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This sign (right) is like me at the moment - semi-functional. You can see that it is supposed to read “open licensed”, however it doesn’t quite.

I’ve had lots of emails and well wishes. Some blunt - ‘damn, I don’t get to inherit your camera’… ‘oh, you’re still alive’ flavour… and others more typical. So to answer a few of your questions.

Am I lighter? Yes. I have no idea how much an appendix weighs but yes, I am appendix weight lighter. (I googled as we all know the internet answers all and the clearest reply I could fine was 6 oz. I then used my i-phone app convertor to discover that’s about 170 grams. The wonders of technology!)

Actually I’m more than 170 grams lighter. At the moment I weigh 59 kg. I was 61, so I expect it won’t last. I can’t say whether those 2 kilos have solved all my trousers issues as my tummy feels (even if it isn’t) a little swollen.

Second question - do I have my appendix in a jar. (Of course, a boy asked this!) No, I do not. But goosey don’t despair. I found a DVD on you tube supplied to a patient who wanted his appendix in a jar. I didn’t watch all the way to the end. I only needed to see those pointy things push through the skin to explain why I was sore even though I have almost no scar or cuts (on the outside that is). Link to video:

If you’ve just groaned, then you have to at least watch the first 10 seconds of the clip below… You will laugh - it’s the disco, animated, musical version of surgery!

Have I had any complications? Yes. Some are documented in medical textbooks - e.g. nausea and vomiting. Others are not i.e. cat intervention. Convincing saffron and licorice that my stomach is not an available lap location is a challenge. I’m not sure which of one did it, but on day two at home, I was caught by surprise when one of them jumped onto my lap and put her paw right on the incision. That one did start bleeding again but the cuts are so tiny it doesn’t take long for it to stop.

As for pain, I said to a friend, I’m not sure which is worse - my stomach pain or listening to Tony Abbott repeat fair dinkum.

Lastly a comment on the home nursing service. My mum is such a gem. I am usually the one with the cooking disasters. Day one home from hospital (I didn’t eat much there!), I ask for cheese on toast brunch. Mum kindly prepares it for me and comes and sits on the couch. Licorice jumps in her lap. A few minutes later, mum yelps - ‘oh the toast!’ She pushes licorice off (no easy feat) and scurries to the kitchen to open the door to a plume of smoke. I’m not talking a little wisp… imagine cloud of smoke. It fills the entire room and the smoke alarm starts to screech. Mum does that ridiculous manoevure with the cloth waving it under the detector which never - ever - works. I - still on the couch - no, you need to stand on a chair and press the button. ‘which button?’ By which time I’m on my feet but no way I’m about to stand on the chair.

In complete contrast, the second home nursing service cooked a perfect ommelette - bacon, mushroom, cheese with a dash of sour cream. (I must acknowledge that mum burning something is super rare… that’s what made it exceptionally funny!)

Jet

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Coming home this evening I passed a Chinese takeaway joint, a noodle shop, followed by the Himalayan Driving school. Hmm… is that the school I should attend if I’m to drive in mountainous terrain? Or is the name taken from the fact that for some people getting one’s license is like climbing a mountain? I found myself thinking I should carry a notebook around to jot down these oddities so I do not forget them.

Another unusual sight recently was a man in newtown, wearing very little. Not unusual for Newtown - even in the dead of winter. However he was wearing a singlet; braces; bloomers; naked legs; jumbo sized bear paw slippers and an aqua sequined bow tie around his neck. If this guy was a street performer, what exactly was his act?

If you are wondering what any of this has to do with the photo to the right (of a black labrador holding an orange toy ball in his mouth) the answer is absolutely nothing. Unless of course there is a connection that I have missed - open to suggestions!

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s a flying hippo

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Every now and then someone uses a piece of music so well, that the music has a whole new life. Think Unchained Melody and Ghost, What a Wonderful World and Good Morning Vietnam, I Will Survive and Priscilla Queen of the Desert…

Takin’ Over the Asylum doesn’t just have one song it uses well… the soundtrack is almost a character of the show in its own right. Google it and you will find that the music was done by Junior Campbell; however I can find neither a CD or a full song listing.

So with the help of the shazam app, and lots of lyric sites, I’ve been slowly identifying songs. If anyone can direct me to a site which already lists them…. please let me know. This list is only up to episode three… but here goes. Strangely, it contains many songs I would not normally listen to… yet associated with that show, I can’t help but enjoy it.
If you haven’t seen this BBC drama featuring a very young David Tennant as well as Ken Stott, do yourself a favour and grab yourself a copy. You will laugh and cry.

Note: many have been covered by numerous artists, so for the most part I’ve left that out.

Episode 1:
1) Umm… unidentified - good start eh???
2) I’m going to sit right down and write myself a letter
3) Hey Jude
4) Summertime Blues
5) To know him is to love him
6) Help
7) If you don’t know me by now
Hey Jude (reprise)

Episode 2:
1) Money, that’s what I want - The searchers
2) I hear you knockin’
3) Going out of my head
4) This Ole House - Shakin Stevens
5) Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys
6) We’ve gotta get out of this place - The Animals
7) (Your love is lifting me) Higher and Higher
World without love?
9) Great Balls of Fire - Jerry Lee Lewis
10) Doo Run Run
11) Hound Dog - Elvis Presley
12) Stay - The Hollies

Episode Three
1) Dancing in the street
2) You always hurt the one you love
3) The party’s over
4) For once in my life
5) Day Tripper
6) I want to hold your hand

Feeding the parrots

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

On Thursday I took photos most of the day. I was with mum driving to and from Goulburn NSW for the funeral of a former colleague. I wanted to pay my respects to a lady who always delighted me with her energy. That day it was rather grey and wet to and from Goulburn, so try as I might, I was not able to get an image I feel is suitable for this post.

I can’t recall exactly when I first met her - was it 2002? I do remember walking back from the canteen at work and spotting a lady sitting in the visitors chairs, obviously awaiting interview.

My boss Jane went off to interviews. Upon her return, I said to Jane - you can’t hire the lady with the aqua jacket… she’ll be too loud. (After all, Marian took the office trophy for bright clothing.) Jane’s answer was short and sweet. I can, and I will, and you will behave yourself. I’m glad she did.

I can’t recall seeing that jacket after that day. Although I do remember clothes with splashes of bright yellow or purple. I walked into the chapel on Thursday to see a photo of her. Well, I’m sure it was her under that ernormous hat with purple tulle. I recall her organising us on Melbourne cup day; running the biggest morning tea; generally buzzing around us all with her fantastic smile, laughter and generosity. At the time she worked two jobs. Her second job was as a carer for a man with an acquired brain injury. I’m sure that her job description was limited to regular caring tasks - like helping to turn him during the night. Yet that wasn’t enough for her. She had such enthusiasm that soon she was cooking with her client; working in the garden and organising other activities. I feel sure that she got as much joy from these things as he did.

Some of my memories are of just the little moments. I recall her coming back from the kitchen with an armful of milk bottles which - to her horror - someone had put in the general rubbish rather than the recycling. With her around, there’s no way those bottles were going to landfill.

During the funeral her mother let go a little gem of a line. “I keep telling everyone… the more you cry, the less you pee.” Immediately I knew where she got her sense of humour from, and what a wonderful sense of humour it was. She will be missed.

Welcome to Cafe Andrew

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

Nestled in a sleepy street in Sydney’s Inner West lies Cafe Andrew. This small restaurant has a pleasant ambience as one eats by candlelight; only interrupted by a possum scurrying through the roof; or unfortunately, drunk neighbours shouting abuse from the third floor. The proprietor has dealt with both distractions well by employing a fine selection of music.

Cuisine varies from traditional eye fillet with mushrooms and red wine sauce to pizza with fresh gorgonzola or chilli chicken served by a handsome, occasionally well dressed waiter.

Seating is limited so bookings are essential.
NB: Generally accessible building.

Oh the joys of technology.

I can now write posts from the bus. This will of course be my excuse for poor spelling in the future.

Isn’t it strange? We can invent little devices to help us connect to web in transit but not yet a bus that flies over traffic. Oh wait, that might be called a plane, right?

Periodically a little gush of water drops from the emergency exit in the ceiling. Joy oh joy. I can barely see out the windows however wherever the he’ll I am I know it is in a status of late. Dad, contrary to what I told you about no one reading books on buses anymore the girl next to me is and the guy across. The student next to me also has her iPod in (and on). Aha. That’s right she’s one of those iGen multimedia multitaskers. Far out when did I get old?

Random thought: I saw a guy on a bicycle the other day (non-raining day) and he was wearing bell bottoms. I don’t mean bootleg jeans. No, full on bell bottoms. Ok let’s overlook the question of when they became available again. More importantly who would wear them while cycling. Pedal. Lots of fabric. One logical conclusion.

Hmm typing with one finger is kind of shitty.

But just one last remark - to the toasty warm low model television- you’d be well advised to find some devices to protect your ears from getting bitten in revenge for nasty nasty comments about soft fluffy pillows while flip endures crappy cold wet noisy bus.

Derelict hope

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

11:51 am today. Phone beeps. Text message. “The older guy over the back and around the corner is dead on his floor, might have there a week :(”
The scary part is that I don’t find it that hard to imagine there are people who have so little contact with others that no one notices them disappear. At work I often hear that one of the key issues people who are homeless or extremely disadvantaged face, is social isolation. There is a campaign at the moment - hush for homelessness - centered around that very theme.
One of my work colleagues must have a strong network of friends. He and another girl have committed to stay silent for 3 hours as part of the hush campaign. So far she has about $200 in sponsorship and people have pledged around $2000 for him. Perhaps he’s someone who talks too much
4:42pm - my friend, whose neighbour has died, says to me - there are all these blowflies. I can see them near the window.
Cat cuddles all afternoon. I love a good cuddle from my girls. There is just so much of them - to - cuddle.
I pick up some fairy wings and drive 3 minutes up the road to see my neice. I arrive to find her dressed like a mermaid with a tiara on her head. Her face lights up when she sees the wings. I ask her, does she know what happens a week before her birthday. She says no. I said, it’s my birthday a week before yours. I explain that I had a fantastic present this year from a good friend. I tell her that someone made a fuss on me. I ask her whether for her birthday she’d like to pick her favourite costume; I’ll curl her hair; we can go to the park and take photos. To my delight she thinks this is just the antz pantz. So next Saturday afternoon is dress-up day for her birthday.
7:30pm. Phone rings. Friend says, just caught someone trying to break into my neighbours house and steal his stuff. Smell is horrendous - makes you dry-retch. I called the police.
I hang up and wonder about these opportunists. What drives people to go into the house of someone recently departed; and discovered; and withstand the smell and the flies… for what?
10:30pm. Have to remove cat from lap so can prepare for bed. I scoop her up and transfer her to the washing basket. Saffron tolerates the transfer and Licorice joins me by the keyboard; telling the story of my day.

Taking shape

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

‘If you pick up 10 things a day, that’s 70 you’ll have done by the end of the week’. This be mother logic.
What doesn’t get considered by mother logic is whether I put down, bring in, or have cats move more than 10 things per day.
Actually, it’s not such a silly idea. I have been at least more aware of where I put things. I notice when it comes to tidying I feel probably 2% less overwhelmed as more things have ‘homes’ within my home. This weekend the keys got given a home. A significant thing for they are one thing I cannot leave the house without and of course, I always seem to lose them when running late.
Speaking of losing things, I couldn’t find saffron today. Licorice was in the washing basket (the one they have been sitting in together) but saffron was nowhere in sight. It’s a one bedroom unit - how can I lose a cat in here? Anyway, after a few minutes of searching, I finally discovered her behind a canvas. When I tilted the canvas back and finally found her, all she had to say was ‘mau’ and give me a look of… well, ‘how dare you, I was asleep!’


Darren asked me the story behind the painting of the man in blue with the nickel azo gold background. He’s on unstretched canvas - around A3 size. I have not used unstretched canvas before. I have a friend who lives in Florida / New York (yes I know my geography, but he seems to hop between the two)… and he wants a piece of my art. I was wondering how unstretched canvas would be to work on as it would be easier to ship. Anyway, so I was fooling around with it. My usual - a background of collage, acrylic, crayon, and in this case clear tar gel. I went searching for a photograph which would inspire a face. I located one that seemed to hit the emotion of the moment and off I went. This is one of my quick painting sketches. They are generally small, rough and unrefined. They capture the mood of a night and to go back to them and edit significantly later seems like I would be changing the piece. Often because I’m sketching quickly they are down using only one or two colours - here it’s mainly phthalo blue and burnt sienna.
I did come back the next night or so and make some modifications, however these were really just to tone down some of the background. I didn’t touch the face.
I’m sorry Daz that it’s not a more exciting story… I suppose when a painting happens that fast it often has no story. It is but a moment.
The piece to the right on the other hand has been several months in development. I am thinking I am going to call her Agnes. At one stage I had only given her one eye… very normal for me. At the urging of my parents, she acquired a second eye. I liked each eye yet not together. I decided one needed to go! Before I got rid of it completely I wondered what it would look like if I made one eye look on a separate plane to the other. The was the start of the cracks and the shapes. I had no intention of making so many shapes in this piece. It was guided by trying to save one eye and influenced by a DVD I very much enjoyed from creative catalyst with Carla O’Connor. She talked a lot about closing off shapes… outlining shapes that bother you and see where that leads. Well, there are still some shapes - outlined and unoutlined! - which bother me in the piece… hey… I could outline saffron? Not sure she would appreciate that. Actually she’s conveniently masking an area that is still bothering me…

Canberra 01

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

My child is 4 and she has learnt to turn on the television. I know… she’s a slow starter. There are many who would learn to turn it on at the age of 2 or 3.

I’ve only had this tv a couple of weeks, so she’s a quick learner. At first just sitting in front of it was enough. Lucky she’s small… although not so small that she didn’t block the volume sensor…

Two nights this week I’ve arrived home to find that she’s turned the tele on. I could try to explain to her that too much television is a bad thing… and explain this one to me? How does her hair end up on the television… it’s a black tv… she has black hair… oh silly me, I forget the golden rule - cat hair shows up on anything!

Canberra 03

Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip

I’ve painted a little this weekend yet don’t have much to show for it. Most of the weekend was consumed in crossing off jobs. Whether that was the filing; the tax; reading the article the vet supplied re: saffron’s cystitis; hemming the cotton sateen slip; remembering to send dad a photo of his orchid; checking out the new bustimetables. All little things which mounted up and a weekend disappeared.
I’m ending the weekend with two of the most wonderful words in the English language - southerly change! My dad enjoys cloud gazing… so I thought this would be an appropriate picture. Taken while mum and I were driving back from Canberra from the car. As a consequence it’s not the sharpest image in history. Still, it captures the mood. That drive went from heavy, visibility affecting rain to roads flooded with sunlight. While the clouds were mostly too dense for imaginary creatures, they compensated by being suitable moody and intense.