todayiamadaisy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
todayiamadaisy) wrote2012-04-14 08:18 pm
todayiamadaisy) wrote2012-04-14 08:18 pm
Satan, oscillate my metallic sonatas!
Today's heading may be my favourite palindrome of all.
I have hurt my knee. Hmph.
This is delightful: an artist reinterprets children's drawings.
There was a baby in today's paper called Zariyah, sister of Zakary, Alexzander and Kaszidee. Their parents must be bees. (I am fairly sure I noted the birth of young Kaszidee a few years back. I remember the names, at any rate.)
I am quite proud of my mother today. She said to me, 'I got a phone call from a man called Bruce who said he was from a computer shop and that he had been monitoring my computer and needed to check it for errors. I said to him, "Bruce, I think you're telling me porkie pies," and he said no, it was true and my computer wasn't secure, so I said, "Bruce, I don't have a computer, I get my daughter to do all that for me," and he hung up.'
She does have a computer, so she was, in fact, telling Bruce porkie pies too. I told her that was very well done and she agreed, saying, 'If he calls again, I hope you're here, and we can string him along for ages.' Some mothers and daughters go shopping together for fun; we are apparently going to take up wasting phone scammers' time. It's good to have a hobby.
Today's big news (as in actual news, not what passes for news in my sad life) is the retirement of Australian Greens leader, Bob Brown, one of the few Australian politicians I've got any respect for at the moment. Before entering politics, he was a prominent environmental campaigner; he was Australia's first Green parliamentarian and first openly gay politician; and, as a young doctor working in London, was one of the emergency room staff who worked on Jimi Hendrix the night he died. Also, in the 70s, he looked hot while rafting. So that's a life. Anyway, I think he's pretty awesome and wish him luck with his future endeavours.
I have just finished a book called Bring the Monkey by Miles Franklin (1933). It is a light-hearted romp about two Australian girls and their pet monkey in London in the 1930s; they are invited to a weekend at a country house, wherein ensues murder and diamond theft and general hi-jinks. This turned out to be a cut above the usual old novels I have been reading (I'm looking at you, The Blue Wall) because it was written by someone who actually knew what she was doing (Miles Franklin has an Australian literary award named after her).
Two things: I particularly liked the way the girls spoke, and I realised how rare it is to find fictional Australians who sound right. These two sounded like my mother. At one point, one of them, telling the other not to be an idiot, said, 'Don't be such a goat with a cast-iron throat,' which I can imagine my mum saying only too easily.
Also, the murder victim was stabbed and the police said it was done by someone strong. That left as suspects all the men in the house, as well as our two heroines, because, being Australian, they were noted for their vigorous tennis serves. Racial profiling, tsk.
I have hurt my knee. Hmph.
This is delightful: an artist reinterprets children's drawings.
There was a baby in today's paper called Zariyah, sister of Zakary, Alexzander and Kaszidee. Their parents must be bees. (I am fairly sure I noted the birth of young Kaszidee a few years back. I remember the names, at any rate.)
I am quite proud of my mother today. She said to me, 'I got a phone call from a man called Bruce who said he was from a computer shop and that he had been monitoring my computer and needed to check it for errors. I said to him, "Bruce, I think you're telling me porkie pies," and he said no, it was true and my computer wasn't secure, so I said, "Bruce, I don't have a computer, I get my daughter to do all that for me," and he hung up.'
She does have a computer, so she was, in fact, telling Bruce porkie pies too. I told her that was very well done and she agreed, saying, 'If he calls again, I hope you're here, and we can string him along for ages.' Some mothers and daughters go shopping together for fun; we are apparently going to take up wasting phone scammers' time. It's good to have a hobby.
Today's big news (as in actual news, not what passes for news in my sad life) is the retirement of Australian Greens leader, Bob Brown, one of the few Australian politicians I've got any respect for at the moment. Before entering politics, he was a prominent environmental campaigner; he was Australia's first Green parliamentarian and first openly gay politician; and, as a young doctor working in London, was one of the emergency room staff who worked on Jimi Hendrix the night he died. Also, in the 70s, he looked hot while rafting. So that's a life. Anyway, I think he's pretty awesome and wish him luck with his future endeavours.
I have just finished a book called Bring the Monkey by Miles Franklin (1933). It is a light-hearted romp about two Australian girls and their pet monkey in London in the 1930s; they are invited to a weekend at a country house, wherein ensues murder and diamond theft and general hi-jinks. This turned out to be a cut above the usual old novels I have been reading (I'm looking at you, The Blue Wall) because it was written by someone who actually knew what she was doing (Miles Franklin has an Australian literary award named after her).
Two things: I particularly liked the way the girls spoke, and I realised how rare it is to find fictional Australians who sound right. These two sounded like my mother. At one point, one of them, telling the other not to be an idiot, said, 'Don't be such a goat with a cast-iron throat,' which I can imagine my mum saying only too easily.
Also, the murder victim was stabbed and the police said it was done by someone strong. That left as suspects all the men in the house, as well as our two heroines, because, being Australian, they were noted for their vigorous tennis serves. Racial profiling, tsk.