Son of a gun

So there I am all blackpowder with mood. This isn’t Jericho and those walls aren’t crumbling in fact my armies are ready, are yours?  Whether that assault comes floating through the mortar like music or stinging through the air like arrows.  All blackpowder am I and I will not surrender today!

But then a scraping sound and I look over my shoulder to see the son of a gun.

Pushing a prewrapped pack of three tissue boxes as you do in times of war. Pushing pushing like that little boy from the trading post ad. Pushing over to the guest chair in my home office. And I watch his little blue metal eyes fixed to the chair. Push. Push. I blink.

Son of a gun, he’s climbed onto the guest chair and onto my table and plonked himself down on the keyboard that not 2minutes prior had been hot with my plans and my strength. Squishyclick. All the keys pressed in at once.  Squishy squilch – oh is that smell what I think it is?

I give up.

I surrender.

You want to double the budget? rescind the contract? do a naked victory dance on the walls? Go ahead I’ve got a nappy to change.


Top Gear Australia

OK, so this is possibly my first slightly intoxicated post.. so forgive me if I can’t type properly or spell or get the grammar all correct. Having said that I am pretty sure my grammar could kick your grandma if it came down to it.

This is my official review on the long awaited arrival of Top Gear Australia.

It wasn’t ALL suckful.

Yes Aussie Stig did exhibit man-boobs or moobs as Flick pointed out. Incidentally Felicity –  I’ve never called you Flick but every1 else does and I need every bit of shorthand I can get in my current state…so I do apologise.

Also, I tolerated every1 except the stupid host, Charlie Cox. He is NO Jeremy clarkson. I actually had to adjust the tv volume several times to even make out what the hell he was saying. Ocker is good, plain Aussie is fine but this hybrid English-wanker-dyed-blonde-oldie-who-reads-expression-from-a-script really didn’t satsify my lust for the experience that resonates through the voice of the driven individual. What the hell is with your complete lack of expression and the hair man?

I did dig Warren in the shark cage – maybe because I was hoping one of those babies nipped off his facial hair. He didn’t try to be James May but was anyway which was bearable.

All of the quips were funny if you listened but lacked the comic timing of their UK counterparts but I was pleased to see a few super cars as I dreaded my Monday being completely filled with Holdens and Fords. Hmm I think that’s what they forecast for next weeks episode (sigh).

So I will watch again next week but I better have as nice a wine to test drive or I might not make the distance. What did you think? Because I haven’t got time to traverse the net and read every1s blog – I have more wine to drink.


I am not quite attached to this house yet but then again maybe I am beginning to become attached. It is still early days in our relationship but I think I am beginning to form a relationship with it. For instance It hasn’t caught on fire once, to my knowledge. It has only flooded about 100 times but I think that has more to do with my calm mop-handle-pokes-hole-in-gutter taichi move. I gave my house new gutters though and it is doing much better these days.

So why would I want at this point to sell it to a developer? Aha I was not talking about coders but the real nitty gritty devs. The “let’s knock down gardens and houses and build sterile units with courtyards and european appliances and succulents to suck the life out of your outdoors existence” types. No dynamic lifter stench to make you gasp and appreciate fresh air – just an automatic coffee machine and a fridge that orders food for you and a door mat that says “Your welcome mat”. And that is not a typo I know the difference between you’re and your.

Did I have a scowl on my face when he rattled off the proposal? He had one on his when I used the word “life” and “family” and “home” in the one sentence. Whatever the interaction between myself and the developer I think the house was attuned to this. While I watched him leave, I noticed the stairs had magically grown out of shape into a scowl big enough for him to trip on.

The Beautiful People

Oh they are everywhere! Look at them getting fit for summer as if they have to get fit – with the drive, the passion and the designer gear to make designer sweat in. Look at those other ones pushing their babies around in perfect strollers on which nothing is broken or marked. Look at their comfortable walks and their perfect gurgling offspring complete with curls.

Look at that fashionable suit or shirt or skirt with those teeny tiny shoes all soft leather and quiet. Nothing rustles like dead leaves when these people walk. No inner things are being talc’d in fear of another wet march through the stinky heat of summer up a hill, dragging shopping, eating an icecream melting over a fat hand. Oh no not these beautiful people with everything under control, under the bright blue sky of I know I look good.

Under the surface however – what swims there?


Spring is here and with it a nasty little family of wasps who are busy building their spitandleaf abode on my office window. I’m not about to go crazy with the bug spray, after all isn’t that what Australian life is all about? bugs and more bugs and poisonous bugs. I once read this story about the heat of the Amazon and the throat snaking choke of it all. About all the sweat and fear and oppressiveness of a river journey mid afternoon, mixed with the wonder of being some place so exotic. I think of that story when I watch Mr&Mrs WaspFeatures setting up home. They are quite exotic deadly little things and I marvel at their dainty little shoes and the paper walls they are building and I sigh and I marvel more and sigh again and think.. yes I am going to kill you both.


I’ve decided to move this blog to wordpress – cos blogger made me sad.

In fact I think I’m going to move a lot of my content around. There is much online for kristydarby that should probably move to kristynapier so expect some change over the next few months.

I got very excited by Seesmic today. Yes I know it is old news but I stumbled on a conversation that Paulo Coelho started about whether society was actually getting to the point of following their dreams or whether it is still stuck on trying to please everyone. Whether the topic of discussion interests you or not I think the idea of a writer actively engaging their audience like this over video is so cool and so strangely natural. It makes me feel all close and connected and cuddly. *sigh*


The dummy.
Do you remember when I popped one in Kat’s mouth when she was just a month or two old so I could finish some bit of webwork in quiet? Do you remember how guilty I felt for that moment or two and how I yanked it out and strode forward into work mayhem amidst her crying? What strength, what resolve what a whopping great payout – because she is a champion sleeper and needs no comforter, soother, dummy, sleeptoy. She is perfect in that regard.

Then along comes Aidan – and I am done with pretense and pretending my nerves aren’t shot to hell. His constant feeding, and constant crying – here have a dummy and what a dummy I was. Now as I sit here 18 months later I am in dummy hell. Same situation, so much work to do but a boy that won’t sleep without a dummy and no dummy can be found. Dummy dummy dummy. And he screams on and I think maybe this will break him of the habit.

Thank God – the God – for Kat – who is sleeping through her brother screaming his lungs out. I just need a doctor specialising in nerve repairs.