Don't Drink Dishwashing Liquid

Yes, that's what I said... don't drink dishwashing liquid.

I had one of life's little moments a short while ago. I accidentally guzzled down about 300mls of dishwashing liquid.

How on earth could this be possible? you ask.

Well... for many years I've kept my dish washing liquid in a bottle next to the taps so I could grab it and squirt a small amount into the sink whenever I needed to.

It just so happens that I've been drinking cordial out of a similar bottle.

Ahh, yes. Now the penny drops.

For whatever reason, this morning I just grabbed the wrong bottle and had drunk quite a bit before my brain kicked in and said: "Hey dude, do you know you're drinking soap?"

Ugh! Not at all pleasant. In fact, bloody revolting!

I grabbed the water and drank and drank and drank. I then grabbed the cordial [in the correct bottle this time] and drank and drank and drank. Then I drank a cup of tea. Then I ate bread. Then I had lunch. Then I drank some more.

I think I'm all "drinked" out!

Apart from the fact that it burned my throat a little, I couldn't get rid of the taste!

Now I have a headache - probably from drinking too much water - but I'm not brave enough to try taking anything for it in case it fizzes or something. Well... you never know, do you.

My throat is still a little scratchy and my voice is husky, but so far I haven't encountered too many ill effects. I'm still waiting to see if it makes me sick or something.

I simply cannot believe I did that.

For the rest of the day I plan to just sit around. I don't want to jump up and down too much - I might begin to bubble.

Moral of the story: DON'T STORE DISH WASHING LIQUID IN DRINK BOTTLES!!!

Pippin

Pippin
January 2000 - September 2006
Little dog with a great big heart

It's a very sad day today.

My little Pippi died at 2.00 p.m.

He and I were just walking around to the front of the house and came upon a tiger snake laying on the path. It was in a very nasty mood and decided to get us before we could get it. Of course, Pip had to have a go at it.

I didn't see it bite him but I did find a tiny mark above his left eye. Pip was paralysed and died not long afterwards.

I stayed with him right until the end. My poor little Pippi.

I'm going to miss my little mate. He was always happy, always had a big doggy grin on his little foxy face and his tail was perpetually wagging.

Goodbye for now, little Pip Squeak. Go find your little mate Blue and wait for me with the others.

We'll walk this place together again some day. I'll look forward to that.

RAMBO

Rambo had to take a little trip to the vet on Wednesday. You can't imagine how much fun that was - for him or me.

Firstly, Rambo is a BIG cat. He weighs 10kgs and is almost one metre long from nose to tail tip when stretched out. He's big.

I have a reasonably large picnic basket that I squashed him into - and I do mean "squashed" him into and locked the lid down. I didn't dare carry it by the handles. I was afraid they'd fall off.

Tiger the dog was due for his 12 month vaccination, heart worm injection, etc. So I booked them both in at the same time.

Please remind me not to do that again.

Although they were very well behaved, it was quite a saga for me.

You see, Rambo has a voice to match his size. And he really objects to being taken anywhere in a car. And object he did. Very loudly all the way to the vet and all the way back. Luckily we only live a short distance away. I'd hate to have to listen to that for longer than 5 minutes. Even with the car windows rolled up, people on the streets were turning to see what was going on.

So... Tiger had his injections and went back out to the car like a good boy. No trouble at all for him.

Then it was Rambo's turn.

I bet you think I'm going to launch into a tale of how difficult it was to handle him. Well, I'm not. Rambo is probably one of the most gentle, most easy going cats you'd ever meet. He's an absolute dream when it comes to being handled or given medication of any kind.

He was poked, prodded, had needles stuck in him, his mouth forced open... You name it.

He took it all in is stride and didn't utter a single sound of protest. [The car is the only thing that makes him go off like a fire siren.]

The sad news is, that poor old Rambo is now a diabetic.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that the cats' water bowl was always near empty. Having two cats, it's sometimes difficult to judge whether it's one or both who are eating or drinking everything.

I also noticed that the bottom of the litter tray was unusually more soaked in urine than it should have been.

Our other cat, Dixi, is only 6 years old and we've had her since she was 7 weeks old. I knew it was unlikely to be her. She's never had a weight problem in her life and apart from one nasty road accident, her health has always been excellent.

I watched Rambo more closely and noticed that he was at the drink bowl more often than what I thought was normal for a cat. Then, every time I heard someone in the litter tray I raced in to see who it was - and earned many a concerned look from Rambo. I think I managed to convince him that I had developed some sort of weird litter tray fettish.

Anything out of the ordinary when it comes to animals, is often an indication of something wrong, so I booked an appointment for him with the vet as soon as I could.

Finding out he was a diabetic wasn't really a surprise for me. I brought Rambo home about three years ago and at that stage he weighed over 13 kgs. I was afraid he'd literally eat himself to death.

I wasn't all that successful at reducing his weight either, but I did try. He lost three kgs. For his size, an ideal weight for him would be around 8 kgs.

It was his age that surprised me the most. I had him pegged as being around 8 years old, possibly 9.

The vet laughed.

"So how old do you think he is?" I asked. "10? 11? 12?"

Try about 17 years old.

Wow! I had no idea. He neither looked nor acted like a really old cat. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Not that it makes any difference. I still love him just the same. It makes me all the more aware that our time together is going to be a lot shorter than I expected. But then, you never know these things - do you?

So now I have to give Rambo insulin injections twice a day for the rest of his life and feed him special Diabetic Cat Food.

There's no question about it, no issue, no trouble at all. I'll do anything I have to do to keep him as fit and healthy as he can be for as long as his life holds out.

The vet showed me how to give him an injectin and off we went back home - Tiger sitting happily in the back of the car, Rambo wailing like a siren in the front seat and me grimacing at the strange looks I was getting from people on the streets.

Three days into his routine, Rambo seems much brighter and more alert. He doesn't seem to mind his needles. He takes them without comment, without a flinch and absolutely no protest. He's a wonderful old boy.

He may be 17 years old - or even older - but I aim to keep him alive for a lot longer.

Good luck to you Rambo. You deserve to enjoy your retirement.

Devil Sticks

OK, I suppose I am a little old for this (I turned 47 on August 25), but I had to give it a go.

Devil Sticks.

Yep. Now I'm hooked. I'm carrying them around the house with me all the time now.

Stupid idea really. You grab a couple of pieces of dowel wrapped in rubber or leather and you hit another piece of dowel with tassles on each end of it, and you keep it in the air between the two sticks by throwing it from one stick to the other in a pendulum type of rhythm. Kind of like juggling with sticks.

Sounds easy, doesn't it.

A friend of mine was having a go at the Wellbeing Expo I was at on the weekend. Well, I just couldn't resist having a try. He made it look like it was something that I could actually do. So...

Click click bang! Try again. Click click click bang! Again... click bang. Again... click click click click bang! (The "bang" being the stick hitting the floor - at this stage more bangs than clicks.)

A crowd developed - mainly to laugh at my really unco attempts compared to Aaron's more than halfway decent spins and gyrations. Well, at least they were entertained.

So was I. So much so that I brought a set of sticks home with me, and now after one whole day I can go... click click click click click bang!

This is surprisingly physical. I was exhausted after 5 minutes. This morning I discovered that my leg muscles, my arms, wrists, and various other muscles I obviously haven't used a lot lately, are quite sore.

Great. Exercise and loads of fun all rolled into one. Just the thing for me. I might even master these things - eventually.

Aaron said he intends to start busking in Bright this summer and laughingly suggested that I should join him. I think he has in mind that I'll be the comic relief. He'll show everyone how it's done and I'll show everyone how bloody impossible it is to do. OK buddy, you're on! You and me - devil stick duels in the park this summer.

No, really, I'm serious... honest...

Summer isn't all that far away now. It's spring on Friday. Yikes! I'd better get back out there and practice... click click click....

Tiger is 1 Year Old

Our little Tiger is all grown up.



From this at 7 weeks old...





to this....

Friday, August 18, 2006



Tiger 1, Pippin 6, Geoff... well we just won't go there!


Happy Birthday Tiger.
May you have many, many, many more.


It's hard to believe that almost a year ago we brought home this tiny little pup that fitted into the palms of our hands and he grew up to be the big, lanky young dog we see today.

Now we have two handsome dogs around the place.

What A Rip-Off!

Good old VicRoads strikes again!

I rang VicRoads today to make an appointment for my son to take his ute in for registration tomorrow.

After enduring the obligatory press 1 for this, press 2 for that, and the 10 minute wait for the operator to come on, I was stunned to learn that I had to pay $32.60 just to book an appointment.

I asked if Rhys could pay that fee when he turned up for his appointment, but they said if I didn't pay immediately, the booking would very likely "drop off the system" [their words, not mine]. Because I knew he needed to get his car registered as soon as possible I agreed to pay.

I had to make the appointment in my own name, not his, because they needed my driver's license number in order to make the appointment. Then I had to pay via credit card over the phone in order to secure that appointment.

How disgusting!

How much money is that organisation making if they charge everyone who is forced to make an appointment with them? What are they doing with that money? Is it really legal to charge a booking fee for a service that you pay in full for on the day you receive that service?

You think I didn't get on my soap box about this one? Think again! I reported it to a television program. I'm also going to report it to an investigative television program. Nothing might come of it, but people need to be aware that this is happening.

I really hate being ripped off.

The Kidney Transplant Issue

I've noticed on my IGAN (Imunoglobular A Nephropathy) site that some of the members have family members offering to donate kidneys. How wonderful. What a gift.

I'm afraid I'm one of the many who will have to leave that in the laps of the Gods. I was adopted as a baby and only found my natural family a few years back. We have a great relationship, but I feel I could never ask any of them "the big question".

I haven't even told them of my condition yet. I don't want them to feel obligated in any way. It's a strange situation. My mother signed the adoption papers in the hope that I would be given a much better life than I'd get if I was kept with the rest of the family. I think she'd be very upset to know I'm actually dying.

It's not that I think that any of my family wouldn't donate if they could, but my sister and two brothers both have families of their own and grandchildren. I know that there is a high possibility that any of them could develop IGAN some time in the future. My sister is suffering very high blood pressure now and hasn't found the cause. I'm going to suggest to her that she ask her doctor to send her for some tests. It might just be me being over-sensitive to the issue, but you never know, do you.

On the donation issue - I'd hate to think that our mother, father, brother - whoever - donated a kidney to me then found that their own child or grandchild might need one. I just couldn't do that.

I'm hoping that my condition keeps progressing very slowly and that I won't have to think about it for another 10 years at least - fingers crossed.
I am at peace with my condition and my mortality. I have truly left it up to God when it comes to that.

In the meantime... I'm too full of life to let this damned condition get in the way of a good time. Aches, pains and tiredness aside - I intend to squeeze every last drop of life out of this poor broken down body. I was looking forward to becoming old, wrinkly and interesting. I might even make it yet!

See you soon.

No More Mice in My Drawers

That's right! No more mice in my office drawers. After the spider in the computer incident, I've been a bit jumpy in here.

The other day I discovered that the little rodenty pests had been in one of my desk drawers. Why that particular one and not all the others, I don't know.

Rambo and Dixi made a quick meal each of the two culprits and - to my horror - their offspring. Ugh!

So, today - Saturday morning - I decided to brave the violated drawer and tip everything out of it to inspect the damage.

I was lucky. There were a lot of photographs in that drawer, but the mice only chewed a few bits of paper and a couple of the outer covers of the photo envelopes. Whew! I'm sure glad my father's old war photos were untouched. Those are definitely not replaceable.

I vacuumed out the drawer and cleaned everything down. Then I brought out my master weapon of mouseproofness. Ye olde peppermint oil.

Mice hate peppermint oil. I don't know why. Perhaps it upsets their delicate noses or something. Whatever it does, it keeps them away and is harmless to everything else. Insects hate it too.

I wiped heaps of peppermint oil all over the wooden drawer and made sure it soaked in. Then I wiped all around the desk with it. My office now smells lovely.

The cats don't seem to mind the smell. At this moment, Dixi is sitting with her nose against Sprite's cage watching with a worrying degree of interest.

Remember little Sprite the sparrow I hand reared early this year? She's all grown up now and is a bright, cheerful member of our family. She's such a friendly little bird, it makes me wonder why people don't domesticate them and raise them as pets.

Don't get me wrong, I'd never take a bird from the wild and keep it in a cage. Sprite was just one of those accidents that occur once in a while. She was never meant to survive. But she did. And... like poor old Mintie before her, she's not a bit afraid of the cats!

That's all for now. I have to put the washing on the line, then it's back into The Shadow Runners.

See ya!

The "Other" Kind of Computer Bug

I'm finally back on line again after yet another computer disaster.

This time, thankfully, I didn't have to buy a completely new computer and didn't have to fork out hundreds of dollars. Whew! However, the problem had our resident computer man, Michael, perplexed for quite a few hours.

We'd had a major power break down in Wangaratta that fateful day and I turned my computer off to save it. The emergency battery powered back-up system worked perfectly so that when the power went off, my computer remained on and unharmed until I turned it off manually.

All should have been well. But, of course, it wasn't. When I turned the computer back on, it ran for 10 minutes then shut itself off. I turned it on again. It ran for 10 minutes and shut down again. After three goes at that and a lot of inventive language usage I called in the expert.

The computer was taken apart and put back together and there didn't seem to be a problem. Nothing was "fried". Everything seemed to be working. Michael was a bit thrown. The machine kept turning off after 10 minutes. As you would expect, the machine is not on when it is being "fixed" and while it was off, there were no visible problems. When taken apart, each separate part functioned perfectly.

Not to be deterred, our intrepid expert powered up the computer and stood back to watch it's inner workings. Everything worked - except the internal cooling fan. So, being a good little computer, it shut itself down to avoid overheating after 10 minutes.

Asking the obvious question, Michael removed the fan to investigate. And there, wrapped around the fan, was the problem.

A great big hairy spider had crawled inside my computer and become wrapped around the fan. Result:- dead spider; dead fan.

I'm glad it wasn't me who had to unravel the dead body from the spindle of the fan. I'm having a hard enough time imagining myself sitting here typing while that enormous "thing" was sneaking around my desk mere centimetres away from my hands. Aaaargh!

Moral of the story? Computers can be killed by "other" types of bugs!

I guess this would come under the heading of "Stupid Things That Can Happen to Computers", and - I swear - it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I'm blonde!!

Catch up with you all soon.

Shadow Runners Update

I managed to rework the first five chapters of Shadow Runners over the weekend. I'm now working on chapters 6 and 7. I cut heaps out and joined chapters 2 and 3 into one.

The problem is that I had to keep in certain events that there's no time to work into the later parts of the story, so I didn't end up cutting as much as I originally intended to.

When I've finished the slice and dice, I'll go back and read it from start to finish and see what is "actually" in the book. It's so long since I've read most of it.

So many things have changed since the original concept of the novel that the ending is nothing like it once was. I hope this is working out for the better. I guess I'll find out when I read the whole thing.

I still have to finish off the last couple of chapters, but I thought it was more important that I fix up the rest of the story first.

If you don't lay the foundations right, the house comes tumbling down.

It's the same with short stories and novels. If the events at the start don't lead in a logical way towards events at the end, then you haven't really got a story.

You also have to make sure that, in the middle of your novel, you haven't wandered around in circles without advancing the story towards the eventual climax. The middle part is the dangerous part. You're all fired up at the start. You're caught up in the climax at the end. The middle is where you waffle if you're not careful.

You have to make sure you keep your writing tight and moving along at a fast pace. Of course, you don't want to have the pace so frantic that your readers get exhausted just reading it. There is a happy medium. That's what I'm going to make sure I have.

Catch you all next time.