Too Hot

I was going to post yesterday but Holy Friggin' Moly Batman it was too hot.

How hot was it? By 9 am it was already 34 degrees C (93 degrees F) on my front porch in the shade. By 1 pm it was 40 degrees C (104 degrees F) both in the shade and in my house. No, I don't have air conditioning. I have a pedestal fan for each room, ceiling fans in the main living areas and a large house exhaust fan. At those temperatures, however, all I do is replace the stale hot air inside with the fresh hot air from outside and blow it around a little bit. There was also a sickly looking haze hanging around all day.

I felt terrible. It had been hot - although not this hot - since Sunday. I'd had a dull headache since Monday, was drinking many litres of water and going through boxes of my Water Sensations flavouring (and on the loo a lot) and my cankles had turned into baby elephant legs. I spent a lot of time in the shower - water restrictions be damned - and in the pool wearing an old t-shirt of the Hermit's.

Thankfully it's slightly cooler this morning after some weak-ass storms last night and very overcast. In fact the Tween just woke up and said "Woah, look at the sky." It's a funky orange-y colour but not much breeze. Temps inside and out are hovering around 26 degrees C (nearly 79 degrees F). And no, it's not summer yet.

And the weirdest bit for me? This weekend I'm setting up the Christmas tree. I don't think I'll ever get my Northern Hemisphere-reared head around the concept of Christmas in sweltering summer.

Stay cool everyone!

Surprise Shower

It's not easy to catch me by surprise. I mean, with three kids I'm usually pretty good at detecting sneaky behaviour. But two weeks ago when Patsy invited me down to her place for afternoon tea yesterday (sounds very proper, doesn't it?) I didn't give it much thought. We're always going to each other's places for tea - we're neighbours! We have nought but a flimsy fence and a dodgy gate between our two properties, and there are weekends when our kids live at each other's houses.

But then I was given a specific time and told to make sure the Hermit came along. I should've been suspicious then, and I suppose I was a little. As I told the Hermit as he made his typical grumbles about having to leave the house, I was sure Patsy just wanted to do something nice for us with the Tadpole coming soon.

I was right of course, I just didn't realise she had others in on her plan.

We were ambushed not only by Patsy, but Maurs, DarkSide Deb, NotPlain Jane, Miss WTF and Mumfies. Even the Teen was in on the plot, having swiped my mobile phone to get the phone numbers for said people. I was truly surprised - you don't expect a baby shower for baby #4!

You can see the rest of the pictures here - not to worry, there aren't very many - but lots of fun was had in the air conditioned house playing "Guess the Baby Food", "T.P. Nappies", and "Name the Baby". The last is owing to the fact that we're 11 days out and the Hermit STILL won't commit to a name. My personal favourite was 'Yeti' (the letters of our names were used and let's face it, there aren't many that start with 'Y') from NotPlain Jane.

The gifts were all lovely, of course. The Toddler now has them scattered all over the house but assures me they are for her "brothersister" (she's never been able to drop the 'sister' part). Well, nearly all of the gifts... Miss WTF and DarkSide Deb gave me a "survival pack" consisting of lots of American junk food and soft drink, some Twinings tea and of course these:


Uh, shouldn't I have had these nine months ago? Or is this a hint to stop reproducing already? I particularly like the thoughtful touch of my friends, knowing my love of chocolate, getting the pack that has '2 Choc Ribbed' condoms included. I don't think I'll be giving those to the Toddler as balloons.

So thanks to everyone for coming yesterday, and a big shout out to Patsy - the sneak - for planning this all under my very nose. And if after seeing the pictures you decide to change your bet (or place one) in The Baby Pool, just follow the link!

Saturday Skinfest

Before we get to it, I need to wish a very happy birthday today to Momma Mooselet. I don't think she'd mind me telling you that while she may have hit the big 6-0 this year physically, mentally she's no where near that. It varies from day to day, but I don't know many younger at heart than she. She taught me everything I know, from my ABC's to my sense of right and wrong, and most importantly for all of you today the appreciation of the finely sculpted male form. Sure she came with a group of us when we went to a male strip show, but she also took me to see Mikhail Baryshnikov perform when I was 16. I'm not totally uncultured, you know. Mom, this Skinfest is for you and I hope you have a fantastic birthday.

The final of the Tri-Nations game is tonight, with Australia taking on the defending champs New Zealand. If Australia can pull of the win, and I think they can, it will cap a brilliant year for Australia Captain Darren Lockyer and his manly, manly biceps:


Mommy, I found Amos Roberts washed up on the beach. Can I keep him?


Mom, while incredibly athletic as a young woman (it apparently skipped a generation and went straight to my kids) never had much time for cheerleaders. But since she put up with my father leaving Playboy around the house, so I know she doesn't mind you men out there having your eye candy as well. This young lass from South Sydney appears to be playing peek-a-boo:


More Skinfest next week!

Photo Friday

I miss Match Report Monday. Not just because I miss football and having that social time with all my friends, but because it makes my blogging life easier. I don't have to think about what I'm going to post about on Monday - it's the match report. Saturday Skinfest fills the same type of role. Also helps I don't actually write the match report, just edit it.

So in that same vein I bring you Photo Friday. I'll post one picture of whatever tickles my fancy - old pictures, new pictures, family pictures, Australia pictures.

To kick things off, I bring you a rarity indeed. A photo of me that I actually like! Must be the shirt:

Gobble Gobble

Despite being here for nearly 4 and 1/2 years now and thoroughly embracing the Australian lifestyle, I haven't forgotten it's Thanksgiving back in the US.

This is the 4th consecutive year I haven't cooked a turkey, and I'm starting to feel a little guilty. I did say last year I would do a full-on American style Thanksgiving for my Aussie mates, but given my current condition I think I can be excused again. I have also obtained my special dispensation from Momma Mooselet to not cook a turkey and thereby avoiding the wrath of the Great Turkey God once again.

I do still take this time to reflect upon things I am thankful for in my life, which is something we all should do from time to time no matter what country we're from. I'm thankful for -

• my wonderful if introverted husband the Hermit and my three, soon to be four, beautiful children.
• my supportive family back in the US. Their understanding about why I've chosen to stay in Australia makes the homesickness, when it does happen, easier to bear. To my parents, my brother and my in-laws - you're the best.
• my friends here in Australia, especially Mumfies and Miss WTF. You are the other side of the equation when it comes to remaining here in Oz.
• all of you who read this blog and leave me lovely comments. What's the sense in talking if no one is listening?

I'm thankful for a lot more, really. See:

You Are 88% Thankful

You're an incredibly thankful person, and everyone around you feels very appreciated. You inspire people to be more optimistic, forgiving, and grateful.

How Thankful Are You?

So to all of you reading back in the States, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and are able to spend it with friends and/or family. To my mates here, I will do the turkey feast next year, complete with turkey baster and apple pie but NO pageants and NO centrepieces.

The Baby Pool Is Open

No, not this type of pool:

The betting pool, silly. Since we're a little over two weeks out of our scheduled delivery date I thought now would be a good a time as any to open the pool to your bets. Now since we know the date and even know the approximate time - cutting begins at 1:30pm - bets are only open to weight and length.

A little background on my childbearing history, to give everyone a fair shot:

The Teen - born nearly 2 weeks late via unplanned caesarean section, weighed 8 lbs., 0.02 oz. and was 21 3/4 inches long (3.64 kgs, 55.25 cm).

The Tween - born 10 days early via unplanned caesarean section, weighed 7 lbs., 15 oz and was 20 inches long (3.53 kgs., 50 cm.).

The Toddler - born 9 days early via planned caesarean section, weighed 8 lbs., 2 oz and was 20 inches long (3.72 kgs., 50 cm.).

So as you can see, I'm fairly consistent. Yesterday I asked my OB what his thoughts were, and he figures "around 8 pounds". A few other things to keep in mind before placing your wager:

• The Tadpole will be a full 18 days early.
• If one more person says to me "Wow, you're... big!" I may have to hit them. Yes, I'm enormously large with baby, I get it. Back off.
  
• Neither the Hermit or myself were particularly large babies - somewhere between 6 & 7 pounds.

Now the rules of the pool:

• There is no cost to enter or play.
• Entries close at 8 December 2006 at 9 am Brisbane time. That's 3 hours before I check into hospital.
• You may change your mind as often as you like, but only the final entry will be valid. You may have been spot on three entries ago - doesn't count.
• Enter in either metric or imperial measurements, whatever your first grade teacher taught you to use.
• The person closest to the actual measurements will be declared the winner, with weight being the determining factor.
• In the event of a tie, you both win. Or how ever many there are of you win.
  

But Mooselet, how do I enter? Simple - leave a comment on this post (that's the little 'witty remarks' link below) with your guess, or email me with same. If you choose to email me, I will post it here in the interests of fairness to everyone. The only, and I mean ONLY, verbal guess I'll take are from my parents-in-law if they're interested in playing along. I would ask that if you choose to post anonymously you leave some kind of name so we know who you are. You may be the lucky winner and we'd never know it.

And what do you win, besides bragging rights? The winner will receive either a large box of Tim Tams or American junk food of choice, depending on your country of origin and personal tastes. Americans, if you've never had a Tim Tam you don't know what you're missing. They are as good as Vegemite is... an acquired taste (sorry Aussies - it's axle grease to most Yanks, you know that). All shipping charges are covered.

So come on in and test the waters. Let's see who's crystal ball is best.

No Mo'!!!

Dear Nathan Hindmarsh,

Nathan, oh Nathan. Look, I like you. Really I do. Despite the fact that you play for the Paramatta Eels, I admire your work ethic. I like you even though you have some of the Worst Hair EVER, and that's saying a lot in the NRL. I mean, have you seen Matt King? But despite that, I even featured you in the Skinfest a while back.

And then I saw you in the recent Tri-Nations:



Someone said that perhaps you were growing the moustache for Movember. Which would be a great and noble cause and for which you would quickly be forgiven, but given one of the photos I saw of you was dated for October I find this unlikely. So is there another reasonable explanation? Because let me tell you straight up, you remind me of a certain 'adult film' star:


And this is NOT a good thing!!! Looking like Ron Jeremy will not help you. Ever. Please, for the love of all that is good and decent and holy shave that damned thing off your top lip this instant.

Love always - unless you insist on keeping that... that... thing,
Mooselet

Saturday Skinfest

Wow, I haven't posted since Tuesday? Damn I'm slack. Where'd the rest of my week go? Admittedly I spent heaps of time Thursday cleaning out my pool after the "freshening" winds we had - if by 'fresh' you mean several knots shy of gale force. So every stray leaf, and worse still gum bark, ended up in my pool. I have an automatic pool cleaner but it sucks, or rather doesn't suck, on the bark. Still a mess but should have it finished by the weekend.

And because I have such a busy weekend planned I thought I'd be good and get to the Skinfest early. I was lamenting my loss of the calendar pics when I remembered an email I had received from Drew over at Naked Rugby League asking me to support the website. To be honest, I must've been delusional or something because I didn't check it out straight away. Well I did this morning and praise be to Mooby the Golden Calf there were MORE CALENDAR PICS!!!! Hot diggity dog. You can go check out the original pics in colour for yourself as I won't be reposting those, but I snagged a few additional ones for your viewing pleasure. Or if you're so inclined you can purchase your very own calendar, with all monies raised going to breast cancer research.

First up let's have Justin Hodges. I really think they should have used this photo for his month, as he looks much more comfortable:


Now I forget who this lovely young inked up player is, but you know what? I don't care! Is this objectification? You betcha:


Guys, I went looking for you. Really I did. I'm not being sarcastic this time, I went looking. I just can't find anything as scintillating as the male pics as far as NRL Cheergirls are concerned. I admit this is very unfair, but then again you have ample material in print and online form if you are so inclined. So let's just admire these girls, er, athleticism... and their belly buttons rings:


Right-o, must grab a cold shower after all of that! More next skin next week!

Friends Rule

I have fabulous friends. Seriously great mates.

It's been a crap week, and it's only Tuesday. Large scale arguments with the Teen - yes, it continued beyond the weekend after I received a letter from school telling me she is on the verge of suspension after receiving 4 detentions this semester. Nothing serious, which makes it all the more ridiculous. She's now doing time with being grounded and a total loss of MSN privileges until the end of the month.

The Tween, while doing well in the behaviour department, is living in another galaxy. This morning I pulled into the swim school parking lot after dropping him at school only to discover his trumpet in the back of the car. He has lessons every Tuesday and so diligently brought his trumpet out to the car, placing it in the back next to his backpack and hat. Upon arrival at school he opened the back and removed his backpack and hat, yet somehow missed the large black case containing his trumpet. It's only a 7 minute drive to school!! How does that happen?

Meanwhile, the Toddler continues to awaken at 5:30 am and doesn't collapse until 7 pm, with no nap in between. It's been hot for the last 4 days, with the average temperature in my house 30 degrees Centigrade (that's roughly 86 degrees Fahrenheit) because we don't have air conditioning. And it's not summer yet. So I've been living in a puddle of sweat as I haul my overly large pregnant carcass around. And Shelby has taken to pulling a Houdini every time the guy behind me rides his dirt bike, or there's a storm, or whenever there's a noise louder than a car engine. I spent over an hour one day last week looking for her. I know now how she's doing it, but still haven't come up with a solution.

So I've been a little cranky. If my 'little' you mean one incident shy of complete head-spinning pea soup-hurling madness.

As I was preparing to leave the house today to collect my spawns of Satan loving offspring, someone pulled up to my gate. Thinking it was just the Post wanting to drop off the lamp I bought off eBay for the Toddler's & Tadpole's bedroom, I ignored him. I wasn't hauling myself all the way down my driveway and then back up again; I'd just pick it up tomorrow. But then he got out, came through the gate, ignored the barking of Dumb and Dumber and started coming up. Wow, you're really desperate to deliver that lamp buddy.

But he didn't have a lamp. He had in his beefy hands this:


I ruled out the Hermit almost instantly. It's not my birthday, nor my anniversary or any other occasion for which flowers are warranted. He's just not a flowers-for-no-reason kind of guy. And I haven't had the Tadpole yet, so they weren't congratulatory blossoms. Maybe he had the wrong address?

Nope, they were for me. As I signed for them I joked that my husband must've done something really wrong. On the card envelope was written "2 dogs will go crazy not aggressive", which told me whoever sent these knows my dogs really well and ruled out the Hermit. Sorry honey, it's just not something you'd think of. Inside was written:

Dear Mooselet, We still love ya! Love, Miss WTF

Best. Mate. Ever. I would totally marry Miss WTF if I wasn't already married. And if one of us wasn't a girl because I'm just not into that whole lesbian thing (not that there's anything wrong with that). But she's totally sweet to brighten my day, hell my week, like that and I thank her from the bottom of my heart (despite it's squashed position in my chest cavity at the moment).

I'm so getting you a SpongeBob balloon for Christmas.

FREE

Free to Good Home*:


15 year old Teen. Comes with many of the latest gadgets, including own mobile phone and mp3 player, and enough clothes for two or three companions. Will include furniture if desired. Braces nearly paid for, will make final payments on those. Is housebroken, and is capable of completing own chores including laundry. Please note the dictionary definition of capable. Currently holds a job. Likes pop music, long conversations on phone, and has an active social life. Will deliver if required.

I know I'm a bit hormonal these days. I'm pregnant, it's hot and humid and I can't reach my legs to shave them. You'd think that'd be enough warning for those around me - except for my "the-world-revolves-around-ME" Teen.

Tuesday she got very upset with me, telling me that I ask her to do too much and it interferes with what "little life" she has. Huh??? Anyone will tell you I ask her to do very little in terms of household chores - put dishes in dishwasher when finished, do own laundry, take out recycling - and while I do ask her to watch the Toddler for an hour here and there while I run an errand or have a lie down (I pay her if it's for longer periods) it's a far cry from forcing her to be the "second mother" she claims I make her be. I'd also like to point out she's got the most active social life of anyone in our house.

We've also been fighting about the amount of money she owes me for the downloading of iTunes or various "extras" she asks me to buy her. When she got her job back in the beginning of the year, I made it clear that she was to take responsibility for her spending. I would continue to get her what she needed, but if she wanted a new outfit 'just because' or blew through her phone credit in a week it was up to her. So when I bring up just how much she owes me for this or that she goes to pieces, bursting into tears or storming off in a rage over how "unfair" I am.

So why am I making the offer of above? This afternoon's conversation went something like this:

Phone rings. "Hi Mummy! Work called me in tonight from 4-6." Translation - you have to drive me to and from work despite me not asking you first if you had plans.

"Fine, but you need to be out of there on time. I'm going out tonight." I'm off to my book club at 7pm. Never mind I was planning on sitting down to dinner at 6, I don't mention that.

With glee in her voice, "I'm going to be rich this week cos I've worked so many hours!"

"Great, you can pay back some more of what you owe me," I say, not unkindly.

"WHAT??? Oh, don't go there okay? I've done SO much for you..."

"No you have not. I haven't asked you to do a single thing for me this week, after you told me I give you too much to do."

Silence. "Oh, so that's why? You just don't want me to have a sook (pitch a fit, sulk... you get the idea) so you don't ask me?!"

"Uh, yeah that's pretty much it."

"Fine! Bye!" Phone line goes dead...

And yet she still wants, nay expects, me to drive her to and from work. I know this is typical teen drama, especially from the Original Drama Princess (the Toddler wins the title of Drama Queen), but I've been unable to let it roll off me these last couple of weeks. I'm seriously annoyed by her behaviour.

So if anyone wants a Drama Teen to come and be their companion, you know where to come. Anyone? Hell-ooooooo? Anyone out there?

* oh for God's sake don't go calling Child Services on me or anything like that - this is satire! Look that up if you're unsure of what it means.

Saturday Skinfest

Hey look, it's still Saturday! And I'm actually posting the Skinfest! Will miracles never cease?

Sorry to report that we have no more nekkid calendar pics for you. I'll keep my eye out for any new calendars while I'm out Christmas shopping. Feel free to trawl through the archives over the last 6 weeks to relive those drool worthy moments and nominate your favourite "month".

It's been a hot and sticky day today, and I was wishing I was at the beach. But since I'm afraid of being mistaken for a beached whale and dragged back to the sea by kind hearted rescuers with wetsuits and buckets, I won't be going for a little bit yet. But that doesn't stop this weeks featured players. Brad Thorn, the big crowd-lovin' front rower, likes him a bit of surf. Towel anyone?

I love me the front rowers, so we're going to continue the theme with fellow Broncos big man Petro Civoniceva (or as Miss WTF likes to call him "Seventy-cents-a-litre"). Good golly Miss Molly I like them pecs:

Now Harmonica Man, I'm very sorry I cannot find a topless cheergirl in the surf to continue this theme. I tried, really, but somehow they consider those types of photos "porn" - something about exposed mammary glands or something. But I did find these Cronulla Sharks girls getting down and funky and really into shaking their pom-poms:

Right, must go collect the Teen from work now. More skin next week!

Guilt Trip

When they were passing out guilt at whatever place it is you go to collect character traits, I must've gone back for seconds... and thirds... and possibly fourths. Perhaps I misread the sign as saying "Free Chocolate", or maybe they made guilt taste like chocolate. While I'm not unique as a mother in feeling guilt, I think I'm particularly good at it.

Late last week, I received a notice from one of the rewards programs I'm enrolled it telling me how many points I had along with a catalogue for various things I could spend them on. 99.9% of the stuff is either crap that I don't want or need, or things that need so many points there's no way I would ever earn that many. But on the back was a list of gift cards that I had more than enough points for. A jewellery store, a book shop, an upmarket department store... I could get myself something nice.

And then Guilt stepped in. "Mooselet, what are you doing?"

"What are you talking about? I'm looking."

"You're looking for yourself. Can't you see there are also gift cards for the toy store? The cinema? Even the home improvement store. Christmas is coming, you know. You could get the kids something, or even your husband. You have enough points for all of them."

"Yeah, I could. But my birthday is coming up and..."

"You leave your birthday out of this. Let someone else get you a birthday present. You shouldn't be buying presents for yourself - it's selfish. Especially with Christmas right around the corner. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one."

"Who are you, Mr. Spock?"

"What was that?"

"Nothing. It's just that I rarely do anything nice for myself and I thought that maybe this once..."

"What decent mother does things for herself when she could be doing something nice for her kids or husband? Really now. For heaven's sake, it's Christmas. You know I'm right."

And like a whipped puppy, I gave in. I completely talked myself out of it. I can't fit into anything from the upmarket department store now anyway. Who has time to read all those books you'd like to get - I can barely keep up with the one read a month for my bookclub. As for the jewellery store, well where would I wear something nice anyway? I'm going to have an infant attached to my chest for the next 6-12 months and a pendant would only be subject to pulling and tugging and breaking. And it's something I can get the kids without having to pay for it! Who wouldn't want to do that at Christmas time?

Guilt had me beaten and hogtied in less than 3 minutes flat.

It's not only this. I can feel guilty over just about anything, without even trying all that hard. I feel guilty over being annoyed by Teen and her teen angst. I feel guilty that I haven't taken apart the Tween's other bed yet. I feel guilty that at the end of a typical 13 hour day with the Toddler I just want her to go to bed and not want me anymore. I feel guilty that I encourage the Toddler to want Daddy as soon as he walks in the door after his own 12 hour day. There are days that I could drown in guilt if I wanted to, but then I'd feel guilty.

Why do parents, especially mothers, do this to themselves? Why is it so hard to put our own needs first now and again? Is it the way we were raised? Is it inherent in our DNA? Is it some kind of hormone the placenta pumps out, to stay with us always?

Don't try and talk me out of it, by the way (I'm looking at you Momma Mooselet). I'm trying to find the explanation as to why guilt wins the day, not a rationalization as to why I should spend the points on myself. It's not going to happen, not this time. I am Guilt's bitch, and most of you fellow parents are, too... if it'll let you admit it.

Picture Potpourri

How embarrassing was this? I was getting dressed this morning, preparing to take the Tween to school. Since it's been raining (Yippee! Not nearly enough, but every little bit counts) and I'm going to be in and out of the house taking out garbage and recycling, checking the Baracuda to see why it's stopped working AGAIN I don't want to wear my thongs. All that mud on my toes is gross. So I collected my sneakers from the front hall.

Here's the problem. I can't get them on. I cannot physically reach my feet nor contort my body enough to get my feet into my shoes. I had to call the Tween into the room to help me put on and tie my shoes. And he laughed at me. Sure he did it, but he laughed at me. And then told me he'd use that as part of his ongoing homework assignment to be more helpful around the house. Which meant at the very least his teacher was going to read it, if not all of his mates as he tells them he had to put on his mother's shoes.

Yeah, just a little embarrassing.

How large am I? Miss WTF snapped this photo of myself (on the left) and fellow pregnant footy mum Anissa a week and a half ago at the boy's club Presentation Day. Please note that Anissa is actually a week further along than I am:


I actually have maternity clothes that don't fit anymore. I feel like a whale... a whale that has swallowed a Mexican jumping bean. And my knees are fat. Only 4 weeks to go!

In other photo news, we have this breaking scoop courtesy of Jennine over at My Ovaries Made Me Do It. I've been wondering why Harmonica Man, of View From the Cloud, has been whingeing lately about my NRL Cheergirls pics. Seems he's been trying to divert attention from the fact that it was not Brent Webb who actually posed as Mr. August, but a certain blogger from Minnesota:


Wow, Mrs. Harmonica Man is very lucky indeed. Who would've guessed? And mate, you still need a trim. If you're mad, just remember that Jennine's ovaries made me do it! Honest!

And in case any of you are dismayed by the recent US election results, you can always do what this intrepid gentleman suggests:


Although I can't guarantee our pollies are any better than the ones you leave behind!

Election Time

Unless you're living under a rock you'd know it's time for the US elections. Actually, a lot of Americans appear to live under those rocks given the poor voter turn out anticipated in mid-term elections. There is something to be said for Australia's compulsory voting laws - the only Western country to do so.

Full disclosure here - I am not voting in these elections. But this is only because I'm not eligible to. Technically, I don't have a state to vote in since we obtained permanent residency here. I do, however, vote in federal elections. So I don't understand the American apathy towards it. This is despite living with a man who has never voted in his entire adult life and who will only vote in 2008 to merely vote against Hilary Clinton if she wins the Democratic nomination. My brother Gabe for many years refused to vote based on the George Carlin principle - since he didn't vote for whoever was screwing things up he was the only one who could legitimately complain. Despite many discussions with these two otherwise intelligent and mostly rational men, I still don't get it. Feel free to try and help me in the comments section.

There is one thing I do miss about American elections, though. The timing. We all know, or should know, when it's going to happen. The first Tuesday in November. I find it frustrating in Australia that no one knows when except the party in control. Sure we all have an idea as the end of their term (I'm pretty sure it's 3 years) approaches, but not exactly. And when they do call the election, voting is on a Saturday!! I hate that. Weekends are my time, and since it's compulsory that I vote (citizenship forthcoming) that means I give up my leisure time. It's something I still haven't gotten my head around.

I won't go on and on and get all political on you. I just want to urge my fellow Americans to spend 10 minutes exercising your right to vote - something that over 2,800 servicemen and women have very recently died for bringing to a country that has a better voter turn out than the US, despite the very real danger of being killed while doing it.

Let's not end on such a serious note. Here are a couple of quizzes to show you just where I stand in my political leanings:

You Are 12% Republican

If you have anything in common with the Republican party, it's by sheer chance. You're a staunch liberal, and nothing is going to change that!

How Republican Are You?

You Are 24% Democrat

You're a bit Democrat, and probably more liberal than you realize. If you're still voting Republican, maybe it's time that you stop.

How Democrat Are You?

Which leaves me 64% unaligned with anyone! That may explain why I'm registered as Independent, even if I'm twice as liberal as I am conservative.

My name is Mooselet and I approve this message.

Sunday Skinfest

Yeah, that's right. I gave in this weekend. I won't pretend I'm doing this on Saturday or use the time zone excuse (even though I have one more hour to play with given our lack of daylight savings time). I had a rough night Friday, with my bulk and a mosquito in the bedroom combining to send me to the couch in the vain hope of getting some sleep. So I was dead on my feet yesterday after I did some more Christmas shopping. I was also cranky and in no mood to post. So there.

But after sleeping like the dead last night and then grabbing an extra hour after the Hermit got up to take over Toddler duties, I feel better and more in the mood, as it were.

Now you may have thought that, since we presented Mr. November and Mr. December last week, we were all done with our calendar madness. Not so! It seems it's a 14 month calendar, so we still have 2 more to share. Hooray!

Let's begin with Mr. January, the hirsute Bronco Justin Hodges. He's going for a sexy look here, I can tell, but I don't think he's quite got it. Maybe the water is too cold:


Finally, we finish with Mr. February, Michael Witt. I'm drawn to his massive biceps and shoulders, which is good because Mike? That hair? Gots to go, my lovely man. Since you're already in the shower, I'll wash it for you:


Normally when I go looking for a nice cheergirl picture for you men, I try to find one who's at least got a pretty face to go with all that silicone and starvation diet body. But this one today... well, at least the photographer was honest enough to admit that when push comes to shove the face is not as important as certain other, ah, attributes:


Right, more skin next week!

Meant to Be

If you've seen our new letterbox, or our painted milk can, or have known the Hermit for any amount of time, you may have noticed he has a thing for cows. When we bought our house in the US, he was excited because the property at the top of the street had a cow grazing in the yard. He delights in pointing out fields of cows to the Toddler when we drive. He loved Rockhampton, the cattle capital of Australia, and their anatomically correct fiberglass cows scattered about town (must tell you all about that sometime).

Then I saw this story today, and had to share it with you. It's a sign! A blessing! Karma. Meant to be.


See, we can all get along!

Technorati Tag: Cow/Moose Love

Sunrise

Did you know that Queensland is the only state in Australia that does not have, or isn't trailing, daylight savings time? (Yes, I know the NT doesn't, but you're not a state and proud of it.) Did you also know that one reason our illustrious state Premier Peter Beattie opposes DST is due to the fact that the "extra" hour of daylight will all give us skin cancer thereby driving the cost of our overburdened health care up? When this "fact" was disputed by the Queensland Cancer Fund, Premier Pete basically told them they didn't know what they were talking about and to stay out of the political debate. I'm not making any of this up. Welcome to Queensland, the place where only 2 referendums have ever been passed in over 105 years.

Why am I bringing this up now? Do you see what time I'm posting at? I've been up for nearly an hour and a half, and not of my own volition. The Toddler is up with the sun, which currently is at 5 am. And it's only November 1st. By mid December the sun is in it's full blazing glory at 4:30 am. The birds start in around 4 am. And when I say up, I don't just mean she's physically awake. I mean up and raring to go, full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes. Whichever family member passed on this gene, I'm cutting you out of my will.

I am going to send the Toddler over to Pete's place for a week. I figure by the time that week is done, we'll have daylight savings quicker than you can say "What time is it?"

Now someone pass me the caffeine IV please...

Technorati Tag: Queensland Daylight Savings