Today the following things occurred:

I did a presentation.  The computer and the projector did not communicate.  So that was fun.

I did a presentation.  For free.  From the goodness of my heart.  And I got trolled, IRL, by a dude from Deliverance (Or possibly regional Queensland.  Same-same.  Apologies to regional Queensland readers, but if you are reading this, I am not referring to you, because: computers and READING.)  So that was “fun”.  I might tell you about it someday.

I did a presentation.  AT 8am ON A SUNDAY.  If this doesn’t put me closer to someone’s god, then I give up.

Then:

I sat in as the support person, with Coco as the patient, for four hours whilst would-be paediatricians poked and prodded her, trying to figure out what the hell this rare and usual thing she has, is.  Hint: read my blog MoFos.  This is our fifth time in the hot seat.  I can’t wait for the day when I have a book called ‘One in Four’ on the best-seller list, and they can just waltz in, recognise us from the INTERWEBZ  and stop saying weird-ass shit like; “I think she her liver measures within normal limits” or “her bruising is pathological” (she just learnt to ride a two-wheeler bike MoFos) or “her dentition is normal”.*

And lastly: I have just found out that Elementary is not on tonight.  I do not know what sorcery has created this travesty, but I fear I shall be forced to go and watch that 50 Shades of Shit trailer…again.

Oh no, Sweet Baby Cheeses, I just switched over to some crap channel and I saw precocious children singing duets.  Synapses: seared.

But, because the world can only exist when there is a balance of negative and positive (Is this true?  Or an AlisonFact?**) these things also happened:

NAPOLEON DYNAMITE IS ON THE TELLY RIGHT NOW.  Forget Pretty In Pink or St Elmo’s Boring, this is the movie of EVERY generation.  (Also: I love you Channel 11.)

Also:

Flowers. Sooooo glad they are Gerbys. They might be SO 1995, but THEYDON’TSTINK

I found this cashola in a secret spot in my handbag whilst looking for a lippy. 4 pineapples and a slice of lettuce? Yes thank you.

Dunno what it is, but I’ll say YES (x4). So I might be a bit wobbly whilst writing this post. Hence, all of the boldz.

Also: The Silverback has done the food shopping for the week, AND is now doing the ironing, whilst I swill away. Schwiiiinggg!

So there you go: It’s a Sunday Night Shutdown here at The Asher’s Joint.  (Thanks for the advice Mrs Woogie).  The Evil Geniuses were allowed to stay up 47 minutes past curfew,  til 7.30pm, with a pinky swear that they would not emerge from their bedrooms until 6.30am or later.  So we shall see.  Could be a sweet deal.

Hope your weekend was a ripper, and deserving of a true Sundyniteshutdown.

Over and out.

*Sorry if you are one of those docs.  I know you were nervous.  But: normal dentition???  She has seven good teeth.

**Alison means “Little Truthful One”, so QED

….From The Ashers xxx

“We don’t share personal stuff with strangers,”  said George Clooney’s character in some movie I’m watching late at night, because: George Clooney.  I’m not particularly interested in this crap, but: George Clooney.

I nearly jumped off the couch.  Who ever heard of not sharing with strangers?  Aren’t strangers the best people to share with?  Because most of you lot don’t really know me, so I can be however I want.  I can tell you how I am, rather than show you with my actions.  I can be the best me on here, and with no real effort.  You gotta love that.

You didn’t even know the Country Road ladies said I needed Spanx until I told you.  And I don’t have to show you my flabby bum in my selfies- there’s a cropping function on iPhoto.  You don’t know I yelled at my kid this morning for acting like a brat, or that I snuck a late night snack into the other kid tonight after he’d already cleaned his teeth.  You don’t have to know that I know all the words to “The Black Widow” and sing and narrate it like I’m on X-Factor when I’m in the car.  You don’t know I tell the television off when nonsense ads for Dettol or Nurofen are on.  You don’t know that I wear my dressing-gown as clothing when I’m at home in the winter, or that I have saved every letter that I’ve ever been written.

It seems that Ben Elton wasn’t far off the mark in his Orwellian “Blind Faith”, so I suspect it won’t be long until the people without the blogs are the weird ones.  The ones not to be trusted, even though behind the screen we can be whoever we want to be.  We can show any kind of shiny self we like.

What a strange world it is, don’t you think?

…From The Ashers xx

I did a talk this weekend at a seminar.. I won’t bore you with the whole thing, but here is the last bit.  As you RRs will know, there’s been a bit of Sex Ed going on around at The Asher’s lately, so I used quotes from “Where Did I Come From?” to punctuate my talk like an English essay.  I also handed out tiny mirrors at the start, so you’ll have to improv.

Here goes:

So far the master heart is this one:

My friend Rose got it for me, and it’s carved from sandstone by kids in Africa who were previously sent down into the mines.  So maybe, buying these rocks saves lives. Or makes lives better.

Either way, it has become a bit of a touchstone in the office.  Every child wants to touch it, and hold it, and we say that if we wish for our heart’s true desire when we hold it, our wish will come true.  Eventually.

It’s fun to hear what the children wish for.  I remember their wishes, and I love seeing how those wishes change over time.  Some kids keep at the same wish until they get it, and some, of course, chop and change all over the place.  I’m interested to see how that will play out, in the adults they become.

If there wasn’t so many of you here I’d love to pass my wishing heart around the room.  To let each of you hold it for a moment, and say out loud your secret wish.  The thing that you would have, or do, or be, if you could remove the limits of your mind.

Do you know what your heart’s true desire is?

Does your heart softly whisper something to you in the middle of the night?

Can you see something, just over there, at the edge of your peripheral vision that you’d really love to do?

Is it possible to let that little thing grow a little, gather some momentum, and maybe even become a thing?

Could you tell me what it is?

Or could you tell my heart?  Because if we spoke together, your heart and mine, I think they could make it happen.

“Where Did I Come From?” can have the last words. Pick up your little mirror and look at those eyes.

“You may think it sounds like a lot of hard work, for such a little person.  But there’s a very good reason why we should go through it all, this Journey.  And if you want to know what that reason is, just take a look in the mirror.

It is all for you.”

So what happened next?  This:

The easy way out

I made them sit on the couch and read it together.  They managed to read it all without carrying on too much, even the creepy bits.

I sat next to them in case of hyperventilation or freak outs.  Nath busied himself with lots of throat clearing and footy cheering.  I told him to “shut up, this is important.”  He was silent after that, possibly in case he would be recruited to say the word vagina or something.

At the end of the book I said, “Any questions, comments or concerns?”   And there were none.  So there you have it, birds and the bees sorted.

I had another two volumes ready: What’s Happening To Me?  (A pink one for the ladies and a blue one for the gents, FFS)

Liam read it as his bedtime story, and in the morning he said it was “Not bad, but there was nothing about pimples.  I wanted to read about pimples, and maybe see some pimples, I can’t wait until I get pimples.”  So it seems like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Coco read a chapter and pronounced it “Bore-ring” and went back to Go Girl.  So apparently it’s more interesting to read about a kid getting hit in the face by a netball.

Here endeth the education.

Have you had “the talk” yet?

…From The Ashers xx

Ever had one of those days when you really just need to be at home, to re-group, relax and just be with your people?  The kids and I had a family conference at 8am this morning and decided this was just what the (pretend) doctor (me) ordered, and agreed we would have a jammie day.

Here is what it looked like:

Morning sun..

Some DIY Pokemon for the Evil Geniuses

Whilst I found this spot in the sun..

We were suitably attired

Evil Genius One said, “Let’s go old school”, so we chose our fave controllers. Game on kids. No prizes for guessing which one is mine.

There was a bit of this..

Eventually we did go to the park for a bit. Just so we weren’t total sloths

We came home to ‘bake’ some of these babies. Thanks Bee Keeper Fred for the delish local honey.

Until finally it was time for these two to come out: Bob and Kitty, ready for bed.

Good evening and good night

Thanks Jammie day.

…From The Ashers xx

PS Not a sponsored post, but hit me up if you want some of Fred’s free range honey. It’s yum.

Have you ever been paralysed into inaction?

I have something to do that is so scary, so foreign to me and so heinous that I am completely mentally paralysed.

It is a public speaking thingy.

It may surprise you to hear that, even though I’m a compulsive over-sharer, and clearly a narcissist, when it comes to speaking in a public forum, I dissolve.  This forum is some annoying thing I agreed to do months ago, which I have thought about preparing for every single day since.  I have thought about doing it as many times as I have thought about exercising and doing my BAS.  Which is a lot.  (Thinking about doing them that is, not actually doing them.  The actual amount I have done them is precisely one time per quarter).

And now it is upon me. Only two Saturdays away.  So today I sat down in front of this very same computer, staring, at a blank Pages document for about half an hour.

I could not think of one single thing to write.

And now I have found that the inaction has spread like a man-made virus, and I can’t think of anything to blog about either.  This has happened  before, but rarely.  And usually just because I’m too tired after a big day at work.  This is different.

So instead of trying to do something proactive or productive to remedy the situation and mount a response to the virus, I have flattened my phone battery flicking between FB, Twitter and Insta, and now I am going to bed to read a novel.  Not a useful inspirational book that might help me get on topic, no, this will be a book bout a psycho killer in an imaginary world.  So clearly something that can’t wait

I will read until I am so tired hat my brain will flip the switch and allow me to sleep, to cease thinking about this thing that must be done, and, as we speak is spreading to other areas of my life.

All I hope is that by morning I will have forgotten how to make breakfast, lunch and dinner for my lot.*

*Some will suggest you can’t forget something you never knew how to do in the first place.  Those people are mean and rude and won’t be getting any brekky.   Among other things.

Have you ever been paralysed like this?

Got any speech ideas for me?  Anyone wanna write my speech?

…From The Ashers xx