Category Archives: Humour

Not A Very Willing Santa Pup!

This afternoon, I pulled out my camera, donned my elf outfit and dressed the pups up in their Christmas outfits. I  never take a snap just for the hell of it. So, I should’ve known it was going to take more than spontaneous enthusiasm, to pull off this quasi professional photo shoot.

No doubt, you’ve also seen those uber cute dogs in Christmas catalogues. You know, the ones with huge, puppy dog eyes dressed up as Santa, elves, reindeer and Christmas trees. Don’t they just make your heart melt? Melt enough to buy your unsuspecting dog an entire new wardrobe.

Well, I’ll blame my daughter for falling victim this year… and the pups.

DSC_6898

The Micro Pups Last Week.

Besides, who wouldn’t be tempted to dress up two, six week old pups, especially in identical outfits? Well, I would’ve done the matching outfits,if only the store had delivered. As it was, we had a Santa and an elf. In addition to the micro pups, we also have our older pups to dress up in the Christmas spirit.  While they’ve grown up very quickly, they’re still only 4 months old and this will be their first Christmas. So, who wouldn’t want to do something special?!! The shop didn’t have their size and so we bought a Santa hat for them and a Christmas Tree outfit for Lady, who could well be an XL. Of course, she blames that on the fur coat, but we know better!

Such are the best laid plans of mice, men and me. As we rushed through the door with our grandiose plans, no one had briefed any of the pups, and they weren’t convinced. If they can it eat it…If they can chew it….If they can chase it…They’re in. “Wearing”…Now, that’s another story, and they made it quite clear, THAT wasn’t part of their contract!

DSC_7028

Our lack of planning didn’t help. We burst through the front door and before developing any plan of attack, our daughter was trying to guide little Dobbie’s paw through the leg of the Santa suit and it wasn’t going on. Getting stuck on claws and being too narrow for even his skinny puppy legs, it was a beast to put on Dobbie was NOT amused!! Needless to say, that was a fail.

DSC_7003.JPG

 

Zac, our 4 month old Border Collie X was next up. He was wearing a pseudo-luxurious Santa hat, which was attached via an elastic band. The elastic is a critical element of the hat’s design, as you’ll see from the photographic evidence. Well, he was wearing the hat for a few seconds. A very smart and innovative dog with a real gift for turning anything in into a chew toy or something to chase, he sat there shaking his head watching the white pom pom swinging backwards and forwards and trying snap at it with all his might.

Rosie Claws

This thrill didn’t last long as his sister, Rosie, soon stepped in and snapped hold of the hat. Santa’s hat was a red rag to a pair of voracious jaws, and it disappeared out into the backyard. Their latest prize.

Yoda Elf

Meanwhile, I managed to get Yoda into his elf suit without too much difficulty, and put him on top of the green wheelie bin…my makeshift studio. With the backyard looking like a moonscape scattered with chewed up detritis, the bin lid almost looked glamorous by comparison. These shots weren’t there yet, but showed potential.

Obviously, I need to be more “strategic”, and have now put this one down to “practice”.

Next time, I’ll stick to the Scotto motto and “Be Prepared”.

How have you gone photographing pets in costumes? Any success? Any tips? I’d love to hear from you!

xx Rowena

PS I should mention that the pups were under close supervision wearing these costumes. It doesn’t take much for puppy mischief to become tragic.

 

 

The Majestic Plastic Bag – A Mockumentary.

 

Last night, my daughter flagged my attention wanting to show me something on U-Tube well after bedtime. I was in the middle of something or other requiring all my concentration. Of course, I promised to check it out today but somehow closed the tab, lost the link,  and I won’t mention anything else I might’ve got stuck into today, instead of being an attentive Mum. Well, that is other than spending most of the day asleep due to a weird sleep virus we’ve been fighting off.

Anyway, as Calvin Coolidge famously said: “Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence”, and if there’s any being on this planet who knows the power of persistence, it’s kids….”Muhum!!!” Failing success on that front, she frequently resorts to Plan B…my mother!

So, of course, when she asked me if I’d checked out the hilarious plastic bag clip tonight, I cringed and slunk into my chair  and gracefully resigned myself to the inevitable. Thre was no escape, no more excuses or wriggling out of it this time. Facebook, blog, research, emails were all put on hold as I watched, laughed and absorbed its subliminal, environmental messages and decided you’d love to watch it too.

With it’s mock David Attenborough-esque format, this documentary follows the life cycle of the plastic bag from the supermarket carpark into the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, where it finally “dies”. Yet, although this mockumentary is very funny, it uses humour to share a disturbing environmental message about how plastic bags are impacting on our animals, waterways and oceans in a format which is hopefully spreading faster than the common cold through the World Wide Web.

Indeed, that’s why I had to share it with you.

xx Rowena

The Cinderella Project – Friday Fictioneers.

“Meet me at noon outside Bloomingdales,” he said.

Perhaps, I’m the only person on Earth, who’s never heard of Bloomingdales. Being an outback Australian research scientist, I thought it was a park…not a shopping Mecca dedicated to greed and excess. Why would he want to meet ME there? Me… “Professor Cow Dung”? I was in New York to present a research paper, NOT to go shopping. We might’ve had a spark, but there’s no way I’m swapping my gorgeously shitty gumboots for a pair of sexy glass slippers for any Prince Charming. I’m no one’s Cinderella.

“Taxi!”


This has been a contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by  Rochelle Wishoff-Fields

When I first saw this week’s prompt, my immediate response was to think about the glitz and glamour, and then did a U-turn. Have any of you seen the Australian movie: Crocodile Dundee, starring Paul Hogan? That came to mind as well and I liked that resolute Australian character who knows who they are and refuses to conform or sell out. Even knee-deep in cow dung, they’re content.

Hope you’re having a great week. We’ve welcomed two Border Collie x Kelpie pups into our family and we’re currently fostering two kelpie pups…Dobbie and Yoda. They’re all asleep at the moment, but our lounge room and backyard are scenes of carnage. They’re chewing everything in sight, including each other but are so cute and so fun. We love them to bits.

xx Rowena

Family Life Lessons in a Game of Cards.

Today, we had a family game of three-handed 500 and had so much fun. Moreover, we even invented a new lexicon, which I’ll blame on the cards rather than the players. They could be incredibly uncooperative!

Although playing cards might sound like an activity for a rainy day, it was windy outside and we could even see the Spring allergens in the air with the naked eye. So, we were hibernating inside. Moreover, it’s not only school holidays here, but also a long weekend. While for some, this would signal an increase in activity, for us it meant doing as close to nothing as possible, which as it turned out, didn’t even come close. Our daughter needed to be picked up, and my husband and son went off to see a movie together. So, we aren’t such miserable sloths after all.

Anyway, with our daughter in Sydney, that left the rest of us playing three-handed 500. I know I’ve played this before, but it never seemed so brutal and unforgiving before. Today, it seemed that the person who won the bidding and played out the game was almost destined to fry and burn, and very promptly end up in negative territory. Naturally, the player most likely to hit rock bottom, was Mr 13 whose teenage love of taking risks got him into considerable trouble, which we ultimately dubbed: “The Minus Club”.

Even now, I still remember what it was like to play 500 as a 13 year old with my friends at school. I still haven’t forgotten the allure of winning the kitty…the curiosity. It had to be a pot of gold and I couldn’t possibly let anyone else pick it up. It was mine. Of course, it helped that we didn’t score our games. So, it didn’t matter if I went backwards faster than a speeding bullet.

However, with my husband, being one of those mathematical counting types with a mental calculator stuck inside his head, after a few practice rounds, we were scoring. Well, HE was scoring. I was jotting down some priceless family gems,  and as this game progressed, the pickings were ripe.

Now, this takes me back to Mr 13 who has been asking me to play 500 for weeks, but didn’t really know the rules. Moreover, he has no idea just how brutal a three-handed game can be, when your rivals pair up and you’re fighting for life on your pat malone.

So, when asked which suit he was going to bid on, he replied: “I’m playing eenie meanie miney mo”.

That didn’t sound like a good start.

Then again, I somehow managed to bid the wrong suit. I blamed that on the coffee not kicking in.

Meanwhile, my husband who is very difficult to beat at cards, Scrabble and chess, was having a bad day. We hadn’t taught our son Masare, so even though he probably had great hands for that, we just stuck with conventional bids. So, my husband’s gems for today included:

“Wanna play snap?”

“Who dealt this mess?”

“Blerk! Waiter bring me a bucket”.

My husband only bid about once throughout this game, which lasted a couple of hours what with my son and I returning time and time again to the minus club and my husband’s score creeping along at a rate of 10 -30 points a hand. That made for a long and very slow road to 500.

I reached my PB or personal best when I romped home getting 10 hearts. Those 250 points just managed to get me out of the sin bin at the time.

Anyway, all of this is leading me towards the grand finale…

I was the Champion!

Of course, I immediately jumped around doing the victory dance, singing “we are the champions”. Not because I’m a bad sport. Rather, it’s a rare moment that I beat my husband at anything. As for the whole thing of needing to beat my 13 year old son instead of letting him win, I say it was good for him. Will put hairs on his chest, as my Dad used to say. One of the most important things you can do as a parent, is to teach your child how to win and lose gracefully. Moreover, as he struggles to beat my husband and I, we’re training him to compete well against his peers. This is his training ground.

Yet, at the same time, nothing beats winning.

Well, that is unless you’re writing some mamby pamby piece about families spending quality time together and learning how to interact and communicate when devices are switched off. Then, it would all just be about bonding, creating memories and you wouldn’t need to keep the score.

Humph! We must be talking about someone else’s family!

Do you have any games you play to the death in your family? What are they? 

xx Rowena

A Walking Tour of Wollombi, Australia.

Welcome to Wollombi, NSW.

After what turned out to be a very convoluted route, which my husband has called “driving to Wollombi via Darwin”, the little red car and I pulled into Wollombi and I did the rest on foot.

In case you haven’t read the  preamble, I’d driven to Wollombi to see historic St Michael’s Church of the Archangel, and also to steep myself in Wollombi’s historic ambiance. It was no exaggeration to say that arriving in Wollombi, felt like stepping out of a time capsule into the 19th Century and I loved that. Love, loved, loved it. It’s so good that some places have in a sense been by-passed, fallen asleep and been spared from the crappinization process. That’s what we loved about so much of Tasmania and it was great to find that so close to home.

Obviously, Wollombi  isn’t a huge metropolis. So, you won’t be surprised that I spotted the Church straight away, but it did feel a bit funny to actually see it in person for the first time, and it was much smaller than expected. Wondered how you could fit both sides of a good Catholic family inside back in the days before TV. I guess they were probably used to squishing in.

DSC_6718

On 1st April, 1891, my Great Great Grandfather, William Henry Gardiner, married his second wife, Jane Ann Lynch from Glendon Grove, Wollombi at St Michael’s. This press excerpt provides a great impression of their special day and I can just hear those bells ringing out:

“On Tuesday last our little town, usually so dull and quiet, was the scene of much excitement, and that eventful day will long be remembered as a red-letter day in the annals of our history. At the early hour of eight o’clock the tolling of the bell at St. Michael’s Church announced that some ceremonies of a very rare occurrence were about to take place there, and immediately crowds of spectators could be seen wending their way to it. Half an hour later two brides (sisters), the Misses Lynch, of Glendon Grove, were standing before the hymeneal altar in the above-mentioned place. The elder, Miss Jane Lynch, who for some years has been residing near West Maitland, was united in the bonds of matrimony to Mr. William Gardiner, a resident of West Maitland, and afterwards her sister, Miss Agnes Lynch, was joined to Mr. Joseph Tripp, of Aberdeen. Each was assisted by two bridesmaids, the former by her sister and niece, Miss Teresa Lynch and Miss Bourke, and the latter by Míss Tripp and Miss Katie Bourke. The Rev. Father Flanagan, who came here the previous evening from Cessnock, performed both ceremonies, and afterwards celebrated Mass, during which the choir, of which Miss Agnes Lynch was a prominent and efficient member, sang some beautiful selections, and as the long procession was leaving the church, Miss M. Kenny played the Wedding March with great effect. On the previous evening the ladies of the Altar Society, as a last tribute of respect to one of their members, decorated with artistic skill the church and altar the walls being hung with magnificent wreaths and festoons. At ten o’clock a start was made for the brides’ residence, and as tho long train o£ buggies passed through the streets the firing of guns and ringing of bells could be heard in every direction.” Tuesday 7th April 1891The Maitland Advertiser & Hunter River Advertiser pg 7.

DSC_6709

The Forge, Wollombi.

Next to the Church, I spotted an intriguing looking building called: “The Forge” and I couldn’t quite make out whether it was a home or a shop. There was a mannequin tied up to a telegraph pole out the front and I’m not sure whether she was waiting for a bus, a ghost or an alien landing, but she’d definitely been heading somewhere before she’d been detained. Macca, the Proprietor, invited me in, even though it was closed and let me take photos, which I really appreciated as this place really felt like home to me. Perhaps, I should be concerned about that, and book myself in with a shrink. However, I love maccabre and I love how random objects can be thrown together in a space, creating a licorice allsorts of possibilities in my head. It also reminded me of exploring under both my grandparents’ houses where things weren’t thrown out, but simply “retired’. What gave this place the edge over your garden-variety vintage store, was Macca’s artworks peering out inbetween old dolls and vintage mannekins a few Sunbeam Mixmasters, books and salvaged farm equipment. He’d also arranged things in intriguing combinations, which ranged from maccabre to down right hilarious.

DSC_6665

Naturally, this place which seemed like a kind of “Mecca to Displaced Euphemora”, deserves its own post and so I’ll be back with more photos.

Meanwhile, I’m heading off to the cemetery. William Henry Gardiner wasn’t buried here, but Jane Lynch’s family is well-represented. I love exploring and photographing old cemeteries like this, especially capturing haunting  shadows lurking on tombstones and the like. They get you thinking.

Anyway, I was delighted to spot this magpie sitting on top of a Celtic Cross, especially when it didn’t dive bomb me as I approached. It’s Spring here, and I’d already been warned about a dive-bombing magpie earlier on the trip and was on guard. I know I often overinflate the dangers of Australian wildlife, but these swopping magpies are beyond a joke.

I walked back to the car via the grocery store and old courthouse.

DSC_6779.JPG

By now, it was approaching 5.00PM and impending darkness. It was a windy drive home through Wombat country and I needed to be alert. I was also concerned about having a possible encouter with a kangaroo. They come out and feed on dusk, and let’s just say they’re best avoided.

However, I popped into the local pub for an apple juice and toilet stop before leaving. I very rarely go into pubs and they’re not my scene. However, I really loved the country feel of this one, which felt very authentic and real. Names had been carved into the tables outside. Farm utes were parked out the front. I felt surprisingly relaxed and would’ve loved to stay for a yarn.

I am already planning my next trip and am even looking into camping there with friends. However, next time, no detours. It’s just a 70 minute drive “up the road”.

xx Rowena

 

Heart On A Plate – Friday Fictioneers

Frank had his routine. Saturday morning, it was always golf, followed by bacon and eggs. Betty would’ve liked to switch things round a bit. Go to a cafe. But no! Nobody changed, challenged or questioned Frank’s sacred routine. It wasn’t written down, but imprinted in his DNA.

At precisely 11.12 AM Frank walked in the door, pulled out the Financial Review and poured his Twining’s English Breakfast Tea.

“There’s a hole in my bread.”

Clearly, Frank had failed the Rorschach Test.

“It’s my heart,” Joan replied. “It’s empty”.

Frank’s eyes almost popped out of his head. Joan had been to Agent Provocateur.

……..

This has been another contribution for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight.

The Rorschach test is a psychological test in which subjects’ perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed using psychological interpretation, complex algorithms, or both. Some psychologists use this test to examine a person’s personality characteristics and emotional functioning.

Agent Provocateur is a very expensive brand of lingerie.

xx Rowena

 

 

Ed Sheeran & the Jackpot.

Despite my meek and mild exterior, you would’ve been mighty suspicious if you’d followed my car last Thursday. Indeed, even you, would’ve called the Police, the Terrorism Hotline, or just the usual number for “Suspicious Weirdos Hanging Out in Carparks”. In scenes reminiscent of Jamie Lee Curtis in True Lies, surely Mummy couldn’t be a spy?

Of course not! As usual, reality doesn’t live up to the hype. That’s probably a good thing, even if it doesn’t make for a great story.

That said, I was a woman on two missions.

As for Mission 2, I’ve already explained that I was picking up puppies. Yes, that strange plastic contraption you thought was an alien spaceship, was a pet carrier.

As for Mission One, that was purely about “the cash”.

For the last eternity, our local radio station has been holding a $20,000 Ed Sheeran Cash Giveaway. You just had to work out what Ed Sheeran would make for breakfast, AND get through to the station. With Google to the rescue, the first part seemed easy. However, getting through was the hard part. Of course, every listener, along with their dog and cat, was feverishly trying, and the radio station was only taking two calls a day. Fueling the frustration, there were many repeated guesses and wasted opportunities…Drats!

A bystander on my daily Mum Runs, the competition had been going on around me. Then, I started to wonder why it hadn’t gone off. Ed Sheeran might be a rock star, but surely no breakfast is too much for Google?

I picked myself up and got to work. I could do this. I had just as much chance as anyone else, and plenty of motivation… a $20,000 pot of gold parked at the end of the rainbow. That was definitely worth waking up for!

So, I took a deep breath. Tried to think like Ed Sheerin, and consulted Google.

Humph! I read all about Ed Sheerin pairing up with Jamie Oliver and promoting healthy eating. I found a lot of annoying references to his music. Geez. Who cares about all of that? I just wanted to know what he makes for breakfast.

Meanwhile, the radio station posted a list of past guesses.

By this stage, I was hooked, but Google wasn’t cooperating. Nothing was coming up.

So, I entered a more direct question: “What does Ed Sheerin make for breakfast?”

Finally, Google delivered. In fact, the answer was so glaringly obvious, I wondered why it hadn’t been guessed before.

Ed Sheerin eats Sheerios. His face was even on the box. Indeed, even his fans are called “Sheerios”.

This had to be it. That $20,000 was mine.

Now, I just had to get through. Time it exactly right and be THE CALLER!!

Not so easy. Of course, the segment came up somewhere in the middle of the busy after school run, and I couldn’t just sit by the radio and wait. Rather, I had to pick my daughter up from the station. She always needs something. Is hungry. Needs eyeliner, foundation or lipstick. More clothes. Going straight home, is never an option…even when SHE needs to be somewhere. I also had to fill a script. A script I couldn’t do without. Ouch. the pressure was killing me. I was so wound up. Why couldn’t life wait? Go away? Didn’t it know, I could be $20,000 richer and fly to paradise?

Phew! We made it back to the car in time and I drove home as fast as I could, while getting caught up in the usual traffic. I had to win. I was running backwards and forwards in my head, struggling to remember quite when the segment went off. Was it before or after the news? Should I ring towards the end of this song? Or the next? The timing was critical. I thought if I could just channel my thoughts hard enough, that we’d get through. I even prayed.

Of course, all missions of any worth, are besieged by obstacles and challenges. In this case, we don’t have a radio in the house. So, once we were home, my daughter was out in the car listening, while I was inside… both on continuous redial. Much to our surprise, the phone actually rang twice, then rang out. Hopes up, hopes down. Engaged signals persisting.

Through all this madness, I remembered calling up the radio station “back in the day”, with the home phone at full extension in my bedroom. Back then, the phone was primitive with a rotary dial, no redial and your fingers really got a workout. However, my wins included Sting’s Island of the Blue Turtles. For awhile there, it was like I had a direct line. I always got through.

No such luck with Ed Sheerin.

That’s what Calvin Coolidge forgot to say. That in many situations, you’re not the only one with persistence, and the battle’s intense. Indeed, in this instance, I’m surprised the switchboard didn’t blow up.

phone rotary dial

Actually, I’m getting pretty suss about that switchboard. Indeed, I don’t think they have a switchboard at all. Rather, they must have an old-fasioned, beige rotary dial sitting there like the bat phone? Something so low-tech, it’s underwhelming. Otherwise, why are they always engaged? Moreover, why don’t they put us on hold, listening to the radio?!!

Obviously, I’ve done a lot of plotting and planning trying to win this thing, but unfortunately, it all came to nothing. Someone else got through with another incorrect guess…”Welsh Rarebit”.

Ooh! The frustration! By now, even the radio station was getting desperate. There were promises of another clue in the morning. Promises that it’s going to go off. However, it was all too hard. I hung up my hat and poured myself a bowl of Sheerios.

Later that day, I heard they’d had a winner. A winner who’d got it wrong.

How could Ed Sheerin sell out on all his loyal Sheerios, and make Cumberland Sausages for breakfast?!!

I don’t know, but trust me! I’ll be having words with Ed Sheeran!

I might even write him a song.

By the way, in case you haven’t seen it before, here’s a clip of when the radio station came to my house:

Rabbit & Julie visit Rowena & Family

xx Rowena