Don't say...12.
Group sleep-overs are good in theory but the birthday personage often feels very grumpy the next arvo due to lack of sleep.
This part is not fun.
However, this time....the group just talked in
whispered tones until midnight.
The next arvo, where there once would have been irritability...all we had was sleeping on the couch.
Don't say...I should leave a trail of bread crumbs.
It's only ONE week until I attempt my 3 hour birthday trek to walk the entire perimeter of the dam.
If I don't blog next Saturday, can ya please text Leesy and tell her to send out a search party.
Don't say...life goes on.
Michael, Farrah and Bruce...all in one day.
How much can a personage take ?
Don't say...they don't work.
I am a 'chart' person...over the years it has been my major behaviour modification tool (along with the 'whackily').
Currently we have charts for cheekiness, saying 'bum-head', jobs, table manners, getting the kids out of our bathroom....but the latest one was created by X....
It's called the
"Shut the Toilet Door" chart.
You see, Leesy cannot stand the door left open - obviously someone thinks a little motivation is needed.
Don't say...I am not psychic.
My heart sinks when it's
State of Origin night....is that bad ?
I am gonna apply my already proven psychic powers to predict the outocme of tonights game - my Guides tell me - 18 to 12.
Don't say...that pizza is real.
Do you ever have days when you just can't face cooking ?
The dream of having rubbishy take-away EVERY night seems so appealing...the reality it is very unattractive.
Don't say...I don't suffer with poor concentration.
I know I should not have been mucking around taking novelty photos during the recital.
Don't say...it's too soon to start.
Can you help ?I am collecting 1 litre cartons for my Christmas project.
Don't say...it wasn't cold.
Missed blogging on Thursday night owing to attendance at the Winter Festival.
Soup, bread,
fire-sticks, gathering in circles with lanterns, eurythmy, walking silently with extreme reverence to the
bonfire....so pagan.
Don't say...you cannot see it too.
Look closely at the decorative border...do you see a rude word ? Do you ?
I do.
Don't say...you cannot hide puree in chocolate slice.
Do you buy things that you don't eat ?
Suddenly, no one eats pears anymore. Suddenly.
They think I'm gonna stew them for Ivy but they are wrong.
Don't say...the jokes on me.
Everyone is laughing hysterically but no one is owning up.
Who hid this container of dirt in my lunchbox ?
Ha-di-ha-ha.
Don't say...this kid misses out on sugar & preservatives for lunch.
This isn't MY lunchbox...in fact, it is one of many deserted bags of food left lying around where I work.
You could feed the world with the discarded food.
Don't say...you can look but you better not touch.
We have
a LOT of wall space -
a LOT....but is this mirror a little
OTT ?
Don't say...a stroll down memory lane isn't fun.
Half-hearted attempt to continue the job of re-organising the messy garage uncovered
Leesy's wedding dress.
G said she wanted to wear it on her wedding day...Leesy doubted she'll still feel that way when that day comes.
I reckon Leesy still rocks the detachable skirt.
Don't say...you can deny it.
It's finished !
The
SLENDER BLENDER has finally died midway thru mashing some sweet potato for the Little Blessin'.
Foxy (whose birthday is today) gave it to us as an engagement present 16 years ago.
Don't say...how embarrassing !
Have you ever sent a text to the wrong person ?
Have you ever sent an 'R-rated' husband-wife-style text to your sister-in-law by accident ?
Don't say...empty inbox.
There is one personage who will correspond with me via email everyday without fail.
That's
EVERY SINGLE DAY....for about 10 years.
Sadly, this situation is allll over now.
Take pity...can someone, anyone pleeez send me an email ?
Don't say...I like kitty litter.
The petshop near us has moved into a bigger store - we called in this arvie on the way home.
It stinks already.
At home (and I suspect at the petshop), regular changing of the kitty litter is an ongoing problem. It is a major part of the reason I cannot stand cats.
Don't say....it's not ALL about the icing.
Anotherj delivered
'Sunday Market' cupcakes with very groovy icing...which were entirely consumed...however....
One year I am gonna make a birthday cake that is simply a
2 inche thick layer of icing...will save me having to feed the chooks all that left-over cake.
Don't say...I don't dread the field trip to Sunday morning football.
I have to keep in mind that it is a good excuse to miss Mass...but then when I see E scoring 2 tries...it just brings back sooooo many happy sporting memories from my own childhood.
Don't say...we had drinkies.
It's surely against the laws of nature
NOT to have Friday Arvo Happy Hour !
Don't say...he's bored with blogging.
You'll be rivetted to know that today I am
serving up my 333rd blog.
Don't say...you haven't been introduced.
Snobby.
Posh.
Bleach Blonde.
A very dapper Black Hat.
That's Lily Page.
