The Carnies are Coming

Every year we go to the local show. Every year we wonder why. Kel's parents have been judges forever and so we've always been given free tickets. The children always have a ball and Kel and I are always fascinated at the 'carnies' who travel from town to town successfully selling their crap to fools like us. I can never resist the Cadbury or Snakes Alive showbags and the kids spend their inheritance on Military style plastic weapons or Mega War Head showbags. This year Bella was very excited about the whole thing, and apart from the sewerage spill in sideshow alley (I'm not kidding), it was otherwise bearable.

Here are a few happy snaps of Bella and Dad on the superslide and Bella and Patty on one of the rides.

Thank God it's over for another year.. Do you have a 'show' story to tell?

Flatchat

I wanted the name of my blog to reflect something of my life and I believe 'flatchat' kind of sums it up. One day I'll work out how to do a banner and have a picture of a steaming cup of coffee featured in it somewhere, as I love nothing more than stopping to have a quick chat with someone over a cuppa. I have tried for four years to start a tradition at my school to have people stop for 5 minutes at the start of the day to have a cuppa and a laugh. We used to do this at my previous school and we called it 'morning mangies' and someone would read a crude joke for the day and it made a major difference to morale amongst the staff. I have only had moderate success at introducing it at my current school, but it will happen eventually. Sometimes I get some very disapproving looks from a few particular staff, but it's the most important part of my daily routine at school. It's where you find out how people really are going and we usually just sit around and talk about our kids or what we did on the weekend. I love it.

Anyway, the last couple of weeks have been flatchat. I spent a couple of days in hospital having some surgery (I'll spare you the details) and then took a week off sick leave. I have recovered extremely well and thanks to the videos on loan from Leoni, have been able to relax and watch a myriad of chick flicks that have been on my must-see list since before I had Bella.

I'm now on school holidays (technically) but am starting my next Masters course this week. Therefore Sam and Patrick are going to spend a few days at Monnie's house out west. They will have a ball, but Kel and I hate when the kids go away. In fact, even though it is my idea to send them away, I haven't stopped having bad dreams since we organised it. Totally ridiculous I know, because they will be fine, but I just can never relax when all the kids aren't home.

Next week we'll all be home and we'll celebrate Pop's 70th birthday. I'll also help welcome some students from Aitape PNG, who are on their way to WYD08 in Sydney.

Thanks for dropping by.

Survival of the Fittest

When you grow up in a family of 8 children, you don't get a lot of luxuries. We rarely ever had shop bought biscuits or treats. Occasionally Mum would buy us all a cream bun or we'd have something special on State of Origin night etc. But generally there were just too many of us to share a packet of biscuits. We were by no means deprived but it mean that when we did have something yummy, we had to eat the whole thing in case our brothers found out we had something and they beat us to it. You quickly learn how to devour a whole bar of chocolate, your easter egg supplies or the row of monte carlos in a Family Assorted. Then I met Kelv.. Kelv is one of only three and his family too never had much money, but he didn't have to compete with his siblings for treats. So when Kelv would buy a packet of iced vovos, he could make them last a whole week. He still can't understand why when we have a packet of biscuits in the house, they only last one sitting.
I think Bella has developed some of my traits, because yesterday while I was having a shower and Kelv was sleeping (watching Bella), she ate an entire bag of cherries on the couch. I don't blame her, I would have done exactly the same thing. I did tell Kelv though, that I was not changing the next nappy!

Arthur-itis

No, I don't have an infected Arthur! It's my kids' way of pronouncing arthritis which I have from time to time. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (an auto-immune disease) after having Patrick 9 years ago and have travelled its roller coaster of pain, medication, remission, pain, medication etc. Lately it has been very good as I have using a new tablet called Arava. However often stress brings it on and things have been very hectic at work, and I have developed arthur-itis quite bad in my neck. Rheumatoid is a very misunderstood disease and isn't generally something that old people get - it mostly affects young men and women from the age of about 28 and has a juvenile version too (as you probably already know). By the way, don't look it up on google, as you will be horrified by what you see - I made that mistake.

Anyway, just sharing a bit about myself.

Old Soul

When Patrick was born (nearly nine years ago), he looked up at me and I swear he had been here before. I don't believe in reincarnation but had this sense that he already knew his place in the world. Patrick is totally comfortable in his skin. He's never tried to impress anyone, but manages to anyway. He's not particularly interested in playing with others and generally prefers his own company. Lately though he is really blossoming at school. He has been invited to join the Drama club, and will compete shortly in the local Japanese Speaking Competition. He was also one of the stars of his Eisteddfod group last year when the competed.

As a toddler I often lost him at shopping centres and once when my sister was looking after him, he was missing for nearly half an hour at the beach/esplanade. He knew where he was and he was ok with that. Every morning we have a battle about where his shoes are, or why his lunch is still sitting on the bench, but it never really seems to faze him much. No doubt as he grows up, I will lose lots of sleep about my little Pat, but I know that he won't be worrying. Love you Patty PumPum.

They call him Dr Kel

In a recent job interview as an IT specialist for a medical training facility, my husband told the panel, "I know it's unAustralian to say, but I am clever". Well, he's right. Nobody could deny that despite being the 'ideas man' I have alluded to earlier, he is a very smart and clever man. He has a theory about everything and when I question these "Kelvinisms", he is usually right and I am left thinking, "Man, how does he know that?".
Lately though I have been getting concerned about his new job (which he got by the way). He spends most of his time during the day around doctors and now I think he believes he is a doctor. He even came home the other day with a GP manual and tried to reassure me about a suspicious sun spot on my arm. "No that's definitely nothing to worry about there. See, here's a what a .... really looks like etc.." I had to remind him that he is not a doctor and is just the IT guy. (He's still using his favourite line though: I'm not a gynaecologist, but I'll have a look at it for you"..)

Christening Gown

Thought I would show off our family Christening Gown. I've got a very average camera, which doesn't show the intricate detail but I still think our family gown looks beautiful. It was first made in 1898 by my husband's great grandmother and brought out to Australia in 1934. It has been worn by thirteen family members since then, including my husband Kel, and children Sam, Patrick and Isabel (pictured here). I think it's pretty special and hope I can pass it on to my children's children.

Go West

I can't wait for the long weekend coming up. I'm heading out west to see my sister Monica and her husband Darren at Hughenden. The kids will all have a ball together and hopefully Kel and I can relax. School's been very hectic and I've finally finished the 6000 word assignment I've been working on.

Looking forward to a few wines on the front deck Mon.. Here are some old photos of my niece Georgia and my nephew Sydney (in the Christening gown we made for him).

Kath