21 August 2013

Nicholas Nephew

Perfectionism definitely has its drawbacks.

I am something of a "joke" in my extended-family when it comes to giving presents.  They have been known to come in a bit late (just a tad).  My record, she says all puffed up like a proud peacock, is over two years late!  But that can't be!  What about the birthdays in between?  Yes, they rolled past with much celebrating and gift-giving, but the present ungiven was still being constructed.  You know who you are, unfortunate recipient.
Shoddy replica of the original.
Camera was still travelling home from Milan.
Sometimes, I want things to be so perfect before I go ahead, that the project gets put on a backburner that is not even in my house and subsequently gets forgotten about altogether.
Nicholas turned 18 last October.  At least I can pat myself on the back that his present was given to him before his 19th has arrived.  Small consolation really.  As turning 18 is something of a rite of passage here in Australia, we gave him a showbag of paraphernalia that represents this austere age:
  • a toy car (because he is old enough to drive now);
  • a few "scratchies" because he can gamble (and apparently we're not responsible for his moral fibre);
  • some alcohol (legal age for drinking down under);
  • shaving cream (when you turn 18, hair automatically begins sprouting on your face);
  • a pencil (to mark off the voting form); and
  • some chocolate (at 18 you can eat as much as you like, without regard for set mealtimes - so I'm told).
Happy Belated Birthday Nick.

18 August 2013

My Home

I look upon my home with a combined contradiction of affection and antipathy.

Without exaggeration, the place manufactures its very own dust.  I can dust a table in the main living area and within an hour, I kid you not, the surface is covered with a light sprinkling of dust.  Leave this for a couple of days and visitors would be forgiven for thinking that they had stumbled onto the set of Great Expectations - enter Miss Havisham.
I am charming but sometimes I drive Mrs Papier crazy.
It's all very well to like the Shabby Chic effect that is seen in magazines and online until you are forced to live it.  I for one am a great fan of this style, ahem, check out my Pinterest Boards.  However, when actually living the Shabby Chic dream it somehow morphs into something more like Grubby Grot.  Speaking from experience.

There, I just had to get that off my chest.  Thanks for listening.

11 August 2013

A Jar of Feeling Good

If the contents of this jar I could really bottle and use, I would.

 As a balm to heal all that grieves you.




To soothe away the pain.


 To make things right, just like they used to be.
To sit with you at night when things seem at their worst.

To be able to tell you that this will all soon be over.

To be able to help you right when you need it most.

 Get well soon.