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Eighteenth Century Ringlets and Dog Diarrhoea





There is one thing necessary to my felicity on occasions when ladies and gentlemen come to call: the satisfaction in the knowledge that my best gun dog's bowels have not been made lax through an injudicious diet. Furthermore, that my honoured guests, while setting foot upon the threshold of my abode, will not step, hop, or jump in any such blob, puddle or mucussy portion of dog poo; especially if it has corn sticking out of it.



Alas, dear readers, it seems to be my most melancholy lot in this life to coincide the great milestones of my family with human intrusions and canine extrusions. And so it was today: B day, that is Ball Day; when my eldest was preparing for her happy debut. AND I SPENT 3 FREAKING HOURS ROLLING UP HER HAIR IN FIFTY FLIPPING RINGLETS! Upon my word! That was a mighty undertaking. I must own that I am a great proficient, indeed!
Yes, well now she is gone! This minute she is likely dancing in her $665 merriment! ($675 if you count the money I paid her most beloved sister to help clean up the inconvenient diarrhoea on the verandah, some hours before the mamas and their children arrived prior to the group departure.) Luckily, Fortune was with me and when the doating mothers suggested photos out there to catch the view, I declined (for the smell was merely still masked though the solids (and liquids) were gone) but citing "unpleasant memories" I waved them over into the front yard for a more agreeable location.


The hour is now 10pm and it will be gone the midnight chime before my cherished one bustles into the vestibule and inner lobby of my open plan drawing room/kitchen . Or even 1 a.m. if they go through the Macca's drive-through on the journey home. Nothing will promote my happiness more if she brings me tales of delight and respectable partying plus a choc-caramel frappe.




Water for the dog.

I'm back and thank goodness the holidays are over because they sucked. No commiserations please, dear readers, and definitely NO HUGS because today I am prepared and have 5 packets' worth of 600 drawing pins cunningly concealed on my person just waiting for a random hugger. Apparently it's national Hug Day or some nonsense, but I had a very nice little forewarning in the weekend paper thank you very much, so try it if you dare.

The echidna is an Australian monotreme (egg-laying) mammal. It has retro-punk spines which are good for cleaning your shoes on and, like true Australians, prefers a metaphorical embrace.


Trees yes. People no.


Example of the pit-falls of hugging: Pit bull hug-attempt of a porcupine.

Hug day. Stupid, rubbishy Generation Y idea. I blame the mothers for leaving their Gen Y babies in day care; driving off in their window-tinted, air-conditioned 4WDs as their snivelling designer-toddlers clutched hold of mini backpacks, mobile phones and the nearest abandoned kid for comfort. That's where it all started. That and America. Don't know how or why it is but there seems to be a culture of hugginess in the U.S for some reason: hugginess and emotional men who cry. Goodness, I hope it hasn't spread to England! But I'd say, by now, Canada has probably been infected.

Huggy people puff themselves up as if they are emotionally superior.

Gasp! But maybe we are to blame?? Aussie blokes have never been traditionally huggy. Never, that is, except on the sports field. Notably in Aussie Rules footy.

Double gasp! Germaine Greer (fearsome feminist) called it "homosexual horseplay". Now I'm even more worried! Is it like a Scientologist-type plot but by the Blue Nail Polish Set to take over the world? (I've seen Tom Cruise hug people. ..Does he play football, too?)

Apparently there will be "cuddle squads" stationed around the city today, giving away free hugs to people. Disgraceful. At least make 'em pay for them! Plus, does nobody care how hard we've worked for centuries on our inner-urban facelessness, isolation and anonymity!?!

Xenu and his cuddle-squad. Avoid the Perth CBD and especially the pavement outside 108 Murray Street today.

So all we can do for the rest of the day, really, is to take precautions. Maybe we will get lucky and in future years there will be an outbreak of some communicable skin disease and Hug Day will be outlawed.

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I'm pinning my hopes on it.