Grandchildren are the bestest thing.  I know bestest isn’t a word but I don’t care because there are no words to describe the joy of a grandchild.  I was out shopping with miss 7 and I needed a few items from the $2 shop so off we went.  As you know grandchildren can be a gorgeous handful in amongst their cuteness and especially while shopping for what you want.  If the trip is only about you then you can bet it will somehow be turned into an all about them excursion.  With the endless banter of Nana wow look at this, Nana wow look at that and then that repetitive , Nana, Nana, Nana, you can easily slip inside your head world where you can hear them but you are not really taking 100% notice.  Your head nods automatically or you accidentally say that’s nice dear without even looking or taking notice of that wondrous item they have suddenly discovered. Today I should have paid more notice of the wow what’s this Nana and what do you use it for Nana?  I slipped over too quickly today into that automated smile mode whilst trying to find an item I desperately needed.  The shop owner came over and not only found the item but gave me several choices.  While he was explaining the difference in my choices, miss 7, not only asked those questions repeatedly but started the tug.  You know that tug that you get when they know you are not listening.  It’s similar to the Nana Nana, Nana but a physical tug, tug, tug.    I’m pretty sure 30 seconds into the “tug” I told her to hang on a sec I’m talking to the man but this day that childs excited discovery should not have been ignored or denied the instant attention it needed, so therefore grandchild had no choice but to step up the tug a considerable notch.  I foolishly ignored it yet again.  My brain did not fathom the sheer urgency  until I realised the shop owner was smiling a little too much.  Body pushing and pulling was suddenly registering.  The tug was no longer offered but a new movement was full underway.  This movement could and would only cause nothing but pure embarrassment. Finally I jumped out of brain hiding and into the real world and I looked at the smiling way too much shop owner to the also smiling way too much grandchild only to have my own wondrous discovery.  She had a toilet plunger and was giving my boob a seriously wicked endless pumping and plunging session…..

Oprah came to Auckland New Zealand and I got to go see her. I know I am soo lucky and do not take my husband’s generousity for granted although I did just tell him umm I got me a ticket to Oprah oops.  She was inspiring and that was the reason I went.  To be inspired.  To turn up the volume in my life.  Okay so not the noise racket I make but to turn my life up to impact those who cross my path. Well a lady crossed my path last night that I could quite easily have released a years worth of wrath upon.  Aunty and I were close to the front going into the arena from outside but got halted at the doors of the main area until security of the inner room and been finished.  I was first in line.  Woo hoo. I never been first in line before so when the lovely lady told me to have a seat because it would be another 10 minutes, I declined.  “But I’m first,” I excitedly said.  “I will happily wait just so I can say I was first through the doors”.  She understood and laughed at my 5 year old giggles not realising I could add another 50 yrs onto them easily.  All was going well.  I chatted with my Aunty and also some lovely ladies who were behind us.  The line grew to 100s and 100s but I stood my spot and puffed my chest out with as much 1st place pride as I could.  15 minutes passed but no one was complaining.  Suddenly a lady 3 times my dress size did the unspeakable.  She came out from no where and stood in front of me!  I looked at her and she says to me “I’ve been here since 5 o’clock and I was here first but I’ve been sitting on the seats over there”.  There was nothing nice about the way she said it and me with normally  many words to say back, couldn’t find any due to the shock of it all.  I think I stuttered out “Ummm so have we”.  I turned my back on her to face towards the queue and they all had that, did that just happen look.   The door guard lady was a sweet pensioner whom we had been laughing and having fun with for all this time.  Suddenly size 20+ says something mean to her so I HAD to turn around and put my 10 cents worth in.  “You have pushed in front of everyone.  I don’t care if you chose to sit down.  We chose to stand and wait so don’t tell me you were here first.”  I did say it nicely because I didn’t want to embarrass Aunty or the queue watching.  I turned back to face the queue so my mouth wouldn’t accidentally say anything else and she says loudly behind me “Oh someone has an attitude aye miss pinky?”  Yes I had a pink cardigan on so I knew the daggers were for me.  *I spun around and rugby tackled that cow to the ground.  The thud shook the whole building.  Her false teeth chattered across the floor and her perfect hairdo cushioned her face as it slam dunked the concrete.  I grabbed her arms and twisted them up her back and sat on her like I was about to do a cage fight manoeuver that hadn’t been invented.  Then I rolled her over and  hog tied both legs with her skirt and proceeded to stick her handbag in her  ……. *    Sighhh,  all of that happened inside my head only.  I politely stood and faced away from her and kept saying under my breath Better not Bitter  Better not BITTer  BETTER not BITTER!!  Why did I have to be tested so soon.  Once the doors opened I let her strut off to glorious first in and I just prayed that she was not going to be sitting next to me as I was struggling to control the steam coming out from my ears.  There was a little haha got ya smug look on my face as she sat down in row 50 something while I kept walking all the way up near the front.   My bad?

I came across this saying today. It struck a cord with me or maybe a nerve that has been picked at over time more like it. Thought that is was worth sharing via my interpretation. Life throws us in lots of expected and unexpected places and positions. I’m sure you are all just like me. Some we thrive on and some we do not like on any level but we are there in that time and place for such a purpose we do not yet have the foggiest idea what for. We may be elevated in that place or we may even be rejected and as much as we try and hide the rejection, it does hurt doesn’t it. Yet we carry on wondering, brushing off, pretending it didn’t matter. It changes who we are. In fact I’m sure you will agree everything changes who we are whether it be a good thing or a bad thing.  What happens to us is not always a choice but how we respond is.  Sometimes what someone tries to do or use to destroy us can actually be what we can grab hold of and use to develop us into better.  You and me personally get to make that decision.  I know from experience that being bitter just festers and expands within and causes your old self worth and worth of others to slowly decay so choosing to be better is grabbing that seed and choosing to make it a good thing.  We must go through these bitter times in order to appreciate the better.  I am responsible for me and my thoughts just as you are responsible for yours.  If mine are not good then not good comes out of that big fat mouth of mine but on the flip side, if the thoughts are good then words and actions easily slip out and my goodness, the smile on another persons face is enough to feed my love tank for a week. Today I choose Better not Bitter. To all those who I have allowed me to feel bitter…may no crabs go up your knickers, may no elastic break, may no bogey escape, may no traffic jam you for hours, may you find 100 note on the ground before me ..oops no take that one back… may you have a great day and may you feel Better

The new decor is upon us.  Things have been moved around and shuffled into different places so that it all looks good and is all appropriate for maximum benefit. I’ve shimmied the sofa to a new spot.  I’ve brought in extra linen and towels.  I’ve done over the bathroom, put toys up and away and only left those that are suitable for the new decor to experience.  I’m sure it is now all in order for the new four paws to nibble, scratch, chew or pee on.  Yes.  The puppy.   It has arrived in a bundle of gorgeous yellow fluff and looks like it will never do anything wrong.  Those big brown eyes look lovingly at me and its tail flickers madly to try to put a spell on me to never growl under any circumstances.  Puppy has to remain inside for a little while as she is only 7 weeks old hence why furniture is moved so it can guard my carpet. The half of the house I have allocated to a puppy is tiled and can be kept clean should there be any hiccups or should I say slip ups.  The linen is suitable for a dog to destroy or leave smells on.  At this end of the house there a toilet available and a spare large bathroom to which I have dedicated for sleeping head quarters.  About 4 days after arrival of said bundle I was caught short down this end of the house and went to use the toilet where I discovered I had left the door open.  What a sight.  Toilet paper everywhere and the container for spare toilet rolls was tipped over and destroyed and the toilet mat was nowhere to be seen.  As I was busting to do business I just had to do my thing and be ever so grateful that amongst the white massacred chaos, there was a roll of toilet paper safely left on the holder.  It wasn’t long before I was onto the paper side of things and realised whilst using it that the roll had a nice pattern through it that I could feel.  Hmmm that is not like miss budget me to buy the expensive wavy stuff that you pay extra just to look good.  Where I am putting you does not need to be pretty but just needs to do its job and do it well. I finish the job convincing myself that I must have grabbed an expensive roll by mistake when shopping.   I decided to have a  close inspection while exiting the new snow wonderland only to find the roll meticulously patterned with teeth marks. Hundreds of them in manic order……. 10 points for puppy making me think my shopping skills were below par and 0 points for me using said paper on such an important undercover mission….

We have a new puppy pending. Needless to say we are very excited even though it is still so close to loosing Mac.  It is also a bit eery as the puppy looks very much like Mac but is a female.  Dogs of this exceedingly good lineage line don’t come along on offer to mwah every day so I am not going to miss this opportunity to purchase.  Of course we are not puppy proof anymore and this has caught us of guard so this weekend sees hubby and I redoing the dog area.  We have decided to redo a fence and move the kennels which is a huge job but with 2 days to do it, it  should be okay.  When I say we I mean, I have decided what needs moving and hubby is doing it because I said so.  I leave him to do the heavy ripping of the fencing job and I go to do the water blasting side of things.  All kennels and the long dog deck run get their summer clean look via my water blasting frenzy.   Everything must be clean and spic and span for when puppy is old enough and big enough to be trusted to be left out on her own for play time.  It only takes me a few hours  of water play so I am finished long before hubby and ask him if there is anything else I am able to help with.  I am told not at the moment so I leave him hammering away until he wants my assistance.  Finally I get a call that I am required.  I get all excited and race down to have my turn at either  wielding the hammer or giving my expert opinion on what I deem to be the perfect solution.  He is trying to nail a long rail of new fencing between 3 posts but the middle is proving to stay a little too high up and curving the wrong way.  “What can I do?   What can I do?” I excitedly ask.  I am sooooo  gutted to find my job is to SIT on the railing to make it sag into place.  My weight is all that is needed thank you very much….  

You know you are over tired when you put your weetbixs in the bowl and take that bowl along with the sugar bowl to the table and then start pouring the milk.  Its not until sniggers are heard all around you that makes you look at what is so funny to find your large bowl of sugar is about to be swimming in a milk pond….

My acknowledgment that I need to buy permanent objects of visual enhancement to sit on my nose is now upon me.  I cannot deny my hopeless excuses anymore.  The silly things I do on a daily basis is getting ridiculous.  I have to suck up that thing called pride and just do it to save not just my sanity but also for those around me.  Although I’m pretty sure they are all having a good laugh at my expense.  I think I have tripled that hat trick several times over so it is time I have to make that dreaded appointment with an optometrist.  Friday of the following week finds me patiently waiting for my turn in the confession booth.  I am tested with the ugliest pair of heavy rimmed alien looking glasses that I have ever seen.  The lovely lady tells me they are built like this so that they can easily switch lenses to make sure the correct ones are what I end up with once the elimination process is finalised.  You will be so pleased selfies are not something I do anyway and today would not have been a good day to start.    It did not take too long to sort out what prescription my lens would be but then I had to choose what glass frame I would prefer. Now this was a whole new ball game as these things not only were going to make me see better but also needed to look half decent on my face.  Thinking ahead to this moment I had pre invited my daughter in law to this visit as I valued her input immensely.  So glass frames were sorted and lenses sorted and a few other issues saw me eagerly awaiting my phone call to come and trial the spectacles in a weeks time.  Visit 2 sees me trying them on and getting them personally fitted to the shape of my head.  Visit 3 sees me revisit as I am not coping too well and to be honest, can’t see a blimmin thing.  I don’t know if my expectations are too high or whether I have picked the wrong frame  Sadly I need a 4th visit as I am still struggling and I have now ordered photochromic lenses.  I simply cannot see anything on my computer and think I look like a snobby upturned nosed posh person who appears  to look like they are trying to see life through a telescope.  Well that’s how I explain it to them. So on this 4th visit I park in the same row and almost in the same spot as the last 3 visits.  Each time I have brought along my daughter in law and grandson to repeat this yawning process of fixing glasses with a dash of yummy lunch and gorgeous family time.  I’m sure spec savers are just as sick of me as I am of all the travel.   My new pair of photochromic lenses are in my possession and it is a quick adjustment before we start the 45 minute trek back home.  We are half way home and just getting up into the 100ks allowed on the motorway when I hear a flap flap flap on my windscreen.  Tucked under my passenger wiper and down where you would never see unless doing this high speed, is something orange and white.  “Oh my gosh,” I declare. “That looks like  a ticket”.  We discuss the possibility until I can no longer stand it and pull over on the motorway and make my daughter in law get out and retrieve it before it blows away and either of us ever knew if it was a ticket or just an invite to something neither of us would care to go to.  Once in the car she announces that it is a ticket for a Parking Breach Notice.  I have exceeded a park time of P90.    Really!  and of course I did not see a P90 anywhere with or without glasses.  I have since challenged this and I have been given not 1 but 3 very clear pictures of my car not close to a P90 sign but parked right next to the P90 sign.  My excuse of going to spec savers to get glasses would surely be a lunch room laughable offence for all enforcement officers.  So for my blind doozy, that will be $50 dollars please.

Seeing things clearly is a gift until you can no longer either see it clearly or see it at all.  When my Dad died, he died wearing glasses.  When he was alive, one day he wasn’t wearing glasses and the next, he was.  The trouble is I cannot remember how many days or even years was the, he did and he didn’t because it didn’t matter to me.  He had black heavy rimmed ones that seemed to suit him but I’m not sure whether that’s because he was my dad and I loved him regardless or because they actually did look good on him. Glasses did not define who he was so I was not thinking ahead and warning my own self esteem that I most likely will be heading in that direction.    After fighting the blind fight that comes naturally with age, I am still trying to never wear them unless I have too. This 3rd spec saver moment  has chased me very closely behind 1 and 2 leaving me no room to even argue about whether I should seriously be getting a solid pair perched on my nose.  The glasses that you can buy at the chemist are really quite cute.  No way am I going near Dads taste in heavy black rims when I am offered pretty red patterns or  teal colour tones and even blues on blue. I am spoilt in variety and the only thing holding me back is my wallet.   I have found that I can afford to have a few pair in different areas of the house as when I just put them down somewhere you can bet when I need them in  a hurry that I cannot find them. Today sees me out of the house and doing my favourite op shop bargain buying. I have been to a few different stores and scored some really good deals.  I leave this shop with my handbag  and 2 plastic bags filled with my goodies and even though I  am clearly overloaded, I am joyous in my finds.  Now I get a text on top of my load so I have to try and find the “glasses”.  Searching quickly they are no where in my many pocketed handbag.  Love you dearly aunty for my handbag but a bag with 9 openings gets a person into a lot of trouble of where she put what.  The 9 openings have now been inspected twice whilst in carry mode and still no glasses, so I figure I must have accidentally put them in my stash of goodies.  Fumbling through them I still cannot find my plastic eyes and am not impressed with myself as this is the 2nd pair I have misplaced shopping this morning.  I reluctantly accept defeat and hope that there will be a mysterious pair hiding in the car somewhere. As I head towards the car I pass a large shop window so I take a sneak look at my reflection and realise I am not a pretty site.  Today I look like a real bag lady so I  make an instant attempt to suck it all in to improve that appearance causing me to hold my breath for as long as I can and it better be till I get to that car.  You convince yourself that someone might just look in your direction and stare at what flap falls where and what sag will win the “I saw you even though you were trying to hide” title.  With flaps and sags sucked temporarily into another dimension, I lean into the mirror reflecting window and pretend to look at something, so I can give myself a quick once over.  Come on, you all do it don’t you?  Just as I’m about to burst empty of air and return my body to a cross between Humpty Dumpty and a saggy African elephant together in a human suit, there I spot my glasses.   On my head! and not just one pair  but two pairs…….

Needing glasses in the I think my eyes might be getter old as well department, always starts with denial.  First you hold what ever you are reading  further and further out in order to try to see.  Then secondly you squint your eyes to try to decipher the blurry ant letters on the page.  But when you are out with your friends and they start chuckling at you because your arms are now totally straight and your eyes are struggling to see over your hanging down frustrated frown line, then and only then do you concede and go buy some plastic fantastic spectacles.  I have been wearing cheap chemist ones for a few years now.  I have also contemplated getting prescription ones too but am still hanging onto the last  little bit of denial that says I’m not that bad after all.   A few weeks ago I got a new hairstyle.  I think I’ve just entered my brave stage in life.  Well maybe the “I no longer care what you think I look like I’m going to do it anyway,” stage.  It is really short and I call it my new funky hedgehog look.  I finally had the balls to make  the hairdresser do exactly what I told her to do.  Normally I shut up and leave without a fuss but today it was, “you cut all this, and yes that short and then leave this long strip alone and please, don’t touch my fringe“.   She knew I was serious as I had that look.  Once it was all cut she surveyed her artwork via the mirror and then she thought it would be a good idea to put her hand on my fringe and lift it up with scissors eagerly awaiting in the other.  Then she had the gall to ask without giving me eye contact, “Are you sure you don’t just want a little bit off?”  My response was a lion like growl that escaped without hesitation from my mouth and I also gave her a dagger look that showed her if you did it, I will react in an unladylike manner.  The message was received loud and clear, even if it wasn’t in English.  So the back is 3cm all over and spiked up with gel and the front is flat with the long piece that sweeps across in between the two.   Today sees me thinking I might dye that in between strip bright red.  It might suddenly look like the hedgehog has just became road kill but we will be brave and just go for it.  After all it is only hair and 28 washes in one day will get it out won’t it? Being a conscientious  person and overly thrifty with hubbys hard earned money, I thought I would use only half the mixtures and save the rest for next month.  So I carefully  mix the lotions together and simply dye the strip.  Fiddly work but I managed it without getting any colour on anything.  I set the timer  and go play on Facebook.  I did not want to look until it was completely done  because I was anticipating a huge wow factor at the end.  Once I am buzzer warned I go rinse and only then do I look in the mirror to suss out my new look.  I cannot see a red fuzzy reflection looking back so I am forced to find my eye ware.  Nothing!  There is no red strip.  What! There must be a fault then with the product.  I check the box and it says red so I check the 2 pottles I mixed together.  One says red dye and the other does not say activator.  Ooops  it says conditioner.  So much for penny pinching as everything is now a waste of time and money, no red strip and no new Granny look.  Yes, just another I should have gone to spec savers…..