Bonnie: Remember that time the dog ate my muesli bar?
Harriet: Yes, it was about half an hour ago.

When I found out that Peter Garrett had joined the ALP, I was in shock. I am so disappointed. If you had asked me which political party I believed he was most likely to join I would have said the Peter Garrett Party. Because surely such an opinionated man would not bow to one of the big guns? Obviously I was wrong. I have always admired Peter Garrett's strength of character and opinion. I have admired his forthrightness in expressing disdain at political decision making and the treatment of environmental matters by government.

Now apparently we are to believe that it was all for the sake of music. Today's Sun-Herald reports Mr Garrett as saying "The funny thing is that people are treating Midnight Oil like they were a policy unit of some kind. They are song lyrics, they are not political policies. Sometimes they were written by other members of the Oils, I've always sung them, but they're not political policies for 2004. They are rock'n'roll songs that were produced over a range of 25 years."

I suspect the whole Peter Garrett/Labour venture is an attempt to score the votes of a generation of oils-lovin folk, whose age would span the range of 20's to 50's. In light of the fact that Little Johnny has the backing of the US govt who are making not-so-veiled threats pertaining to the fact that our country's best bet in the battle against terrorism is to keep bush-arse-licking Howard in power, Labour most likely figures that desperate times call for desperate measures. Perhaps Garrett thinks it is worth flushing his former moral convictions down the toilet to assist in saving the country from yet another term under John Howard.

I don't know the reasoning behind it all, I just know that I am very, very disappointed. That someone who once held a nation of fans in awe of his anti-political anti-war pro-environmental stance can so completely and suddenly backtrack in the name of politics utterly astounds me. It is a world gone mad.

yes, somewhat of a rarity around here, but as it was only a small project, it got finished! Here it is, Bonnie's Brisbane Bronco's Knitted Beanie:

Now Amarina wants one too, so that is next on the list - that school scarf keeps getting pushed aside!

I will put the pattern up on Harriet Knits when I work out how to make a colour chart that I can post to the site! Also I'm not experienced at writing patterns out, I kind of just make stuff with the blind faith that it will all work to the plan in my head - most of the time this works, so I don't bother writing patterns prior to beginning the knitting - this may take me a little while to work out :o)

Having a sore throat with this spootiness going on, I have beside me on the desk (actually beside the keyboard, not beside me, as the keyboard is on the desk too and I'm in front of the desk) a box of Butter-Menthol throat lozenges. Just a moment ago as I was taking one from the packet to put in my mouth and soothe my scratchy sore throat, a little voice in my head (my voice actually) said quite clearly "Allen's Butter Menthol". hmmm, butter menthol must be made by allen's, I thought, for that to come into my head like that. I looked on the box for the little oval Allen's logo, which I could see quite clearly on the box in my head.. it must be there... but no.. on the back is the Nestlé logo, but no Allen's to be seen. Perhaps I imagined that Allen's made butter menthol, I thought. Then, certain that I had previously seen the Allen's logo on butter menthol packets, I realised that Nestlé must have bought out Allen's. So I checked the Dick Smith Company Ownership page and sure enough, Nestlé now own Allen's.

It seems to me that Nestlé have been on a company buying spree in recent years, as their logo is becoming an increasingly common sight on products previously sporting the logos of other companies.
What is next? Will we eventually witness the merger of Nestlé, Cadbury Schweppes and Coca Cola, ending up with one big super-company - the Big Brother of groceries - with complete market control resulting in exorbitantly overpriced foodstuffs with no competition to keep prices down?

Perhaps the "little people" down here in not-earning-$100k/yr-thank-you-very-much land will learn the art of self-sufficiency due to simply not having the funds to pop down to the shops for the daily essentials. We would end up with backyard grain mills and the Joe Bloggs dairy farm.. resulting in small business starting up and... oh my goodness, I've come full circle and allayed my own fears.. look at that.

I think I need some more aspro.

one day last week while I was out and about, I almost dropped my house keys, and with the position I was in at the time, they would have fallen down a grate and into a stormwater drain. This almost-an-incident reminded me of my first day in Glasgow, Scotland, which had the potential to be a very disastrous day indeed.

It was Friday October 25th 2002, and the girls and I had just arrived in Glasgow from Manchester on an overcrowded Virgin train. After paying almost £50 for a train ticket, the girls and I ended up sitting on our luggage in a carriageway along with several other disgruntled passengers. Amarina, aged seven at the time, was feeling very unwell and spent most of the three hour journey sleeping on the floor with passengers making their way around her. Bonnie, who was also off-colour and two days short of her second birthday, slept on my lap part of the way and played on the floor for the rest of the trip.

On arriving at Central Station in Glasgow, we were met on the platform by my cousin Louise, who had just finished a stint working in Loch Lomond and was staying in Glasgow overnight before catching a flight to London the next morning, and had arrived in Glasgow an hour or so before us.

It was about 3.30pm when we arrived and we caught a cab to the hotel to get settled in there.
After making all of the necessary arrangements at the front desk, we started to pack the luggage and children into the elevator to go up to our room. I had carried the luggage into the lift and Amarina was pushing Bonnie in her stroller. Instead of putting these things into my bumbag (a backpacker's must-have accessory), I had in my hand: my VISA card, 2 room-key cards and some info about the hotel.

Bonnie's stroller was halfway over the threshold of the elevator when the doors started to close.. I leapt forward to open the doors and everything that was in my hand fell to the floor of the elevator. I glimpsed a card disappearing down the shaft and while ushering the children through the doors, had the fleeting thought: "I hope that was a room-key card." This thought was shattered, however, by Louise's shout: "Your VISA card!" I responded "Holy Shit, was that my VISA card?"
Louise replied that yes, it was and convinced me to take the children and luggage up to the room while she sorted it out at the front desk.

At this point, I should mention that my VISA card was my ONLY source of funds whilst travelling. I had no way of accessing the money in my bank account without this card.

Trembling somewhat, I got the children settled into the hotel room, sorted out whose bed was which, etc, whilst worrying about what would happen if my card could not be retrieved from the elevator shaft. Louise came to the room a short time later with the message that the lovely lady at the front desk was going to call the elevator maintenance people to come and look at the situation. For legal reasons, the hotel staff were unable to attempt to retrieve my card themselves, even though they had looked and could see it sitting at the bottom. She said that I would get a phonecall from the front desk to let me know what was happening.

The first call I received was to inform me that the elevator maintenance people would be on their way as long as I agreed that I may have to pay up to £80 for the retrieval of my card. At the time, this equated to approximately $240 Australian dollars, but there was no alternative, and so of course I agreed.

The second call was to inform me that the elevator maintenance people were there and had told her that my card was retrievable and it would cost me £50, I had to agree to this amount before they continued. Again, I agreed.

A short time after the second call, I received a third call from the front desk lady informing me that she had my VISA card in her hand and that she had told the elevator maintenance people that I was travelling on my own with two small children and they decided to waive the fee! I have never been so grateful and thankful and relieved and appreciative!

This was the beginning of my love affair with the beautiful country that is Scotland.

found in today's Warehouse catalogue:

hmmm, yes, I can clearly see Rover shugging off his jocks prior to lifting his leg at the power pole...

I guess we all knew I would do it sooner or later... I couldn't wait to show kitty off - yes he/she is still with us and he/she is still uncomfortable showing his/her anatomy and pulls his/her legs together when I try and take a look.. so here he/she is:

Edit: I took advantage of sleeping kitty and found testicles - kitty is definitely a boy-kitty! Isn't he cute!