Creation Museum

Yes, the Americans have finally managed it - a Creation Museum has just opened in Kentucky.

The $33million (Australian) museum features diaoramas of the dinosaurs that went on Noah's Ark, because dinosaurs always bring in the crowds. Although these ones were (apparently) in existence 6,000yrs ago. They are also host to a Planetarium which espouses the message that the universe is also 6,000yrs old.

"Because the wizardry of modern science actually works, the Creation Museum was designed to suggest that science demonstrates the viability of a literal interpretation of Genesis. In order to argue that science justifies a six-day creation of the Earth, a 6000 year old universe, and a world where dinosaurs and humans happily roamed together, the Creation Museum has to misrepresent the process and results of science, and lies about the scientific record. And it does this not just once, but via every single dazzling animatronic display and explanation that goes along with it...

Religious tolerance is important in modern society. But there should be little tolerance for religiously motivated fraud. Media, and government officials alike need to be clear that this project as misguided, as they would more easily do if the fraud was not religiously motivated. Parents should be ready to bring lawsuits for any school system that uses public funds to bring students to this museum of misinformation." (source)

Very, very, very worrying. And saddening. To think that people can visit this museum and think it is a credible source.

RIP very little brown mousies 3,4,5&6...

Ummm, how many mice constitutes a plague?

Husband tells me that when he lived on the farm you knew it was a plague because when you looked outside all you could see were little eyes and fur. For this reason he doesn't really like antichinus, having lived through several plagues of them.

Over the last 24hours my brave little dog Beans has caught four baby mice! Finally getting some return on that little bastard (who I love, but he really is a little bastard).

Pretty sure mousies 1&2 were the parents and now the babies have been forced out to forage.

I've begun anthropomorphising them a bit, which makes me feel sorry for them, which is bad, and stupid, and not at all scientific. I stopped feeling too sorry when I realised they had shat everywhere in MY BOUDOIR! Yes, the mousies have been living in my boudoir, in amongst our videos (which since the arrival of the DVD player have not seen much light).

So we spent the day (with Beans as our back up) pulling apart the room and cleaning it. Although it was gross to see where they had gotten into, I did come across lots of fun things I had forgotten about, or not seen in a long time, or had shoved randomly in boxes when we moved here.

Part of the problem of having no built in storage when you are used to having lots, is that stuff tends to pile up and accumulate as there is nowhere else for it to go. And this provides a nice little home for mousies. Ew and urgh.

Well, all my mouse-seeing-and-squealing is hopefully over now, so I can look forward to a more restful time next weekend.

Mal Brough - Friday Fuckwit

Forty years ago Australia had a referendum about recognising the Indigenous peoples of Australia as citizens - no longer 'fauna'. And then came the Indigenous Affairs Minister Mal Brough.

Have to agree with Jay and the Doctor from Triple J this morning when they nominated Mal Brough for the Friday Fuckwit.

Yes, lets force indigenous children to learn English. A little bit about it here, but I'm hoping Sherdie or possibly Mangoman will post something a bit rant-like along the lines of ' Mal Brough is an Arse version #503'.

RIP little brown mousey #2

Dammit! He had a friend!

We had been lulled into a false sense of security. Husband left the lettuce out draining in a colander overnight and now it is covered in mousey choc chips.

I really hope there aren't more of them.

Are you awake yet mum?

What is with time differences? Can't the rest of the world just have business hours to suit me and stay awake during the night so that I can call them on the spur of the moment without doing tricky time-maths stuff? Gah!

Birthday Boy

On the weekend we celebrated husband's birthday. His best mate Glen was down for the week leading up to it, so the three of us went out for very special drinkies on Friday night.

For our first wedding anniversary last year we went to Cafe La at the Sofitel Hotel in the city. We had such beautiful food but were too full afterwards to go to the gorgeous looking Atrium Bar on the same floor (the 35th).

So for hubby's b'day I decided a nice surprise would be for us to dress up and have a gorgeous evening drinking lots of delicious cocktails and having antipasto at the Atrium.

We started the night with a French champagne sampler - a small glass of each Moet (hubby's fave), Mumm and Veuve Cliquot. All for only $15! Considering a full glass is $35, I thought it was quite the bargain. French champagne is so yummy!

I then drank lots and lots and lots (and possibly lots) of champagne cocktails. To quote Regina - champagne cocktails, "you are my sweetest downfall".

It also gave me an excuse to buy a pair of shiny (and spanky) black heels. Lovely!

RIP little brown mousie

The long standing battle between us and the mouse is over!

I've been trying to get my dogs to catch the mouse, or at least sniff out its hidey hole (they were bred as ratters after all), to no avail.

We got a spunky looking mouse trap which was brilliantly safe for dogs (they can't access the actual trap part) but the dog got to it and broke it a bit so it didn't work.

At the markets on the weekend we purchased some good old fashion mouse squishers, which husband filed down to make extra sensitive and then coated in peanut butter.

Last night I heard a loud snap, and sure enough we are a one-less-mouse-house. Hopefully it doesn't have any friends.

I must admit I wasn't brave enough to actually look at it, but then this is one of the reasons I got married! Yay for husbands (aka mouse and spider killing machines)!

I'm a Mac...and I'm a PC

Is it wrong that I just spent a large portion of time watching the Mac vs PC ads? So many I haven't seen! So cute! So funny!

How I plan to make my fortune... or not.

On Monday husband participated in a day of filming for the game show 1 vs 100 (he was down to be one of the 100). They had lots of people to make up the '100' who also make up the audience. He spent most of the day cramped on a too small seat with too little leg room and clapped so much throughout the day that his hands were still red when we got to dinner.

My grand plan to make lots of money was going to be pimping out husband to various game shows. He knows a lot of stuff. A. Lot. If he doesn't know the answer to a question I get panicky. In the past we've played Trivial Pursuit - my immediate family on one team, husband on the other. He still won. And we cheated.

His only failing is with pop culture and sport. It was the sporting question that proved to be his downfall on Monday - however he did go home with a shiny Nandos voucher, a less shiny MacDonald's voucher and a pen.

So not the thousands of dollars we were hoping for, but I am looking forward to upsizing next time we go to Nandos!

During one of my crossword obsession periods I thought I may be able to make money entering competitions, but there was always one lousy word I couldn't work out. Damn it!

Why is it that get rich quick schemes just don't work?

Snipers or paranoia?

All day at work I have been noticing small red dots of light hovering around me - sometimes on the wall next to me, on my hands, on my clothes. I was starting to think that I was perhaps being stalked by a small child with a laser pointer, or alternatively, I had finally been tracked down by the small man at the winery who we had over-confidently (read: drunkenly) scared into giving us free stuff, and he was having me assassinated by sniper.

Surprisingly it took me while to remember that I was wearing red mirrored earrings (as one does) and that it was merely a reflection. Is it wrong that my mind jumped to sniper?

Snipers or paranoia?

All day at work I have been noticing small red dots of light hovering around me - sometimes on the wall next to me, on my hands, on my clothes. I was starting to think that I was perhaps being stalked by a small child with a laser pointer, or alternatively, I had finally been tracked down by the small man at the winery who we had over-confidently (read: drunkenly) scared into giving us free stuff, and he was having me assassinated by sniper.

Surprisingly it took me while to remember that I was wearing red mirrored earrings (as one does) and that it was merely a reflection. Is it wrong that my mind jumped to sniper?

Autumn Wedding in Canberra

I arrived home form Perth on Thursday evening, put on some laundry, and then began to pack my bags to depart for Canberra early the next day for brother-in-laws wedding. First stop was taking the dogs to the kennels, and then off to the airport. We managed to score the front row seats on our Virgin flight over, which was nice - all the leg room two tall people could hope for!

My dad met us at the airport - it was nice to see his face wasn't swollen with lymph fluid anymore (surgery was almost nine months ago now). He's basically back to good ol' dad, just with some scars on his neck (which I'm sure will be accompanied by exotic stories for the grandchildren) and a bit skinnier. OK, a lot skinnier, but he's a good deal plumper now than 9 months ago, and he informs me he's put on another kilo since mum went to London for uni a few weeks ago. He admits that this is probably due to not being forced (by cher maman) to walk up Mount Ainslie every week.

It was a much easier transition flying into 'Berra than driving. When we've driven in I get weird panicky freak out moments as we get close to town. It reminds me of the odd, almost embarrassing feeling I get when I return to school or work after having been absent for a long time. Arriving by car you see lots of scenery, which makes me feel really different and out of place - it isn't where I call home anymore, which is odd.

So here we were, back in 'Berra for brother-in-laws wedding. A 'Strictly Black Tie' wedding. mmm, husband in tuxedo... mmm, excuse to wear bright red 21st dress again...

I think we look quite smashing!

Of course we weren't the focus of the day (d'oh!), it was down to Rup and Bek to tie the knot in a big ol' church near Parliament House. My favourite part of going to church (admittedly only part) is getting to sing nice and loudly, so I'm always put out when I go to a wedding or funeral and don't know the hymns. At least hymns are very predictable and you can pick up or predict the tune quickly (I must take after my grandmother, who sings all songs she doesn't know about a half second behind everyone else) - my dad has a theory that there are really only about five hymn tunes, so you can usually get on alright. Which I did. By the end of it you would have sworn I was a Presbyterian born and bred. Well, maybe you wouldn't have sworn, because we were in a church and I'm pretty sure that's not allowed, but you would have been impressed. (^_^)

Bride meets Groom... lemme hear you say "awww"!

Dashing chaps in their tuxes

Dashing young nephew who couldn't attend the ceremony because he was playing football. He managed to sprain his wrist and get a black eye, also scoring a mild case of concussion so doesn't remember the rest of the game.

Reception was at the Boat House (tres posh) and the food was absolutely divine. The rather large centre pieces on the table made conversation difficult, so much chatting happened on the dance floor or outside star gazing (fabulous night to see Jupiter - it was right next to the Moon and under Scorpius). We also had to make video messages, which I wasn't keen on because I can never think of anything to say. A few drinks later and I was doing a rendition of 'Diamonds are a girl's best friend' which was supposed to be advice for Rup for any time he is in trouble and needs to make it up to Bek but I'm not sure if I actually said this on the video. I certainly planned it in my head... Anyway, if nothing else it will (hopefully) give her family a laugh, or make them think - 'who are these weird people whose last name our daughter is adopting?'

Some lovely speeches, a few emotional tears and one very tired cookie-girl later, we were back at mum and dad's trying to sleep in the world's worst bed (second only to the one we sleep in at Potato Point). I was very glad to be back in my own bed on Sunday night.

Self Portraits of the WA Variety

King's Park & UWA

We had a lovely morning tea at King's Park one morning (cakes from Ahbi's Bakery in Freo) and laid around in the sun, and among other things, talked about inappropriate names for babies based on their last names. This then somehow turned into a game of 'make up the worst nickname for each other based on the word fuck'.*



We had a lovely, leisurely stroll through the park, and were followed by some Dutch backpackers for a bit who kept talking about how much you would get charged in Holland to walk around a park like this.




Again, this is one of those places I know I spent a lot of time in as a child. I have vague memories of King's Park, but I think they are mostly based on photographs and home movies rather than actual memories.




The shop held many beautiful and expensive treats, and Lan purchased some lovely earrings of which we were all terribly jealous.



We headed off for home and drove past two of my old residences, in the photo below (King's Park is on the left).

The first place I ever lived was on ressies at the University of WA, where my dad was working when my parentals moved to Perth. We then moved to the suburb of Hollywood, which is conveniently on the right hand side of the road in the photo. My dad tells me that the little street on the the right, just past the white car in front of us on the road, is the street we lived on. I'm pretty sure my memories of the flat and its little garden are of the real variety (as opposed to photo induced).



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*On the following day we christened the hire car 'Fuckarella' or 'Ella' for short.

Sunset over the ocean

Buggrit. I got carried away and have missed out on a couple of things, so now everything is out of order. Although it's only going to be Alby, Sherdie and Lan who will have realised this, so possibly this have been a waste of a sentence. Hmm.

One of the things we did which was really very lovely was watch the sun set over the ocean - something I haven't done in living memory (that is, I'm sure I did it as a toddler when I lived in Perth) having spent most of my beach time on the eastern coast of Australia.

We spent a lovely dusk on the beach at Cottesloe, with Rottnest Island on the horizon.

The last time I was at Cottesloe Beach was when my dad had taken me there to burn off some energy when it was getting close to my brother being born (ah, the golden days when I was an only child!).

So naturally a reversion to childhood was required, and we paddled with our pants rolled up, ran away from waves, had a handstand competition (although Lan is the only one who can still do handstands so she was the outright winner), and laid on the grass until the sun was gone.

Close to sunset the skies suddenly filled with hundreds of lorakeets. They were so loud it was almost deafening.

Lakes Cave

On our last day in the Margaret River region we decided to visit one of the caves - so we trundled south towards Lakes Cave.

My dad tells me we visited there when I was a bub (I was born in Perth), and we have some Super 8 home movies to prove it.

It was chilly as we descended all 336 steps down into the cave.

I do enjoy doing cave tours, although would never go caving. I really don't like small spaces. Thankfully this was a nice open cave. I've never been to a cave with a lake in it before* and it was quite beautiful.

The tour guide was borderline dry wit and pompous (the English accent probably didn't help) as he kept doing things like asking what we though a particular stalagmite looked like, and then when people gave the obvious answer he said "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that..." which I thought was a little wanky. I bet he'd only have fifty bucks anyway.

One of the cave features was named the Dragon, because it apparently resembles one. I was a little doubtful, but was happy to go with the tour guides imagery. When he asked "And what do dragons do?" to introduce the next feature, I said nice and loudly "Sleep on piles of gold and eat people."

Turns out the answer he was hoping for was 'blow fire', but the column he lit up in red didn't really look like fire to me. I liked my answer better.

I thought my legs were going to drop off as we climbed the 336 steps back out. Gah! Too much! I pretended I was on a stepper at the gym, but that only made me hate the stairs more.

Despite there being no pile of gold, or human remains from dragon feasting, it was a lovely cave and was worth the visit!

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* Except when I visited this same one when I was a baby, but I don't think that really counts)

Wineries and Whiners

Whilst in the Margaret River region we visited a cheese factory (bought lots of cheese!), a chocolate factory, an olive grove (mmm, infused olive oils), a brewery and a few wineries.

I bought some premium wines at Amberley for my brother in-law who was getting married the following week. At Swings and Roundabouts (where the people were fabulous) we tried MANY wines (some of them twice, just to be on the safe side) and I bought a bottle of Tempranillo, which was as fun to say as it was to drink.

By this time I was beginning to feel a little tiddly. It always surprises me when I go to wine tastings that one does begin to feel the alcohol, even though you are only getting little samples. When we stopped in at Flying Fish we were all bolstered by the wine and began to be a little more extraverted, insisting that the staff pronounce 'Sangiovese' with a real Italian accent. For some reason he didn't think it was as cool as we did. Although I'm pretty sure he was thrilled to have us there. Totally thrilled. Really. His uncomfortableness spoke volumes.

Evans and Tate proved to be very disappointing (both in terms of staff and the wines), so we went back to Flying Fish, had a whinge and a whine about Evans and Tate being crap to the poor man who was so obviously thrilled to have us back so soon. Totally thrilled. With a case and a couple of bottles of 'The Italian Job' purchased, we were about to head off when we realised we didn't want to share the cute little wine carrying bag they had given us, so went back and asked for three more. The poor man was again completely thrilled to provide us with the service we required. Totally thrilled.

We then went to Juniper, on Sherdie's advice, and we were pleasantly pleased. I exclaimed loudly that they needed music, which apparently was inappropriate, but the man serving us was very good humoured. More whining about Evans and Tate, followed by admitting we had bought a very uncouth blend (he gave the impression he thought it was uncouth, we thought it was yummy) at Flying Fish. Still, it was very nice, his wines were very yummy and I was quite pissed.

We ended the day by scoffing lots of cheese at home, then going out for dinner to Ze Arc de Iris in Margaret River for a delicious meal with some of the yummy wine we had purchased that day.

Car Trip to Gracetown and Margaret River

I really don't like car trips. A childhood full of vomit inducing drives has soured such adventures for me. I often wonder whether it is just psychological when I'm going on highway trips, as it is the windy roads (as in curvy, not blowy) that really get to me. However, every now and then a short trip in the wrong seat can make me feel crapola. If I'm sitting in the front seat, or in the middle in the back, I can see where I'm going and don't seem to suffer so much.

After picking up a hire car and stuffing it full of linen and clothes, we drove from Freo to Gracetown (near Margaret River) with plans to visit many wineries. It rained and was windy (as in blowy, not curvy) most of the way there, but thanks to the front seat and some smooth driving by the gals, I was feeling fine.

We arrived at Gracetown to find we were staying in a marvellous beach house on top of the hill.

This pic is from the house on our last day in Gracetown. There seems to be some meteorological rule that if the weather has been rainy, cloudy and cold during your stay it will always be beautiful on the day you leave.

Drunken Dancing

One of the things I miss a lot being interstate from my bestest girls is drunken dancing in someones living room. Aren't I lucky that Alby has a living room in Perth?

Following our pints at Clancy's, the Goddesses taxied home for champers and booty shakin'.

It brought to mind many instances of drunken dancing. The time we spilt red wine on Alby's parent's cream coloured carpet, Sherdie's Brisvegas themed farewell party squished in her dining room, a random night at my old house in 'Berra where we shimmied until we could shimmy no more, belly dancing at my wedding when I though Fitzy and Alby weren't going to give back my coin belts.

Somehow the night ended with certain people (myself not included) dancing in their underpants.


(Un)fortunately there are no photos of this, although I know J received some interesting sms at that point.

Freo Pubs - the (drunken) tale begins

We seemed (somehow) to miraculously keep consuming much alcohol over the week. Our first pub stop was to Little Creatures Brewery.I'm slightly confused as to where Freo ends and Perth begins, so I'm not entirely clear where Little Creatures is... But the stuff you can see in the background are boats, as we were right on the water.

Confusion aside - we had some lovely pints at Little Creatures and some scrumptious food to boot. I do enjoy a good pub lunch. Particularly one that includes deep fried potatoes.

We followed this visit by a quick trip to the beach to sober up a little, then eat gelato (mine was peanut butter).

Another thing I enjoy is pub dinners. This is what we got at Clancy's (definitely in Freo) where we had a yummy seafood platter thingy. Of course we weren't only there to sample to seafood - we had several (plus one) pints - Wils Pils. We laughed a lot, got caught in the rain, saw an imitation Tim Winton (who was a dance machine) and were told the 'Goddess was strong within us' by a random woman.

We also posed for several ridiculous photos, although I'd best not publish too many for fear of my gals!

This shows variations on the classic 'hide your double chin' pose - Alby and myself are demonstrating the 'stick your chin forward' method, whereas Lan and Sherdie are subscribing to the 'put something under your chin' method.

A good way to use this second version of chin hiding, perhaps a little less obviously than demonstrated by Lan and Sherdie, is the 'stick your chin on the shoulder of the person in front of you'. A great one for Thelma and Louise shots - just don't tell the other person what you are doing, as it doesn't work when you both try to put your chin on each other's shoulders.

As the night wore on, and the beer became more infused with our blood, the poses became more, um, over the top. Here, Alby and I are demonstrating our totally awesome DJ-ing skills. I was probably singing very loudly too, I'm assuming, as this is usually the case for me even when I'm sober.

High Tea

I lurve to drink tea. Elle, you, are, vee, ee. It is often the case that I drink too much tea and am forced to wee every half hour or so (who knew breaking the seal when drinking tea could be just as perilous as when drinking alcohol?) however I managed to show some decorum (unlike here, obviously) and act like a true lady (yes, I'm laughing now too) when we went for High Tea.

Lots of delicious savoury treats, followed by gorgeous sweet things. And of course, much tea to accompany it.

I managed to retain an air of dignity (although this piccie doesn't seem to be reflecting that), right up until I smashed a glass.

Samson the Super Yabbie

Alby's lovely home in Perth contains one very alpha male - Samson the yabbie. Samson was rescued from being beaten up by Brutus, his tank mate, and moved in with Alby. His life with Alby began with only one claw and half his legs.

After shedding recently Samson managed to regrow some of his legs, but was still a one claw man (as you can see in the piccie above). He had also regained some of his confidence, and every time I walked past his tank he would stand up on his hind legs and snip his claw at me to assert his dominance. He is a gorgeous blue colour, which is very a la mode for yabbies (as far as I understand yabbie fashion).

We all fell in love with this little guy who had such a tough beginning in life. You can imagine our delight when we returned from Margaret River to find he had shed again and was now the proud owner of TWO claws!

His left claw still needs to do a little bit of growing, but you have to admire the man!

Perth - pie baking

Tasty, tasty dinner post our zoo visit. Hurrah for puff pastry!

Perth - the beginnings of several stories

Anzac Day saw the beginnings of several adventures.

Several girls convened at Melbourne airport (one from each of Brisbane, Canberra and Melbourne).

Several chai latte's were consumed.

Several hours were spent flying over our big wide continent.

Several hugs were received from a red-headed Perth girl.
Several suitcases were crammed into a small car.

Several girls sat down together and picked up where they left off (that is, mostly gossiping).

Several bottles of wine were consumed (but it was all in accompaniment of a delicious meal, so that was OK).

Several hours were slept.

Several aspirins were taken.

Several nauseous moments were felt (just by me unfortunately).

Several girls squished into said small car and drove to the zoo...

Sherdie, Lan and I spent the morning wandering around the zoo, visiting all the animals, waiting for Alby to finish work. We had a lovely morning and were excited to get to see the otters being fed, spent time watching a very cheeky baby monkey chasing a big daddy monkey, marvelled at the orang-utans who were making themselves tents and climbing very high (you just know they would be strong enough to squash your head with one hand if they so chose), we were even screeched at by some capuchin monkeys who didn't enjoy being gawked at (don't blame them really), and happily entertained ourselves making noises at the mere kats (sp?). We had such a fabulous morning - I absolutely love zoos and am a big sucker when it comes to animals.


We were even excited to see a little numbat (which I hadn't seen in real life before), and then sit on his giant wooden counterpart. Yes, the day was shaping up nicely and the nausea had even appeared to leave me alone.

We met up with Alby and then suddenly the day went from fabulous to double extra super awesome.



If you are excited at the idea of sitting on a giant wooden numbat (I mean, who isn't) you can imagine our excitement when we were lucky enough to be taken on a behind the scenes tour.


First stop was visiting the beautiful cheetah. Not only the biggest cat I've ever patted, but it also had the biggest purr I've ever heard. This cheetah had its motor going and was wanting lots of scratches.


Next was the hyenas. There was a male and a female in the enclosure - the females are the dominant ones (they even have a pseudo penis) so she was the only one to come up for a scratch. Carefully avoiding her mouth, we gave her some neck scratches. They aren't the prettiest of animals, but I was surprised that they didn't feel like steel wool.




Our next adventure was up to the giraffes. Armed with carob tree branches, we went to feed them. Here you can see Sherdie, Lan and myself (me being covered in lovely giraffe spit). Although I knew giraffes are very tall (duh), I've never really though of them as being particularly large animals. Their heads are enormous!!!

Being able to have a chance to give such beautiful animals a pat and feed them some yummy treats (carob is one of their favourites apparently) was so awesome. The giraffe above is the one from that famous pic of a mother giraffe leaning in to kiss her baby on the head. Her son is off having lots of lovely giraffe sex at another zoo now as part of a breeding program (and I'm assuming he's enjoying himself).

Then it was off to be groped by a fifty year old elephant! Actually, she's snuffling at me for more white bread. She was so big and so beautiful! I'm not sure how many more times I can say 'awesome' and 'fabulous' because I imagine you are starting to get the idea...

Our final stop was the rhinos - mum, dad and bub. We were lucky enough to pat all three, and holey moley they are solid bloody animals. Pictured here is the baby rhino, who had just been for a bit of a mud roll.

This will definitely go down in history as one of the most brilliant experiences ever! It was such a nice way to spend a day and I'm so glad I got to share it with some of the loveliest people in the world.

(yay for QKC 2007!)