object lesson


1 x floor-to-ceiling bathroom cabinet

1 x curious gangly type puppy

1 x thought to self: Must move all the medicines up a few shelves this weekend

1 x husband who often fails to shut the cabinet door (we know this, hence point above)

Mix well for 10 unsupervised minutes. Hilarity ensues!

That is a bottle of Nurofen (ibuprofen) chewed completely flat, with its childproof cap still pristine. Because if you flatten the bottle, the cap pops right off. Did you know this? Now you do. We don’t think the puppy actually swallowed any, but because we couldn’t remember how many were left in the bottle, the vets work on worst-case scenario (bottle of 25 minus 6 pills scattered around the dog, Valley of the Dolls style, leaves a potential dose of 19). So that is how much it costs to make my dog throw up, keep him overnight, give him IV fluids and activated charcoal and do multiple blood tests to make sure his kidneys are fine. He came bouncing home the next day, full of piss and vinegar and with a few shaved patches. His kidneys, needless to say, are tip-top. And he’s headache-free!

I don’t begrudge spending the money, especially on something that was entirely our fault, but we have spent the last few days musing on what the dog could have chewed on that would have worked out to be more expensive, and can only come up with a) the good camera, b) all of our furniture, all at once, or c) nothing, there’s NOTHING. Way to teach us a lesson, dog. You win this round. I’m sure it’s only the first of many.

fixing my back end

It’s so hot here at the moment. And hotter tomorrow, they say. I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but they can fuck right off with their forecasts of 35 degrees plus. I have friends who thrive in the heat, who can lie out in it with expressions of pure contentment. Vampire that I am, I hiss and retreat to the house. Actually it cooled down a bit this afternoon, so we went to the beach.


We met one of Mr T’s coworkers, who has a Saint Bernard. Now I am used to big dogs, but this dog had a head the size of a bucket. I was going to say a pumpkin, but you can get some pretty small pumpkins. Bucket is about right. Maybe a basketball? whatever. It’s too hot.

Big head, little legs

The dogs played together and at one point, the Saint went out deeper (to lie down and wallow in the water, in the manner of a hippopotamus) and the puppy followed him. It got too deep for him, so he started swimming along as though he’d always done it. OK, so another water dog then. We are going to need some more towels.


In other news, Jane updated her website to WordPress and her husband Paco wrote code to import all her comments. I have read Jane’s blog since Jesus was a cowboy (at least 2003, but you’ll have to check with Jesus) and she amuses me greatly. Anyway, after learning of Paco’s impressive skillz, I (extremely rudely in hindsight) begged for the same service. PANDER TO ME! Surprisingly enough Paco did so, and so all my old comments are now nestled snugly in WordPress. This means nothing to you, I’m sure, but a great deal to me. All hail Paco! Aren’t people nice? I LOVE YOU PACO (in a totally platonic, wordpress-mediated manner). This totally made my February. Thank you Paco and Jane!


Aaaaand… you’ll see by that picture that I actually no longer have a puppy. This little dog has somehow turned up in his place. 20kg of little dog, even wringing wet. Doesn’t he look sad? He is not sad, he is KNACKERED. He collapsed the minute we got back from the beach and has been sleeping ever since. Win win!

my own cute overload

Yes, I’m standing in the big dog waterbowl. Which is actually a 5-litre stainless steel stockpot inside a concrete planter. The dogs who came before me liked to carry waterbowls around and empty them out, so now I’m stuck with a non-tippable water source. THANKS GUYS.


There were aliens? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I’m totally cute now. You saw nothing.

Now I have a wet face. Judging by the grass around here, it’s the only thing that’s seen water for a while.



I don’t know where the puppy is. I mean, there’s no noise or anything, which means he doesn’t have a cat bailed up somewhere; so unless he’s flooding the kitchen or chewing the weatherboards off the side of the house or something, I guess we’re good. Let’s work under that assumption, shall we?

I am a complete angel and have no idea what you might mean.

I have played around with the theme here again so apologies if the feed has gone awry and re-published hundreds of posts. I don’t think it has, but again, I’ll work under the assumption it may have. I finally got the phantasmagoria category in order, which involved creating them all as posts. Because this website was Kickin’ It Old Skool for so long, with its quaint html heritage, there are all sorts of little hanging chads like that.

Cleaning, eh? I understand.

I mean, there’s always so MUCH to do.

That puppy is really stirring up the dust around here.

All eager for the treat:

House and Garden magazine. I am pulling this house into shape if it kills me.

“Me and Julio down by the School Yard”, Paul Simon. On repeat. Many times.

Seinfeld re-runs on Go! channel. Ah, Seinfeld.


Summer weather – not too hot, not too cold, even for me.

This yoga business is not nearly as easy as it looks.