“When anger spreads through the breath, guard thy tongue from barking idly.” – Sappho

I’m so bad at it, remembering first brain and then mouth. But I shall try.

I got me a care package!

So.  I go outside to remind the Hub what I look like and he’s walking toward me holding out a package.  He says it’s for me.  I panic.  I haven’t bought anything, honest!  I don’t know anyone here. WHY HAVE I GOT A PACKAGE!?!  He puts it on the table but I can’t touch it.  I’m pathetic.  It’s just a standard postal parcel and it’s making me as anxious as all buggery.  He opens it a little bit and tells me to open the rest.  I can’t so he does.  And what comes out is manna from heaven.

This, people, is what an Aussie care package looks like.  3 of the major food groups are represented here and it’s all stuff you can’t get here.  Oh, you can get poor, sad, hollow imitations but they are a shadow of the real thing and so you don’t buy them because they mock you with each bite.  Better to go without.

But now I don’t have to.  Now I can make fairy bread!

And cheese and vegemite sandwiches!  And vegemite on toast!   Image result for cheese and vegemite sandwich

*sigh*  My cup runneth over.

For those of you who are completely ignorant of the appropriate dosage of vegemite, I found this users’ guide for you:

Image result for cheese and vegemite sandwich

The Hub was working in Australia for the first time and saw everyone hooking into the vegemite so he thought he’d try it.  He thought it was like Nutella where you spread it good and thick.  He was wrong.  So very, very, screamingly funny wrong.  I haven’t been able to get it near him since, even though I explain it’s really just like beer.  Even the smell will make him shy away.

He has no taste although he was pretty bloody quick in dibbing a packet of Tim Tams.  Bastard.  If my giving up a packet of Tim Tams isn’t a demonstration of true love then I don’t know what is.

He’s going to take his packet to a mate’s where they’ll experiment with all the different ways of ruining a perfectly good Tim Tam in coffee.  Idiots.  I’m going to eat mine the way God and nature intended.

Frozen.

Someone clicked on my blog? No way!

Way!  I’m so new to this that I’m still exploring the pages and options and whatnot that I went to the stats page to have a play and saw that someone had visited me and I’m like “You are shitting me?” and the stats are all like “No, no we’re not.  It happened.” so I have a look and it’s a referral from my current hero The Bloggess.

No.  Way.

My first thought was that it was someone from her office being responsible and making sure that a link to her wasn’t from some deranged stalker who shared her zest for necrophilia (oh that doesn’t sound good).  Necrophiliac?  No.  Deranged stalker?  Open to interpretation. But I followed the referral back and I think it’s because of a comment I made to one of her posts and someone has clicked on my name.  It could be anyone but hey! I am totally cool with the seven degrees of separation.

I don’t even care if they left the moment they realised I wasn’t who they thought I was, or if what they saw was so mindbogglingly tedious their brain shut down in self-defence.

I got me a click.

WTF, flies? It’s OCTOBER!

I’m sitting on my lounge with one of those electric tennis racquets right next to me because I, foolish as I was, opened a window for 3 minutes and now it looks like that house out of Amityville Horror.  You remember?  Okay, so not quite as bad as that but still . . . it’s worse than bloody Australia in summer!

P.S.  The Hub is a complete show-off.  He was all like ‘Look!  7 with one blow’.  Not really but if he keeps this up I may have to smother him in his sleep.  But then who would kill the flies for me?  Bugger.  He’ll have to live.  So close.

Testing . . . testing . . .

Okay.  This is slightly surreal because a) I never thought I’d ever do this as I never have anything interesting to say and b) I can’t imagine anyone listening to what I want to say.  Unless they’ve been trapped by social convention and are just too damned polite to push me out of their way and make their escape.

It’s just occurred to me that I know some very polite people.  Huh!  Who knew.

I just wanted a place to write stuff down, stuff that confuses/scares/amuses/amazes me (and you would be surprised to know how many things are included in all categories), that I can look back at later on.  And show my shrink on demand.  If I get one.  The Outside is welcome to pop in and visit and share their thoughts but only if they’re nice.  There is too much ugly in the world as it is – we shall try very hard not to add to it.

Deal?

Deal.

OmyDogwhathaveIdone?!?