<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 24 Oct 2024 10:49:43 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>children</category><category>home</category><category>work</category><category>gardening</category><category>commentary</category><category>people</category><category>family</category><category>news</category><category>wildlife</category><category>#4</category><category>homer</category><category>smoking</category><category>writing</category><category>cat</category><category>self improvement</category><category>DCS</category><category>fiction</category><category>helium</category><category>strawberry jam</category><category>basketball</category><category>genetics</category><category>health</category><category>lemon tree</category><category>ozand england</category><category>police</category><category>shopping</category><category>spider bites</category><category>weight loss</category><category>#3</category><category>I lost my mojo</category><category>Usain Bolt</category><category>a good day</category><category>another smell</category><category>avocado</category><category>bad attitude with bells on</category><category>beanies</category><category>camping</category><category>cane toads</category><category>cardiac consultant cops a feel</category><category>ceiling fans</category><category>chickens</category><category>croatia.</category><category>dayout</category><category>death stare</category><category>diet</category><category>doh moment</category><category>dress</category><category>eggplant</category><category>embarassing moment</category><category>fame</category><category>films</category><category>free vaseline adsence</category><category>green ants</category><category>green tree frogs</category><category>gross</category><category>hair</category><category>hibiscus tea</category><category>homicidal maniac</category><category>hotties</category><category>life gets you down and then gives you a kicking</category><category>mongolia</category><category>new addiction</category><category>new talent for #4</category><category>olive oil</category><category>other blogs</category><category>paddington bear</category><category>parenting</category><category>pigeons at war</category><category>pomegranate</category><category>school</category><category>school fete</category><category>screwdriver</category><category>small boys</category><category>smiley saturday</category><category>strange but true</category><category>teenagers</category><category>the jokes on me</category><category>tomatoes</category><category>transforming the wasteland</category><category>vomit</category><category>white oil</category><title>Life as I know it</title><description>It&#39;s an interesting life.....I sometimes wish it wasn&#39;t quite so interesting....</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>222</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-834280800287363885</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 07:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-03-09T17:55:12.842+10:00</atom:updated><title>Woe is me...</title><description>My eldest child (#1) is in the Navy now. We took him to Townsville yesterday to join up. Then the nasty men took him away on plane to Melbourne.(Otherwise known as a place too far away for me to go and rescue him in one day.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been practising hurling my arms around him a crying out &quot;Don&#39;t Go, Dont go!&quot; . Alternatively, I throw my arms around his shoulders crying out &quot;Don&#39;t take my baby, Don&#39;t take my baby!&quot; I have practised this so often at home that after enlistment  when I went to give him a good-bye hug he flinched slightly, expecting me to show him up. Oh well at least he knows his mum.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I waited a full eight hours to ring him after he left.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: So was the flight all right?&lt;br /&gt;
#1: There was two&lt;br /&gt;
Me Did you change at Sydney?&lt;br /&gt;
#1: Uh&lt;br /&gt;
Me: Who told you where to go?&lt;br /&gt;
#1: We were unacompanied. (Sounding proud here)&lt;br /&gt;
Me: So you were ok with that? (Thinking to self, well I &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; see a girl with them, and he &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt; reached Melbourne)&lt;br /&gt;
#1: It was Ok there was a girl with us.&lt;br /&gt;
Me: So, where are you now?&lt;br /&gt;
#1: Airport&lt;br /&gt;
Me:?&lt;br /&gt;
#1: We&#39;ve got to wait for a bus before I can eat again. I haven&#39;t had &lt;i&gt;anything&lt;/i&gt; since we landed.&lt;br /&gt;
Me: But you had breakfast and a meal voucher for lunch,&lt;br /&gt;
#1: And a meal on each plane ride&lt;br /&gt;
Me:?&lt;br /&gt;
#1:And now I&#39;ve got to wait till we get to the barracks to eat again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope the Navy has a lot of food, but they will won&#39;t they, they&#39;re used to teenage boys.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Note to self: Watch out when buying groceries, food will not be disappearing from fridge overnight as if by magic.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/03/woe-is-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>10</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-3299716018972767249</guid><pubDate>Sun, 28 Feb 2010 12:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-28T22:07:55.957+10:00</atom:updated><title>It&#39;s my birthday...</title><description>Well it was my birthday yesterday anyway. All week people have been making me bad-tempered by asking where I&#39;m going for my birthday.. that would be nowhere. What am I getting?...that would be nothing. At the gym, oooh are you going out tonight...I doubt it. Hurrumph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I shouldn&#39;t be an evil tempered old bat, well only for fun. When I got back from the gym there was a trail of clues around the house that Homer and the children had left that led me from one place to the other until I found my present. A lovely little knick knack box..I love that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I was ordered to get dressed as we were going out and we went out for dinner. OMG. Homer even said that it wasn&#39;t that bad and maybe we&#39;d go out again, maybe even together.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-my-birthday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-2576284792055106062</guid><pubDate>Mon, 08 Feb 2010 10:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-08T20:28:48.779+10:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Birthday #4</title><description>Number 4 is ten today. I have to admit that there are times when I have wondered whether he would make it to double digits, the skateboarding down the north face of the Eiger incident for instance, or the finding of the new pet snake incident, or setting fire to the bedroom, or &quot;flying&quot; from the house roof to the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At other times he has found himself perilously close to causing his mother to expire, the worms and play-doh in the microwave incident, or the locking mum in her bedroom by tying her bedroom door to the laundry door (on a day she had a job interview), or the undoing of the bolts fastening mummy&#39;s seat to her car floor incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course outsiders have views on #4 too. The parents of the chess club that he famously locked in the library to avoid extra reading lessons, the parents of the boy he showed how to get on the school roof, but neglected to show how to get down and the parents of the boy who he told about the play-doh/worms experiment, who then decided to reproduce the experiment with a cane toad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a certain fame (or notoriety) involved in being the mother of #4. I am first name terms with the local fire, ambulance and police forces. Most of the local doctors and nurses know me though my son as well as professionally, and of course I am the source of endless merriment for these professionals at their meetings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His birthday requests? Still wants a motor bike and a chain saw.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday-4.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-3166304250703311642</guid><pubDate>Fri, 05 Feb 2010 11:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-05T21:58:07.121+10:00</atom:updated><title>Living in hope..</title><description>#4: There&#39;s no school on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What???? !!!! I&#39;m thinking to myself  &quot;OMG, who&#39;s looking after them on Monday, I&#39;ve got work, and any-way haven&#39;t they only just gone back to school after six months off!!&quot; (Slight exageration, but it felt like six months.) &quot;That&#39;s just about right, another bloody pupil free day, let the teachers break back in to work gently &quot; I&#39;ll admit by this point I was getting slightly hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What do you mean &quot;NO SCHOOL ON MONDAY!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: It&#39;s raining, we&#39;ll have a storm day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: It&#39;s Friday afternoon, On a scale of one to ten its raining at about a three, there WILL NOT be a storm day on Monday. Now be a good boy and fetch mummy&#39;s gin and valium.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/02/living-in-hope.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-4075122636282535446</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Feb 2010 07:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T20:28:31.414+10:00</atom:updated><title>A day at the zoo</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHQiREGB_OY4IrRpddOgewdZt7kGWsh6eVfTjqPnamvvlyj4VmdR0QtDaVsBNKfaNUEWHwU_Ydae2Wc75DlUiWB-uBtiZW6JBxuXzdUKYm8mPEa4hrqVN_DCGb0lKi8zfZjxCHlo6ZTPe/s1600-h/koala.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHQiREGB_OY4IrRpddOgewdZt7kGWsh6eVfTjqPnamvvlyj4VmdR0QtDaVsBNKfaNUEWHwU_Ydae2Wc75DlUiWB-uBtiZW6JBxuXzdUKYm8mPEa4hrqVN_DCGb0lKi8zfZjxCHlo6ZTPe/s200/koala.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433174970690407362&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While grand-dad was here we took him to the zoo to see the local wildlife. It was so wet that we stayed for about five minutes and gave up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get a couple of pictures of trees, and one of a very irritated koala. Koala&#39;s can be very nasty and bad tempered. This is probably because their diet disagrees with them. They have to eat eucalyptus leaves for six hours a day which then need the other eighteen hours a day to be digested and only provide enough energy for another six hours eating eucalyptus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ferns were in the crocodile pens. The crocodiles were all hiding in the water from the rain. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKcdUcQMr3tZnJgIyUmARJjaFkty8ILGGtlKKGlKeKXvBS2-A3pMSVJARdSGFDiEayZ-Em_3oVfAMoxvRV8QS9u0szCA3FJBTbikZtv4EMNUaxji7eCySde3fig0rPgIpPJCE3qUImJ0x/s1600-h/tree+fern.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 120px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKcdUcQMr3tZnJgIyUmARJjaFkty8ILGGtlKKGlKeKXvBS2-A3pMSVJARdSGFDiEayZ-Em_3oVfAMoxvRV8QS9u0szCA3FJBTbikZtv4EMNUaxji7eCySde3fig0rPgIpPJCE3qUImJ0x/s200/tree+fern.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433174965646526882&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMc5xy_CAss7dKMIXyWolcKb65fI1T9GyoXz7kv2Ss8lYmNKbiaFZrlBxEQksD7h10noT6KiCw-w2UEH0zJCmJlvdynIM9R6Zq62ZTYycukpij_9HphcD9W-Y21TXHa3A_EG3nVL60tsh/s1600-h/fern.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMc5xy_CAss7dKMIXyWolcKb65fI1T9GyoXz7kv2Ss8lYmNKbiaFZrlBxEQksD7h10noT6KiCw-w2UEH0zJCmJlvdynIM9R6Zq62ZTYycukpij_9HphcD9W-Y21TXHa3A_EG3nVL60tsh/s200/fern.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433174963942358242&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/02/day-at-zoo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHQiREGB_OY4IrRpddOgewdZt7kGWsh6eVfTjqPnamvvlyj4VmdR0QtDaVsBNKfaNUEWHwU_Ydae2Wc75DlUiWB-uBtiZW6JBxuXzdUKYm8mPEa4hrqVN_DCGb0lKi8zfZjxCHlo6ZTPe/s72-c/koala.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-307937579637174442</guid><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jan 2010 07:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-31T17:50:26.291+10:00</atom:updated><title>Dangers in the home</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczYWnlDFoJC_iFHWa2K9dbutC87Lf9DD1RAgiaEoaiWf9O3IDV2XoIgy-bBzxGU-Hqq5WHa1KNEDf6VDNp6E5r9RjI6hMuVISlTHQt9N3B4ha-2LchXTrjGu5mlhJ6JTe-Fpo-hXMU1o4/s1600-h/cooking+is+fun.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 186px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczYWnlDFoJC_iFHWa2K9dbutC87Lf9DD1RAgiaEoaiWf9O3IDV2XoIgy-bBzxGU-Hqq5WHa1KNEDf6VDNp6E5r9RjI6hMuVISlTHQt9N3B4ha-2LchXTrjGu5mlhJ6JTe-Fpo-hXMU1o4/s200/cooking+is+fun.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432807693174953890&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made beef bourguinon today. When we were frying the bacon  it was spitting, a lot, so number four came up with a solution....</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/01/dangers-in-home.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczYWnlDFoJC_iFHWa2K9dbutC87Lf9DD1RAgiaEoaiWf9O3IDV2XoIgy-bBzxGU-Hqq5WHa1KNEDf6VDNp6E5r9RjI6hMuVISlTHQt9N3B4ha-2LchXTrjGu5mlhJ6JTe-Fpo-hXMU1o4/s72-c/cooking+is+fun.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-9102757530616442205</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jan 2010 05:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-21T16:03:46.922+10:00</atom:updated><title>Reef trip</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ijchhB9oPBZghQTTTKC1ZCzqiL2ruz6_FIOC4y-J7fl0CCBUWXJXkyBljk2nbCwu_xhaOEpyFo-U_fnDzMECIpuR0IJMrOONicM1_5LggYlkZTcSwa5d8X1wwgGW7G6sily9ipCQfuei/s1600-h/SDC10629.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ijchhB9oPBZghQTTTKC1ZCzqiL2ruz6_FIOC4y-J7fl0CCBUWXJXkyBljk2nbCwu_xhaOEpyFo-U_fnDzMECIpuR0IJMrOONicM1_5LggYlkZTcSwa5d8X1wwgGW7G6sily9ipCQfuei/s200/SDC10629.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429063128693256962&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We took grandad to the reef yesterday. It&#39;s not the best time of year due to an approaching cyclone. The sea was &quot;lumpy&quot; which led me to two conclusions, 1. # 3 and I can&#39;t join the navy and 2. #4 and Homer can. &quot;How was it&quot; every-one asked. &quot;Great&quot; I replied, &quot;except for when I was throwing up or drowning due to bad snorkeling conditions. The picture is of #3 and #4 preparing to scare a shark. The red suits are stinger suits which stop jellyfish stinging you........except on your face. Shortly after this picture was taken I made both of the red devils put on life jackets as I was aging about three hundred years every two minutes trying to watch both of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually it wasn&#39;t that bad, even in the terrible conditions we travelled in due to the time of year we still saw giant clams and many different multi coloured fish. I&#39;ll go again, but in flat calm weather, and probably to Green Island so I can get solid soil under my feet. The whole trip was worth it for the photos we brought back tho, here&#39;s one of my favourites, #4 swimming with Wally the Napoleon Wrass.&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx0QJXGiB5CKbZ6lfntAo6Gs0_eJBTNWKh3FQp1f7tqhdk07nDGjQCLXR74xPkz7Wgx-IeyBEfXj5nvpdWEg14a-AA6Yy0qkv8gj6EnAcj9wqbDcoCMWUjvWKEzboWNsTRj83dHlheMRw/s1600-h/DSC_0322.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWx0QJXGiB5CKbZ6lfntAo6Gs0_eJBTNWKh3FQp1f7tqhdk07nDGjQCLXR74xPkz7Wgx-IeyBEfXj5nvpdWEg14a-AA6Yy0qkv8gj6EnAcj9wqbDcoCMWUjvWKEzboWNsTRj83dHlheMRw/s200/DSC_0322.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429067292485146930&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7TWymaItufq_MB5vBRJuM1k5QYyagbn58JDCpFP1jGrFXys1fbxWgIWogG_wFj7ZXnOYhbKLJDgDRLTEHVNpbPqrI1hPXmHl1vrlqVqX-83zG_dVvRylsi9l2WENAoke0dNS9_mrLUDz/s1600-h/Giant+clam.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7TWymaItufq_MB5vBRJuM1k5QYyagbn58JDCpFP1jGrFXys1fbxWgIWogG_wFj7ZXnOYhbKLJDgDRLTEHVNpbPqrI1hPXmHl1vrlqVqX-83zG_dVvRylsi9l2WENAoke0dNS9_mrLUDz/s200/Giant+clam.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429066404537865858&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/01/reef-trip.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ijchhB9oPBZghQTTTKC1ZCzqiL2ruz6_FIOC4y-J7fl0CCBUWXJXkyBljk2nbCwu_xhaOEpyFo-U_fnDzMECIpuR0IJMrOONicM1_5LggYlkZTcSwa5d8X1wwgGW7G6sily9ipCQfuei/s72-c/SDC10629.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1371574442342135653</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Jan 2010 11:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-20T22:05:12.495+10:00</atom:updated><title>Grand-dad meets #4</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvHDLIUSPVQRFEWINAUjk09gyuINePFyaE971PP8Va9UpjISxyy6-fYOgjW7p1iIvVUZXRdDHT8SwXUOGKcOSf_Er4jS-joZAvNrtEUv_w_-nEoFLCZZfOB5edvUoccA4Jv-F9oU6qKoC/s1600-h/SDC10544.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvHDLIUSPVQRFEWINAUjk09gyuINePFyaE971PP8Va9UpjISxyy6-fYOgjW7p1iIvVUZXRdDHT8SwXUOGKcOSf_Er4jS-joZAvNrtEUv_w_-nEoFLCZZfOB5edvUoccA4Jv-F9oU6qKoC/s200/SDC10544.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428791306985495138&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandad (my dad) is over visiting for the first time in nine years, which means he hasn&#39;t seen #4 since he was a babe in arms. In a hopeful tone of voice as #4 charged into the distance I said, &quot;He&#39;s all boy.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yes,&quot; replied grandad, &quot;but faster.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See photo for evidence.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/01/grand-dad-meets-4.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcvHDLIUSPVQRFEWINAUjk09gyuINePFyaE971PP8Va9UpjISxyy6-fYOgjW7p1iIvVUZXRdDHT8SwXUOGKcOSf_Er4jS-joZAvNrtEUv_w_-nEoFLCZZfOB5edvUoccA4Jv-F9oU6qKoC/s72-c/SDC10544.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-6612322039511534297</guid><pubDate>Sun, 17 Jan 2010 00:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-17T10:37:37.956+10:00</atom:updated><title>#4&#39;s still at it....</title><description>Early in the morning I hear the mulcher start up and fly from my bed to the garden, knowing it can only be #4. He&#39;s got through the defences in the garage and extracted the mulcher and its power cord. (Hints for other #4 mothers, always keep power cords away from power tools, it slows them down, it doesn&#39;t stop them but it slows them down.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So,I get outside in my dressing gown at 6am to find #4 mulching pumpkins (squash). He doesn&#39;t like pumpkin and he&#39;s noticed how well the pumpkin patch is doing, a problem he has now solved.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/01/4s-still-at-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-2570193550623139829</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 13:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-16T23:29:42.505+10:00</atom:updated><title>Technology and the idiot (me)</title><description>Long break from blogging due to something I did to my computer that even the spotty youths at the computer shop were baffled by, as in &quot;you did what?...and it what? so about the whisky stains.....&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any road up I just got Skype. I love it to bits! It&#39;s so easy to use. I double click on a name and there they are, a video call. Of course I have to phone by land line first to make a &quot;date.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited when I got it that I wanted to use it straight away, but first to work out what time it is on the other side of the world. I had to wake Homer up to ask him what time it would be in England....after much cursing he told me and I realised my sister would be at work. I called her work number and got her answer phone, so I left a message and hung up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slightly miffed at not playing with my new toy I got on with other things. Half an hour later I heard &quot;Bing bong...Your call has been terminated&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I hadn&#39;t hung up, just recorded my daily activities for my sister. She informs me that she cannot delete the &quot;message&quot; but will have to listen to it in its entirety. I&#39;m left  wondering what I did in that twenty minutes that might be embarrassing if she overhears it.....</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2010/01/technology-and-idiot-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-8405670329239245555</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Nov 2009 07:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-15T18:14:44.563+10:00</atom:updated><title>Spring has sprung....</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYN5FBBHN6wR3nfku9BDOK1Wzw-_Sg-Go6Pe0oyp-FgZov_NQZiEugeX1NNjGYtLkQIbk99-Zr1iNdNuiZsoAYk3fLtJHY3Z7ornYQpTUJPWuKCV88pu0wB0v_ksaN8d3rY_fIJLTC4zY/s1600-h/first+lemon+2009.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYN5FBBHN6wR3nfku9BDOK1Wzw-_Sg-Go6Pe0oyp-FgZov_NQZiEugeX1NNjGYtLkQIbk99-Zr1iNdNuiZsoAYk3fLtJHY3Z7ornYQpTUJPWuKCV88pu0wB0v_ksaN8d3rY_fIJLTC4zY/s200/first+lemon+2009.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404237962888440194&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last the rain is here and from desert wasteland the back garden has turned green. Last week we were certain that the grass would never grow again, even though experience tells us otherwise. This week the children are already complaining that I have asked them to mow the grass, twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In celebration a picture of the first lemon blossom and a lovely blue (my favourite colur) flower called yesterday, today, tomorrow. The flowers turn from blue to lilac to white and go forever.&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht3WhAgEMWbyhEHwxy3kUphXN9-6IijPzWQs7z-kHSTxqmyly9lRk9U0Rq1rb49PUbVMAUug96lb_5XYLYreCd8isYjJ0b21EdTpfHTbeiUCa_NDO0o6DP4WiYdZawZDWjnnlMLA7F-L9r/s1600-h/yesterday,today,tomorrow.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht3WhAgEMWbyhEHwxy3kUphXN9-6IijPzWQs7z-kHSTxqmyly9lRk9U0Rq1rb49PUbVMAUug96lb_5XYLYreCd8isYjJ0b21EdTpfHTbeiUCa_NDO0o6DP4WiYdZawZDWjnnlMLA7F-L9r/s200/yesterday,today,tomorrow.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404238133211661810&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the avocado and pomegranate have come back to life, although the banana hasn&#39;t survived the drought. (Sorry M, who gave it to me). M brought me a banana plant to work wrapped in bin liners. She&#39;s vertically challenged and did look rather like she was bringing a body in to work over her shoulder. Customers kept eyeing up the package in the corner, warily. That&#39;s what happens if you cheese us off I felt like saying.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/11/spring-has-sprung.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYN5FBBHN6wR3nfku9BDOK1Wzw-_Sg-Go6Pe0oyp-FgZov_NQZiEugeX1NNjGYtLkQIbk99-Zr1iNdNuiZsoAYk3fLtJHY3Z7ornYQpTUJPWuKCV88pu0wB0v_ksaN8d3rY_fIJLTC4zY/s72-c/first+lemon+2009.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-6303428516937424604</guid><pubDate>Mon, 02 Nov 2009 11:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-02T21:41:27.634+10:00</atom:updated><title>Sometimes you have to ask a different way...</title><description>Part of my job is to find out what drugs people were on before admission, including the social ones,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do you drink alcohol?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m looking at this guy and thinking, &quot;You look like you might to me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Are you sure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: So no beer or spirits or wine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not even at Christmas or at parties?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Oh, you mean besides since I was admitted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Oh well I have the occasional drink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: A slab (For the non-Aussies that&#39;s about 36 cans.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: A slab? How long does that last?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: How often do you buy a slab?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Lunch-time and on the way home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Every day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: (Short pause.) Sometimes I get an extra one at the week-end for the missus.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-you-have-to-ask-different-way.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-604708611740341409</guid><pubDate>Sat, 31 Oct 2009 02:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-31T13:18:41.765+10:00</atom:updated><title>Tips for sage smudging the house...</title><description>1.The cat likes sage smoke and chases it but I think one of the chickens may be asthmatic. Have you ever heard a wheezy chicken, its peculiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Small children help with this, but will try to set things on fire with the smudge stick if not watched carefully, so negating the whole purpose of the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do the inside of the house &lt;strong&gt;way&lt;/strong&gt; before the stick gets going properly if you want to avoid explaining to the fire brigade what brought about this false alarm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Check for neighbours...I mean what would you think if you saw a portly middle-aged woman wandering around her garden muttering to herself, followed by a cat that looks like it&#39;s having fits and a child that seems to be trying to set fire to the bushes?</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/10/tips-for-sage-smudging-house.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1245684006057166244</guid><pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2009 00:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-20T11:03:30.483+10:00</atom:updated><title>The Bambi Years..</title><description>My &lt;a href=&quot;http://melipop-babyblog.blogspot.com/&quot;&gt;sister&lt;/a&gt; has bought into Peppa pig in a big way. (No I don&#39;t know either, but I think its some sort of children&#39;s mass hypnosis experiment like Bob the Builder, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or the Teletubbies). About to leave a sarcastic comment on her blog I stopped when I recalled the BAMBI YEARS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 had a thing for Bambi. Morning, noon and night Bambi, Bambi, Bambi. I could talk along with Bambi. And note all you youngsters out there, this was vid-ee-o, a thing that was popular before DVD&#39;s. Vid-ee-o, which meant the whole family had to watch Bambi as there was no such thing as a personal Video player, or playing videos on games machines or the family computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciated Nigella&#39;s &quot;little joke&quot; about &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.channel4.com/food/recipes/chefs/nigella-lawson/christmas-shepherds-pie-aka-rudolph-pie-recipe_p_1.html&quot;&gt;Rudolph pie&lt;/a&gt; . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least it sounds like peppa pig has attitude, unlike Bambi. I used Shrek for #3 and #4 until I discovered that #3 would rather watch Stargate, and #4 likes camouflage and taking things apart. I wonder if I can get a camouflage toothbrush for him?</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/09/bambi-years.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-6818274247395673690</guid><pubDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2009 13:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-13T00:09:37.548+10:00</atom:updated><title>Question of the day....</title><description>Q: How many tiny, tiny ball bearings in a skateboard wheel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: I don&#39;t know, I haven&#39;t found all of them yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 just broke his skateboard doing a really ultimate something or other, in the front room. Now I&#39;ve got Sting in my head singing &quot;Every step you take&quot; as I manfully try and sweep thousands of tiny ball bearings up off a tile floor. (I&#39;d use my vacuum cleaner but I think they might break it.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 wants to know how he&#39;s going to practise doing his really ultimate whatevers. I have a few suggestions.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/09/question-of-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-4059172536930127185</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2009 08:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-05T18:48:45.705+10:00</atom:updated><title>Olden days?</title><description>So if I said &quot;Olden Days Music&quot; would you think, I don&#39;t know, Vaudeville? Waltzes? maybe even Billy Holliday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Where are you going with that?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: That&#39;s your brothers ipod, put it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: AAAwwwwwww&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You can borrow mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: It&#39;s full of olden days music....aaaaaahhhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I had an eclectic, and maybe old for my age taste in music, but I mean, there&#39;s ACDC, and Pink, and the Sex Pistols on it. (and Johnny Cash, and Creedance, and Led Zep and Neil Diamond admittedly, ) but OLDEN DAYS!!! I mean, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/09/olden-days.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1575871713678438576</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Aug 2009 11:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-30T21:22:50.179+10:00</atom:updated><title>The joys of home cooking...</title><description>I&#39;m often told that my children are lucky because I cook most meals from scratch. (Don&#39;t post me a halo, cooking is my hobby,) They often feel less lucky, words I have heard this week....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot; Is that one of the cute chicks that you murdered?.  Why are you attacking it with a machete? You already murdered it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank-you #3, remind me not to let you watch me joint a chicken in future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot; EEEEhuew , mum, whats that? They eat dirt, the man on animal planet said they eat dead things, look, look, its got eyes, look.....eeeehuew...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank-you #4, so now I know what crabs eat. (Slight aside, is it  a cornish thing that the lungs are called &quot;dead mens fingers&quot;? When I called them that in the fishmonger he looked at me like I&#39;d got three heads. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Eeeeeuuew, WE SAID we wouldn&#39;t eat slimy squid things and hiding them with dead mens fingers in fish cakes won&#39;t make us so there!!!!!&quot; (No, the dead mens fingers weren&#39;t in the fish cakes, reminder to self, don&#39;t take #4 to fish mongers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Mum, mum, why are you putting wee in the pan, mum....&quot; (It was chicken stock!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;This pizza isn&#39;t round, I can&#39;t eat it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Look #3, look, these carrot strings fit up my nose and when I blow...&quot; (So don&#39;t practice julienning veggies on #4&#39;s tea in future.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Mum, why&#39;s it called sticky toffee pudding? It didn&#39;t stick to the ceiling, mum.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course my all time favourite, this week, &quot; Why can&#39;t we have real food like they do on the telly.&quot;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/08/joys-of-home-cooking.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1168349472797210788</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2009 11:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-22T21:29:49.671+10:00</atom:updated><title>Making beds a la #4</title><description>&quot; #4 make your bed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;No, I mean sheet, pillow and put the quilt back on the bed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot; Bring it back from the garden then.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;What do you mean the roof?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Just bring it in.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;ON your bed, NOT under your bed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I&#39;ll be back in a minute, just make sure its all on your bed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loud crash, followed by cat yowling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;What was that?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;What do you mean an allan key?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;When I said MAKE your bed I meant put the sheet and quilt back on it. I did NOT mean take it apart with the allan key you had hidden when the man came to fix the washer.&quot;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/08/making-beds-la-4.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1636114462912539237</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 Aug 2009 02:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-06T12:58:36.452+10:00</atom:updated><title>Phone tales #2</title><description>Me: has anyone seen my phone?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence. I think to myself that I&#39;m sure I brought it back from the ward and put it on that shelf there, and then I? Mmmm, I ring it. Silence. Maybe when I went back to the ward I took it with me and left it there? I go back to the ward and go around the beds. No, no phone. I ring my phone from the ward phone. Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back to the department, keeping an eye out in case I dropped my phone. No. I get back to the department and use the department phone to ring my phone. I walk around the department listening for my phone. Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually the switchboard answer my &quot;phone&quot;. No, they haven&#39;t got my phone, its just been ringing so long with no answer that it has diverted to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand befuddled in the department, gazing hopelessly into space. Where oh where did I leave my phone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleague: &quot;Whose phone is this?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;Mine, Oh thank-you, where was it?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleague: &quot;At the back of the cold room, see it&#39;s covered in frost.&quot; (And it is, it&#39;s little screen has ice crystals on it.)</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/08/phone-tales-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-6029306778794942201</guid><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2009 09:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-01T19:21:39.717+10:00</atom:updated><title>Let me paint you a picture...</title><description>My sister was discussing with me on the phone how much she had to get done this week. She&#39;s singing at a wedding on Friday but has much to get done before then, including nursing our cantankerous father after his hip replacement. (Pain makes him cranky but taking pain killers is a sign of weakness.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSiPO7Dar-3NOMBsjjlHaDLIsDJQLc__fFQHY6aVoAlfAwnyFnh20dvaVksm4m4gkqllKXelorlSj_ePW1t3V8AR_xdSGwP550lIxiw5z-CEcI3W5Hz7UJ9wA7qfjOSi3uoj5IN2CPPX5j/s1600-h/hemes+leger+bandage+dress.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 69px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSiPO7Dar-3NOMBsjjlHaDLIsDJQLc__fFQHY6aVoAlfAwnyFnh20dvaVksm4m4gkqllKXelorlSj_ePW1t3V8AR_xdSGwP550lIxiw5z-CEcI3W5Hz7UJ9wA7qfjOSi3uoj5IN2CPPX5j/s200/hemes+leger+bandage+dress.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364922973074724962&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bride has offered her a spray tan, but she doesn&#39;t know how she&#39;ll fit it in. This is probably a good idea she says, as the last time she had one she was orange and &quot;Looked like fourteen Victoria Beckhams in one Hermes Leger bandage dress all fighting to get out.&quot;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/08/let-me-paint-you-picture.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSiPO7Dar-3NOMBsjjlHaDLIsDJQLc__fFQHY6aVoAlfAwnyFnh20dvaVksm4m4gkqllKXelorlSj_ePW1t3V8AR_xdSGwP550lIxiw5z-CEcI3W5Hz7UJ9wA7qfjOSi3uoj5IN2CPPX5j/s72-c/hemes+leger+bandage+dress.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1994159589165483757</guid><pubDate>Thu, 30 Jul 2009 09:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-30T20:00:30.524+10:00</atom:updated><title>Phone tales #1</title><description>We carry phones around at work. The advantage is that we can be found anywhere at any time to answer queries and problems from our wards. The disadvantage is that we can be found at any time to answer queries and problems...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course remembering to carry these phones everywhere can be challenging for some of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleague: Has any one seen my phone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: No, try ringing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleague: Yeah, I&#39;ll do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A loud ringing is heard from the colleague. She looks down. Her phone is attached to a lanyard around her neck........&lt;br /&gt;(and these are not small handsets, think brick sized.)</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/07/phone-tales-1.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-7478294982911204637</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Jul 2009 11:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-25T21:24:30.682+10:00</atom:updated><title>You know you&#39;ve been at work too long when...</title><description>Colleague.&quot; Is there a dead lion?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;No&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &quot;Why are you asking me about dead lions?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleague: &quot; No.  A dead line.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&quot; &quot;Oh.&quot;</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-know-youve-been-at-work-too-long.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-6044799801165225726</guid><pubDate>Sun, 19 Jul 2009 11:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-19T22:04:01.848+10:00</atom:updated><title>Heard over a hospital bed today...</title><description>No No NO    I said &lt;strong&gt;his&lt;/strong&gt; left not your left.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/07/heard-over-hospital-bed-today.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-1440987801007563483</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Jul 2009 01:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-17T11:33:51.412+10:00</atom:updated><title>Reasons for not bathing ...</title><description>It&#39;s always been a bit of a problem getting #4 clean, and now he&#39;s finally told me why. Apparently water makes his skin feel &quot;funny&quot;. When pushed I discover that &quot;funny&quot; means &quot;wet&quot; and/or &quot;clean&quot;. I suggested maybe a shower instead of a bath.  He assures me that that would be even worse, as it would involve getting his hair wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed out to him that getting wet didn&#39;t cause him any problems when it meant playing in the storm drains . He  assured me that that is different, as the water is already dirty in there.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/07/reasons-for-not-bathing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2336341271966564266.post-9220790750025232345</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jun 2009 13:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-23T23:35:36.282+10:00</atom:updated><title>Short but sweet....</title><description>Child 2&#39;s most memorable report comment. She changed schools in her last year, and with great trouble and after loud demands was put into a manual arts class. (Woodwork and stuff).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of year report for manual arts: &quot;#2 who? &quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hadn&#39;t attended a single lesson and the teacher thought her name was a mistake on his enrolment list.  At least it explained why I didn&#39;t get a new mug tree and stool that year.</description><link>http://everedstone.blogspot.com/2009/06/short-but-sweet.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item></channel></rss>