August 2016Life Love and Hiccups: August 2016
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Wednesday, 31 August 2016

What Happens When You Come Face To Face With The Wolf?... Yes THAT WOLF!

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I came face to face with the wolf the other day... yes THAT wolf.

And how that meeting went down wasn't exactly the way I had it all planned out in my head.

You see, I often play out scenarios in my head.

We all do don't we?

I'm talking about those conversations we have with ourselves where we role play what we would love to say if we came face to face with a nemesis or someone who had done something wrong by us, or if we had a chance to replay an argument or an incident over and this time we were prepared.

So I was out and about with the family when I first spotted the wolf.

Ironically she was hanging out with a couple of real life goats... no seriously I am not making this shit up.

I saw her as I was walking towards her and then I quickly turned back to my husband who was dawdling behind. "It's her" I declared all wide eyed like I had just seen a ghost.

"It's who?" my husband asked, his body language suggesting he was ready to hear that my grandmother had risen from her grave.

"The wolf, the wolf, the one I told you about who was saying really awful things about me whilst being all nice to my face."

Ok... halt there. That last bit about how I called her a wolf, that was a lie.

I may or may not have bestowed her with the name of another animal... one that chews grass and has udders and wanders around a paddock with flies buzzing around her bum.

Ahem

Moving on.

So with the hubby eager to see who had upset me so much and me eager to show him, we put on our sunnies (because you are always SO MUCH more confident with sunnies on right?) and we headed in the direction of where the wolf was last seen... except she wasn't there anymore.

She had gone.

"What would you of said to her anyway" my hubby asked me? "Would you of actually said anything?"

"Oh hell yes I would have said something, I mean I have had it all planned out in my head for ages" I said as I patted the goat. "She would not have gone to sleep tonight not knowing what I think of her and her two faced behaviour" I snarled.

Alas the moment had passed and it was a missed opportunity to have my peace... or at least that's what I thought, and so I went and sulked in the chicken pen.


Don't worry, that's not where the story ends.

A little bit later as I cuddled the chooks, I spotted the wolf again wandering around with her own kids, and then again as I inspected some tomato plants with my boys.

It wasn't until we arguing over exactly HOW MANY jalopeno plants one family needs, that I stood up and whoahhhh, shit.... I came face to face with her.

There she was.

The wolf in the sheep's clothing.

The one who had been trash talking me to others whilst being all lovely to my face.

The one who even though I would love to name and shame... I won't because I'm not prepared to stoop that low.

The one who was silly enough to think that the people she said those awful things about me to would never repeat them to me.

The one who despite bagging me still had the nerve to contact me to ask for my help a week or two after I heard about what she had been saying... yep I hadn't told you guys that bit, I was actually saving it for another time and relishing the irony to myself for a while.

There she was right there, and there I was, right there too...

And so at that moment it all flashed through my head, the many ways this could play out.

A: I could tackle her to the floor and wrestle with her in the compost as we pull each others hair and squabble like a couple of roosters in a cage fight. Satisfying, yes! But it would take forever to get the smell of cow poo compost out of my hair.

B: I could start yelling at her about the injustice of it all whilst simultaneously pelting her with beetroot and cabbage seedlings. Fun, but not exactly a mature example for my kids given I had busted one of them for throwing a snooker ball at the other that very morning.

C: I could look at her in silence and allow my lack of acknowledgment despite us being face to face, to speak a louder message than any cage fight annihilation or stoning by vegetable seedlings could do.

And so I chose C.

I stared at her for a few uncomfortable moments and then I turned on my heel and walked away.

BOOM. Take that.

Alright so it wasn't as satisfying as all the other scenarios I had played out in the shower and in the car, but it set a good example to the kids and yeah yeah yada yada.

When one of the boys asked me "Who was that mum?" I said "No one" and I meant it, that wolf in sheep's clothing is no one to me and that my friends is far more satisfying than anything.

This time I took the high road. The high road gets a bit of a bad rap as being boring and all that, but the truth is - you don't tend to run into many wolves on the high road, and that's a good thing right?

Would you have chosen A, B or C?
Do you role play in the shower and the car or anywhere else?




Monday, 29 August 2016

Martyrs Don't Take Sick Leave

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 Us mums can tend to be a little bit martyrish when we are sick don't you think?

We shove tissues up our nostrils when our noses won't stop running, we pop a couple of Panadol and gargle some hot Lemsip and we slap on some hand sanitiser before we set about dutifully packing those school lunch boxes, finding the missing shoe, the AWOL readers, signing some notes and corralling the herd into the car for school drop off.

When we get back, we then grab our puke bowls, a wet flannie, our laptops and our to do lists and we return to our beds or our couches for a few hours of rest (work semi disguised as rest because we are in bed or on the couch after all) before we have to pull our shit together in time for school pick up.

Except when we don't.

Like today, I literally woke up and felt like I had spent the night riding ten foot waves on a blow up mattress and no matter how still I tried to keep myself, the world would NOT . STOP . SPINNING.

The husband came in to give me my wake up coffee and kiss me goodbye, as per his usual early morning leave for work ritual, and normally I would grunt my goodbye, tell him I love him and call out "be careful" right before I hear the front door slam shut.

Except this morning I didn't.

This morning I was possessed by some kind of sea sick woozy demon and I couldn't help myself - I totally snapped at him when he look at me all concerned like and asked if I was OK.

"Sure, I'm OK... I'm sooooo OK, I'm just puke all over the car as I drive the kids to school kind of OK" I wailed into my pillow.

That is so unlike me.

The crying and feeling sorry for myself bit that is, sadly the early morning cranks is kind of A typical for me.

"Do you want me to call in and say I'm going to be late and take the kids to school for you?" he kindly asked.

I looked up at where he was standing over me like some kind of blessed angel who was sent to earth to save me from the clutches of death, but instead of saying "yes please my heaven sent angel, I would be so grateful if you could do that" I rolled my eyes and huffed and puffed before I made a dramatic show of trying to climb out of bed in a lost attempt to grab at my martyr crown.

But then the wooziness got the better off me and as my guts rumbled in protest I said "screw that, yes please" before closing my eyes and going back to sleep.

Why do we do that?

Why do we have to be all martyrish when we get sick?

Why do we perpetuate the unwritten rule that us mum are not "allowed" to get sick and instead just be sick for a little while, at least until we are almost not sick anymore.

I mean, we tell the kids to hop back into bed when they are unwell, we pat our partners on the arm and assure them that it's OK, we will take care of everything (insert melodramatic sigh here) until they feel better, but then we somehow we have gone and gotten it into our heads that we can't take a little bit of that medicine for ourselves when we are feeling less than human like.

Granted, not everyone has a support crew they can call on when they are sick. There may be no partners around to help them out or family close enough to call on for a hand... but maybe there are things we can do to cut ourselves some slack.

For example, why subject ourselves to the school lunch production when we are feeling like our heads are at risk of exploding? Why indeed when we can just send the kids to school with a DIY lunch bag that includes a loaf of bread, a slab of cheese, a tub of butter and a plastic butter knife... if they can't figure it all out then surely a teacher will take pity on them and give them a hand assembling a sandwich?

Stuff that missing school shoe people! Soccer boots and ballet shoes are just as supportive and practical as sensible leather lace ups.

As for those AWOL readers? Pfft, they'll turn up... eventually, along with all the odd socks and missing library books that disappeared back in 2001.

If all else fails and there is no possible way of us getting them to school, just keep them home, call it a PJ day and send them in with a sick note tomorrow that says "my child was away because his mother was sick and was SO OVER pretending to be a self professed martyr who can hold her shit together when she feels crappier than a pile of dung."

That oughta do it.

That was my back up plan if the husband didn't catch my award winning performance before he walked out the door this morning.

Bless him though... he did.

Do you give yourself sick days or do you soldier on because you feel you have to or there is no alternative?

Got any suggestions I can use to stop the world spinning that don't require me getting up and going to the Drs because I can't move off this couch. I just can't.


Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Just Hanging Around

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We have one of those hanging egg chair on our back deck and the joke in our house is that the chair is my throne.

Well it's a joke to everyone in the house except me because I kind of think the word throne accurately sums it up.

It is my throne and I figure as long as the dangly bits outnumber the non dangly bits in our home by 4 to 1 (if you know what I mean), then I am perfectly entitled to a throne.



There is a bit of a story to this hanging chair of mine.... you see one December about mmm maybe 5 years ago, I wandered into Domayne / Harvey Norman for a Santa photo with the kids.

Whilst we were waiting for our turn the kids were playing a very dangerous game of acting like little ferals in front of Santa - they were running completely amok, jumping on furniture and touching pretty much everything they were not supposed to touch... you know as kids generally do in a place like that.

Just across the way from Santa was a hanging egg chair, sitting there looking all pretty and serene and practically begging me to go and sit in it and pretend like those rampant ferals weren't mine.

And so I did, sit in it that is, and me and that chair - well we connected on a very very deep level, so much so I kinda sorta arranged for it to come home with me under the guise of an early Christmas gift from my hubby to me... only he didn't actually know anything about it.

I arrived home and before I even had a chance to tell him about the early Christmas gift he was about to give to me, he gave me another early Christmas gift, a surprise one in the form of a fancy new DSLR.

Oh the shame.

OK, so right about now, as you can probably imagine, I was suffering from a massive attack of buyer's remorse, only I was lacking in the remorse bit but had all the associated guilt. And so I did what any self respecting wife would do...

I told him I had an early Christmas gift for him too.

A fancy pants hanging egg chair.

Let's cut a looooong story short shall we and skip to the bit where I eventually confessed to buying that chair for myself and the part where he said that he knew tall along who I had bought it for because HELLO, the stink eye I gave him when he sat in that fancy new chair with a beer in his hand was a pretty clear indication that all was not exactly what it seemed.

And so that hanging egg chair, my throne on our back deck is my most favourite place to sit and solve the world's problems, and I am of the opinion every woman needs a throne in her life.

We practically owe it to the world to have one.


Image sources Header: Left / Right 
Row 1: Left / Right | Row 2: LeftRight | Row 3: Left / Right | Row 4: Left / Right 

So what do you think? Do you have one or do you fancy having your very own backyard throne?

Well let me help you out a little then because I have scoured the interwebs and found some beauties available in Australia. 

Oh and for the record... there is only 4 months until Christmas, you know just in case you want to get one of these hanging egg chairs *cough cough* for your own partner.

Have you ever bought yourself a fancy Christmas Gift?
Told any fibs to your partner that bit you on the butt?


SHOPPING GUIDE




Monday, 22 August 2016

I'm About As Confident As A Cow In A Steak House

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The biggest misconception people tend to have about me is that I am a confident gal or that I could be an extrovert.

You could be excused for thinking that I am though, because if you were to meet me out somewhere I am hardly what you call a quiet person. In fact I am usually pretty darn loud and I have a habit of saying lots of inappropriate things at inappropriate times and I even shock myself at times when I say out loud things that I think I am only thinking in my head.

But all that aside, if you have me pegged as an extrovert then far out brussels sprout - I have to tell you - you are about as accurate as my boys are when it comes to aiming straight at the toilet.

I don't think I need to expand on the accuracy of that do I?

Ahem, I didn't think so.

You see the thing is - I am a really good faker... like REALLY good.

I can 100% fake a bit of confidence... in short spurts. Yup. if you need me to be on show for like 15 minutes or so I'll suck it up and do it, but the truth is that inside - I am about as confident as a cow in a steak house.

What you don't see is me sweating bullets in the lead up to seeing you, or me talking to myself in a desperate attempt to convince myself that maybe after faking it for a little while I might actually have enough confidence to stop myself from running away to the closet bathroom to hide until it's all over.

I prefer to call myself an extroverted introvert, it sounds so much better than calling myself a faker, and whilst I have no idea if a psychologist would agree that there is such a thing as an extroverted introvert, I'm going to go with it anyways.

If you asked me to walk into a room and pick a side between the true introverts over there and the bubbly extroverts on the other side of the room, then I am probably going to stand like a complete moron somewhere in the middle of the room because I don't think I truly fit in on either side.

I am pretty sure I am not alone either.

In fact I know quite a few people who for the most part, are the most confident people I know and if you were to send them into a room full of strangers you'd absolutely expect them to be right at home and steal the show... and yet they do the complete opposite and instead quietly linger up the back somewhere trying very hard not to draw any attention to themselves.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with that of course... but are they Introverts or Extroverts?

Or are they Introverted Extroverts?

On the flip side I have other friends who like me - suffer from the worst fart inducing anxiety and you pretty much have to drag them into the room by their ankles... but then when you get them in there - BOOM just like that, they are happy to be the life of the party.

Are they really Introverts or would you call them Extroverted Introverts?

Geez we humans are a confusing bunch aren't we?!

What would you say you are?

Are you a true introvert or extrovert or are you an introverted extrovert or an extroverted introvert?


Friday, 19 August 2016

#BusyNotBeingBusy

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I have this theory that many of us feel like we have to be busy for the sake of being busy, so much so that we have programmed ourselves to be busy even we we have nothing really to keep us busy.

It's also like we have this innate need to tell people how busy we are too, like it somehow validates our self worth or something.

The problem is every time we talk about how busy we are, it perpetuates the guilt we feel if we are not busy and so we get sort of defensive about how busy we really are and sometimes (read often) it even turns into a competition, a battle of the busyness if you will and we are all chasing the title of the busiest of the busy.

You know what I am talking about right?

Have you ever had a conversation with someone you run into that kind of plays out like this...

"Hey, how are you?"

"Good thanks, busy, but good.. how about you?"

"Yeah I'm good too but busy, busier that I've ever been!"

"Oh man me too, work is so soooo busy. I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to call you sorry."

"That's OK, I know what you mean, the kids have been keeping me busy and I've been busy with doing Yada Yada Yada Blah Blah Blah Busy Busy Busy"

Sound familiar?

I think I have had this same conversation at least eleventy three times this past week and don't get me wrong, I am just as guilty of buying into the busy game as any of the busy people I have spoken to.

It's a little bit ridiculous when you think about it, we are all so busy being busy and telling people how busy we are that it is like some kind of badge of honour or something.

When did they start handing out trophies that say CONGRATULATIONS you are the winner of the busiest of the busy award?

Seriously....Bloody hell!

I am ashamed to say that I am have become so competent at being all busy like that I think I am actually incapable of just doing nothing any more and that's not exactly something I am proud of.

Over the years I have even built it up to a point that I feel guilty if I am not busy doing something, and if I happen to find myself with any spare time on my hands (which is rare because I am so busy and all that), instead of enjoying that free time I immediately go looking for something to do... because surely I should be busy doing something right?

I mean, I could be cleaning out the oven, or filing the last year's worth of bills and banks statements or cleaning the grout on the bathroom floor... anything other than just sitting down on the back deck with a cup of coffee and a pile of magazines to read because I am not going to earn my badge of honour if I am not BUSY BEING BUSY.

Pluck a flipping duck!

An even bigger joke is that the business I own was created to encourage other people to take the time to slow down and do something for themselves and yet there I am running around like a silly flapper and not actually practising what I preach.

Screw that... I am done with busy. I am officially uninstalling my self programmed busy mode.

I cannot even stand the sound of the word and I am hereby declare a revolution against busyness.

I want to be the person who shocks the shit out of someone when they ask how I am doing by saying "I'm good thanks. I've been sitting on my ass all afternoon counting blades of grass and eating Cheetos, I couldn't be better."

OK, maybe I could find a better way of not being busy than filling my guts with Cheetos, but I like the idea of saying "screw the oven, screw the bills and screw the God Damn grout and guilt".

If you ever run into me and I tell you how busy I am, you have my full permission to ear flick me OK?!

You can even do it twice.

Rightio then, with all that said, I am just going to sit here in this coffee shop a bit longer, drink my coffee, take photos of random flower arrangements whilst I stare at busy people and feel all virtuous about not being busy.

Let the revolution begin people. Let's get #BusyNotBeingBusy

Do you find yourself always busy being busy, or are you one of the people I admire who has successfully managed to avoid installing the busy program?

Wanna embrace the #BusyNotBeingBusy Revolution with me?


Thursday, 18 August 2016

I'm Invisible - What's Your SuperPower?

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I'm going to go out on a limb here and confess to you guys about a weird dream or dream theme that I frequently have.

In my dreams... sometimes... often enough that maybe I should be a little worried... I find myself in someones home, only I'm not actually supposed to be there and just as I realise this the people whose home I am in arrive home and just when I'm at risk of them seeing me, I turn myself invisible and I run up into the air and I fly out the window.

*Ahem*

It's all good... I'll let you digest that info for a moment.

OK you're done.

Look you are totally forgiven for now thinking that I am an even bigger fruit loop than you may have given me credit for and quite possibly if a psychologist were to analyse my dreams, they too would indeed bless me with a fruit loop title.

I wonder what it means... my dream that is?

Do you think it is perhaps my subconscious trying to give me a message?

Is it telling me I'm nosier than I should be?

Is it telling me I that deep down inside I wish I was invisible, but really I am just delusional?

Am I having flashbacks to a past life where I was some kind of creepy peeping Tom?

Cripes, is it all of the above?

Anyway... the whole point of my confession is that various elements of this reoccurring dream led me to put some thought into superpowers and in particular, if I won like some kind of magical lottery and I could choose one superpower to have, what would I choose?

Let's face it - apart from being a fruit loop, I'm also a bit of a greedy guts and there is NO way I could possibly narrow my choice down to just one superpower and so I am going to choose two... because it's my blog and therefore it's my rules and so with all that said - the first superpower I'm gonna choose is;

INVISIBILITY


Deadset, can you imagine just how fun being able to turn invisible at the click of a finger would be?

We have all wanted to be a fly on the wall at some stage of our life right?

The thing is though, I don't want to actually be a fly because flys kinda suck and they make a really annoying noise... which to be fair - my kids would probably argue that the noises coming out of me are annoying too, but I wanna be me... only you can't actually see it's me cause I'm all stealth like and invisible and shit and therefore I get to go wherever I want and you'll never ever even know that I am there.

I'm also quite possibly the world's biggest sticky beak and so I would love to take a little peek at people just living their life and doing what they do everyday when they don't think anyone is watching.

It's kinda like how I enjoy walking the neighbourhood in the early evening in summer when people's windows and blinds are open and for just a few moments I can get a little glimpse into their life as I walk by.

I'm not the only one who enjoys that am I?

Maybe I might invisibly visit some of the houses that give me house envy, and you know - just hang out invisibly with the family for a while and see what it would be like to live there with them in their fancy house.

Perhaps I'll spy on my kids and see what they really get up to at school, with their friends or when the are at home and we are not there to to be all parental on them.

How cool would it be to invisibly hangs out with some celebs and see what sort of normal stuff they get up to when they are just hanging at home.

The opportunities are limitless.

OK, so since I'm about as greedy as I am nosey, I'm just going to go ahead and grab myself another superpower out of the bucket thanks very much and that second superpower I choose would be;

THE ABILITY TO FLY


Hell YESSSS!

I wanna fly and for no other real reason other than MAN that would be so freaking cool to just fly wherever I want to and holy crap...  can you imagine how it would impress the pants off strangers in the street when I just casually float up into the air in front of them?

Alright dreamers, it's your turn to go ahead and choose...

What would be YOUR Superpower of choice and WHY?
OK... go on then, take two if you like!


Monday, 15 August 2016

The Gaps We Leave When We Are Gone...

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Sadly we said goodbye to my cousin today... he was 49 years too young.

Fucking Cancer!!!

Funerals suck, no matter the age or the way in which one has passed, because saying goodbye to someone for the final time is such a painful thing to do... it's a slap in the face reminder of how precious and fragile life is.

It forces you to question yourself... did I take the time whilst they were alive to learn enough about this person to do their memory justice?

Have we learnt enough about them and their time on this earth, their thoughts, their beliefs, and their stories to be able to completely encapsulate their special place in our family's footprint for future generations to remember them by?

It's a sobering thought and the scary thing is - I fear it is something that many of us leave too late to consider.

Last night we were at my parent's house and we got to talking about family members we have lost.

We talked about my cousin and then we moved on to my beautiful grandmother who passed away nearly 15 years ago.

I so loved that cheeky woman and barely a day goes by that I don't think about her and wish she was still here with us.

I had a very close relationship my Nan especially given that she moved in with us when I was about seven and so I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with her over the years listening to her stories about when she was a child and when my mum was a little girl.

You know, those precious stories that only the person who lived them could possibly tell?

As I listened to my mum speak about our Nan,  I became painfully aware that despite what I thought, I actually only know a fraction of my Nanna's overall story. I can't help but feel sad about that and wish that I had asked more, listened more and taken the time to learn as much as I possibly could about her... whilst she was still with us.

As my mum went on to talk about her uncles and told my boys stories of her father and her grandfather and their time at war, I realised just how big a gap there was in my knowledge of my own mum's life, the life that existed for her and my Dad before my brother and I were born - their childhood stories and special memories etc.

I looked at our boys and the same goes... how much haven't we shared with them yet too?

I don't want to leave behind any gaps when I am gone.

With all that in mind, we as a family have decided to do a series of video interviews with my Mum and Dad and my brother, my husband and myself etc, with the idea being that we ask the questions of each and we tell our stories and share our special memories, in our words and our voices for our children and their children to listen to in years to come.

Some might say that this idea is a little morbid, you know worrying about protecting our memories before we have gone and all that, but I prefer to think of it as taking the time learn about each other and to celebrate who we are whilst the opportunity exists.

I know we can't go through life worrying about the 'what ifs' or the gaps we might behind after we are gone, but perhaps we should be wary of taking for granted the untold stories and memories we have not yet shared or heard from our loved ones.

You just can't recover those once you have said goodbye.

RIP cousin David.

May your story live on forever.

Have you ever done anything like family interviews?
Have you ever lost someone and wish you knew more about them?

*** Header image from Sunsetgirl ***



Thursday, 11 August 2016

The Little Spark That Became A Dream

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Something very exciting took place this past week you guys.

Little Lane Workshops turned one.

Holy Shitballs - ONE YEAR!

I have to admit, it's been one hellava crazy busy year. It's also been an insane juggling act at times and there have been many many sleepless nights and WhatTheHellAmIDoing moments thrown in there for good measure too.

Although Little Lane Workshops started out as a joint project between Tessa and I, these days it's just me, as my lovely friend is leaving very soon for her next exciting adventure in the US.

People who have known me for a long time, especially those who knew me as the corporate gal I was, are often surprised when they find out that one of the ways I earn a living these  days is through my running my own creative business.

I love that they are surprised.

But then no one is more surprised than me.

You see when I was a little girl, my mum owned a Craft Shop - a gorgeous little store only a block from where we lived. The shop was called Very Crafty and it was painted bright yellow and was full to the brim of all sorts of crafty goodness.

Back then, I wasn't all that interested in craft.

Nup, I was more of a rollerskating, Girlfriend magazine reading, smelling pen collecting kind of girl. But I did appreciate what it was my mum had created and I have very fond memories of walking to the shop after school and finding my mum crouched over a tapestry or some macrame with a customer of hers.

There was always such a calm and peaceful ambience in that shop, and it wasn't until years later that I realised it was because people were there taking time for themselves to create something and creating makes people happy.



Fast forward to years later and I found myself watching the movie You've Got Mail for the very first time.

You know the one with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks and that divine little book store with all the fairy lights and the comfy cushions and the happy customers, and the staff that were like family to each other.

Oh man, I fell in love with that movie.

I fell in love with Meg and Tom and New York and most of all - I fell madly in love with that little book store and its fairy lights and the people who all seemed so happy to be in that store.

That movie sparked something in me and for a long time after watching, it I day dreamed about one day owning my own little store with fairy lights.

I had no idea what sort of store it would be or what it would sell, but I wanted to have my very own place where people would visit and feel so happy there that they didn't want to leave.

A little spark was ignited all the way back then, although I was far too preoccupied with having babies and working my career in the corporate world to notice, and what I did not realise at that time was that all of that daydreaming I was doing - well that was my heart and my soul speaking to me.

Eventually the day dreams kind of just ebbed away... as they do because you know, life and all that.

But then one day a psychic came to my home to do a reading for me and some girlfriends of mine and among the many things she spoke about, she told me something that to this day makes me suck in my breath when I remember it...


She told me that I would leave my corporate job because I would reach a point that I would be so utterly miserable in it that I couldn't possibly continue on.

She also told me that I would end up doing something completely different, something that would help other people and make me incredibly happy in the process.

Of course I laughed at her, because as if I was going to walk away from such a well paying job that I had worked so hard for... besides it was all I knew how to do because business was all I had ever done.

But then life has a way of giving you a nudge and pushing you out of your comfort zone. You can choose to try and fight it and continue doing what you've always done, or you can decide to just kind of go with it.

And so go with it is what I did.

Just like the psychic said would happen, I ended up being miserable in my well paying corporate job and after an epic 2am emotional breakdown, I ended up quitting. At that point I had no idea what it was I would end up doing, but for some reason I decided to trust that whatever it was that was meant to be... would end up being.

It turns out that what was meant to be was Little Lane Workshops, my own little magical place complete with fairy lights and people who work there that are like family to me. It's a place that in its own way - helps other people and makes me incredibly happy in the process.

Little Lane Workshops is all about giving our guests an excuse to take some time out from life just for themselves, to be in the moment as they learn something new. We help them to nurture their creativity, discover new joys and connect with other like minded friends in the process.

The workshops gives our family of creatives a place to teach and a platform to share their talent and their skills and something that our creatives and our guests all have in common is that they often tell me how much they love being there and how they hate it when it is time to leave.

I cannot tell you how ridiculously happy that makes me - just like the psychic said it would.

To celebrate our one year birthday, I didn't really do anything too flashy to speak off.

At the end of the day I sat under the fairy lights at the warehouse and I drank a glass of Prosecco and laughed at how right that psychic turned out to be.

I also watched You've Got Mail again the other night and I realised that the little spark I got from watching that movie all those years ago... well that little spark became dream, and that dream turned into something pretty damn special.

It turned into this.

Happy Birthday Little Lane Workshops.



Tuesday, 9 August 2016

To Call Or Not To Call - What Do You Prefer?

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When the hubby and I first moved in together, we lived in an apartment complex down the beach that was a lot like the one from Melrose Place.

Alright so we weren't exactly swapping beds and sleeping with each other's bosses, but we did have a pool in the complex and we had friends that lived in two other apartments as well as friends living across the road and a couple of doors down.

That's kind of like Melrose right?

We were the ultimate neighbourhood party pad and on most nights our couch was occupied by random drop ins. 

For the most part we loved having everyone there and the whole party vibe we had going on... except for the mornings after a big night out, when you would wake up to find hungover people strewn across every spare bed, couch or available floor space.

Apart from moving into a bigger house, not much else changed after we got married... well not as far as our social habits went anyway.

For the first 6 years our house remained a designated hangout amongst our group of friends and you were guaranteed to never feel lonely as you could always count on a couple of extra people hanging around to keep you company.

When our first baby was born, the drop ins stopped.

Just like that... there were crickets instead of door knocks and you could be excused for thinking we stunk or something because no one seemed to want to hang out on our couch anymore.

Granted we were no longer the most fun house to hang out. I mean if you were into cabbage leaves, and breast pumps and midnight feeds rather than jello shots and midnight jam sessions, then we were SO your people, but we no longer carried the party appeal that we used to.

I guess when you haven't had a shower for days and spend your waking hours walking around like a topless zombie because even the lightest cotton shirt is enough to aggravate your poor cracked nipples, you really don't mind so much that no one is arriving unannounced at your door anymore.

I had a few wistful moments over the first few years of being a proper grown up with kids and all.

Those moments generally arrived as I found myself in the kitchen preparing yet another awesome meal of chicken nuggets and mashed veggies and I found myself craving the days of when I would happily throw together a feast fit for kings for our spontaneous guests.

As with most things though - you get over it and these days I am the polar opposite of the eager entertainer I used to be.

Don't get me wrong, I still absolutely love to host dinners and BBQs and nights with the girls, but truth be told - I am no longer all that receptive to the surprise knocks at the door.

In fact if you knock on the door and get no response, try peering through the gap in the curtains and you'll probably see me hiding behind the couch pegging burger rings at the kids in an attempt to keep them quiet for long enough to make you believe that despite the fact my car is parked in the driveway, there's really no one at home.

Damn, I shouldn't have admitted that should I?!

Forget I said that OK - there's really no one home.

I'm not sure what made me change.

I have no idea if it's the fact that I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea of you arriving unannounced and interrupting my Real Housewives Marathon couch session, or the thought of you catching me and my unmopped floors and messed up bedhead in my PJs at 3 in the afternoon that bothers me the most.

Maybe I'm just getting old.

Whatever the reason, I have to admit that I'd prefer it if you called before you popped around or at the very least sent me a text so I had ample enough time to consider whether I could be bothered to do the prerequisite 15 minute manic clean before you arrive... or simply decide that I 'won't be home'.

OMG I really am that old person we speak of.

I am no longer the spontaneous entertainer I used to be... but you know what?

I'm ok with that!

What about you - are you happy for surprise visitors to arrive on your doorstop or would you prefer a phone call first?



Wednesday, 3 August 2016

A Backyard Bachie Session Like NO Other

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Image Source: Edition Hotels
Brought to you by Nuffnang and Epson

If we are Snapchat buddies, you might possibly have seen me trot myself off into the city yesterday for the launch of the new Epson Home Theatre Projectors.

It's also likely you would have seen my pre event nerves and psych up session and then of course the relief I felt when the event was over and I realised that everyone was super nice and I didn't make a complete dick of myself in front of a bunch of people I don't know.

It's a very real fear of mine people... a VERY real fear.

I digress.

Now I'm not one to typically be turned on by all the techy sort of stuff we see online. 

I mean sure, when I see something pretty cool I'm impressed by it for like maybe five minutes or so and I'm all "mmm wow that's pretty epic" but then I get distracted by pretty pictures on Pinterest and the ice melting in my gin and tonic and the moment is over. 

However upon seeing the new home theatre projectors in action yesterday at the Epson do, well they stirred up a little something up and got me thinking about... backyard movies nights and OMG - BACKYARD BACHIE SESSIONS.

Hell yes!!

Image source left | Image source right
OK so I know right at this very moment, most of us living down under are huddled under piles of blankets with our feet warmly ensconced in Uggies... but when that weather warms up BAM, it's sooo on like Donkey Kong.

I've seen a zillion and one images on Pinterest of backyard cinemas and I've always wondered "who the hell has that kind of technology in their home?" 

Well apparently this kind of technology is readily available to all of us via Epson's portable movie projectors. 

I always thought that projectors would reduce the quality of what you are viewing... make it all dark and grainy like. 

WRONG diddly DONG

These things are mind blowingly awesome and the quality of image and the all important colour brightness - is better (in my opinion) than the overpriced HDI TV we spent far too much money on at home.

Just don't tell my husband I said that - OK.

Image source left | Image source right

Alright, if we are going to pull of THE ultimate backyard movie night, we are going to need a few key elements in our bag of tricks.

Fear not, I've done all the thinking for you and put together a list of backyard movie night essentials.

You are SO welcome.



1: Now since it was the new Epson the EH-TW8300 & EH-TW9300W Home Theatre Projectors powered by 3LCD technology I was introduced to yesterday that ignited my itch for a backyard movie night, I thought it twas only right to give it top billing... besides these fandangle new projectors are mighty sweet and all the word is the other projectors out there cannot compete with the colour brightness of these beauties.


2: Lighting is crucial for any outdoor event (even an amateur backyard one), and absolutely crucial if you are going to have your own Bachie style rose ceremony. Whilst bright might be good when it comes to movie projectors, we'll be wanting some more of the ambient type of mood lighting to set the scene. These String Lights from Freedom ought to do the trick.

3: Brace yourselves for it my friends... not everyone is a Bachie fan, so go for the next best thing and load up on a pile of Chick Flicks. I personally am hanging to see this new Mother's Day movie.

4: You don't want mozzies ruining your buzz (pardon the pun) so a few Smith & Co Citronella from Everton scattered around the place should take care of that.

5: It goes without saying, no movie session should be without popcorn by the bucket load.

6: if you are not plonked in a pool of some sort, then you are going to need something comfy to lounge around on. These Outdoor Lounges from Down That Little Lane will totally work in my opinion.

7: You need Drumsticks by the box load... yep say no more.

8: When you are comatose on your comfy couches full of popcorn and ice cream and drunk on romance then these Cosy blankies from Aura Home would be the perfect things to snuggle under.

















8. Ok last but by no means least - can we just pause for a moment to absorb these swinging chairs from Archiproducts.

I mean can you even?! They are like little cocoons suspended from the trees.

I know it's taking it up a notch or three you guys but - oh sweet baby cheeses - can you seriously imagine movie night in those?!

So who's up for movie night?
What would you be watching on your big screen?


Tuesday, 2 August 2016

Would You Rather...?

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image source: Woodyrather?

I have been SUCH a slack blogger of late.

I'm like a kid who goes to the shop, picks out a fancy new diary, takes it home, sits down with one one of those cute little pens all ready to write the million and one things playing dodge ball in her head... sits down and writes;

Dear Diary....

And then notices a chip in her nail polish so goes off to fix that, gets distracted by a bowl of Cheetos and proceeds to forget all about the bit where she was writing in the diary.

Or something like that.

Anyway, there's this game we often play with the kids.

Correction... the kids throw these questions at me whilst I am chauffeuring them around and since I am a helpless captive I have no choice but to strain my brain and answer their hypothetical malarkey.

Secretly, between you and me and the rest of the world... I like to play this game and so I thought it would be fun to throw some of these sorts of questions over to you... just because why the hell not and all that.

OK so here is the deal - I give you two choices and you give me one answer. I'm warning you though, there is no rhyme or reason with these questions or your answers... it's just kind of for... ummm fun?

Don't worry about the minor details of possibility and reason. Just choose an answer and write them in the comments below.

1. Would you rather;
a: Be stranded on a deserted island with no friends or family, or
b: Be a celebrity who is followed by the paparazzi absolutely everywhere and have zero privacy, even when you go to the toilet?

2. Would you rather:
a: Eat only bread and water for the rest of your life or
b: Eat whatever you want except once a week you have to eat bull's balls / testicles... for the rest of your life?

Hey, it's 11pm at night, my brain is tired so no judging me or my befuddled mind alright.

3. Would you rather:
a: live in the biggest fanciest house you can possibly imagine with millions of dollars hidden in your cupboard... but live 500km away from your nearest neighbour or shop or
b: live in your car in the city but everything you want to do, or eat is free?

4: Would you rather:
a: Have dreadlocks or
b: Have your head shaved?

I warned you... no rhyme and no reason

5: Would you rather:
a: Have finger nails so long you can't pick anything up, or
b: have toenails so long you can't walk?

6: Would you rather:
a: Be confined to bed for a whole week with nothing to read and no TV to watch, or
b: Be banned from sleeping for a whole week (nope no napping) but you can do whatever you want?

OK go for it... give me your answers and feel free to throw a hypothetical or two my way too and I will answer in the comments below.

What would you rather? 
You know if you HAD to choose one or the other?