Rummage

Lots of reading goes on in this house, largely because I am a hard arse who won't let the small people watch anything except episodes of Behind the News and only then when I can watch with them to pretend that I know what they are talking about at the dinner table. We are just about to start a bookclub. The lunatic small child is trying to talk me into a bookclub for dragons. Just what I need, a bunch of likeminded weirdos trying to set fire to their books with some heavy breathing.

Tomorrow before breakfast I will be taking an eleven year old girlchild and a nearly seven year old dragon on a charity walk for the Boundless Playground. I love that this playground is the present from Canberra's public servants to this beautiful city and its children in this centenary year. Come along if you are around, I'll be the one with the small person who has smoke issuing from her nostrils.

Some of the last fires of the season are happening now. There's a wild rumour that it will be 27 degrees next week so we are milking this little baby for all she's worth.
There's intense competition for that seat there by the fire, even the French is prepared to arm wrestle his daughters for the privilege. The smallest child has decided to fully embody fire and become a dragon.
She is the child formerly known as E. and is currently weighing the pros and cons of either Night Fury or Zippo Back.

DEEPLY in love with my new old Russian wrist watch from the 1950's. I think I paid about $30 so it's prolly no surprise that it stopped three times today. I find this somewhat lackadaisical approach to time endearing currently and very similar to my own. At some stage I will take it to a watchmaker for some gulag-style attention but for now I am happy for it to tell the time correctly a few times a day.

Spring is nearly here, hence the blossom. I am ignoring the surrounding mess right now and waiting for the Spring Clean fever to kick in. It may be some time coming! x

These are the roller derby outfits. I had nothing to do with this btw.

The smallest person is desperate to read the comic book and can often be found doing noisy mouth breathing over her sister's shoulder.

Although the Red Bellies lost last night all pain was assuaged when they got to meet their roller heroine Bambi Von Smash'er Their eyes were like hubcaps!

Taking this girl to Roller Derby tonight with the French and the other small person. We will eat meatball sandwiches, the adults will drink wine that may or may not have been smuggled in on our persons. If we are in luck the smallest might distinguish herself with a solo on the rink at half time. Hope you are having an ace weekend.x

It's important to acknowledge that i don't really know what this blog is about. At all. I discovered this while trying to categorise Rummage on Feedly. It sure as hell isn't a craft blog now. Fashion, no. Cooking, no. Deco/interiors no, unless you count innumerable photos of my coffee cup sitting on a magazine. Me whinging about my children does not maketh a 'kids' blog. At best Rummage is a bunch of random photos with the odd bit of commentary. Until now, YESSIR! This is now a 'how-to' blog, or at least for the next ten minutes. It goes like this. Get some bulbs, preferably ones that have been kicking around freezing their arses off outdoors at your local garden centre. Bring them inside and whack them in a vase. I've used shells as ballast. Fill aforementioned vase with water and shove bulbs in water just so their bottoms are wet. After wee roots start to grow don't let the water touch the bulbs (no one likes a mouldy bottom). These bulbs are tulips with bits of blossom stuck in because I am impatient. Updates soon. X

And here's what I currently look like. Just to prove that I have moved on from sparkly pants although some might argue that the hair is an 80s throw back. Mum knitted my cardy, that's her belt too (there wasn't much breathing today btw). X

That's what's known in the business as a long time between drinks. With the year of sparkly pants behind me I feel it's time to get this ramshackle show back on the road. Lots of good things in the wind, people. I can feel it in my bones. Hope you have been keeping well. X

Poor old Rummage has fallen into disrepair. There are metaphorical tumbleweeds in the form of junk spammers ago go . All it needs is a whistling wind, lone violin and John Wayne to appear menacingly on the left.
In contrast, the family of Rummage is peachy keen. The small children continue to be the highly excitable lunatics that they have always been. Give them a darkened room, a brown paper bag and some yoghurt and I guarantee you they will have created some kind of rocking installation whilst screeching with laughter. That's how they roll, those two.
The French is, as ever, exactly who he always was and who he will always be. As much as he might complain about being compared to sedimentary rock. And I know he will read this and complain. My answer is to look to the beauty in those fixed intransmutable layers of integrity and strength.
There are other good things too. The band continues to evolve with bass player and drummer. There are times when we are akin to a scene from Flight of the Conchords - the contentious issue of a name for example. I'm thinking of listing them all here and asking for a vote. I saw Jello Biafra of Dead Kennedys fame do a spoken word piece on band names in the 90's. He had nothing on us. We are currently known as Honey West and the Dukes of Haggard but that is subject to change without notice.
I turned 40 in August and am pleased to discover that I didn't wake up with a burning desire to book myself in for some bizarre facial augmentation. I did buy a pair of hot pants and I DO wear them. And if that passes for a mid-life crisis, I am good with it.
Xx

There's only so much time I can handle a photo of myself sulking in a fedora at the top of this page. So enough already.

Actually, it could well have stayed there for eternity if some bright spark from a Channel 10 production company hadn't suggested that I appear on some god forsaken insightful reality show to discuss infidelity. It took me all of a heartbeat to decide that I would prefer to stab myself in the eye repeatedly with a pointy stick before doing that. Also not so keen on the placement of ads for marriage counselling here at chez rummage. Lord knows I am most certainly no expert.

The one thing I am rock solid on is a very large feeling of gratitude to the people who responded to that last post without prejudice or judgement. Thank you for your kindness and giving me the benefit of the doubt. I want to pass on thanks from the French as well - he read through each comment and I know it helped him too. 

I want you to know that we are good here at the house of rummage, my little family and I. Life is a curious and colourful beastie and I never seem to be able to take the easy road in anything, the french says that's why he married me, I can't quite believe that he hasn't changed his mind. But he hasn't and I am finally beginning to understand the meaning of unconditional love when I look in those gentle brown eyes.

The knowledge that I am surrounded by people with grace and big hearts is an unexpected kindness that I treasure. I have a friend in Adelaide who I've never met but have known now for years and her emails during this time I have read and reread as a kind of sustenance. I don't know why I woke up a month ago and had to write about what happened and I don't want to dwell on this but releasing it out into the ether has helped me in a profound way. There is a Ruth Park novel titled Dear Hearts and Gentle People and that's how I often think of the people who read this blog. You've helped me through a dark time and for that I am grateful.

Enough now.