Very early this morning the text alarm went on my phone.  I checked it and saw it was from the Chemist, telling me they would be closed for Christmas but not to miss their huge 50% discounts on Boxing Day, it ended with a cheery 'Merry Christmas to you and your family'  It got me thinking what if for some people, that text from the Chemist was the only Merry Christmas they would get.  There would I am sure be many.  Those with no family, that offer to do the Christmas shift at work, so that those with families can be with theirs.  Hospitals don't close, airports don't close, trains and buses run and cyclones occasionally interrupt the festivities. My brother and sister in law were in Darwin back in 1974 when Cyclone Tracy went through.  Our Christmas day was very tense as we waited to get word that He and his family were ok.  Not till late on boxing day did we get the call and our family could breathe again.

I remember hearing that in some trenches during the first world war the fighting would stop for Christmas Day then resume straight after.  Unfortunately hardship and suffering doesn't care what day it is, at any given time all around the world their are children mistreated, wives beaten, thousands starving and people freezing with inadequate shelter.

So back to the text, I felt very blessed to be busy in my big kitchen, cooking happily for the bunch that are going to descend on us on Christmas Day, and thankful that I have such an abundance of loved ones to wish me Happy Christmas and certainly will not take it for granted.  In amongst the merriment lets remember to text someone we don't normally include when we are busy, you may make their day, they may just have been sitting at home alone wondering if the Chemist and his family had room for one more at Christmas lunch.

The Mouse Hunt

It's that time of the year, when spurred on by the need of Ms Mouse to have a home, Mr Mouse keen to please the love of his life sets out to find her one.  Sadly, they chose our house, and although we are in a 4 x 2 with just the Moth (Man of the House) and myself residing here, we weren't taking tenants.  They would have been ok if they had flown under the radar, but before they had unpacked their belongings, Ms Mouse decided to come and watch TV with us the other night and sadly that would be the last programme she would see.  I screamed and ran to call our daughter Hayley who having lived by the beach for a couple of years is armed with loads of mouse traps.  These furry little intruders are invading as more and more as land gets cleared to make way for new estates.

If your a catch and release person you may not wish to continue reading.  I gave the Moth a cup of coffee in bed and informed him that our happy home maker had been snapped and that we would have to dispose of it, and that by we I meant him (funny that we assume that men are automatically born able to take care of mice, spiders, fuses and fix leaking taps.  We caught her mate the next night and we hope we are now mouse free.

All this does leave you kind of jumpy though,   I was vacuuming this morning and went to suck up a tail thing that had been poking out of the lounge for two days, it moved under the couch when the vacuum head touched it, I screamed, the Moth came running.  Dashing to rescue his damsel in distress, he lifted the lounge and grandson Beau scooped up the object of my terror - a blue plastic mouse phone with a black tail.  In hind sight I should have known a mouse would not have stayed in the same position for two days.

Eat, Pray, Love

I saw a little bit of Julia Roberts new movie Eat Pray Love a few days ago.  She was enouraging her friend to ignore the carbs and just eat the pizza in front of her.  Julia's character had come to the emancipating conclusion that life is too short to never be able to enjoy pizza without guilt. It made me want to shout Halleluhah! Julia more power to you and break into an adaptation of Martin Luther King Jrs famous speech "I have a dream, I have a dream that a woman is no longer judged by whether she has wrinkle free skin or the size of her dress, but by the character she exhibits.  It is time we stopped being dictated to by what other people think we should be. Our self esteem is bombarded by media images of models, some of who are fourteen or fifteen peering at us from glossy magazines and even their youthful little faces have been airbrushed to oblivion.  Why do we even try to live up to such manipulation. Cindy Crawford was being interviewed by Oprah once and I heard her say, that in real life even she doesn't look like Cindy Crawford. (They used to remove her famous mole from her pictures) 

Most women I know, including me would say they need to lose weight, and with the mountains of diet information available,  diet plans in every magazine, low fat, low carb and my generations grapefruit diet to name but a few, you would think we would all be slim.  I know for myself I could utilize my most powerful weight loss tool, I could use my arms to push myself away from the table a bit sooner.  My food bill would go down, my arms would tone up and I could send the savings off to a world relief organisation.

The last time I checked the world statistic site, it said that in America the year before they had spent $262 billion on diets, and I would think most of the Western World would be on par, and yet as Nations we are all just as fat.  (My husband is convinced that it is the cottage cheese as you mostly see fat people like myself eating it - sorry I probably should be politically correct so would that be size challenged)  Imagine what impact just half of that amount would have on some worthwhile cause like world hunger.

Its a constant dilemma. Should we vote with Julia and stuff ourselves with pizza, or should we go with Katherine Hepburns approach in one of my favorite movies 'Guess Whose Coming To Dinner'  She pulls into a drive thru diner with co-star Spencer Tracy her husband in the movie, it is six o'clock in the evening and they are to have dinner with their daughters in-laws at eight.  The lovely elegant Katherine orders black coffee, and gets annoyed with Spencer for ordering boysenberry icecream, ' you'll spoil your dinner', she chastises him.  On the inside I always imagine that I am a disciplined devotee of Kate and have no trouble just having black coffee and not spoiling my dinner, when it is only six o'clock and dinner isn't  till eight pm.  But the truth is that like pudgy Spencer, I would probably order the icecream and it wouldn't spoil my dinner at all

Pyjamas are the New Black

I love pyjama pants.  They are my favourite piece of attire.  My go to slop round the house choice of garment for winter, spring, summer and fall.  Of course they have to be Peter Alexanders, these give you the added excitement of a near death experience on at least a weekly basis, when you take a stride and your toe catches in their extra wide leg bottoms, you nearly go A over Tush just catching yourself before you go plummeting head first into the fridge or wall (although on occasion I have actually splattered onto the floor).  There is nothing like the adrenalin rush, it keeps you going on those days where there is nothing very eventful happening and gives you the lift you need in between breathing in the petrol fumes at the local garage when you fill up the car. (only joking).

Image from A place of my Own

My daughter posted an old  picture of her sister and herself, from a few Christmases back on Facebook the other day.  They were both in their new Peter Alexanders, which have become kind of a family tradition at Christmas.  It started years back.  There is nothing like pyjamas, we adopted them as our school uniform during our home schooling years, they saved us a lot of time.  We would have breakfast in our pyjamas and carry straight on into school work, non of that annoying showering and changing.  Uninvited visitors who turned up at 2pm would find us still in our pyjamas comfortably relaxed and busy with school work.

Our family think nothing of bringing pyjamas to family dinners, or to their friends so there is something comfortable to slip into when the party moves on to board games and cocoa later.  I mean why not, I am sure if we spread the word, more people will catch the idea, I know Oprah brought out a line of leisure wear that felt like pyjamas but looked a bit dressier for shopping etc., so I know our family is not alone.  The world is obviously over suits and ties.  I know years ago there was a trend among doctors to wear more casual attire, which resulted in specialists coming into hospital rooms to consult with patients clad in Hawaiian shirts.  I guess they may not evoke confidence in their professional ability if they were in their pyjamas, but I am sure pyjamas would be ok for most other situations.

I am almost positive that if you wore pyjamas to the shops, no one would notice.  You could try this during the Christmas rush when everyone is busy and see how you go.  I myself am taking baby steps at converting my friends.  I splashed tea down the leg of my white jeans the other night when we had visitors.  Not a problem I put them in a bucket to soak and came out wearing my pyjama bottoms instead.  It was quite late in the evening and my guests didn't bat an eye.  If they were in fact horrified and just good at hiding it, only time will tell.  If they don't ever come back then I will have to rethink my venture into reeducating the masses on comfortable hostess attire, but if they do I will assume I can take the next step and just be in my pj's when they arrive. Of course, what would really get the drums rolling and the streamers popping, going beyond my wildest dreams and signalling complete victory, would be if I opened the front door to my next dinner guests, and they had turned up in theirs.