Those were the days my friend

I think my father sent me these clippings to show me how he has changed over the years, or perhaps it was to highlight how he's stayed the same. Dad, not much has changed except now runners don't have to be amatuers anymore! I guess that's not nearly as entertaining for friends of runners who decided to run across town to a dinner party as this could be classified as 'training.' Oh and perhaps you don't have as much hair as you did in the past. As for the political comment; well we were all young once.

(pity about the origin of that one)

Alright, alright

I've been having a bit of fun. Well the only fun you really have when you've had a cold! I may have been slightly misleading regarding the arrival of Lucille Abigail grace, Lucy as she is affectionately referred to is not a human being but a puppy. My sister got really grumpy, and given there were about four separate occasions she decided to stop speaking to me last year, and assuming there will be similar decisions made by her this semester, I thought it best to clear the air and provide you with some photos and clarification on the puppy, who was actually named Lucille Abigail Grace the 5th. I had a play with her last week. She is hysterical. Dad is still pretending that he doesn't like her, he doesn't like dogs, he doesn't like animals and he doesn't like much in general unless it's from the west coast of the country but he is strategically organising to look after the puppy and was over heard commenting "don't look at me like that, that's just how boof (our old Newfoundland) looked at me," "oh i think it might me hungry," "well i guess we will look after when Sarah and Rob go away, when are they going away, this weekend? well we should be looking after it. What? They are taking it to the beach, that wouldn't be good for Lucy I think I should be looking after her." So basically he's doing the usual playing tough but he's a real softy and even takes the dog for coffee at Marios!

Christmas: come and gone

While Christmas comes but once a year winter and summer occur frequently throughout december.

If I must

As noted I am short on material. This is not attributed to an actual lack of existing material, rather a self imposed restriction on reading, partaking in enjoyable past-times thus severely curtailing access to potential material.

As suggested, in the previous post , any material thought suitable would be appreciated. Accordingly, my dear Dad decided he would sent me an article, because I am interested in cricket. Not, particularly. For him, I will make an exception. (I imagine my Mother would be furious to find out my Father actually did this within hours of reading my blog. She can nag, and nag and nag at him for weeks, actually months, oh and in some cases years to do some things. Guess we are both lucky she is too busy to read equivocally emma.)

Moreover, I would think my Father would be aware that I find Shane Warne a disgraceful example of what an Australian, a cricket player, a Melbournian, and basically a human being should be. Perhaps not. I could superficially point to his white zinc, peroxided hair, sporty car or attempts at harassing numerous friends of mine with inappropriate comments (not text messages this time, but that was before everyone had mobile phones.) However, his actions and attitudes gives me sufficient material, that I don't need to appear superficial, as such. He takes diuretics. When caught out, he suggests that his mother gave them to him to assist with weight loss. Interesting to research what drugs the diuretic, found in his system, effectively masks. Shane obviously isn't terribly intelligent, but c'mon. There is his involvement with QUIT, obviously not terribly effective. Then, there is his problem with mobile phones. I'll leave it at that. Thus, I am hoping that my Father notified me of this article because:
"Peter Roebuck is a fine cricket journalist, poetic and appreciative of very good cricket. Post it for your Canadian friends, they will be confused and the English ones that came out to the wedding, Patrick in particular. Then again theses things tend to come back and bite you.....humble in victory,gracious in defeat. Sounds English to me."

Obviously, when reading, keep this in mind. Poor Dad, Canadians probably don't care too much about cricket; it's ice-hockey, baseball or American football. Confuse them? Well, many are still perplexed with the side of the road we drive on, that the water goes the opposite way down the plug hole in the southern hemisphere, Australian fashion and then there is the 'Australian' language . By the way my name is Emma not Amma. No, I am not English, I am Australian and many Australians have similar accents, we are not all occas, who have some bizzare way of pronouncing the number 13.) Confused, hence, may not be the right adjective here.

Regarding the reference to the English guests at Meg's wedding, and Patrick, I have to actually read the article to determine whether it's my Father rambling, or other.

Article

Goings on

• It is raining today. I think it has been raining since last night. Can't complain, we do need rain. I am sitting at a computer in the library (I still have not resolved the dilemma that was my laptop blowing up.) It is still raining outside. I thought it might stop after a sentence or two. I wonder if it will flood? I have a lot of work to do.
• Tonight I am taking my brother out for a birthday dinner. His 21st birthday, no less. I was planning to cook him a celebratory dinner on his actual birthday - the 8th of November - but a few things have come up. I think he may come down to the coast the night before his birthday, so I can wish him happy birthday on the actual morning. I think he just wants to over-capitalise on birthday celebrations.
• Car Batteries and I do not get on.
• This is not good news: http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2006/11/03/1162340055442.html. To think people think global warming is not a problem.
• Mark Lucenti listens to Kelly Clarkson. His justification for this is that he 'has diverse music tastes.' Unlikely.
• This week I discovered, well actually was made to look rather foolish, that an English bull-dog is not just a breed of dog but in fact is associated with human boxing. I came across this information when I suggested to someone that rather dressing as an English bulldog for Halloween, they dressed as an American Bulldog. I think I provided a few individuals with a few moments of amusement.
• There are a lot of birthdays coming up. Not as hectic as September, but not far off. There is James , Canadian Belinda, Lizzie Andrews (from kindergarten and school - after 15 years of education together how could one forget) is the 4th, and Gordon Prisco who spring to mind.
• I want to read Jones Town. The hard copy was retailing for $49.95. I needed a new pair of shoes for Pete's wedding. We all have to make sacrifices. If anyone has bought it and read it and is willing to lend it to me. Please let me know. In the mean time I'll continue my expose into Mao's life. Oh, I found some exerts provided by the publishers. These can be accessed here.
• My Dad sent me the links for these newspaper articles, 'Songbird Swift takes flight,' and 'Greenies 'hijackers' Charged.' Dad, regarding the last article; why are you sending me propaganda? We have observed the devastation (first hand) that logging is doing to Victoria and its water catchment areas. The headline sets up the tone of the article (I learnt how to determine this in Year 10.) I read it, only to reassure myself that people in this country are often ill-informed and quick to jump on populist bandwagons.
• This information disgusts me.
• I am not happy about the sale of this house to anybody, but myself. Pity. I'm spending more money than I am earning, and I probably owe the Australian Government more money than I will ever earn.
• Typical: the rich are getting richer and the poor......
• Hysterical. My horoscope for today: "Victorian Virgos would be well advised to lock their doors this weekend to avoid the plague of devil politicians stalking their neighbourhoods on the lookout for souls. Or is that votes? Same difference. Poke your head out at your peril." That's courtesy of the Weekend Australian Magazine.

Introducing Peter and Eliza Whalley

I've been busy.

This weekend the Anderson Family (minus the two dogs who were 'holidaying' at the kennels), and the additions - Rob Wallis and Sarah Martin -headed off to Marysville (20 mins into the black spur forest from the hideout (at Healseville.) They bombarded this small country town (pop. 797), along with approximately 120 of Pete and Eliza's closest friends and family.

Marysville was rocking; two weddings in the space of four hours in the lovely little church, snow at lake mountain and a very, very cold wind. Numerous transactions at the lolly shop were accompanied by Darryl Hull on the piano, and Jaime Whalley in his new six seater plane.

Really, the highlight of the weekend was the reason all these people had booked every b&b, hotel, pub, and other avaliable accommodation in the town out: the marriage of Pete and Eliza. The bride and groom are pictured above. Then it's the Andersons and Pete in the middle. A de-brief to follow this post....just thought I should let you all know that I am still around and I have been on an adventure!

The 21st on the 21st - The Baby Brother

21 years ago around this time of year my Mother was feeling very large. I was probably anxious because my Mum was going to Hospital and I would be stuck with Dad doing my hair. She'd already had a few months in hospital as the kid was causing her problems. I didn't find this fun, I think my locks in the school photo from that year are refelctive of his inability to master the art of the compulsory up do (for students who had hair that sat below the collar.) There was a precise way Mum did it. The ponytail was not too high, not too low and there were no bumps. Dad was probably worried that I had said, if Mum had a baby boy we should throw it in the river, because we only wanted girls.

On the 8th of November, after finishing school for the day (approximately 6ish if my memory is correct) Gran, Grandpa, Sarah and I excitedly jumped in the little red car and made a mad dash for the hospital to see Mr James Leonard Donald Anderson a recently arrival. We stopped off at the Freemasons Hospital to pick up a gift for the new born. I chose a small grey elephant and my sister selected a blue hippo. Once at the hospital, I don't know if we were terribly impressed (see here.)

Obviously I changed my mind about putting the baby in the river. The story goes that bringing James home from hospital (who I had decided should be called Jesus, not James) Mum pulled over at the Yarra River. My response was "Mummy why are we stopping here." Mum: "Well you said if the baby was a boy you wanted to put him in the river, so here you go: put him in the river." A now horrified Emma, "Oh no, I think we'll keep him for a bit and see how he goes." Not sure about the numerous religious references (I think I had started going to Sunday School with the boys up the road.)

We have kept the Kid for nearly 21 years. He would be too big to put in the river now, given Melbourne's water shortage. The posts below are some photos taken on the evening of his 21st Birthday at the Basement Apartment, on the 21st of October 2006.

The 21st on the 21st - again

The 21st on the 21st - some of his Girls

Melbourne bound

From the north to the south. Or, from the top to the bottom. Gold Coast to Queensland. You've got to love great architecture and appreciate it. My Father sent me the following text message upon arrival: "Welcome to the sanity of the southern states. Enjoy being a Mexican." Completely illogical and irrational, but then that's my Dad.

Stay tuned for 'the Anderson - Let's Organise James's Party Meeting' with Sarah the Dictator, Rob the Dictator's assistant/personal comedian, and all round funny man with a Plazma screen, the spit needs eight hours. Also staring -Belinda - the i've finally met someone that goes a million miles an hour like me, good lord i created it, the baskets in there Rob, go jump in it, no i don't actually know how many are coming...rob can you ask your brother I hear he is the social secretary. Oh and Emma mm, yep sounds alright...(my family have lost the plot) so that possum's my date to the party. Then there's Victor I'll just avoid the entire meeting, chaos has a new definition and James I'll turn up on the day and hold my breath, while drinking beer and eating cow with a pole up it's bum.