Aren't they lovely!
By the time I had finished unpacking it all, I felt as though I knew their previous owner.
Thankyou Mary- Lou, they'll have a good home with me.
Friday, December 19, 2008
For Mary Lou.
A month or so ago my friend Mindy, knowing my love of vintage jewelry, sent me a great big boxful of things that were her mother's.
Aren't they lovely!
By the time I had finished unpacking it all, I felt as though I knew their previous owner.
Thankyou Mary- Lou, they'll have a good home with me.
Aren't they lovely!
By the time I had finished unpacking it all, I felt as though I knew their previous owner.
Thankyou Mary- Lou, they'll have a good home with me.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Different types of helping.
A lot of people that I deal with on a daily basis are related to my son's medical care. Some of them are just 'clock-on, clock-off' kinda employees. Others really love their work, and will go out of their way to help you out.
I've had two of the latter this week- one of them has made me glow with gratitude and pleasure, the other has brought out a lack of graciousness that I never knew I had in me.
The good one went like this- one of my son's medical people rang me while I was grocery shopping on Monday morning. She had just realized that if I signed a particular form my son and I would be in line for a small remuneration on fees and things. All good, except there was no way I was going to be able to actually get to her for about a week (week from hell). So she says, wait right there, I'll come to you. So, in the middle of a work day, she leaves her office, negotiates the crowded carpark of a big hospital, and drives 20 minutes to meet me outside a supermarket so I can sign my name on something. Thereby getting me a financial bonus that I never even would have known about if she hadn't gone looking for me. Without me asking!
How sweet is that! Thankyou Rhiannon, you made my world just a little bit better.
The bad one is trickier. My son has a terrific physiotherapist. Lovely young guy, really smart and nice and utterly dedicated to his job. The Kid has progressed to a point where he does more work in an actual gym, than in a physio studio. So, at the moment, the physio is setting up a new program for him, and he told me that he wants me to take over supervision of it. I am willing, but not best pleased. I don't enjoy gyms. Especially the mixed ones. But hey- whatever is best for the Kid. I'll suck it up if I have to, is what I'm saying.
The thing is, he has started to pester me a bit about my participation in this. As in, 'you should come in your gym clothes, too, and do the exercises as well' and ' you know, if you do the same set after the Kid, that is the perfect amount of rest for him to have before he does his second set', and , my personal favourite, ' why don't you see if you can lift these weights comfortably?'
I'm not stupid. I understand the subtext here. He is trying to help, but what he is really saying is
Get off your lazy arse and do some exercise, you fat cow!
Its true, I could use a little exercise. But I resent being coerced like this. If he came to me and said "Gee, your butt is the size of a planet these days, don't you think the occasional jog round the block would be a good idea', I would probably slap him, but I'd agree and get to work on some serious regular cardio.
But this namby pamby 'trying-to-get-me-to-do-stuff-without-actually-saying-it' is pissing me off.
He's right, but he's still pissing me off.
Helpfulness- sometimes ya love it, sometimes ya don't.
I've had two of the latter this week- one of them has made me glow with gratitude and pleasure, the other has brought out a lack of graciousness that I never knew I had in me.
The good one went like this- one of my son's medical people rang me while I was grocery shopping on Monday morning. She had just realized that if I signed a particular form my son and I would be in line for a small remuneration on fees and things. All good, except there was no way I was going to be able to actually get to her for about a week (week from hell). So she says, wait right there, I'll come to you. So, in the middle of a work day, she leaves her office, negotiates the crowded carpark of a big hospital, and drives 20 minutes to meet me outside a supermarket so I can sign my name on something. Thereby getting me a financial bonus that I never even would have known about if she hadn't gone looking for me. Without me asking!
How sweet is that! Thankyou Rhiannon, you made my world just a little bit better.
The bad one is trickier. My son has a terrific physiotherapist. Lovely young guy, really smart and nice and utterly dedicated to his job. The Kid has progressed to a point where he does more work in an actual gym, than in a physio studio. So, at the moment, the physio is setting up a new program for him, and he told me that he wants me to take over supervision of it. I am willing, but not best pleased. I don't enjoy gyms. Especially the mixed ones. But hey- whatever is best for the Kid. I'll suck it up if I have to, is what I'm saying.
The thing is, he has started to pester me a bit about my participation in this. As in, 'you should come in your gym clothes, too, and do the exercises as well' and ' you know, if you do the same set after the Kid, that is the perfect amount of rest for him to have before he does his second set', and , my personal favourite, ' why don't you see if you can lift these weights comfortably?'
I'm not stupid. I understand the subtext here. He is trying to help, but what he is really saying is
Get off your lazy arse and do some exercise, you fat cow!
Its true, I could use a little exercise. But I resent being coerced like this. If he came to me and said "Gee, your butt is the size of a planet these days, don't you think the occasional jog round the block would be a good idea', I would probably slap him, but I'd agree and get to work on some serious regular cardio.
But this namby pamby 'trying-to-get-me-to-do-stuff-without-actually-saying-it' is pissing me off.
He's right, but he's still pissing me off.
Helpfulness- sometimes ya love it, sometimes ya don't.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Trifari on chocolate brown
This is one of my favourite brooches. I suppose it cost me a lot when I bought it, but I did buy it quite some time ago, and since then my definition of 'a lot' has changed quite a bit. I like its spidery solidness, and like most 1950's Trifari it is remarkably well made.
Friday, November 28, 2008
A Brief Descent Into Christmas Hell.
I needed to return some library books this morning, and as I also had to get some new batteries for my shiny new camera I thought I'd just 'quickly pop into the shopping centre' next door.
Hah!
For 'quickly pop in', read 'be almost smothered to death by freakishly aggressive Christmassyness'.
Good. Grief.
Now, I do get a kick out of Christmas. There's nothing in the world like having your most loved thing almost taken from you to make you appreciate a celebration- any celebration!
I can dig it, is what I'm saying. The lights, the pretty decorations, the food, the presents- none of these are bad things in and of themselves.
But I am FED UP with having Christmas forcibly rammed down my throat! Its not even December yet, and the caroles are deafening, the tinsel is blinding, and everywhere you look there are Christmas sales and suggestions and, my least favourite phrase- stocking stuffers! I suppose you could always give these cheap, instant gratification, usually plastic items another name- how about 'landfill'?
Anyhoo, I have decided to spare myself further aggravation. As I lurched out of the sliding doors and clung, panting, to a lamp post, I vowed that this is the first and last visit I make to a shopping centre until after New Year. Luckily I don't have to 'do' Christmas this year (someone else's turn), so there's not an awful lot I have to get. I am making the vast majority of gifts (and I will post pics once I figure out how), and the rest I shall buy at a wonderful Sunday market not far from here. And I think my stock of decorations will do for another year.
So- problem solved. Except I'm not really sure how I'm going to manage to knit the video camera The Kid wants.
Hah!
For 'quickly pop in', read 'be almost smothered to death by freakishly aggressive Christmassyness'.
Good. Grief.
Now, I do get a kick out of Christmas. There's nothing in the world like having your most loved thing almost taken from you to make you appreciate a celebration- any celebration!
I can dig it, is what I'm saying. The lights, the pretty decorations, the food, the presents- none of these are bad things in and of themselves.
But I am FED UP with having Christmas forcibly rammed down my throat! Its not even December yet, and the caroles are deafening, the tinsel is blinding, and everywhere you look there are Christmas sales and suggestions and, my least favourite phrase- stocking stuffers! I suppose you could always give these cheap, instant gratification, usually plastic items another name- how about 'landfill'?
Anyhoo, I have decided to spare myself further aggravation. As I lurched out of the sliding doors and clung, panting, to a lamp post, I vowed that this is the first and last visit I make to a shopping centre until after New Year. Luckily I don't have to 'do' Christmas this year (someone else's turn), so there's not an awful lot I have to get. I am making the vast majority of gifts (and I will post pics once I figure out how), and the rest I shall buy at a wonderful Sunday market not far from here. And I think my stock of decorations will do for another year.
So- problem solved. Except I'm not really sure how I'm going to manage to knit the video camera The Kid wants.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Welcome to GoodGirl Airlines, please fasten your seatbelts. :-)
So I've been threatening to start my own blog for ages. To all of you who encouraged me to do so.....
Ta da!!!
I've just started learning how to drive this thing, so bear with me. I have no natural mad computer skillz, I'm afraid, so it might be a while before I make a proverbial butt-print in my new cyber sofa.
So I'm going to just start with my day, if thats ok with everyone.
The Kid had an MRI today. No big deal, just one of the regularly scheduled ones. And a series of small miracles occurred.
Did we have to wait for 4o minutes in the waiting room? No we didn't.
Did it take an hour longer than it was supposed to? No it didn't.
Did someone try and bullshit us about the time it was going to take to get the results? Nope.
Was the cafe out of the super-yum potato wedges that we regularly have on one of these visits? Not at all.
And to top it off, there was a little jewelry stall set up in the lobby.
Did I buy something? OF COURSE I DID!
So, y'know, all in all, not a bad day.
Ta da!!!
I've just started learning how to drive this thing, so bear with me. I have no natural mad computer skillz, I'm afraid, so it might be a while before I make a proverbial butt-print in my new cyber sofa.
So I'm going to just start with my day, if thats ok with everyone.
The Kid had an MRI today. No big deal, just one of the regularly scheduled ones. And a series of small miracles occurred.
Did we have to wait for 4o minutes in the waiting room? No we didn't.
Did it take an hour longer than it was supposed to? No it didn't.
Did someone try and bullshit us about the time it was going to take to get the results? Nope.
Was the cafe out of the super-yum potato wedges that we regularly have on one of these visits? Not at all.
And to top it off, there was a little jewelry stall set up in the lobby.
Did I buy something? OF COURSE I DID!
So, y'know, all in all, not a bad day.
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![Apricot Rose](<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21110923@N08/3121783210/" title="Apricot Rose, studded with pearls. by goodgirlsaturday, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3242/3121783210_58ce51a62c_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Apricot Rose, studded with pearls." /></a>)
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