odds
wet liberality
vicarious butchitude
fratboy yuks
culture i don't have time to digest
the mothership
newzuld
Klezmer Rebs
sods
tallpoppy
blog from a broad
eat your words
from the morgue
spleen
diaspora
turquoise
additiverich
utterly otterly
maire
the little professor
tallpoppy pics
flickr pics
about
previously, in h-blog
Archives
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
*logorrhoea n pathologically excessive and often incoherent talkativeness or wordiness, prolixity [Gr logos word + roia flow, stream]
blogorrhoea n online manifestation of the above
what does marcellus wallace look like?
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Last night, and not before time, we got heavy. Remind me never, ever, ever again to buy or sell property in this bloody country. Ever. Again. It's a mystery to me how anyone can be a property developer over here without starving to death. No wonder they lost the fucking Empire.
gotta do like shakespeare said
Friday, September 23, 2005
Don't ask how the sale of the house is going. I have not the words, so I will simply turn to those of a great man*: 'Destroy all lawyers.'
In lieu of a pointless rant, and because listmaking is a wonderful displacement activity, here's what I've read (and not read) so far this year. To be honest I'm amazed it runs into double figures.
Annual Jane Smilie Award for Unreadability
*In this instance, Mojo Nixon
the usborne book of how to be a toddler
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Yesterday Jack called me into the kitchen to witness our daughter methodically sorting through a basket of laundry, placing each item into our washing machine: first socks, then underwear, and finally t-shirts and trousers. We stood back marvelling at this prodigious display and wondering if it might have other useful applications. Later that evening, while her bath was running, she put a sock down the toilet. Now if you think about it (having carefully washed your hands first) a toilet is a large white water-filled object with a lid, which makes a whoosh sound when you press a button on the top, while a washing machine is ... I think you see my point. We're off to Geneva to see Charlotte and Ben. Back next week.
yeah. wot she said.
Friday, September 09, 2005
'They also raise the specter of the bogeyman child murderer. I've got an answer for that one: the person statistically most likely to kill my children is me. Time they spend walking home is time they spend away from the person most likely to murder them, as well as time spent out of a car (their most likely place to die.)' A mother defends her decision to train her six-year-old son to *gasp* walk to school.
Oh yes, this new domain name sure is a hard handle to live up to. Have been busy a) implementing a baby clothes scheme in our local SureStart area (first sesh yesterday entirely swap-rage free: score!) and b) working on a writing project - a piece on tsunami relief for a woman's magazine. And c) rehearsing for a couple of Chickens gigs, next one this Sunday. Because you see being a fulltime Bug-wrangler and organising a lock stock and barrel move to New Zealand just aren't enough for me. Must--justify--existence--by--taking--on--more--projects!