i've been tagged

I have been tagged by Lin! (Sorry Lin, I am hopelessly useless at getting these done quickly).

So, six quirky, yet boring, unremarkable facts about me...?

1. I am medically infertile and have a 0% chance of falling pregnant without fertility treatment. What a blessing our little gherkin is! (hooray for modern medicine).

2. I like to mix foods... a mouthful of savoury, a mouthful of sweet and so on. One of my former housemates (a dietitian) told me it fools your body into thinking you are eating less - you can fit more in this way (oh dear). I also like to finish each meal with the perfect mouthful, so you will see me leaving the tiniest bit of this and that on my plate so I can finish with one gorgeous combined mouthful of the best bits!

3. When I was a little kid, I wanted to be: a nun, an opera singer, a nurse, an architect, a graphic designer, a journalist. Some of these ideas still sounds really good! I grew up to be none of these.

4. I am tactile defensive. There are some things I just don't like to touch. Like some velveteen type fabrics, or wet fallen leaves, that "slime" stuff you used to be able to get in a jar in the 80s, feathers (especially if I am not expecting them), uncooked egg whites. Sometimes these just make me feel a bit off, I get goosebumps and cold chills up and down my spine, or some things (like plastic bags of cornflour) make me gag.

5. I am living in my nineteenth home (I think that's right but may be underestimating by a few). My favourite home, obviously, is with my boys (the hubby, the baby and the pug). But my favourite house was here:

6. When I got pregnant, my body changed forever (not entirely surprising!). Before I was pregnant, I had seven freckles and three moles in total. Now I have too many to count. Perhaps more freakish is that I never used to grow toenails on my little toes... and now I do (I even have to cut them).

7. Sometimes, when I am bored or stressed, I count my steps. I think it all started when I first filled in a Dr Seuss? book all about me. One of the things you had to do was to count the steps to your letterbox, the nearest tree, the local shop etc etc.

Now... which bloggers out there shall I tag? Will get back to you shortly...

Have a gorgoeus week xo

lost for words

Kevin Rudd, our PM, lost for words

I have been struggling to think of what to write here about the Victorian bushfires. I decided if our PM couldn't come up with the right words, it was ok if I couldn't either.

Obviously we are thinking about those in the fire affected areas, your families, friends, animals.

You can make a donation here.

the lady of the toilet (or, how summer pickles got her groove back)

Toilets. by Britt Selvitelle

Firstly, apologies to those of you visiting for craft updates - this is not one of them. Though, perhaps DIY is not too far from crafty?

Recently i was bemoaning the fact that i felt i had lost my independence completely... i have no money of my own (mind you the pickles have always done what's mine is yours etc etc), i haven't really any time of my own, and, i confess, we have fallen into the trap of "you do the boy jobs and i 'll do the girl jobs" since having the gherkin.

So, when our 1968 toilet died on the weekend (actually, no it didn't quite die, but the problems it had were terminal), i was tempted to call Mr Pickles to do something. but instead, i rolled up the sleeves (metaphorically speaking of course - we live in sunny Melbs, so there were no sleeves) and got to work. thanks to dr google, i was able to diagnose the toilet's problems, disassemble the toilet, take a trip to bunnings (toilet pieces in hand), gather the pieces needed to make a repair and then reassemble the toilet.

Was it a dirty job? YES

Did it take a whole day? YES

Did i feel completely brilliant after it was all done and completely repaired? ABSOLUTELY!
(evidence being this post that i am writing, still basking in the post-toilet-repair glow some five days later!)

One of the best benefits of our repair was the thought that we will also now be flushing less water, quite literally, down the toilet, and getting ourselevs that little closer to the melbourne 155 target.

But the best bit? singing "i am mummy, hear me roar" to the gherkin all night (or course inserting toilet repair terminology throughout!)... nothing like some time with tools to get a gal's confidence back!

Chat soon lovelies xo