Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Who Is She?

So I was wandering through a second hand shop today, searching for some costume accessories (as you do) and not really feeling it. This particular shop isn't one of my favourites but it was on my way to where I was going anyway so I thought I'd give it a shot. It's a large and messy shop piled with...junk. Most of it is absolute rubbish. Then I noticed a heap of frames on the concrete floor (which could have used a sweep in my opinion!). Not wanting to look like someone who had just taken one look at the surroundings and was wanting to leave in disgust, I thought I'd feign some interest in the the frames before disgust. But then I saw this:
I can't explain why but I just had to have her - as long as she didn't cost more than fifteen bucks. So I casually asked the assistant how much "it" was. You know, in a sort of nonchalant, I don't really think I'll buy it so you'd better make it cheap to see if you can tempt me kind of way. She shrugged her shoulders and suggested five bucks so I took her home - the little girl that is, not the assistant. I figured she might be better off staying behind to sweep her floor.

Now she's driving me cray cray! (see how hip and groovy I am with the latest catch phrases. Yup, I'm a real happening chick). So many questions:
Who is she?
Who knitted her cardi?
Who is Daniel?
Why did he have to slap his name on her pink cardi in such an in-your-face fashion?
Why didn't he put his last name and why didn't he put a date on it?

So the challenge is out there. Do YOU know the answers to any of these questions? Maybe she'd like to be reunited with herself!

Here's a clue; a sticker on the back that says:

Cirella Fine Art
8 Gayton Close 
Connah's Quay 
Tel: (0244) 814780

Mr Google isn't giving away too much. According to him this is from Wales, which is the other side of the world. How did she get all the way from Wales to end up in a New Zealand junk shop? There's no reference to any "Cirella Fine Art" and if you google map the address, it just looks like a 2 up, 2 down residential property.

Of course, she could just simply be a figment of Danie's imagination and not, in reality, exist at all. So in the meantime, to help put my mind at rest, I shall name her Myfannwy. Incidentally, I wanted to name my youngest daughter Myfannwy and nobody would let me. Sad, eh?

Oh, and as for the costume thing...check out "Party Bods" on Twitter or my blog HERE and all will be revealed (or completely covered up if you happen to be one of my "bods"). And while you're on my Twitter page, feel free to retweet this young lady. As much as I adore her, I'd love to send her home if she wants to go back.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Let's just play it by ear

I've been thinking about ears lately. Partly because I've just gotten over an ear infection, but mostly because my very good friend happens to be an Ear Nurse and has just opened a brand new ear wax removal clinic in Takanini, South Auckland. It's an interesting connection really because I didn't really want my buddy to know about my infection in case he...examined me. I didn't manage to hide it for long and he did exactly that, using his flash $20,000 microscope. I was well impressed with his lovely bedside manner and shiny equipment (ooer!). Anyway, I'm all better and my Nursey friend has had a busy couple of weeks collecting enough ear wax to start his own wax works museum to give Madame Tussaude a run for her money.

I've been following this guy on Facebook and Twitter and am somewhat amused by his choice of cartoons that he's popped up for our entertainment. Little gems such as this:
and this:

Paddington Bear Movie Trailer
Be sure to check out the website: South Auckland Ears and do a search for "South Auckland Ears" on Facebook and Twitter. Like it, follow it and "keep your ear to the ground" for his latest updates.
So I guess there's no need for us to go life being (wait for it) "ear"itable with a build up of wax after all.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

My Derma Wand Review - Warts and All (mostly mine)

I am very easily influenced so perhaps watching infomercials before going to sleep wasn't the best idea. I still remember the first infomercial I ever saw. It was a flower preserver and after half an hour of watching, I wanted that flower preserver more than anything in the world. Sadly I didn't have a credit card back then...or should I say, "thankfully". On reflection, I am the first to admit that the "flower preserver" was nothing more than a box of sand. So...I was understandably skeptical when I saw the infomercial for the Derma Wand. If I was 23 I would have ignored it completely but I've got a number of decades tucked under my belt now. I have children older than 23. I would tell you my age, but let's just say...I'm 23 plus tax. A LOT of tax.

Well these days I do have a carefully managed credit card - I am a grown up after all. So I did it. And, just in case anyone looking at this might be tempted, I figured you might like an honest opinion from someone who paid the big bucks without being paid any bucks at all.

So, here I am 6 weeks ago:
I never noticed before, but my face is not at all symmetrical and my right eye is actually lower than my left. Is this normal? Am I mutated? As far as wrinkles go I have a few, which is probably quite reasonable for a person "around my age". One thing that has always been a pain is the occasional blemish that appears and does nothing but look mean and angry. In my photo (and I really hate pointing this out!), I actually have two on my chin that had stuck around for well over a week before the photo was taken, trying to make me look poxy.

And six weeks later:
IT TURNED MY HAIR PINK!!! Nah, just joshing. I did that. I'm always changing my hair colour, just because I can. I refuse to lay down and be old and boring. Old maybe, but never boring. Anyway, there isn't a miracle face lift and I think my right eye is still a bit lower, BUT...
My skin does feel more toned, some of the lines seem ever so slightly diminished and best of all, this baby zaps zits like a BOSS! I have cheated and put a little mascara on, but other than that, no makeup (I think I have mascara in the first pic too)

I think I'll do a pros and cons paragraph now:

COST: This thing cost me just over $200 NZ. That hurt! (I think that's around $100 US but I'm only guessing). The "$60 instructional DVD" and the "$30 purse" included for free is a bit of a crock but...I got a TWO FOR ONE special! So I've generously given one to my daughter. She's in her 20s so I'll have to watch she doesn't turn the clock back too far or she might turn into a foetus!

TIME: I'll be honest, this takes more than 3 minutes a day. I use it twice a day and it probably takes about 7 minutes each time (give or take a few secs).

NO SHORT CUTS: You still have to use moisturizer so you won't save on your regular skin care regime. You need the moisturizer to help the wand glide over your skin. Mind you, I've always used pretty cheap products so it's not really a biggie for me.

ALSO: Some people might not like the slight smell it emits, the noise it makes or the feel of it if you lift it slightly off your skin (it zaps a little). I don't mind any of this at all.

It's not going to work miracles! If you're 50, you're not likely to look like a 25 year old a couple of months later.

SKIN TONE: My skin feels nice. I can feel that *something* is feeling right. Also, I think it has given my saggy eye a *very slight* lift.

WRINKLES: Just ever so slightly diminished. In my case I think it's helped around my mouth and under my eyes.

BLEMISHES: Now this is where I feel I'm getting my money's worth! If I feel one of those nasty zits approaching, I turn the dial up, follow the instructions on the DVD and, just for good measure, I give it a little extra zap by hovering the wand over it, just off the skin. I do that 3 or 4 times a day if I can. By the next day it goes all shy and embarrassed and is usually gone a couple of days later.

SHARE THE CARE: About once or twice a week I treat my bestie (and sometimes her husband!) to a zap session. It's just nice to be able to pamper someone with something a little different.

SPECIAL DEALS: Watch out for the Two for One deal.

AND NOW...for your entertainment (considering I'm not wearing any makeup in these extreme close up photos), and mostly for your perusal to make your own judgement, here are some more before and after photos:


6 Weeks Later:
Is it me or is my skin just a little less saggy six weeks later. 

6 Weeks

Oh gosh, I wish I'd plucked those stray hairs before I took these photos!

I also figured it might be interesting to try it on just one hand:
"Control" Hand
"Derma" Hand personal verdict is that I'm glad I bought it. I like using it. The price hurt but I did get two for that price. Oh, and just one final word of advice: it works better if you take the cap off before use. Just sayin'...

Monday, January 6, 2014


I've been watching a bit of "Star Trek Enterprise" recently (thanks to my son and daughter for the birthday gift). I've always been a bit of a Trekker. I even had a brief crush on De Forrest Kelly. While everyone else went weak for James T Kirk and his wooden style of speech, I was all a flutter for McCoy's "I'm a doctor Jim, not a bricklayer". And when he fixed Spock with that steely gaze and asked him if he was out of his Vulcan mind, my knees turned to jelly.

But I digress...
When I watched Star Trek as a kid I was flabbergasted by all the cool technology stuff (oops! My thoughts are straying back to Doctor McCoy and his salt and pepper shaker medical instruments). Oh yes, the techno stuff. The touch screen tablets and Skype convos that Jim used decades before they were invented.  That was mind blowing stuff. Then the yuppy bricks (aka mobile phones) came out in the 90s and I knew I'd arrived. I was living in the future - and that was 20 years ago!

So the other night I was watching "Enterprise" and realized that much of their cool toys are quite normal by today's standards. That's when I had my Epiphany. I might not have moved as quickly as Marty McFly and admittedly it has taken me 51 years to get here but (are you ready for this?) I AM A TIME TRAVELER! 

And to think that I get car sick driving to the next suburb.

And here's another thought that might just make your head implode. I mentioned this to our boarder, Miss Giggles and she told me that, according to my logic, EVERYBODY is a time traveler!

Now if I could just work out how to go back a week and take this weeks Lotto numbers with me this could really be useful.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

When stuff looks like other stuff

I rather like the word "doppelganger". Actually, I discovered the word "proclivity" last night and just can't wait to slip that one into conversation in the very near future. So if I'm engaged in conversation with you anytime soon, listen out for it.

But I digress. Doppelganger threw me at first. Mostly because I didn't know how to spell it, and also because I had no idea what it meant. "Doppelganger" popped up on Facebook a few times and, just to show that I got it, I like the post anyway. Eventually I turned to Mr Google for help and he explained that a doppelganger is "a ghostly double of a living person that haunts its living counterpart." To be honest, I only found out the ghostly bit today because that's when "eventually" turned out to be. All this time I'd been under the impression that a doppelganger is a lookalike so for the sake of this post, I'll stick with that.

Okay, this is cool, I've just said "doppelganger" 6 times so far in this post. I wonder how many times I can slip "proclivity" into conversation tomorrow. Anyway, back to the doppelganger (that's 7!), I wonder if I have one out there somewhere?

On a similar vein, I often find myself gazing at things that look like other things. Happens all the time. Here are some examples:
Above is some bird poop that mysteriously landed on the windscreen of my car (see previous blog: for further details). I can clearly make out three faces. The middle face (an ancient Mayan) doesn't look too friendly (or perhaps he's unwell, but wouldn't you be if you'd just come out of a sparrow's butt?) but the face on the right is quite obviously Chewbacca from Star Wars.

Here's a picture of the For Sale sign outside my friend's house:
See the puppy? Over there on the right? It's unmistakable really considering that he takes up half of the sign. He has two big eyes and his mouth is open because he's happy to see me..

Ooooh, I nearly forgot this one! This was taken in a seedy motel in Matakana. Check out the bottom right corner of the top left blue tile:
It's ALICE COOPER!!! (or maybe Ozzie Osbourne with a bat in his mouth. Without his glasses)

Meanwhile, in other news...
I've had younger fosties lately and made the decision to "retire" from my job as a teacher aide at the local high school (stop laughing Smiley! Congratulating me on my retirement in my leaving letter was a misprint I tell you. A MISPRINT!). I'll miss the laughs those kids gave me but at least I have this as a momento:
Pure gold!
Over time I got used to having teen fosties in the house but I think I'll be a pro with the littlies too. As long as I can work Facebook with my toes I know I'll be okay:
On Facebook Chat with R while feeding a baby. Look, no hands!

Sunday, July 29, 2012

The woman is always right...

...even if she's wrong, she's right. Always. So far my Beloved has only learned the basics of his training and has learned to say, "Yes Dear" whenever he seems uncertain of what should be said. It's a start but there's still a way to go. Sunday is church day. Beloved hasn't yet cottoned on to the idea that Sunday is not sleep in day. Sunday is the day that we have to be out of the front door in order to be somewhere at a certain time. He works hard during the week so I suppose a lie in wouldn't do him too much harm once in a while. What isn't good for his health however, is when he slips out the door, backs out the car and toots impatiently after I've been organizing kids and had to chase him out of the shower (I think he rather enjoyed that). Today I warned him in no uncertain terms that this would NOT be happening.

It happened.

So today was as good a time as any to teach this man a lesson in husbandly etiquette. As I made my way to the car I *politely* expressed my annoyance. The correct response should have been "Sorry Dear. You're right. It was very rude of me. I shan't let it happen again".
I NEED to get one of these for Beloved!
He laughed. That was his mistake.

"I am NOT getting in this car with YOU. I would rather WALK!" There. That should show him I mean business. NOW he would tell me he was sorry and start grovelling for me to get in the car so we could get to church on time.

He laughed again. Oh crap. Now I have to start walking.
Husbands are very much like children. One must carry through with a threat for them to be properly trained. So I started walking.
 Any minuted now he's going to pull up beside me and BEG me to get in the car.
Sure enough, Beloved stopped the car..."Get in!"
 What? That's not begging. That's a command!  So I thrust my double A chest out, threw my nose in the air and waved him on. HE DROVE OFF!!!

So Plan A had fallen to pieces. Fortunately, since Church is a 4.5km walk uphill, I had a Plan B. My friend R lives just around the corner and she's always late for church...except for today.

Plan C: Start walking. This is when I became immensely grateful that I was wearing my Chuck Taylors - only the coolest shoes ever.

Plan C had a hitch. The main route and the church are separated by a motorway. There is a bridge crossing the motorway...and I am scared of heights.
 I spent a good 40 minutes psyching myself up but when I saw it my fears took over. To be fair, this was NOT part of Plan A or Plan B. I crossed the road. I crossed the road again. I started to cry. I texted R to subtly let her know where I was. Knowing my phobia, she kindly offered to come and get me. Of course I assumed (wrongly) she'd read between the lines when I replied "No".

So I was stuck at the bridge, too scared to cross. I contemplated turning back and actually said out loud: "Well, I guess only God can rescue me now". And then...God reminded me that He likes me. I have lived in Rewa for 25 years and never knew that there was a walkway under the bridge (probably because it was only built two years ago). I don't have an actual photo of this walkway, but to me it looked something like this:
I'm pretty sure I heard the Hallelujah Chorus as I made my way along the golden path in the complete opposite direction to church (hey, it got me on the other side of that Bridge of Horror and I was able to get back onto the right street eventually).

I got to church. I was a little (a LOT) late. I was tired. My feet hurt. But I still had the last word when I saw Beloved, "Well? Have you learned your lesson?"

He laughed. I didn't.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Feel my butt

Not the best title I could have come up with for this post but this is what I finished up saying to anyone and everyone after I'd been to Denny's on Thursday night. It was not my fault that I wet my pants. I blame Coronation Street.

My weekly treat is to indulge in an ice cream sundae with my friend R. We normally have our girlie night on a Wednesday but this week we had to reschedule to Thursday - Corrie night. Usually, we both have strawberry flavoured sauce but on this occasion, I demanded chocolate. I'd just had words with my Beloved and I wasn't in the best of moods.  Can you believe that his final parting shot to me as I stormed out the door was, "What exactly IS a neanderthal?" I rest my case! R's beloved didn't benefit from my mood when I swung by to grab his wife either. His fault for having testosterone probably but I'm sure I can make it up to him at some point without actually having to actually admit that I was at fault for chewing his ears off.

Anyway, it was Thursday and I was sacrificing television history for a chocolate flavoured ice cream sundae. Being more than 18 months behind in NZ, we are only just up to the 50th anniversary tram crash (Street fans will understand the significance of this).

Anyway, I'm at Denny's with R and Corrie comes on their telly. Of course there's no sound or even subtitles, but that didn't stop me from being completely distracted from everything that was going on around me. I didn't even notice that R was sniggering and snapping pics of me staring at the screen behind her, completely missing my gaping mouth with my spoon. And no, you will not be seeing those pics here! Instead, here is a picture of a cute baby with slightly less ice cream smooshed into her face:

I thought I was doing rather well myself, being very discreet and making the right noises to what I thought was conversation. I'd barely noticed the nice young waiter bringing us full glasses of water. Suddenly, Fiz Stape flashed up on the screen in full birthing mode. Now, I've had four kids and can relate to this:
And THAT is how my drink went flying across the table, splashing nearby patrons before landing on the seat beside me. And yet somehow not a skerrick of the wet stuff went anywhere near my snap happy friend. I didn't want to make a scene (really??) so I sat frozen to my vinyl seat. Actually, the water had somehow travelled across, seeped under my butt and I was now STUCK to to my seat. Who knew that water had a sense of direction? Defying all the laws of gravity it began to work it's way from under my butt and up towards the front of my legs. It was all very dodgy- but probably not as questionable as a middle-aged woman holed up in the Ladies Room with her butt firmly positioned to catch the airflow of the hand dryer. I really should have remembered to close the door.
It didn't dry my butt OR give me any of the bacon promised in the second picture!