You can't stop the pumpkin

Notice its not-so-subtle method of escape:

Rocky start (heh)

Wiz and Tuppence haven't been particularly friendly to Rocky since he arrived. To add to the exclusion, he hasn't earned his fringe yet, it seems.
There's nothing worse than not having the right uniform at a new school...

This kind of sums it up:

Mind you, it's given Tuppence a new sense of confidence (no longer bottom of the pile!) and here she is, pushing forward for the first time:

She still nearly takes a finger whenever you feed her though.

Simple mistake or desperate measure?

HVB (Hunter Valley Brewery) was a trashy nightclub/dickhead magnet just five minutes' walk from our place. Mercifully, it shut down a while ago.

Of course, a mutant cousin simply emerged to replace it: The Valley.

I can tell it's striving to be a little classier (I use the word judiciously) but I did notice this perplexing excess of vowels as I toted my Yummy Noodles home the other day:

Is the extra 'e' suggestive of something beyond a nationwide spelling crisis? Are they struggling for business to the extent that they thought this little tweak might somehow help, at least subliminally, as if the sign itself were spruiking for patronage?

I do wonder. Honest. I have a lot of spare time (or not much at all, depending on my mood).

Oh dear

Australia isn't doing well in the cricket.
The future of Ricky Ponting, the captain, is looking shaky.

Personally, I loathe cricket and its parade of peroxided wankers.

As for Ponting, I've been driving Mick (a cricket fan, of course) up the wall by continually pointing out his resemblance to George W. Bush:

It's the reason why he can't frickin' bat – his eyes are too close together.
Why no-one has noticed this before is beyond me.

Think of the beautiful people!

This letter in the current issue of Sydney Star Observer (which I used to write for) really moved me:

OBJECTIFIED

Why is it many believe it’s fair game to criticise and objectify the muscular and athletic men and women of the GLTBI community?

Over the years I have heard nearly everything to put down and denigrate, and seen a lot of physical violence and unwanted attention toward those who choose to develop and maintain their bodies in peak form.

It’s time people stopped and thought about their actions when they criticise, bully and harass.  These are real people with emotions and feelings. Yes, some are arrogant, yet there are many  who are decent, have integrity and are respectful. Just because they choose to maintain their body in a form they want to does not mean anyone has the right to treat them any differently, nor does it give anyone permission to treat them like a piece of meat for their own lustful gratification.

Yes it’s human nature to look and admire, and many who keep fit appreciate the attentionyet there are boundaries which need to be kept and respect to be shown.  If you see signs of discomfort and irritability due to your attention be respectful and move on. I’m far from being physically fit and I’m definitely no Ben Cousins. Yet I have friends who are fit and hot and these friendships have developed through being respectful.

So instead of having a good bitch or throwing yourself at a person you deem to be ‘perfect’ say hello, show respect and keep within appropriate boundaries and you may be pleasantly surprised.

— Ashley

Oh honey, I can relate.
I, too, struggle with the burden of being ridiculously hot on a daily basis. All the jealous glares, the constant arse-grabbing …
It's exhausting.

These cheekbones weigh heavily, I tell you.

Seriously, though, I'm not sure if this letter is a brilliant piss-take or not.
Somehow, sadly, I don't think it is. Another reason why I don't miss gay Sydney.

Cancelled

I aborted the surgery.
We got to the hospital and I became increasingly uncomfortable with the situation; it all felt rushed.
They wanted me to sign a consent form that was basically a shopping list of procedures. Just in case, I presume.

Anyway, feeling relieved. I'm going to get a PET scan (another thing not scheduled that I should really have first) and then who knows.

Blech.

On a brighter note, pumpkin progress.

It's already swallowed the grevillea and is eyeing the frangipani:

Creature comfort

I'm dreading tomorrow and that bloody hospital.
I really hope the resident harpy is already on holidays. The reason I'm having surgery so quickly is because the surgeons are going on Christmas break.
They're Jewish.

Speaking of which, I cannot fathom the reasoning behind draping every surface of a place where people are sick and/or dying with tinsel. Do they seriously think they're cheering anyone up?
If there's a little plastic Santa ho-ho-hoing anywhere in my vicinity (as there was the last time I was at the John Hunter) I may cause a scene.

Fortunately, the animals at home have been out in force to divert me.

First, we discovered another blue-tongue lizard, happily tucked away in an empty flowerpot:

And I'm proud to share that the magpie offspring have grown up quite a bit. They now comprehend how to find their own food, although they're still struggling with the concept of sharing.

Case in point, the keeper of the drumstick:

Most excitingly, we have a handsome new neighbour who arrived today.

Meet Rocky (on the right):

Things seem a little tense, but nothing several apples can't fix.

Life and death in The Bend

Yet another gruesome encounter in the backyard:

I managed to scare the spider away through sheer intrusiveness, but I sensed the situation was hopeless:

Speaking of which, my cancer's returned, this time on my chin, right where the last surgery happened.

I have to be at the ominous Interventional Suite at John Hunter Hospital first thing Monday.
They may or may not do a graft. How on earth they could make do with what little I have left of my lower face is beyond me.

I'm just looking forward to the Panadeine Forte.
And thanking god I have Mick.

Lessons in camouflage

Don't get me wrong, I think stick insects are adorable.
This one just didn't have the best sense of location:

To be fair, Mick had to draw my attention to him, but upon closer inspection he was clearly barking up the wrong tree, so to speak:

Shiz happens

Disillusionment in minor celebrities is a common but unspoken travail of modern society.
There was a brief period, for instance, when I thought Liz Hurley was a glamorous, savvy woman.
Indeed, she parlayed wearing a Versace dress into a lucrative modelling career and then married a billionaire.
Ta dah!

Now I read she's thrown it all away for ex-cricketer Shane Warne:

Warnie, of all people.
That teeth-whitened, tangerine, peroxide-plugged buffoon, the only man to rival Paul Hogan in terms of questionable international Aussie identity.

Another tomorrow

Sunset, December 10:

Test of will

I'm not usually too squeamish, but I refused to kill this monster cockroach wedged in the front-door flyscreen:

Mick dutifully did it in but it's still there.

He now calls it Colin.

Pumpkinwatch 1

And so it grows:

Caterpillar season

Destructive, spitty, ouchy:

Pretty!

Horseshoe Bend peak hour

Bella Street:

Garden envy

I spotted this in the garden of the Maitland Regional Art Gallery.
I've never seen an artichoke plant before, let alone one that was flowering.

It's fabulous; John Wyndham meets Georgia O'Keeffe:

Orange you jealous

Just the ones that have fallen off the tree:

Moth rescue

In the spirit of Bondi Rescue, Manly Surf et al, here's a gripping account of a recent life-and-death struggle in the backyard.

At first, it was a muffled cry:

Then I saw the terror in its eyes:

After some deliberation –where does this end? Must I rescue every fricking flying bug? – I set it free.
It is, despite decimating various plants, adorable in its own way:

Mick said I was working against nature.
Not for the first time.

... and the kitchen sink

Spotted today, I sent this to Free Signs, my friend Norm's blog.

By Bend standards, it was a bonanza:

Think of the spiders

I read an alarming story about the rise in obesity among pets and even wild animals living in proximity to humans.
At the very least, the phrase "fat virus" caught my attention.

Anyway, I fear our St Andrews Cross spiders could be succumbing:

All caps headline

Finally we're growing something in the vegie patch that I plan to eat:

I realise I'm possibly cursing the capsicum plant by writing about it (RIP the passionfruit and corn) but I sense this might work...

Meet the neighbours

If it's any consolation, the eel refers to the Parramatta footy team:

Hurrah!

My internet connection returned to its uncooperative self last week but a Telstra operative finally turned up on Friday afternoon.
He was little young for my taste with unfortunate facial hair (I think he was doing Movember; I didn't want to ask) but I admit he was quite helpful, in that uninterested-and-superior way that IT geeks have mastered.

Anyway, after half an hour he re-plugged my splitter and all was well again.
I only discovered what a splitter was last week, and that I owned one. Why it suddenly needed re-jigging is still beyond me.
When I asked him he replied, "They're funny sometimes."

Whatever. Yay!
Here are the horses' latest ensembles, a little disco fringe for the party season, I fancy:

Tuppence is getting right into it:

Growing concerns

#1 The nasturtium plant; i.e. what was once a side path:

#2 The pumpkin plant, once again our future overlord:

Critters' delight

We've had enough rain for the spiders to feel like they own the joint.

Still, the webs make the yard sparkle:

And we all love a good sparkle.

Finger-lickin' frickin' huge

I must make a correction.
Earlier, I showed what I thought was the biggest KFC in the southern hemisphere.
I was wrong. That was but a shed compared to what is soon to be unleashed upon Newcastle.

Behold, the gleaming future of fast food:

Fittingly, NSW Health is just across the road:

Perhaps it rhymes with gilet

Mick and I were up the other (west) end of High Street during the week.
It's lined with lovely late-19th-century commercial buildings, including this one, my favourite:

Unfortunately I then noticed the signage:

Unlikely inspiration

I watched all of the comedy series Big Girl's Blouse on DVD during the week. Very funny, especially the proto-Kath & Kim.

But then there was this, a faux-public service clip for young ladies.
Here, a "contraceptive dress":

And Gaga, again:

Connected again

Back online – for good, I hope.
Won't bore you with the details of getting this fixed but it involved a computer technician with tattooed knuckles.

Anyway, not much has happened. We've had a lot of rain. The fish are still alive.
And the horses are happy:

Tech trouble

My internet connection keeps dropping out.
The service provider said it's either the modem or the DSL line.
In other words, no help at all.
More later when I get this sorted.

Magpie downtime

Mother is exhausted:

Critters of The Bend #8: Huntsman spider

Frightening-looking but relatively harmless.
At least 10cm across.
Just inside the front door:

Apparently doing Pilates.

Wiz & Tuppence: resort collection

Wiz and Tuppence were sporting a new look yesterday:

I must admit I've neglected them somewhat lately due to the goldfish, so I made an apple delivery.

Wiz loves his apples:

The trouble with teenagers

Since we first started feeding the magpies, the children have turned into the equivalent of spoilt-brat teenagers.

They're quite capable of flying and scavenging for themselves, but still they insist on squawking at their parents until they get mouth-fed:

When the two young ones get together, they fight.
Seriously. They lock feet and scream (what I presume are obscenities) at each other:

Given the accelerated life-cycle, they should grow out of this phase in a day or two.