The knee bone's connected to the ....

You may remember this entry from a little while ago and perhaps have been wondering what happened in the end? Well here's an update.

I ended up (much to the embarrassment of my family) taking the bones and bullet to the local police station. They  were received with interest and a raised eyebrow or two and since dropping them off I've heard nothing back. My guess is that they either haven't been 'processed' yet or the bones proved to be animal bones.

However what should Big Boy nonchalantly hand me this week but a very well-preserved vertebrae! Of course this led to more digging and we unearthed quite a few bones along with some rusty bits and pieces and a large rusty knife. I'm not sure what to do with them now. Some of the bones are almost stone like in texture, others are brittle and some look like pieces of coal. Judging by their appearance I still feel they are really quite old and I'm wondering whether the museum would be interested in taking a look?

My husband has 35 pairs of underpants

It's true. I counted.

I spring cleaned our dressing room today and it has made the space look so much better. I might even share some pictures one of these days.

Of course I'm always right, right?

Most people are afraid of being stuck in a lift. I'm afraid of being stuck in the car for long periods with my mother in law. Here's why.

I recently purchased a gorgeous chandelier from a seller on Ebay. My intention is to put it up in the kitchen which I think will match perfectly with the French Provincial theme I have been working towards creating. You would think that was a fairly fun topic of conversation wouldn't you? Apparently not when my mother in law is involved.

Imagine the lip biting going on when listening to this:
'You know, I think the kitchen is the wrong place for a chandelier.'
'No-one puts a chandelier in their kitchen, chandeliers are for lounge rooms and bedrooms.'
'You really should ask someone else [presumably a chandelier expert] what they think.'
I haven't yet mentioned to her that I also intend to put a chandelier in the bathroom.

Just to prove that she is wrong and I am right here are two lovely kitchen chandeliers. (Pictures lovingly stolen from the forum at http://ths.gardenweb.com.)

Saturday ghost story

I'm back to share my latest ghostly tale with you after a busy day celebrating Tiny Girl's 2nd birthday. Hope I didn't keep you waiting ;-)

We've had a few very odd experiences in the house, some of which we just have no explanation for. I will probably share them at a later date but Thursday night's experience tops the lot for eeriness. Around mid-night Thursday Tiny Girl woke up and after a few unsettled minutes started screaming. She was yelling in a way that I haven't heard before and it certainly wasn't a typical pain cry (and mums out there will know that you just KNOW when it's a pain cry.) She yelled so much that I turned the light on but the yelling continued. It continued in our room, in the upstairs lounge, in the downstairs lounge and back upstairs into the study area. She was inconsolable and was grabbing me so tight and wailing for her dad. Eventually he got up and tried to comfort her and once again she gripped on for dear life.

(I'll stop the tale there to let you know that Tiny Girl hates men. Especially any man bold enough to enter our house. She saves the best of the terror for my brother-in-law, which I'm sure makes him feel rotten every time he comes over.)

So back to the story. Picture this- me sitting on the study chair, The Gas Man holding the screaming toddler, most of the lights are out and Tiny Girl starts pointing behind her dad over to a bookcase. Then clear as day she wails 'man!' 'man!' -- Cue silent parental melt down.--

So who's our mystery man? Well we like to call him George. Here's his picture. I'll tell you his story another day.

Things that go bump in the night

One of the questions we are often asked is whether or not our house is haunted. I guess the theory is that the older the house the more chance there is of people having died there and of course everyone knows that if someone died in their home then they must still be there in all their ghostly glory.

When we first moved in the house was very spooky. Mainly because it was covered in trees. Branches used to scrape the roof, making horrible mournful (AKA ghostly) noises. I would say that for at least the first year we lived here the house creeped me out. It doesn't bother me anymore though, mainly because it is so light and airy these days.

So although the house itself was creepy the ghosts normally are not. Ghosts?! Yes ghosts. Or something odd, like old energy. They are here with us and normally it's a non-issue. Until last night. Want to hear the story? I'll keep you in suspense and tell you tomorrow. (Insert wicked ghostly laugh here.)

Bits and pieces

It's been a while between blogs and I'm feeling very lazy for not having posted before now. Here are a few of my excuses:

• Croup (not me)
• Reaction to croup medication
• Tonsillitis (me)
• A very special birthday (and equally special cake)
• Sea World
• Movie World
• School holidays
• Tonsillitis again

I have accomplished a bit of an Ebay spend up though and have some great items to share soon. I also managed to get out in the garden and transformed our fountain into a lettuce and strawberry garden. It's a much better use of the space and I doubt water restrictions will ever allow it to be used as a fountain again. At least this way it's no longer a breeding ground for mossies.

Five minutes of fame, just not the kind you want

We've been busy around here, working on a few little projects and spending time with the kids over the holidays. I have a few pics to take and some posts to make so watch this space. In the meantime I thought I'd share my shock at seeing this doctor on TV last night. He operated on my finger in 2002 and, at risk of being sued, he did a terrible job. Now I see why!

We have a fence!

When we moved into our house we had this lovely little white picket fence. Unfortunately it was rotten and full of termites. It was also thoroughly incompetent at keeping in large dogs and small children. Soon after this picture was taken we pulled it down (including the part that fell on my toe *thanks mum*).

The Gas Man then devised a plan. He was going to create a masterpiece. A fence to rival all fences that dared be erected near ours. It was to be an artwork and a supreme security device. His inspiration came from pictures like the one below.

So 5 years and 4 months ago he set about building 'The Fence.' And today, finally, the last piece was put in place. It's the work of art it always promised to be, isn't he talented?

Our fence c2008, final pictures to follow in days to come.

How to be a woman

I finished another little home design project yesterday and thought it was too cute not to share. Back in 2001/2002 a lovely colleague of mine bought me this tea-towel for my birthday. It was very much a tongue-in-cheek gift as the man in question was much older and wiser than most of the 20-somethings working with him. (In fact he was once the Australian Ambassador to Iraq!) It was especially funny as we were doing a very complex and certainly not feminine job at the time. It was a wonderful guy and I hope he and his family are doing really well these days.

So I've carried this tea-towel around for nearly 10 years, just waiting to frame it up and find it a home. It now has one in our laundry, so I can smile and remember that I'm more than just a housewife when I'm washing our clothes and cleaning our mess.

Here are couple of extracts for your reading pleasure. Bear in mind that the towel is a copy of an article published on April 2, 1953.

 How to be a woman
'Don't talk about politics, economics or your theories of relativity. Stick to small talk. Act dumb. Whatever men tell you, they never think a woman is feminine if she shows her brains.'

'Let him (your husband) make the decisions. You married him didn't you? Well, trust him!'

And my personal favourite:
'Smile rather than laugh. Deep laughter is for men only. Japanese style giggling is worth trying.'