up with the typing one.  Mainly because it was such a good laugh and I knew I should learn to type properly at some point in my upcoming reporting career.  

So, what happened?

Well, I remember when I applied and was accepted in to USF’s School of Mass Communication I opted for corporate journalism aka public relations instead of pursuing my dream.  I won’t lie.  Money had a little something to do with it.   I was married with a mortgage and a hell of a lot of college debt to pay off.   The average pay of an interning journalist was practically non-existent compared to that of a new public relations account executive.  Somewhere during my final year of university, I did really fall in love with my degree as well as the first amendment and all things freedom of speech.  So much so that I decided I wanted to go to law school and learn how to defend the rights of the media. 

A car accident kinda put a stop to that. 

I then became a mother and as rewarding as that has been, I lost myself and my voice. 

For a while.

These days, thanks to this wonderful world of blogging I find myself writing.  Again.  Compelled to put my thoughts, tales and stories down on paper line. 

So, am I the person I hoped I’d become?  Yes and no.  True, one day I’d love to see my byline out there and publish a book, but until that time I’m happy.  Writing. 

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“What did you want to be when you were young” is the new brainchild of the man, the myth, the legend The Blog Up North.  It’s a brand spanking new meme where you’re supposed to get all introspective, look in the mirror and tell the world if you see the person you  hoped you’d become.  Or something better. Or worse.  

I’m tagging the following five fabulous bloggers coz I’m nosey like that. 

Typecast

Mum of 4

Rosie Scribble

Hot Cross Mum

Living with Kids

Please borrow the graphic, mention who tagged you, tag some others and get writing.  And, even if you’ve not been tagged, please feel free to participate.  Just be sure to leave me a comment to let me know that you did.

Musical Monday … The Lucky Ones

So, the other night I went to the movies with my sister and her pals to see Eat, Pray, Love.

It was fabulous.

As was the little after party.

And, I now want to be Julia Roberts when I grow up. I want to eat my way across Italy, embracing my muffin top, pressed up against Javier Bardem or James Franco, but I digress.

Ahem.

Before the movie began, there were a few previews to watch … one of which had a song that really caught my attention. Determined to find it, I googled and googled till there it was … “The Lucky Ones” by Brendan James.

In looking for this song, I happened across another great singer/songwriter called Ben Parker. Here’s a favourite of mine called “Gonna Be Fine” — go now and check out the happy chappy’s Facebook fan page.

With so much going on in my life right now … these songs have kinda become my mantra of the minute. We’re gonna be fine.

Feeling beachy …

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.  — Anonymous

Last weekend my girlfriends and I took to the beach for our annual getaway. 

And, it was everything I thought it would be …

copious amounts of alcohol,

cake,

late nights, 

deep conversation,

sun ‘n’surf ,

trolley time

and friendship. 

I  know it doesn’t look it from the pasty white photos of me, but I got way too much sun, ate and drank ridiculous amounts and am still trying desperately to catch up on my sleep, but the weekend was wonderful and I can’t wait to do it all again.

The Gallery … A Memory

As I get closer to turning the big 4-0, I’ve found myself doing a lot of soul-searching … ye know, as you do when life throws you such a huge milestone occasion.

I’ve been thinking back on my life.

My journey.

Reflecting.

Reaching back for memories (before I get too old and forget them all). Some great and some not so good, but all have shaped who I am today. One such quest has been to understand my relationship or lack thereof with my father. Don’t get me wrong. The memories I have of times spent together are wonderful, but he was just absent more than he was there.

So, when I saw this week’s Gallery prompt, I thought it sort of fitting given my current state of being. The prompt is a memory.

This is a photograph of perhaps one of my earliest memories … shortly after I was born, my dad’s work in the US Navy took us to live at Skaggs Island in California. I’ve learned that Skaggs Island was a secretive, secure, self-contained naval base that was engaged in a number of communications and intelligence gathering functions for the Navy and other federal intelligence organizations. The 3,310 acre site was purchased by the Navy in 1941 and closed in 1993. A staff of 400 people are said to have been stationed here and most of the buildings were residential and recreational, including rows of single story homes, a theater, mess hall, recreation center, chapel, bachelor’s quarters, and administrative buildings, all of which fell into a state of disrepair.

The site is now being restored as wetlands, (it used to flood all the time as if you couldn’t tell from the photo) but if done properly it could have actually served the public as an amazing piece of naval and cold war history. Perhaps a living museum of sorts.

My mum always speaks affectionately of the days we spent living here. Even though they were cut off from the rest of the world for months at a time, she says she has never again experienced the comradery and friendship that existed amongst the families stationed there.

So, here I am aged approximately two years old … playing in our back garden.

I found a pretty cool photostream of Skaggs Island on flickr if you’d like to take a closer look at the place I used to call home sweet home.

Time for another British Mummy Bloggers Carnival …

Ooh, I’m feeling all overcome with emotion as I sit here and write this blog post.  You see, I’ve been given the very regal honor of hosting the latest British Mummy Bloggers carnival.  I know, I know.  I’m so special!  

Anyway, please do make yourself welcome, grab a cuppa, help yourself to a Crunchie bar and get ready for some fabulous reads … 

1. Sally from Who’s the Mummy wants the world to know just how lucky she gets with her carnival contribution about the perils of taking your daughter to the supermarket when she’s just learned to read the packaging.
2. On Gizmo Dad‘s blog, he discusses the development of  your child’s eyesight. 
3. Jen from The Madhouse writes about her one of her son’s imaginary friends which reminded me of my middle son’s own invisible friend, Mr. Nobody.
4. I loved Pass the Chablis‘ post where she contemplates deleting her Facebook account *shock, gasp, horror* or Facebook suicide as it’s also known.
5. Laura’s post at Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy about hiring a cleaner via strange text message made me chuckle and wonder how “Sandy” worked out for her.
6. If you’ve ever had one of those days where you feel like you’ve been a bad mother, then Janine’s post on her blog 21st Century Mummy is the one to read.  It will make all that mummy guilt we have over feeding our kids too many chicken nuggets or letting them watch the television too long seem so trivial.
7. Janis from Mum Vs. Kids writes about the worrisome problem she has of getting her young energetic son to stay by her side and not run out across a busy road.
8. We’ve all been there, right?  You know … that first discussion with your child about the birds and the bees?  Oh, the joys of parenting!  You can read all about Michelle’s sex talk with her precocious son at her blog, Mummy from the Heart.
9. Those avid campers amongst us need to pop over to Liz’s blog, Living with Kids and tell her what’s so good about it.  Who knows?  Maybe it will spark her to book her first family camping holiday!
10. Sandy from Baby, Baby writes a beautiful post about the life changing moment she had that changed her outlook on motherhood.
11. On Motivating Mum’s blog you can read all about her wonderful perspective on slaving away for your family and business.
12. Emily at More Than Just A Mother gets the shock of her life when she learns the true meaning of the endearing term her three-year-old has been calling her.
13. Battling depression is not easy but Carol at New Mummy writes a powerful and brave post all about how far she has come in her post, What a Difference a Year Makes.
14. On Smitten by Britain’s blog you can read a guest blog by author Mike Harling about why you shouldn’t visit Stonehenge.
15. This is the lovely Mari from Mari’s World first time participating in the BMB carnival so go easy on her and head over to her contribution where she talks about the latest goings on with her gorgeous twin daughters.
16. Vic from Glowstars discusses things that we do for our kids on her blog post, On Giving Up (or the things we do for our kids).
17. Read all about Mirka’s rainy, but romantic weekend getaway to Prague on her blog All Baby Advice.
18. The hilarious Hazel from Hot Cross Mum writes about her disastrous culinary attempt to make her sons some blueberry pancakes.  Nom, nom, nom.
19. And, last but not least Amanda from Angels and Urchins talks about her recent visit to see Upsy Daisy Backstage: Night Garden Live, in which not all is as it seems behind the scenes with our favourite sleepy characters!

Thanks to everyone who participated — I really loved reading each and every one of them.  If you’d like to learn more about this fortnightly blogging carnival event, you can read all about it here.    The next BMB carnival will be on August 31st and will be hosted at Playing By The Book.