Totally Tired of Tupperware!

A friend at school recently decided that she didn't have already enough to do in her life, and that she would go into Tupperware.

What's that got to do with you? I hear you ask. Alas... everything...

Because in order for her to get started, she needed to have a certain number of parties... which meant harrassing all her friends til they agreed to have one! But I don't have a flat big enough to hold a Tupperware party - and she kept pressuring me, and I didn't know what to do or say...

....So I agreed to have it at Mum's. Why? On what planet was that a good idea? I don't even know anyone who would want to go to a Tupperware party!

Or did I? Because for someone who didn't have anyone to invite, somehow I ended up with 20+ people there! And $2000 in sales, so I got a fantastic 'modular mates' set as my party gift.

The only downer is, with some people having made party bookings, I ended up having to go to their parties too - and of course that meant I bought more Tupperware...

I tell you, I am really over it now! No more parties please!

A Pleasant Sunday Afternoon

Growing up in Salvation Army circles, the phrase "Pleasant Sunday Afternoon" used to strike fear and dread into my heart, for a "Pleasant Sunday Afternoon" was anything but "pleasant". A "Pleasant Sunday Afternoon" was sheer, pure torture.

The phrase refers to a Sunday afternoon concert of band, timbrels, songsters (choir) and a bunch of old time songs, usually delivered by a visiting band / songster group, and nearly always lasting an indeterminable, excruciating, "poke my eye out, I'm dying" length of time, and almost always culminating in some form of massed finale massacre, where the relevant group from the home corps (church) combines forces with the relevant visiting group, and subjects the poor, unsuspecting audience to a poorly rehearsed, poorly executed and totally destroyed rendition of some Salvation Army "classic". Sheer and absolute torture, I tell you. Excruciating.

I haven't heard this phrase in a very long time - much to my relief, I can assure you. But last Sunday, whilst visiting Bundaberg corps, on my way home from sailing with the folks, it was mentioned - and the same fear and dread momentarily came over me, until I remembered that I was leaving that morning, and would miss the aforementioned torture.

But now that I've gone on about that, let me tell you, this post is not about that at all. Its about another type of "Pleasant Sunday Afternoon" which I experienced today. A totally lovely visit with my Nan.

See, I had phoned my sister Mel up after church to see if I couldn't wangle a lunch invitation to her place - who wants to go home, cook lunch, and then spend the afternoon maybe doing schoolwork, or grocery shopping etc, when one can go hang out with the fam and maybe score a free feed in the process. But when I got through to Mel, she was in the queue at Red Rooster, and informed me that she and her boys (and Kev too of course) were going to have lunch at Nanny's. I immediately envoked my new motto, carpe diem (I've been rewatching Dead Poet's Society), and 'siezed the day', inviting myself along too.

And how glad I am that I did! It was just lovely, just like a trip down memory lane. You see, when I was growing up, every Sunday we would go to Nanny's for lunch with her and Pop (and Kathy and Neville, when they lived at home), and it was just gorgeous. Nanny makes the best roast dinners I've ever had, complete with "Nanny's potatoes" - potatoes roasted to perfection. And there was always a comedy moment, as after we had sat down and consumed our dinner, and the plates were being washed up, Nanny would discover something left in the microwave which she had forgotten to dish out. Or she'd make some sort of faux pas quip at the dinner table, like the time we were sitting down to eat, and Nanny discovered a pea on the floor - there were no peas on the plate - and she said "A pea? I haven't had a pee in ages!". So Sundays were very special to us.

That's why it was so lovely, even if it was Red Rooster roast, to have lunch there today. But that wasn't the best bit. Later in the afternoon we sat down together for a chat, and Mel showed photos and videos of their recent Fiji trip. Bethany, my niece, was in her element, and was clambering all over me and laughing. Later on she started to get a bit fractious, so Kev decided to take her home, on the proviso that I would run Mel and the boys back later. And that's when it got really special.

How much I love these kids!

Nanny with her eldest Grandchild, and eldest Great-Grandchild

I went downstairs to play the piano (its my piano, but I just can't have it in my flat, so it stays at Nanny's). Then Mel and Nan came down, and we had an impromptu sing - all the old Army hymns - O Boundless Salvation, Crown Him with Many Crowns, How Great Thou Art, I'm Climbing Up The Golden Stair to Glory... Nanny got out her old songbook and we went through, singing all the old favourites. It was just wonderful, and very touching - especially when, for no apparent reason, as we ended the Founders' song (O Boundless Salvation), the three of us, Mel, Nan and myself, looked at each other and were stunned to see that we all had tears. I don't know why, but we did. Maybe it was a culmination of the loss of Pop, the realisation that Nanny is getting very frail, the memories of many congresses, the memories of days gone by - or maybe it was just a collective realisation of just how special the moment was, and a deep desire to hold on to it and treasure it for as long as possible, I don't really know.

And that, I believe, was a true "Pleasant Sunday Afternoon". One which I truly will cherish for the rest of my life.

The Apprentice Australia

When I first arrived in the UK, one of the things I was most critical of was the TV programmes. Instead of the usual dose of American sitcoms and dramas which I was used to in Australia, the BBC dished up a very dull diet of docu-soaps and Coronation Street, peppered with the occasional British comedy (thank goodness - the light at the end of the tunnel). Suffice to say I didn't watch much TV at first.

Then the first of the reality shows popped up - Big Brother. I didn't actually know about this show until the last few episodes of the first season, which I happened upon one day, and actually found it quite interesting. So the next year, when Big Brother resumed, I became a bit of a convert. It was about the 3rd season of this show that I started to lose interest, mostly because the people on it were a bunch of time-wasting wannabes, pathetic really, and it all became terribly dull.

Then came the onslaught of similar "reality" drivel - Pop Idol, Dancing With the Stars, Britain's Got Talent, yada yada - and the surprising thing was this formula of mindless, wannabe, talentless television was not just limited to the UK, no, it was being picked up all over the world! So when I came back to Australia, I was subjected yet again to the same crap.

Amongst this rubbish though was the occasional gem - my favourite two shows being "I'm a Celebrity, get me out of here!" and "The Apprentice". I guess I liked the former because it was set in Queensland, and usually there was at least 1 Z-List "celebrity" on there that I had actually heard of. As for "The Apprentice", well, the real appeal of that show is Sir Alan Sugar. I know that the original version of this show was made in America, with Donald Trump, and I know he was famed for his dressing down of the candidates when he fired them, but having watched that show, and having watched the UK version, Donald Trump doesn't have a jot on Alan Sugar. No man's fool, calling a spade a spade, the man is capable of whittling out the truth and reducing the individual to nothing with merely a look. Aided by Margaret and Nick, who are incredibly perceptive and ascerbic in their comments, the formula is pure entertainment.

I've also watched the US version, and although Donald Trump is no Sir Alan Sugar, the show still is quite watchable (although the UK version is by far superior).

So when I discovered that they were now making an Australian version, I was pleased, if not skeptical. Would it live up to the UK and US versions?

Sadly, no. Having watched tonight's episode, I'm left wondering 2 things -

1 - Where did they find these dropkicks, and

2 - Who on earth is Mark Bouris? What exactly has he done in the world of business that anyone has actually heard of?

The success of this show has to lie with the guy in the boardrom - and Mark Bouris just doesn't cut it. His so called "dressing down" of the candidates is purely laughable. The catchphrase "You're fired" just has no punch coming from him - there's no real build up, and no surprise when you see who he fires - its usually the project manager. Then there's the "Nick" and "Margaret" - not a jot on the real Nick or Margaret - in fact you wonder what on earth they're there for, they do absolutely nothing. When they finally cut to the Margaret figure for her opinion, I actually thought she was one of the candidates, as they hadn't actually showed her all episode! They might as well get rid of them! And the tasks are the same old, same old - nothing new there - for example today's task, to design and market a children's cereal, including creating a jingle, a cartoon character and designing the cereal box, is straight out of the 3rd or 4th episode of this years' UK Apprentice. Even the music is the same - not the theme tune mind - but the backing music for the various segments of the show is straight out of Apprentice UK.

Yawn, yawn. Come on people, can't you come up with something new? And with people who actually have some personality? Terribly disappointing...

Moore Boating

So in the previous post I promised to write about my trip with Mum and Dad - and here it is.

For the first week of the school holidays Mum and Dad took off on their yacht "Dragon Lady" on the start of their "Up North" adventure. The plan was I guess for them to go as far up the North Queensland coast as possible before the need to turn back in time to be home for Christmas. Or something like that.

Anyway, for the first week they took Harry and Lachlan with them. Having seen the photos, I believe they had a good time - at least, I'm sure Lachlan did - I'm not so sure about Harry though as I believe he was quite sick for most of the time. Actually, when he got back he was terribly ill, which resulted in a couple of days stay in hospital. We still don't really know what was wrong with him.

The plan was though that Dad would get the train back with the boys at the end of the week in time to attend a microtia conference on the Gold Coast with Mel, Kev, the boys and Bethany. After the conference, he would drive back to Brisbane, where I would meet him - and we would drive together back up to Hervey Bay. Well, the plan pretty much took place - except that rather than drive back up on the Saturday we went on the Sunday.

I had a fabulous week there - we stayed a few days in Hervey Bay and then sailed over to Fraser Island for a night. Whilst at Fraser I mentioned to Dad that I would quite like to see some whales - so he organised for a whale watching trip in Hervey Bay (thus meaning we needed to go back to Hervey Bay, but hey, it was good). We sailed for the last part of our trip up the northern end of the bay and ended up in Bundaberg, where we met up with Uncle Max and Aunty Meredith for lunch and dinner.

The next day I left Bundy on the bus back to Hervey Bay to pick up my car which I had left at the marina there (we had made arrangements that I could return the key then and I would get Dad's deposit back). Nice drive back to Brisbane - it was all good. A totally fab week, ta Mum and Dad.