Time On My Hands

Yesterday I got an early mark from work. Remember those? In school? Well, in primary/elementary school, anyway. It was always so exciting to get out 5 or 10 or even a whopping 15 minutes early. So much opportunity when we weren’t picking glue paste off our hands or packing away the math tiles etc at the end of the day. Well, yesterday I finished a whole hour GASP right?! I know, a whole hour earlier since I started earlier. Hmm, whatevs, it doesnt sound as exciting when I say that. Anyhoo. I got an early mark, and the question on my mind that whopping 15 minutes before the imaginary bell went off for home-time was just what was I going to do with myself?

There’s always things that need doing – laundry, groceries, picking the kids up and starting homework – but there’s also the things I want to do – grab a drink at the bar, get something from the candy store, maybe jasmine tea and a scone at a cafe, browse a bookstore, etc etc etc etc etc. Should I cram in all the things I need to do and then rush around for the other things, or do what needs doing and then relax? Of course, I often find that doing all the things leaves no interest in doing my things afterwards, which is why my house is a pigsty – I care more about the fun stuff than the other stuff because there’s always more of the unfun stuff and it can piss off or take a number while I’m taking care of the good stuff. Yesterday, however, I made a more sensible decision.

So I dodged the bar and went straight to the candy store, didn’t make eye contact with the window-sitters in the cafe and headed to the book store.

let’s pretend that’s the only treat I ate

And then I did groceries and picked up the kids. Of course, being picked up early from the 2.5hrs of aftercare at school that they supposedly hate when Husband is out of town went down like a ton of bricks… “Omg you’re too early” etc. Sheesh! I made it up to them by telling them we could eat expired food from cans for dinner, but that’s another story.

So the moral of this story is live free or die; or, there’s always groceries and laundry so eat chocolate and go to the bookstore first.

100 Miles with One Step, etc

Okay, so here I am at the gym, having got up 1.5 hours earlier than I normally would on a school morning. Actually, I woke naturally and in alarm a further 12 minutes before the alarm so that’s, 1.6 hours, I guess. Anyhoo, it’s fucking early and I’m here. 

I had high hopes of finishing a movie from my Keanu-athon but the kids (or, let’s face it, Husband,) put my ipad spmewhere and I couldn’t find it before I left. I managed to scrounge his earphones since I left mine in the bedroom, and I finally made it out the door. Gah, I’m tired.

I played Golden Girls Monopoly with friends last night, 10 out of 10 highly recommend, would definitely play again. Had the obligatory cheesecake and managed not to eat the remaining half of the cake before bed, or after Husband had gone to bed. I googled the calorie count (why? WHY?) and it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. I managed to cut the slices thinner than I would normally do, but it’s a new year and new me, right?! But I had two, so. I think the two slices equal more than one serving, so by using that same equation, 1 serving = 500cals, ÷3, × 2, still equals too much whipped cream but I’m here bright and early, ergo, pretty sure I’m breaking even so far.

I asked Husband about the event in September that has the 40m bike ride, and he said 2 hours, I think, for him to ride it. He’s “a cyclist” so I need to add at least another hour to the cycling section of my exercise regime, [side note: is it a regime if it’s only 3 days in?], which gives me a total of exactly 1 hour in my cycling regime [side note: if the answer can be ‘yes’, then I can be strict enough with myself to do it]. I am 20 minutes into that aspect of the regime and I must say, my will to live is flagging.

. . .

I finished, I survived, I will exercise another day. Keep on fighting (one of the) good fight(s).

Red Wine & Sweat Pants

It’s hard to stay focused on one thing when amazing other things are right in center field. Take not getting soft and flabby, or softer and flabbier, for instance. 

 My NYE resolution is to make more time for exercise, which means eating right, as well. I eat pretty well, but it’s been easy to eat not well this past year coz every other week, it’s someone’s birthday at work or there’s a faux holiday to celebrate with delicious snacky treats in the break room which I don’t say no to, plus halloween, thanksgiving and christmas which have their own themed snacks to go right along. My willpower got hammered and then just laid down and died. So that’s what I’m trying to reverse this year. I know it’s all about routine but getting into the routine can be the tough part for me. 

To kick the year off the right way, the boys’ NYE resolution is to adventure more and whine less, 

On track with the miles

and their goal is to ride 1000 miles in 2018. Sounds like a lot but we ride quite a bit, so we just need to be consistent. A few longer rides thrown in throughout the year will help, too. Inching the 5 miler up to 8 or 10 will do no one any harm, especially me.

On the flip side of all that sense is my sensibility, wanting to dally and play, read:  eat. 

Specifically, tomorrow I’m hosting Golden Girls Monopoly hour with cheesecake and white wine, it’s nothing but win Win WIN! provided I get my slop-pay ass back into the routine the very next day. 

But then there is afternoon tea two weeks after that, and two weeks after that, and two weeks after that! 
But there is something on the horizon for me to keep it all in perspective and it’s not what you might think [self-loathing], it’s yet another opportunity to seriously hurt myself or even – you guessed it – die [of shame]. River 2 Ridge.


Its not the Warrior Dash, it’s worse! Run a mile, kayak a bunch of miles, ride 40 miles, run 8 miles. Fuck. But I’m in it to come last, not hurt myself and have a good time. Husband and a friend did it last year and while drinking red and watching the kids run around in the rain, it seemed a fun thing to sign up for. Now my friend is having second thoughts but I decided to go ahead, anyway, and sign up for the whole thing. Relay is an option and good for you, but you shouldn’t get to come through to the winner’s circle and share the limelight with people who did the whole thing if you only did it piecemeal, imo. So that’s why I couldn’t do the relay, I wouldn’t respect myself in the morning. 

So while I sit here drinking red and ordering men’s size sweat pants for myself, I dream of tomorrow, And not only the literal tomorrow where I’m consuming good food as well as good times, but the figurative, where I run and paddle and pedal as though my life depends on it. 

Good times.


Well, friends and countrymen, I did something radical and I may or may not be pressed for a secret password to prove that I am, in fact, really and truly me. I bought an electric cord for the elliptical that has been a clothes rack in the bedroom for the past 4 or so years, and it is a full-time coat hanger no more! Merely part-time, from now on. That’s the plan, anyway.

Amazon. Problem solved. They might be screwing bookstores but they are the kings of random cords which may or may not melt the display of your old and going-out-of-business exercise machine from before you joined a gym and forgot that you had your own gym machine. Rejoice!

I got my gear on this morning, only to find, though, that there was nothing to rest the ipad on. No little shelf or hooks or anything at all to keep me occupied and forget that I’m burning food that I shouldn’t have eaten. 


I was ready to pack it in before I even goT started but I cast my eye around for something. I even climbed aboard the boring thing while I wracked my brain. And I found something!

And it worked! Huzzah!

I sweated for over half an hour while reading steamy sex scenes. 36 minutes to be exact! So that just about accounted for the tiny cheesecake I ate at work yesterday, but not the cinnamon scrolls for breakfast, nor the peanut brittle, countless cookies and other chocolatey treats that I haven’t been able to leave alone in the breakroom at work. Doh! But it’s a start. It’s one small elliptical step for me, and one giant stride when the reading gets steamy. Phew!

Godzilla Me

So. Youngest is now 7. Seven years since this sassy monkey was dragged out of me.

We decided on a Godzilla theme a while back and I finalised it during the week when kids were sleeping, much to the chagrin of 9yo when he said “geez Mom, you don’t have much time to plan the party.” 

Everyone had security clearance badges and had to pass the very tight security protocols.

We learned about sightings of Godzilla and circulated a diagram of the beast and saw a pic of it/him/her eating the pile of fish, which we then ate a replica of. He insisted.

Trader Joe’s Scandinavian Swimmers are waaay better than Swedish Fish

They tried the gummy worm experiment, too. I didn’t do it quite right but the kids got a kick out of the soda overflowing, exactly like the vinegar volcanos and there were bubbles all over the worms so, a bit of excitement.

We dined on snacks and also these cool boiled eggs, made by breaking the shell and resting in food coloring until go-time.

Then it was time to find the nest because as we all know, even if the beast is dead – rightly or wrongly – the babies will always come back to haunt us. Think Batman: The Dark Knight Rises. So the kids ran off, hot on the trail of swedish fish, and they found the nest!

Here’s one I prepared earlier.

The eggs are merely water and baking soda, set in the freezer for a few hours or overnight. Add a few drops of vinegar+water and tiny dinos are revealed inside the egg. And then everyone scram and watch the movie. 

Honestly, the hardest part was getting everyone’s attention to do the background storytelling and to set the scene. After that it was all red wine and pretzels. 


Who is the Man Of Your Dreams?

This is not a trick question and I think you can only answer “my husband” if you want to ruin the fun. Spoiler:  I would say “my husband” because I proposed to him the night I met him because I thought he was the man of my dreams, but I digress.

Keanu Reeves was a love of mine well before I met Husband, and let me tell you, while I have or have had a few photos of Husband around the house, I had large posters of Keanu plastered over the walls of my bedroom in high school. And you know what? I’d do it again, the man ages well.


I wanted to watch The Lake House (2006) last night but the disc eluded me (not sure if we ever actually owned it after I woke up this morning) and our streaming is shit. I was looking for it online this morning and came across a bunch of films of his that I haven’t seen, and I think this is turning into a Keanu-ATHON, much like the other -ATHONS I see coming out at the end of the year. But a Keanu-ATHON seems like a pretty nice way to round out an occasionally fucked up and shitty year, though it was sprinkled with a few positive things, too, of course.

to name  but a few

Anyhoo, I’m going to make a list of Keanu movies and I’m going to check it twice.

 SPF-18 2017
 2017John Wick: Chapter 2 2017 yup
 To the Bone 2017
 The Bad Batch 2016
 The Neon Demon 2016
 The Whole Truth 2016
 Keanu 2016
 Exposed 2016
 Knock Knock 2015
 John Wick 2014 yup
 47 Ronin 2013
 Man of Tai Chi 2013
 Generation Um… 2012
 Henry’s Crime 2010
 The Private Lives of Pippa Lee 2009
 The Day the Earth Stood Still 2008 yup
 Street Kings 2008
 The Lake House 2006 yup
 A Scanner Darkly 2006
 Constantine 2005 yup
 Thumbsucker 2005
 Ellie Parker 2005
 Something’s Gotta Give 2003 yup
 Matrix Revolutions 2003 yup
 The Matrix Reloaded 2003 yup
 Hardball 2001
 Sweet November 2001
 The Gift 2000 yup
 The Watcher 2000
 The Replacements 2000
 Me and Will 1999
 The Matrix 1999 yup
 The Devil’s Advocate 1997 yup
The Last Time I Committed Suicide 1997
 Feeling Minnesota 1996
 Chain Reaction 1996
 A Walk in the Clouds 1995 yup
Johnny Mnemonic 1995
 Speed 1994 yup
 Little Buddha 1993
 Even Cowgirls Get the Blues 1993
 Freaked 1993
Much Ado About Nothing 1993 yup
 Bram Stoker’s Dracula 1992 yup
 Providence 1991
 My Own Private Idaho 1991
 Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey 1991 yup
 Point Break 1991 yup
 Tune in Tomorrow… 1990
 I Love You to Death 1990
 Parenthood 1989 yup
 Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure 1989 yup
Dangerous Liaisons 1988
 The Prince of Pennsylvania 1988
 Permanent Record 1988
 The Night Before 1988
 River’s Edge 1986
 Flying 1986
 Youngblood 1986
 One Step Away 1985

So, I’ma get on amazon prime right now and see what’s what, and see you next year, maybe.

Another Merry Christmas Tree

It’s December, which means it’s time for a Christmas Tree Saga from yours truly. But honestly, the drama just wasn’t there, this year, even though I chose a) the biggest tree on the lot and certainly b) the tallest of our short lives.

I dressed for the occasion

We rocked up the other day and it was still November because Husband’s travel meant he’d be away the first two weekends in December. Last year the road to perdition was muddy as fuck but being at the beginning of the festive season meant other people would get the muddy end of the stick, er trunk. Anyhoo, it was glorious outside and the kids ran around after critiquing the cider.

Aside from choosing the mobile phone tower, again, I felt like there was less to choose from, this year. In two years it looks like there’ll be a bumper crop, but I cast my eye back to the welcoming scene at the door and Husband inwardly groaned, his back twinged in anticipation. 

No, not that one

It was pre-cut and trying to catch our attention from the get-go with that seductive pose. The kids ran off the sling-shot while Husband and I had a war of eye-rolls.

Someone copped an inadvertent apple in the nuts

Everyone came to investigate and agreed that save for the mobile phone tower, it probably was, or had been, the tallest tree on the lot. The potential problem would be baling.

And carrying.

And getting it home.

But not necessarily in that order.

Anyhoo, we made it! The tree is up, no divorce in sight, and I even managed to get a few lights close to the top,

 though the star never had a chance.

Merry Christmas, y’all!