I am sadly admitting that I have been having a few self made spec saver adds lately. A total of 3 occasions to date and in a short span of time,  where I should have had my glasses on, but the last new one will show it beats them all and it is an expensive doozy. I will however torture you day by day until you get to my doozy. First up a spec saver add here in kiwi land is an advertisement on TV where you generally see something, but once you put your glasses on (your spectacles) you suddenly see that you had your vision all wrong. And then there comes the “should have gone to spec savers” promo. So my first embarrassing self made one was recently when I decided to shake a few rooms around at home. Having had the majority of sons leave home I can rearrange the spare rooms at a whim. Something I don’t do too often but when I feel like it, I can. This particular and obviously boring day in my life I decided to dedicate one room for grandchildren to play in.  The theory was all mess in one room and also one can quickly shut the door fast when someone visits which is a good motive. So in order to get my vision where it could become a reality I had to move 3 rooms around. Not an easy task for a lone female. Men no longer offer to help with these whims so I have learnt best to do all by myself and usually do not even tell them I am going to do it. It might have something to do with the fact that there is a slight chance I may do it all wrong or damage something in the process and need to hide it or simply reverse the change because it wasn’t what I thought it would look like at the end of the hard slog. No one likes to admit they are wrong so why advertise a possible stuff up. So lucky for me this end of the house has a tiled floor hallway and a rug under objects huffing and puffing along can end up being quite swift and easy-ish. It only took me several hours but there were several breaks in that time and no, not the object kind either. I simple am not as fit as I used to be and my lovely bulging muscles in my arms no longer look that way and are a sad excuse of years gone down hill. No one needs a pair of glasses to see what no longer exists but at the end of the day I managed it all with the shrivelled pair I had hiding under my sleeves. Finally after all those hours, I had the finer details done of beds made, cupboards cleaned, shelves organised and all the toys in their new child friendly quarters. Pleasantly enough, no one had come home early and caught me out bending over in a compromising position trying to push and shove large items and no one has criticized my thought process and how those weird ideas have come out of the inside to be a reality. No one will know how I wasted this day and how red my face got until they have to go into the room for something that is no longer where they last left it.  I survey my accomplishment and think yes, I did good today.  With  the final job of vacuum cleaning done and my edible monster put away I make one last check of each room.  A little bit of air freshener would not go amiss so I go to the bathroom where it should have been.  We have not long evacuated a kitten to the outside at night from being  safely in this bathroom.  It knows now where to do its smelly business and hopefully over by the neighbours that I do love dearly.  So I knew where I had last used and left the air freshener.   Shaking it madly I walk down to start in the end room.   A good spray over the bed, high up by the lights and all over above the carpet should do the trick..  It was not until the sprayed landed on the carpet  that I thought I could see a blue tinge and a hint that something might  possibly be wrong.   Holding the can quickly to my face made no difference as I did not have my reading glasses! on so off I trotted to find them.  To my horror it read Shaving foam……

I have been sewing. I offered to help make some of the items for the grand children’s school production for end of year. It sees me making Lion ears to be attached to head bands for one class and monkey ears attached similar and tails made for the other class. I had the perfect material stashed away in my mass saved up over the years box. I nutted out a few templates that satisfied the very grateful teachers and set about to make the required amount. Now I am wondering what have I done! My sewing room has fluff from one end to the other. Just cutting out the ears was just enough fluff on the loose rampage but when I decided to add 9 mane’s to make the wee male lions feel masculine, things stepped up a fluffy notch. I thought the easiest way to make these manes was to just cut a square, sew elastic onto it them and then  semi cut it into 15 strips up to the elastic.  It looked perfect but then it required a good shake to sort the loose bits off where I had cut. Now suddenly the whole place has turned into a golden brown looking safari like snow. It’s in my mouth causing me to spit snow balls. It’s up my nose tickling away forcing snort hairy sneezes. My eye lashes are coated with extensions of a golden kind and when I dare to look in the mirror I see it is also in my hair and on my every part of my clothing.  Suddenly I realise I had just shaken fluffless the first one. No choice but to suck it up and keep going I guess . Oops, I think I just did suck it up physically and definitely enough to pass a fur ball within the next 24 hour…

Hubby sends me to get some oil and an air filter for my car so he can do the honours and change them both. He tells me strictly to get  a 20/40 oil so when the assistant gets the container saying 10/40 I start to panic that it is wrong. “I asked for 20/40 but you are trying to sell me 10/40,” to which he states they only have 10/40 or 15/40.  Numbers on any level give me a headache and also an instant urge to go buy chocolate to console the pending severity of that headache so I try to  understand in order for that headache to not be so severe.  “What is the 40 for anyway?” I ask pretending to care to which he explains that it is the thickness of the oil when heated in the vehicle.  I ring hubby to double check that 10/40 is okay and get his assurance. He does not understand that I am trying to relay what I have been told as its coming via female language so I ask the assistant while hubby is deciphering, so what is the 10 in front of the 40 for?  He explains,  “It’s the pre state ie cold.”   HERE COMES MY LIGHTBULB MOMENT which accidently comes out of my head and into the verbal open   “Ohhh” I go, That’s kind of like me. 10 being before I eat dinner and the 40 being after dinner.” It took the assistant 5 minutes to walk back to the counter as he was laughing and snorting so bad and I could hear my husband doing the same in unison on the phone….

One of my Facebook friends posted this personal opinion a good week before we lost another Rugby legend in Jonah Lomu. I agree with everything he has said and believe it is not just for Kiwi kids… (I have permission to share)… “””In all seriousness, I hope all parents and kids alike take time to reflect on the achievements of some of our true legends today. It doesn’t matter whether you want to be a rugby player, netball player, doctor or carpenter, the example set by Mr McCaw, Conrad Smith, Keven Mealamu etc. is one that we can all live by. These guys were never blessed with the x-factor or amazing natural talent of so many of our athletes today. These guys got to the top of the world by hard graft and immense work ethic. It doesn’t matter what avenue in life you want to follow, theirs is an example to use as inspiration. Richie McCaw is not the strongest, nor the fastest athlete, he cant jump higher nor bench heavier than other players. in fact, there is probably no category you can find where he outshines his team-mates. but this guy turns up to training earlier, and leaves later and takes every opportunity to improve himself that is humanly possible. Every kiwi kid has the opportunity to achieve more than what is expected of them. The great Arthur Lydiard once said that he could take any street in NZ and find an Olympic champion, they just had to have the work ethic. This is so true. NZ is the greatest country on Earth, we just need to give our young ones the inspiration and tools to reach those goals. As parents, we hold the strings to allowing our kids to reach their full potential. Material possessions, flash cars, nice houses etc. are not what shows our status in life. What is a true measurement is our ability to inspire our youth to achieve beyond what is expected, to push the boundaries, whether physical or cultural, artistic or intellectual. NZ is a great country, limited only by the willingness of it’s citizens to embrace greatness. Forget about the limitations set by what has gone before you, set your own goals, and strive to achieve ! Kia Kaha”””

My exciting thrill today was grocery shopping. How I hate this chore but not as much as I hate cooking the stuff I choose to buy. It’s just a task I put in the basket of if you don’t buy food you don’t eat and therefore you die so I best get the chore over  with. The shopping today was tinged with sadness. When you shop for so many years you get into a routine and just go with the pre shelved flow, unless of course it’s the one week of the year that the supermarket snuck in over night and rearranged the shelving without your permission. Today I let the natural instincts guide me, but I fall short at the start of isle two. I grab the dog roll I have sussed out to be the most economical over the years and instinctively go to put it in the trundler. With tears trying to escape from behind my glasses I know I no longer need that roll. Mac our labrador has gone to doggy heaven. He was old. Mac woke up 5 days ago and decided today I will not eat anything and curl up under the flax bush and die. That simple and that quick. Now being a lab he was a cross between a true gentleman and a dog guts and ate anything that resembled or looked like food. I think he was a pig in disguise if ever there was one. So for him to not eat breakfast was such a shock. I still did not realise the seriousness of the situation but in hind site I could not have done anything about it. I tempted him with warm milk and he looked at me and just returned his head to pillow position. I forced him out from under the bush and gave him a sun drenched tummy rub and lots of talking to but as soon as I stopped he walked back to his choice of bed rest. I checked him every half hour and he seemed fine apart from not eating and I even  warned him he was off to the vets in the afternoon if he didn’t improve and I would make sure they used a thermometer.  He just looked at me.  I gave him what I now know was his final rub at 2:50pm and headed off to pick up the grandchildren from school. Once home I warned No. 1 that her beloved Mac was not feeling well and Nana thought he might be dying. “Where is he,” she cried and ran to the flax bush. She came back too quickly and declared matter of fact, “He’s dead.” I said no honey he is not well. “He’s dead Nana. His tongue is hanging out.” I raced to the bush that I left only 15 minutes earlier and there he lay dead. Just like that. Mac ripped our little hearts out and took pieces of them up to heaven. The girls drew pictures and we buried him that night close to a pond where he spent his time being an awesome gun dog. That’s it. End of story. End of Mac. Still comprehending. So the doll roll is no longer required and the remaining part of one in the fridge is slowly crusting around the edges. I am missing him in small ways that I did not realise were embedded in our everyday life. His bark 10 minutes after anyone has arrived. His scratching noise while he waits to be let out each morning. Rattling the car keys and watching his excitement knowing a car ride is on the agenda.  I miss watching granddaughter put a lead on him and walk him around the property every time they stay. Mac you had such an awesome personality and it was a pleasure picking up your dog poo every day. There will probably be another dog in the future but never another like you and no one will replace you in our hearts. I won’t tell anyone where you hid your bones. Oh that’s right you’re a lab, you never hid any food it just went straight down. RIP Mac ps..I take it back I DID NOT like picking up your poos. It was a chore. Way above the shopping level chore.

I have a friend. I know she has my back. She has all sides of me on the evenly hefty square shape scale. She can promise me that when I fall she will be the first to laugh at my enormous butt hitting the ground. When I jumble my words and make no sense, she will laugh till she snorts foreign things from her nose that I cannot identify. If I have accidently hitched up my dress in my granny pants she will help only by telling everyone to look and heaven forbid should a bogey escapes from nostril prison. She wouldnt say boo and it would be left to crust and only be seen with a self mortified look in the mirror and after a full days outing. If I have food on my teeth she will tell me how beautiful I am and to smile at everyone and make their day. If I complain about my hubby or anyone, (as besties always do) she will tell me to suck it up and give me a boot in that below the waist reverse area. She sounds more like an enemy doesnt she, but she must stay my best friend because she knows far too much about me. We are starting to fantisize about rocking in our rockers when we get old and with our forgetful minds we can be new besties everyday. We are chalk and cheese but I will admit Im not sure who is the chalk and who is the cheese. Whichever is the badder, is definately her. We dont get jealous when each other goes out with “other “ friends. We don’t get jealous at each others successes should we be lucky enough as those are usually few and far between. We have travelled seperate roads with seperate loves and heartaches in life that has taken us to living at diferent ends of the country but it is still no barrier. What is a friend to me? Being active with that friend whether related by blood or by heart. My beauitful neice who has the kindest heart on earth posted a saying on FB…. “People make time for those that they want to make time for. Never believe anyone who says they are too busy because if they wanted to be around you.. they would”. That’s when I realised that my friend who I met at 8 years old and who is still my friend all these years later is because we have been “ACTIVE”. Active in each others lives. Thank you facebook for the last 10 years because now she can pester me actively on a daily basis if not hourly but we make time for each other because I love her to pieces warts and all and she loves me and my wobbly bits plus endless banter. Thanks matey. This is for you “Nuggets” Yea I know, a real cruddy nickname I gave you at school but what about the one you gave me “Jocky Juniours” really!!! I’ve had to wear that nickname for 47 years now! Are they not undies……