My Place & Yours (Your Place Or Mine?):: SECRET WEAPONS OF MASS CONSTRUCTION

I hate bra shopping. I've talked previously ( a long, long time ago, when PottyMouthMama was just knee-high to a grasshopper) about my disdain toward lingerie. The fear and loathing that comes with lingerie. So you might be surprised that my secret weapon is my Pleasure State My Fit bra. You might be thinking, what the heck? But dear friends, it gives me some va-va-va-voom where (sadly) currently (following a highly fulfilling career in breastfeeding) my ladies have ga-ga-ga-goooone.

picture is, unfortunately, not me

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My Bricole is the Theme Queen this week. She wanted everyone to out their secret weapon. What's yours?

Birthdays On The Rise

Matt's birthday is in just nine sleeps. Egads. I am not even close to being organised. I hate last minute birthday shopping. I like to get things months in advance so that I have time to forget what I've bought. I love choosing things that I think the recipient will lurve. But yikes. Matt's birthday. I had good intentions. Such good intentions.

I was going to make him a cushion (apparently it's all about the cushion for me at the moment, but what else can you make a man when you're a novice stitcher?!). I'd better get my skates on and start a-stitching otherwise this cushion train is about to depart. Initially I had thought I'd use some of the doilies I bought, but then I took a long hard look at myself and thought - what type of man wants a doily cushion? Probably not my man is the answer to that one folks. Matt + doilies is a little bit weird methinks. But Matt plus linen and stitching = ace of base.

Luckily for me, one of my good friends gave me this gorgeous Japanese embroidery book yesterday. Jam packed full of beautiful images and ideas. I would be hard-pressed to walk away from this book unenthused for embroidery. So this weekend imagine me stitching in secret. Commando rolling while couching, it's going to be a hard task, but I think I'm up to it. If all else fails it will just have to be one of those un-secret birthday presents.

Day 13:: Meeting The Fatherload (or Lightning Does Strike Twice or Close Your Eyes If You Just Don't Want To Know What This Girl Found Next)

Day 13: We've been thrust back into wintery weather. It's cold. It's grey. It's raining. Not exactly enticing for an evening walk unless you're a slug or a snail. Given I am neither, I was thinking of skipping out on Day 13. You'd never know the difference.

But I knew there was a cat in Melbourne that I had told I was doing this 21 days thing. If I didn't go, he might go off his Snappy Tom, and that would never do. A promise is a promise, and so I walked. Just a short 20 minutes, I couldn't get too cold in that time. Off I trotted with my seeds hidden in my pocket.

I scouted for patches of dirt that would make a nice home for some new flowers. I picked up a stick to help me in my venture. But every spot I saw didn't seem to suit. I finally came down a hill, found a quiet little alley and roughed up the earth, sowed a few seeds, covered them back up and resumed my walk.

It's in this street that I discovered the motherload. I hadn't really thought much of that place. I was trying to go cold turkey. I didn't have that ache in my bones telling me to go back, and my husband is averse to me collecting any more 'things'. But something drew me back.

I still held my seed packet tightly in my hand, my stick in the other. I noticed that outside that house there was a wheelie bin. Just a small one, standing guard at the end of the driveway. Surely not. No, there'd be nothing in it but a few old wrappers, a few dustballs, maybe even a hairball if I was super unlucky.

Obviously, I was feeling lucky punk. I flicked open the lid with my seed planting stick. Lo and behold what met my eyes was like gold! If I had found the motherload last week, then surely this was the fatherload. Is there such a thing? Well there certainly is now.

Piles and piles of old crockery. Strangely, I have been wanting for a very long time, a mix 'n' matched, hotch potch of crockery for everyday use. And only this week I'd been thinking that our dinnerset was pretty well over red rover. It's all chipped. It's all marked. It's just ugly and it's not a joy - but Matt uses that stuff for mixing paints - so it's not like I was going to ever just boom toss it out.

So I picked out a pile of this crockery. Lovely old patterns. Not a chip. No siree not a chip. I hot footed it home with about six plates in my hot little hand, to be greeted by my husband with a quizzical look plastered on his face.

"Where did you get those?"

"Someone's garbage bin."

- He screws his face up. I go put them straight into the sink. Can you feel the love tonight?

I had dinner, got the kiddlies into the bath, and headed out (see a theme here?) - again with torch in hand. I went through as much as I could. I probably should have worn gloves - but in all my flustered excitement, I just didn't bother.

If there's anyone living there - they're now thinking - my goodness, this crazy hobo lady is back. With a washing basket. Emptying our bin into her car.

Sadly a fair bit below the plates was smashed. So I didn't go beyond that. I couldn't very well upend the bin on the road. I was tempted to bring the whole bin home with me, and return it when I had gone through everything under the pale light of our garage. Now wouldn't that be a sight?

So this is it. Close your eyes. Hold your breath. The fatherload.

Do the mother and the fatherload have children? We can only hope.

PS - I know it's illegal - but have you ever heard of anyone being arrested for stealing garbage? Not me. Can you imagine my mug shot? I'd be the most excited person in history having found this loot.

PPS - Curlypops, go hard this weekend. The garbage is your oyster - now found the pearls.

An Amendment to My 'Secret' - And I Use That Term VERY Loosely

Recently I outed my 'secret' to the Universe. It was an attempt to find a house for us to move to.

Apparently my 'secret' needs to be more specific.

Apparently I need to give the Universe more guidelines. Apparently I was a little vague when I put it out there. So here I am. Here's my amended 'secret'.

-----

Dear Universe,

I know I said I wasn't too fussy with the house we moved into. Well I didn't mean it. I am fussy, but for good reason.

I know last time I did mention Kramer peeling vegetables in his shower, however, I didn't think you'd elaborate on that, and bring me to a house with a kitchen sink in the main bedroom. While I do enjoy cooking, I think cooking and sleep are two very separate activities. Just as drinking and driving are two separate activities. They should never be mixed. I'm not really a whipped cream and chocolate sauce kind of gal. So you know, that house wasn't entirely enticing for us.

I'd also like to say that I am not that into houses that are so randomly constructed that I might need a map to get around. The dark room in the house I refer to was great (not that we'd ever really use it), the compost was great, the space was cool, but the vegie patch was my favourite part - which doesn't really say much for the house, right?

So Universe, I know you probably thought you had creative reign when I was so vague - but now I am going to be a bit more upfront. A bit more brash. I'll tell you what I want - can you direct me to this place of my wildest dreams?

- floorboards are preferable, if we have to have carpet can it please be new?

- gas cooking is preferable

- a bathroom with a bathtub is preferable

- bedrooms larger than a shoebox are preferable

- no mould, no rising damp, no damp spots on the ceilings/walls etc

- a nice fenced flat backyard with a Hills Hoist in a SUNNY spot (I hate clothes lines in the shade - who does that??)

- storage is always looked upon favourably

- and as before a big tree to hang a swing in

- a shed for Matt to paint in

- lots of light

- quiet, safe area close to trains, parks and schools

This looks nice, but probably too large - I'm not such a big fan of cleaning.

Anyway Universe, I'll let you get to the nitty gritty of the details (hey, just to fine tune my request, no rodent/bug problems either, ok?) - thanks in advance.

Your friend,

PottyMouthMama

The Secret

By now, most people have heard of 'The Secret'. You know that book that Oprah et al were banging on about? Where you have to put your desires out to the universe, and before you know it, that boyfriend, diamond ring, or great six-figure paying job will be knocking down your door. Well, I didn't read it. But I feel like I get the crux of it.

So I am putting it out to the universe. I could even be tempted to live the secret if it really worked.

We're STILL looking for a house to rent. Seven months and counting. We're lucky that we're not in a huge rush, otherwise we could have struck a deal with something less than desirable. A three bedroom (hey, I'd take four!) simple little home for our little family. It doesn't have to have all the bells and whistles. It doesn't have to have any bells and whistles.

It does have to have a little garden.

It does need a kitchen.
It does need a bathroom (preferably two different rooms, not big on bathing while cooking.. but remember Kramer in the shower peeling vegetables?)

Get my drift? Or is The Secret that I have to be more direct. Do I have to say, I want a house with wooden floorboards, large rooms, a gas kitchen, a nice flat backyard, a big tree to hang a swing in, a shed for Matt to paint in, lots of light, in a leafy quiet area close to a train station?

So I've outed my secret.


I've been thinking overnight, if The Secret is such a secret, then why go on Oprah and tell everyone? Surely you don't want everyone to catch on and realise that if all you have to do to fulfill your dreams is to tell the world, then you don't want everyone doing it, do you? If I have a secret, I don't go on international TV and tell everyone. Not that my secrets are that exciting - mine are more like - 'Oh I was going to have one piece of chocolate, but it wound up that that one piece really was the whole block. One piece, whole block, well it still was one piece, just one very large piece.' Not really scintillating stuff.

Back to my brief for today. A house. Cute is good. Preferably not edible. Preferably not made by two out of the three below.

This is cute.

So Universe. This is my secret. Help a gal out!

What's your secret? Pop it in my comments, maybe the Universe is reading my blog too.

This Is...

Just a few of my favourite travel photos - how could I choose just one??

There are a few reasons this trip was one of my favourite ever. It was my first (and only - so far) trip overseas. Matt and I were newly engaged, and we had the best secret ever. I was pregnant with Noah but had only told our immediate family. It was a great secret to share together, run away overseas with our happiest secret, all the while discovering London and Paris together. I was probably the happiest girl on the planet.


But how could I sum up my favourite travel pic with just one photo? I can't. Whenever we're travelling, it usually means a ten on the fun-o-meter.


The first one is me feeding squirrels in Kensington Gardens. I thought they were the cutest things I had ever seen. Unfortunately after I started feeding these two, I heard a strange noise - looked up and saw Matt quickly walking away from me. I was puzzled. Moments later, a whole blanket of pigeons descended around me. Yuck. Thanks for the warning Matt!


Beautiful painted doorways in Notting Hill..


Galleries Lafeyette at Christmas time (and pretty well the only blue sky we got to see during our trip).

And this one totally captures us at the time. Happy. The beginning of our big love. On an adventure.

I can't wait to go back overseas, this time with the little ones. It's not on the cards at the moment, but you have to dream big to get anywhere! Travel gypsy style for a couple of months through France, Spain and Italy.. Then onto NYC!

Thanks to Hila for this weeks fun theme! And thanks to Three Buttons too!