The Nook of Oz

Indeed, the time has come when we make a small attempt to brighten your lives with a little giggle, or, if we’re lucky, a damned good belly laugh.
This week I have a small joke for you in honour of that wonderous time of year we know as Christmas.
Stay with me here, it may not seem like it’s a Christmas joke, but all will be revealed in the fullness of time.
I found a little Christmas image for you as well.
It made me smile and hopefully it will make you do the same.
Once you’re done here wander over and see my co conspirators in Mark, ~m and Muffy for some more Monday mirth.
Boobs and Willies
A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, ‘Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?’
The father, surprised, answers, ‘Well, son, a woman goes through three
Phases. In her 20s, a woman’s boobs are like melons, round and firm.
In Her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they are like onions’.
‘Onions?’
‘Yes, you see them and they make you cry.’
This infuriated his wife and daughter, so the daughter said, ‘Mom, how
Many kinds of ‘willies’ are there?’
The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, ‘Well dear, a man goes through Three phases also.
In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and Hard.
In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree’.
‘A Christmas tree?’
‘Yes — dead from the roots up and the balls are just for decoration.’

It’s only the middle of November, and already the madness has begun.
Starts happening earlier every year, I know, but hey, when there’s a buck to be made, money grubbing retailers have no scruples, we all know that.
Ads are rife already.
They tell us what children need under the tree, and let me add, it was decided many months ago, what is in for Christmas this year.
Ordinarily, what’s in has a price tag that could feed a 3rd world country for 6 months.
Apparently kids have got to receive it under the tree, or their lives will be forever ruined and in post Christmas months, parents will be forking out for therapy bills the size of a national debt, because the children will feel depraved deprived.
Amidst the madness, why we actually have Christmas is lost, that’s the sad part.
I’m not an overly religious person, but the meaning behind Christmas is certainly not lost on me, not by anyone’s standards.
This year we’re going to Victoria.
We’ll spend 5 days with family we don’t see nearly enough of, we’ll eat, drink and be merry, but before we go I have things to do, and buy.
Yes, we’ll leave presents behind for those we’re not spending the holidays with, but there are other presents to buy as well.
For many, many years, I’ve bought gifts for people less fortunate than us, and I put them under the Wishing Tree, and in fact, until about 3 years ago, Mark didn’t even know I do it.
As our family has been blessed, and grown with grandchildren, the amount of gifts I put under the tree has also grown.
For every grandchild we have, I put a present under the tree.
This year there are 8 presents to be bought and wrapped.
Our grandchildren are lucky to have been born into a close knit {albeit somewhat disfunctional} family, and are surrounded by people who love and cherish them, but many are not so lucky as we all know.
Before we board our plane on December 23rd, I will have purchased the following gifts.
2 for 9 year old girls
1 for a 7 year old boy
2 for 6 year old boys
1 for an almost 3 year old boy
1 for an almost 2 year old girl
1 for a baby boy, a year or less old
I have no idea of who they will go to, but I’ll buy them all the same.
These gifts will be nothing like what’s in this year, nor will they cost a squillion dollars, but I can tell you this.
They will go to children far less fortunate than our grandchildren.
Children who don’t have the advantages every child should have.
Children who were born without the choices I know our grandchildren will have as they grow, and born to parents who are either unable, or unwilling, to do what should be done for every child born.
To me, it’s things like we do every year that Christmas is about.
Thinking of those less fortunate, and making an effort to brighten their lives just a little.
Whilst I detest the commercialisation of Christmas, the thought of any child having nothing on the day, breaks my heart.
Every child deserves at least one gift, even if it’s only a teddy bear.
I tell you this not to have people say “Good on you Maureen!!” but in the hope that they will remember what Christmas is about.
A celebration of life and family and a time to reflect on how lucky some {read Mark and I} are in comparison to many.
As uncharitable as it may be to say this, the retailers can go to hell and shove their what’s in this year gifts clean up their arse, because I want none of it.
I’m trying hard to ignore the madness and merely do what I’ve always done.
Enjoy our family and be bloody grateful for exactly how lucky we are with the family and friends we have, because it’s these people that make the day as good as it can get.
That’s what Christmas is about.
It’s got nothing to do with the garbage sprouted by slimey money grubbing retailers, nor has it got anything to do with how much you spend.
It’s about what you do, and appreciating what, and who, you have in your life, and being grateful for them.
I’m more blessed than I could ever have imagined I would be, and I appreciate it more than I can ever say.
I can but hope there are 8 kids who’s Christmas will be brightened just a little this year too.

I’m stunned, shocked, horrified.
You name it, that’s where my head is.
Any system that can let this happen is in some serious trouble, as are any people within that system.
For an idea of what I’m on about, read this.
The understatement of the year goes to NSW Minister for Community Services Linda Burney who said this.
“…the girl’s case had been overlooked by a “stretched” department”
“It is true, in my view, that DoCS should have intervened more strenuously than what they did,” Ms Burney
Do ya think Lindy????
This is the brains trust running a department to protect children and the community??
God help us all.

Yes, after a week’s absence, that madness we refer to as Malarky Monday is back in an attempt to tickle your little funny bones.
I had a bit of a trawl on Youtube in an effort to find this video.
I’ve known of it for some time, and at one stage had it, but somehow managed to lose it.
How one loses a video is beyond me, but I managed it.
Anyhow, the video in question has me in fits every time I hear it because it appeals to my sick sense of humour.
It’s been called the greatest prank call of all time, and I must admit, I tend to agree.
Even if you’ve heard it before, listen again, because after all, the idea of terrorising a telemarketer is a thought that I’m sure all of us can relate to, and to have a laugh on one of those little bottom feeders can only be a good thing.
The bastards terrorise us all the time, and payback is a bitch.
Gotta love karma hey??
After you’ve had a giggle here, wander on over to Mark and ~m for some more fun to start the week.

Some 8 years ago, we decided we needed a sea change.
At the time we had no idea of where we wanted to go, but had enough trust in fate to know somewhere would present itself when the time was right.
The only thing we knew for sure was it needed to be near the water because we both love it so much.
That was the only set criteria we had.
A year or so after the decision was made, we came to Townsville in order to spend Christmas with 2 of the girls and one grandchild.
After less than 24 hours of being here, we knew.
This is it.
This was where we wanted to be.
It wasn’t only the tropical weather {although that played a big part} it was the more laid back life style, the beaches, just the general feel of the the place.
We felt comfortable, the price of living was reasonable, plus there was a small part of family here, so that was a bonus.
If we’d found somewhere that had no family and felt as comfortable, we would have moved there though.
That family were here was just a bonus.
One of us had to stay behind and keep earning a living while the other went forth to the unknown in order to get a job and establish some sort of base for us, so Mark packed some clothes, hired a car and set off for Queensland.
He stayed with the aforementioned family and set about doing just that.
It took a while, but he got one.
7 months later, I threw my high paying job in, he flew down and collected me and enough stuff to give us a start.
What we bought with us fitted into a 7 x 5 trailer, and it was the bare basics.
We had no intention of spending what money we had on removalists, so we sold, gave away or left behind what we thought we could do without.
Some we put into storage, but not a lot.
It took me 8 months to get a job.
8 long months where we made do with 5 parts of bugger all money, car payments and rent to pay, and still had a need to eat, buy petrol and cigarettes, all the things that go into life.
Since I got that first job, I’ve had another 3 jobs, and I’m into my 4th.
Mark has had just as many, if not more, and finally…finally, we’re back where we started 7 years ago, just before we left Sydney.
We have good, secure, well paying jobs, and in fact Mark has just gotten a promotion and a decent pay rise, I’m a manager in a job I love, and life is on an even keel.
I can assure you, it has not been easy for the last 7 years.
It’s been bloody hard work.
We’ve had to borrow money from our family, and at times, from our children.
There have been times when we’ve come close to separating because of the stress, we’ve fought and argued, and we’ve almost ripped each other apart.
Yet, we persisted, because it’s just what we do.
It’s life, it’s marriage and it was a choice we made, with our eyes wide open.
We wanted to do it.
Would I recommend doing this to anyone else?
Hell yes.
There has been the odd moment when I wondered about our intelligence I have to say, but would I do it all again?
In a heart beat!!!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, there has been much happening in our lives, and I can assure you, most of it has been pretty shitful.
I won’t go into details, suffice to say the past 6 weeks have not been a happy time, nor has it been easy.
There have been a few times when it was close to falling apart, but as I said not too long ago, we do what we must.
Yesterday, things changed, with a dismissal.
Today it just got better, because Mark got exactly what he’s worked so hard for in the last year.
That one word {yes} will change many things for us, and for others.
The pride I feel tonight is quite extraordinary.
I wouldn’t even know where to start telling this man how proud I am of him, or how much I love him.
Sweetheart, your ethics, integrity, and the things I know you’re going to do from here on in make me smile broadly, and merely reinforce all the reasons I fell in love with you 14 years ago.
I just know how well you’re going to do this, and I look forward to seeing you bounce out of bed in the morning, ready to tackle the day that awaits with the passion I know you have.
Congratulations sweetie.
You earned this one the hard way.
Now I come to think about, I earned it too!!!
Honey, as proud as I am, know this.
You might be a big wig at work, but here at home you’re still just my husband, so you’d best be leaving the big boy boots at the front door my precious!

I love you more than you will ever know, and I’m so proud I’m almost bursting.
Enjoy.
Lord knows you’ve earned it!

There is nothing worse than spotting a suspicious looking mark on someone’s butt as they’re walking in front of you!
No matter how hard you try, you simply cannot take your eyes away!
It’s impossible!
As horrified as you are, still you watch as it rolls and moves with their arse, all while the person in question is blissfully unaware of your scrutiny.
If you’re anything like me, you would fully understand the temptation to tap them on the shoulder and say “Do you know you have skiddies???”, if for nothing but your own amusement!
The entire situation is made worse when said suspicious spot is on an arse the size of a small third world country!
Then it seems to take on a life of it’s own, jiggling and jumping all over the place, almost taunting you.
I mean hell, it has so much room to move, it’s almost like it stretches itself out!
The absolute nightmare scenario here is when the spot looks like a wet one!
OMFG, the horrific thoughts that enter my head??
Thoughts that struggle to stay in my head and not come out of my mouth!!
Do me a favour if you would?
For the love of pete, check your arse before you leave the house?
You just never know when I may be behind you!!

Reminds me of some people I know!

People who need to get a life and build bridges…
Ordinarily I’m not much into Halloween, but in honor of some very good friends of mine, I though I would make an effort this year.
I hope all and sundry enjoy whatever little bit of fun they’re having.

There are times in everybody’s life, when life itself becomes too much.
The effort to get out of bed and face another day is a task bigger than Mt Everest.
Much is happening in our lives at the moment, and it’s neither good, nor rosy, and it’s not even comfortable.
Yet, in true human spirit, I persist, and continue to get out of bed, every single day.
Day.
After.
Day.
We do what we must in order to make something of our lives, just to survive, do we not?
I’ve had many hard knocks in my life, some worse than others obviously, but none of what I speak of were easy at the time.
Still, I survived.
It’s what we do.
Human nature, being what it is, ensures our survival instinct is the strongest of all, no matter how low our mood, or the events happening at any given point in time.
Our instinct to survive in the face of adversity or whatever troubles us, is so strong, it sustains us through any dark tunnel we find ourselves in, and more often than not, gives us a far better appreciation of the good times when we manage to find the sunshine.
In the absence of darkness, how does one see what the light has to offer?
The old adage of what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger is 150% accurate.
I’ve always needed to be strong, for many reasons and for many people, and ordinarily I bounce back quickly.
I just don’t stay down for long.
Not seriously anyway.
Resilience is a wonderful thing and stands me in good stead most of the time.
Having said that, the days when I need to make an effort are, seemingly, becoming more frequent.
Of late I find it difficult getting my head to a place where I can dismiss the crap as beatable {is that even a word??}
Maybe I’m getting old, or I’m simply tired of adversity and problems?
Perhaps I’m over having to be strong?
Most days it seems like 2 steps forward and 1 step back.
Yet, I persist.
It’s just what we do…..

I’m a mad keen baseball fan, as is Mark.
When in Boston this year we went to see the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park, and had THE best night, and can’t wait to do it again, which we will.
Now, the World Series is the pinnacle of things to win in baseball.
The Holy Grail if you like.
Ticket prices are insane, yet still people pay for them without a second thought, and I will admit nothing would please me more than to see a World Series game {preferably with the Sox playing, of course}
My problem is that I have an issue with the amount I would need to pay, in order to achieve this goal.
Pay?
Hmmm.
In this case I’m not sure pay is the right word.
Perhaps barter would be a more appropriate word do you think?
Whilst I admire this woman’s loyalty to her team, I do need to ask what the hell she was thinking when she tried this little stunt.
The biggest problem it created for her is she tried to “barter” with a cop.
Maybe someone needs to tell her that in order to hit a home run, one must hit the ball right on the sweet spot of the bat, not let it go through to the catcher!!!