Welcome to the Macvolution!

I know, don't keel over from the shock - I'm blogging again.

Its not all that exciting, I just wanted to congratulate my lovely sister Mel on coming over to the dark side, and joining the Macvolution. She is now the proud owner of a very swish Macbook Pro - and I am desperately jealous, because mine is now 2 years old, and hers has all the bells and whistles...

Anyway, welcome Mel! Now we just have to get Dad and Beck on to it...

One Man Star Wars

Well as you all know (and if you didn't, then clearly you have been on another planet for the last few years), I am an avid Star Wars fan. Avid. So of course, it stands to reason, that if someone is presenting a "One Man Star Wars Trilogy" at QPAC - in the words of the Jackson Five - I'll be there! Which is therefore where I found myself this evening, alongside my nephews Lach and Haz, and my lovely sister Mel.

The 501st were there too, much to Harry and Lach's delight, and they posed with them for a few photos. Haz's favourite I think was Darth Vader...

The show was performed by Canadian actor Charles Ross, and was a very clever 1 hour long rendition of Episodes 4, 5, and 6 - which was perfect for Mel and I, being Star Wars purists (the original trilogy all the way baby!). This actor manages to give very realistic impersonations of the various characters in an abridged version of the 3 films that has you totally enraptured as you work out which scene you're up to next. It was just fantastic.

The boys seemed to get most of the gags, and seemed to enjoy themselves, which was just as well, as this was their first theatre experience ever (poor kids, hope I haven't scarred them for life!).

Anyway, I found some youtube clips of Ross performing this at other venues, which I link here:

And here's a few pics of the boys with the 501st...At the end of the evening, Ross gave us a sneak peak at his One Man Lord of the Rings...which was very good, although will clearly be a waste on me - I hated the films! Anyway, you can find his website here for more information.

So it was a very good evening!

Miss M's Birthday Party

Well yesterday was the lovely Miss M's 3rd birthday party. My sister Beck held it at her house, and there were hundreds of little kids there! Well, not literally hundreds, but it sure did feel like it!

It was my job to provide the 'pass the parcel'. Now when I was growing up, 'pass the parcel' basically involved layer upon layer of newspaper, with some sort of prize at the end. Usually the birthday boy or girl got the last layer, so they would get the prize. But in this day and age, everyone gets a prize - so that means instead of empty layers, you have to put a freddo or something in each layer. That also means that you need to know how many kids are going to be playing, so you can make sure that each kid gets a prize. And of course, you have to rig it so that the birthday child gets the big prize.

Personally, I think that's a pile of bollocks. And I know Beck does too - but its kind of hard to buck this new trend, as every kid that goes to a party now expects it. So I dutifully wrap up something like 20 odd layers of newspaper, each with a freddo - and then think to myself, gee, that looks a bit stingy. So I unwrap them, add in a chupa chup, a couple of freddos and a box of smarties. Much better. The prize for the winning child is the same as everyone else, plus a few more chupa chups, few more freddos - and a bag of lollies.

Anyway, off we go. And when the first child unwraps the layers, Beck can't quite believe what pours out. Apparently my version is way more generous than normal. Now I've been given the job of doing all the pass the parcels!

The funniest thing though, was watching Miss M all through this. As the parcel went round, and as each time the music stopped it never stopped on her, she began to get more and more distressed - to the point that she decided to leave the game and go cry on Daddy's shoulder. You can imagine she was more than relieved when on the last round she won the grand prize!

Anyway, it was a lovely party - and as it was also my Grandma's birthday, we had a little cake and celebration for her too. I love my Grandma, she has something like 15 Grandchildren, 17 or so great Grandchildren - and she loves each and every one, and makes time for each and every one. So there she was at the party! Fantastic!

Anyway, here's a couple of pics...

The Birthday Girls - Grandma and Miss M - blowing out Grandma's cake

Miss M's Birthday cake

Miss M's guests playing pass the parcel

The One Where Kylie Is Ripped Off - Again

Yep, you read it right. Ripped off...

Some might argue, that depending on how you look at it, I haven't really been ripped off - I've had a bit of a win. But I feel I've been ripped off..!

Why? Well, let's just put it this way, in Australia, unlike in England (well unlike I ever experienced anyway), every year you must put in an income tax return. The idea is that obviously throughout the year the Government rips off Australians through the tax system and therefore at some point gets caught out - through the income tax return.

The last income tax return I did allowed me to travel to England, it was that substantive. So you could forgive me for thinking I would have a bit of a windfall this time around - as obviously I haven't put in a return in 11 years - so surely I would be owed a substantive amount.

The problem is, during this 11 years, I have accrued 2 properties - which makes the income tax return somewhat tricky. Not the sort of thing I could do on my own, that's for sure.

So, I rocked up to my last accountant, the lovely (not) H&R Block, complete with my rather overflowing box of 11 years worth of receipts, contracts, and paperwork relating to my tax. The guy there, the so-called "manager", took one look at the box, and, I swear, audibly groaned. Suffice to say he was extremely unimpressed by the prospect of the honour of completing my tax.

But still I gave him my box, and headed off. Until 3 weeks later, when I phoned to find out the progress on said box - and discovered he hadn't even taken the lid off it. So, under the premise of "I need some paperwork from the box, and would sort it out into financial years", I rocked back up to H&R Block and picked up my box - never, ever, to darken the door of that establishment again.

Doing my research, I realised that I would need an accountant who knew a bit about property investment, which is how I found my current one. I made the necessary appointment and rocked up there with the box. A 30 minute consultation later and I had been assured that they would do the very best for me.

The only problem is, in choosing to return to Australia mid tax year, I would appear to have disadvantaged myself taxwise, as clearly I can only get back that tax which I have paid - and having only worked not even 6 months of the tax year, that is a relatively paltry sum in comparison to that which I could have earned had I been working for a full 12 months. Alas, this can not be helped.

But what could have been helped, and should have been helped, is that I should have checked what this new accountants' fee would be. I didn't, and now I am seriously paying the price.

Because the blighters have charged me a whopping $250 per hour to complete this return - and suffice to say with 11 years or so, it has taken the guy about 10 hours or so to do the work. So, today, he presented me with the outcome - a paltry sum in comparison for a return, similar to that which funded my airfare to England 11 years ago - which was achieved without the so-called 'benefit' of negatively-geared property - and from which will come the whopping $2500 fee for the privilege.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding!

So again, Kylie gets seriously ripped off - this pittance refund will only make a tiny dent on my credit card bill, let alone do what I had hoped, which was fund a return trip to England, or at the bare minimum, buy me a Mac Mini... or enable me to get proper broadband in my house...

Crap!

Bethany's Birthday

Well I know its been a while since I did some blogging, but alas, I have been somewhat busy.

Just thought I'd drop a quick line about the lovely birthday party we had at Mel's for Bethany a few weeks back. It was her second birthday, and it was really lovely because Nanny, who has been unable to leave the house for about 9 months or so now, was able to come too.

The whole family was there (well except for Mum and Dad of course who are sailing) and we just had a wonderful time!

The gorgeous birthday girl herself

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.

A Whale of a Time

I do intend to write a proper post on this, but for now, here is the video of Whale Watching that Dad and I made during the second week of the school holidays. The first day, we went on a whale watching boat, Whalesong - and when we saw the whales, Dad, who had his personal GPS with him, wrote down the co-ordinates so we could go back the next day.

Which is what we did - two days later - and so the next bit of footage was taken on Dad's boat, Dragon Lady.

What a fab trip!