french toast & an important warning

I can't quite put my finger on why, but i feel that these two pictures go together.

Pierre, was the little man I found in my french toast one morning and the warning sign was spotted at 'Giant Steps' in Healsville. Good call guys - good call indeed! (Good wine too.)
Don't get me wrong - I love kids - but I work in retail - in a store full of breakable things - and apparently a great place for hide and seek or a tantrum - get the picture?

e.

keen as mustard

Bananas are really expensive which means I refuse to buy them, which means I can't enjoy banana and nutella toasties with raisin bread, which means my fruit intake is at a record low - sorry mum!


This also means that bananas are but one golden hued item that will not grace your screen via this blog post - aside from their previous mention. 


What you will see is sunshine to your eye-balls - but sunnies are not required, unless that's part of your 'look' - I do not know these things.


Don't get confused with the title - the mustard I refer to is more of a dijon rather than a wholegrain and it's the colour... not the texture. Ok? Are we good? Onward we go.

cambridge satchel from [bohemia]
the short-sighted twins from [cat rabbit]
some gold for your ears [urbanears]
outfit from Winter 2011 collection [gorman]
lovely lockets from [so little time]

I know some of you feel that a lemony look washes you out but I promise, even just a smidge (underwear counts) will make the world of difference to this week's happy days.


What's the matter - you too yella?
(sorry couldn't help myself!)


e.

a toy story

No this post does not involve a spaceman toy with a fake laser nor does it detail a lassoing hero with pull-cord conversational feature. This is the story that pixar did not tell me. It is one I was pressed to unravel myself.

It has taken the earth nearly two times to travel around our sun for me to make this discovery - which could sound like a feat of great brilliance - there I am in some dank room lit by a small flickering lamp, hunched over a crooked desk, trawling through information day after day in the hope of reaching the 'ah-ha' moment. Sadly, it was more a case of a forgotten venture. A toy that fell between the chest of drawers and my basket of bags - its identity lost in translation - its presence in my life lost to my love of bags.

You see, this funny little fluffy creature was given to me by a blind woman in Kazakhstan. The oompa-loompa orange face partnered with the brown mickey mouse ears baffled me... but who am I to say what's normal, right? A further intrigue is the song that it sings when you press its tummy (clearly a Woody wannabe!). It's all in Russian! Not helpful. At first it was endearing, the song, the oddly cute face, but when the increasingly familiar tune would assail my ears in muffled glory from the depths of my hand luggage at the airport - it was safe to say our relationship was becoming a little strained, nevertheless, I wanted to understand my little friend. I wanted to know what he was singing to me.

Several decidedly slack internet searches when I returned from my trip, revealed nothing. What was I to search for anyway?

A year later on Bloesem, I saw this pic. My breathe was snagged - but the lack of accompanying information on the portrait's subject - left me disinterested once again.

Until now.

I was going to mock-up a wanted poster and ask you, dear blog-reading friends, to do the leg work for me... many hands make light work and all the jazz. But I found something. And then I found everything.

His (or her – gender not specified I don’t think) name is Cheburashka. The sidekick character to a crocodile in a Russian children's show. Apparently the name, Cheburashka, refers to him toppling over all the time. And now that I know his name, I can think of no better address - not because he falls over but because he looks like a Cheburashka - don't you think?

And so ends this tale of my mysterious plush amigo. (or should I say друг?)

Check him out in action [here]

The word for goodbye in Kazakh escapes me but thanks to my very 'aussie' travel buddies, I know that it sounds something like: 'sour bowlings'.

e.

today happiness is...milk

It seems a little odd that we can watch something, see something, hear something and it can make us laugh out loud, or feel a little cosy inside (for definition of cosy see previous post - don't forget the marshmallows!) or even just elicit a smile. It bends my brain matter to think about the cause and effect relationship between a happy thought and the involuntary muscle response that creates a smile. We are a pretty amazing collection of bones and fleshy stuff.


And, if my brain weren't already squished into melon pulp enough, I love how something can on one level just be awesome because of what it is - but then on a whole other level it inspires this happiness (and let's be honest slight jealousy) in me, that comes in the moment of realising someone came up with this intensely bounteous experience for the senses (or single sense, whatever the case may be). And they came up with that because they, unlike anyone else in the world, have experienced years, days and moments in life in a combination that is entirely unique.


Oh mercy... I'm 'wonder-ranting'. Stop me before I break my head!


Oh yes... blog post...back on track. You're sitting there, brow furrowed with more wrinkles than a shirt at the bottom of the ironing pile, saying 'she mentioned milk in the title but...'. Humblest apologies.


Today happiness is:


Milk and it's undeniable eco-conscience. 
This little clip is a love story for the ages - a plea for the planet coupled (pardon the pun) with our society's grandiose heart for the cow juice.
Tissue alert for anyone who is likely to cry over spilt milk. (oh yes! I went there.)

 via Changethethought

So before you go wiping away your milk moustache (or tears) I'd nudge you to think about two things - how awesome this is and how awesome that special person (or persons) is that came up with this. If you're not smiling, please ask the nearest person to check your pulse and then thank the kind stranger for their service to humanity.

e.


P.S. Sorry milkies - I'm a soy lass these days, but have been known to frequent a paddle in dairy town. You are not forgotten.

like a tea cosy for your life

I may just be a few freckles frecklier, a piece of wheat hanging from my mouth and if my hair were long enough it would be loosely pulled into a scraggily plait after my past few days and weekend spent in country Victoria. It's always nice to stretch one's metaphorical arms and legs and get out of sullen suburbia.

Traipsing around the countryside has inspired this post that (in my opinion) is as cosy as a blanket plus a open fire plus a wood cabin plus an attractive young man (replace with lovely lady if you so wish) serenading me/you... oh and marshmallows...don't forget the marshmallows!


Here a few things that I spied that would cosy up life all the more this winter.

Thumbs-up thinking here with two umbrellas - 'we've all been there, love'.
Thanks Garance amazing fashion blogger for that treat.

Soup-er looking tomato soup that I can't wait to whip up myself. Cheers Katie.

And last of all the cosiest looking minimalist abode I ever did see. A nod to Vorstadt 14, for that little gem.

Not feeling warm yet!? For goodness sake, pull your hands inside your sleeves and breathe on them like you did in primary school!


e.

disastrous beauty

Yes, I would be stamping my feet and gritting my teeth just as much as the next person if my flight were grounded due to an ash cloud - I will not deny that for a second.
BUT (yes, you knew it was coming) take a look at why air travel has come to a halt.

There is so much that we cannot hope to understand about the world in which we live. And then in all of its unpredictability something explodes from nowhere - this kind of untamable creativity that bares the fingerprints of the divine.

Can't help but feel like a dazed child in a huge new place - terrified and amazed.

images found [here]

See what I mean? Ahem, some decorum please - your mouth is hanging open.

e.

choose your own adventure [the great blog hiatus]

Questions are being thrown around like footballs in Australia’s backyards and suspicions are mounting. Why has she stopping blogging? Will she ever be back? Is my computer just playing up and I’m missing all the amazing insights into life that I can’t possibly do without while everyone else can see it?

Today, your questions will be answered and you can be the boss of that!

Select your favourite scenario from the two below (because, of course, a good story is always better than the dim reality. A reality that is making itself stand out like a very sore, aching, gross thumb in the list below…so don’t chose that one, okay?).

One:

I was head-hunted by a big corporation (whose name is being withheld due to legal reasons) that wished to use my superior knowledge of childrens’ songs to construct a worldwide movement that involved finding your ‘inner child’. Of course, this company (as so many are) is based in Kazakhstan. I was required to fly there to meet with the managing director and due to the short lead times on the project, I had to drop my things (including my laptop – which subsequently smashed) and head over to the boiled sheep’s head capital of the world.

However, somehow I got lost in transit and ended up in Hawaii where I learnt to make Lais with the locals as I taught them childrens’ songs on the ukulele. My luggage, however, made it to Kazakhstan so I was then forced to spend an exorbitant amount of money to get it returned to me. Thus I could not buy a new computer for several weeks.
Thankfully, the corporation, realized their tomfoolery and compensated me for my terrible experience.

So I’m back with a new computer (very similar looking to my last one – same marks on the keyboard and everything) here to blog for you again and the world is as it should be.

Two:

In order to become qualified to educate the masses, I am required to fulfill assessment requirements that are then graded, according to how amazingly-amazing I am (or how amazing the assignment is). The last few weeks have been a stormy, angry clouded landscape of lengthy essays perforated by the intermittent sunshine of teaching placement (and visiting markets and duckies). In moments (hours) of procrastination when I wished to be blogging about the Silver Birch tree in the front yard – technology would poke its tongue out at me and not play nice. First by refusing to cope with large photographic file sizes and then refusing to allow me to log into my blog so that I could actually post for you.
But now:

Assignments handed in. Tick.

Using a new web browser that is actually friendly. Tick.

Scrapped idea of blogging about the silver birch (for now). Tick.

And the world is as it should be.

Did you know that it was still autumn last time we spoke. Oh my! Well, its nice to be back, friends. There is much to be said and seen.

Here’s a few pics from my hiatus.

Abandoned trolley at St. Andrews market and sculpture in Heide Gallery Gardens

Under a train bridge somewhere and a car in a paddock somewhere.

Heide Gallery Gardens and the aformentioned silver birch

See you again in the not too distant future.

e.