Bliatus

Blog + Hiatus.

Sorry guys, just need a few days off. A bit swamped with various things.

I'll be back soon.

Muppets From Space

We've got this teed up for movie night tonight.

I'll be glad to introduce the kids to The Muppets. The Muppets are awesome.

Little e At The Nasho

Thursday Peanuts

A Little Sleep, A Little Slumber

I went past the field of the sluggard,
past the vineyard of the man who lacks judgment;
thorns had come up everywhere,
the ground was covered with weeds,
and the stone wall was in ruins.

I applied my heart to what I observed
and learned a lesson from what I saw:
A little sleep, a little slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest-
and poverty will come on you like a bandit
and scarcity like an armed man.

~Proverbs 24:30-34

Male Pattern Blindness

Disturbingly, you can just wake up one day and find that not only have you developed a serious illness, but that you are already so far gone, that it is unlikely that you'll ever be restored to your former awesomeness.

I recently came to from a stupor to realise I am in the latter stages of Male Pattern Blindness.

This is where you open the pantry cupboard to look for, say, the barbecue sauce, and though you stare long and intently, you see no sauce. In desperation you yell out 'babe, where's the barbecue sauce gone!? To which you get a frustrating reply like 'it's in the cupboard where it always is'. To which you patiently yet firmly respond, 'no, someone's stolen it. Where the heck is it, I need barbecue sauce'.

And then your carer wife arrives on the scene, and in one deft movement, simultaneously sighs, opens the cupboard, gets the barbecue sauce from it's usual position (where it has been using some form of temporary cloaking device), shoves it in your hand, and stomps back to her More Important Things To Do.

And there you are, left standing stunned, chilled at coming face to face with your own sorry state. M.P.B. It affects us all.

5 Tips On Reducing Blog Angst

Most people who have a blog go through periods of blog angst. Or what me and my scientific colleagues here at the institute have dubbed, blangst.

Why do I have to post today, I don't want to post today! Why aren't those fools commenting, that post was freakin awesome!

Here's a few tips to ease the heartache, things that have worked for me, a chronic blangst sufferer.

1. Set a pace and momentum you can keep up. Would you like to have ten posts a week? Yes? Will it be stressful to keep up? Yes? Well don't post ten. Try five instead.

2. Lower your expectations. Want a stack of readers and a stack of comments? I do too, but you can't depend on that for blog satisfaction (blatisfaction), or you'll be disappointed all the time. Be prepared to post for your own sake and enjoyment, and don't stress so much about getting a response. Hopefully the rest will then fall in to place.

3. Try to keep the majority of your blangst to yourself. Don't feel like writing today? Don't tell us you don't feel like writing, it makes us not feel like reading. Don't tell us you're bored with your blog, it makes the reader bored as well. I'm not saying don't be yourself, but just be wary of frightening everybody off unnecessarily. If you don't want to write today, just don't.

4. Jot down post ideas somewhere so you're not sitting at the computer with no ideas. I have a notes thing in my phone, and whenever I think of something, I just type in a word or two to help me remember.

5. Devise a cruise control system to take the pressure off the days you can't be bothered. For me, this is coming up with regular features that are quick, simple and limitless. A quiz. A song. A photo. A review. Silly close ups of famous eyes. These things take the pressure off the rest of the week, by setting up a framework to build on.

Book Review Wednesday by Joanna

To Kill A Mockingbird
By Harper Lee (1960)

Review by Joanna

Any old writer can create a memorably evil character, but writing about goodness in an interesting and compelling way is much, much harder. One of the many reasons I love To Kill a Mockingbird is that Harper Lee is interested in human integrity, courage and compassion as well as prejudice, violence and lies. But while the book packs an incredible moral punch, the message never gets in the way of the story.

To Kill a Mockingbird is told from the perspective of Scout Finch, a young girl living in southern America, whose father Atticus is the local lawyer. From Scout’s curious and passionate (and very funny!) perspective we learn about the characters, idiosyncrasies and divisions within her small town. When a young black man is accused of rape, Atticus fights local racism to defend the man’s right to a free and fair trial.

This book could have been a clichéd account of heroes versus villains, but all of Lee’s characters are real – flawed, inconsistent, but sometimes making hard choices to do the right thing. For those of us with stereotypical ideas about the American south, this is also a love letter to the south, tenderly describing its virtues while unflinchingly facing its vices. Somehow I got to my thirties without reading this book – if you haven’t read it yet, don’t wait any longer!

Thanks for the review, Jo! T.K.A.M. is definitely in my top 3 favourite books of all time.

Eye Know

No takers?

Okay, I'll make it easier by giving you four eyes instead of two. An onscreen couple:

If you don't get it now, I'll be pretty disillusioned with you all. No pressure though.

The Essence Of The Reformation by Kirsten Birkett

Found this book at home last night (though not this new edition pictured), and am giving it a read. It's only short, and is really easy to read. It's really interesting so far.

It's filling in the gaps I had of how early Christianity morphed into the Christianity of the Middle Ages, full of weird Catholic rituals. Fascinating.

Beach House Touring

Just heard that Beach House will be coming to Australia early in the new year.

I'm very excited. I am loving this band SO much.

Reformation Anyone?

Anybody know where I can find any good talks about Church history and the Reformation?

St. Mary

And all this time I thought I was counted as a saint because I have put my trust in Jesus.

But no, as I have never actually performed a miracle, I'm not one, and must pray to, and make an idol of some dead person rather than God.

Bummer.

Eye Know

Onscreen couple

Words You Don't Particularly Want To Be Greeted With When You Walk In The Door After Work #47

"Daddy! Little i ate poo!"

Happiness Is..

The smell of potato and leak soup bubbling away on a Saturday afternoon.

The Quiz

1. A short term goal

2. A long term goal

3. Smoothie flavour of choice

4. How frequently do you get a haircut?

5. A TV show you own on DVD

Little i

Mummy, What's A Presbyterian?

Can somebody define for me (in a nutshell) what the Presbyterian church is about?

I've only ever been in Anglican or Baptist churches, and just want to have a better idea of what the Presy church is about, and how they differ from those.

We are going to be checking out a few churches in the area, and well, I want to know what I'm working with!

The Sponge

Me and Little e made this Victoria sponge cake on Saturday from my Jamie Oliver book. I've not made many cakes before, so this was kind of an epic thing. It had a lemony sort of flavour, with this yummy strawberry goop in the middle, with cream.

It turned out alright, though I'll do a few things differently next time. Instead of 'softening' the butter, I completely liquified it in the microwave, and I think that meant it wouldn't whip up and make the sponge fluffy. So it was more like the love child between a sponge cake and a mud cake, but never mind.

Rebooted

There's nothing worse than an itch you can't quite reach. I currently have one somewhere in my inner head region, somewhere between my ear and throat holes. Gross, hey.

I just got a bit reckless and tried to get at it using one of my glasses arms, but went in a bit strong, and my brain sort of went BUZZZZZ! ZAP! K-CHOW!

You know that little hole thing on your computer, where if you stick the end of an unfolded paper clip, you can get it to restart? I think I must have hit my head's version of that. Now I am running Ben 2.0, which is more flash expensive, but annoying in that all your usual tools are slightly different and hard to find.

Just thought you'd like to know that.

Woo Hoo!

I won Simone's venn diagram comp!

It's been a long and winding journey, but I'm finally here tonight..

Woo Hoo!

Consumer Watchdog- Bar of Plenty

E bought us a block of Cadbury's new 'Bar Of Plenty' the other day.

Allow me to give you a review. I eat, so you may benefit from my findings. I'm nice that way.

Positives: I like the packaging, and the font they've used. It's got a cool retro Willy Wonka kinda vibe.

Negatives: Strange choice of ingredients. "Roast Hazelnut & Honey Roast Cashew"? Nuh, that doesn't work. The cashew is obviously the far superior nut in this duo, but with its gentle, subtle flavour, it is totally over-powered by the nowhere-near-as-nice, but strong flavoured, hazelnut. It's like Neil Young singing with Pavarotti. I spent each mouthful straining to taste any passing trace of cashew.

Also, the squares are too big. Three squares to a row doesn't work for me.

Conclusion: A new variety for the sake of new variety. Nice to look at, underwhelming to eat.

"Dad", By Little e

Eye Know

An on-screen couple

And Speaking Of Typing On Keyboards..

..How did the forward slash thing (/) get the right of way on the question mark(?) key?

The question mark is surely the superior, more frequently used symbol, and yet to be able to use it, you first have to go through 'shift'.

The ? deserves a bit more respect than he's been given. You know that I'm right on this. How many times has ? helped you out of a pickle? (See, he was just there for me right then) Yet where is ol' / when you're in a tight spot? Nowhere to be found. Lolly gagging off on some boring web address or something. Fair-weather friend.

I don't know much, but I know that Question Mark plays second fiddle to no Forward Slash.

Eye Know

?

Fallen Off The Wagon

I've succumbed a few times the past couple of weeks. A finger here and there. This morning I cracked and did three. The Shame.

The wagon is up ahead, and I'm back here in a cloud of dust. Must. Muster. Strength. To. Chase.

Speech Diary- The Extra Miles

The good thing about the long journey to get to Toastmasters now, is that I want to make it worth my while when I go.

I went on Tuesday, and volunteered for a bunch of extra speaking roles, and it was a really good night. The difference in my attitude and speech the day before the meeting and the day after was pretty massive.

One of the things I volunteered for was an impromptu seven minute speech. A pretty big deal. I told that story of my disastrous first day at a new school, and it went well.

Thursday Peanuts

Space Bar

How many times are you supposed to hit the space bar when beginning a new sentence after a full stop?

When writing essays at uni it was drummed in to me that I had to hit it twice, and the habit just stuck.

Do most people just hit it once?

Eye Know

??

Eye Know

Who's this? An easy one to start with.

On Blogging

"Never before have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few".

I love this quote that I saw on Peter's blog, it brings a smile to my face every time I read it.

Pure gold.

D'oh! A Deer

I watched The Sound Of Music the other day with the kids.

Expectation was high, as Little e has been enjoying the soundtrack for a few weeks. I hadn't seen it since I was really young, so I was also curious to see how it held up.

It holds up well. What a great movie. Julie Andrews is perfect as Maria, instantly likable. The songs and music are great, so well crafted by Rogers and Hammerstein.

I was pretty surprised at the length, though. I'd forgotten the ending, so I was expecting a 'The End' after Maria and the Captain got married. But then there was like another hour almost! Little e switched off at that point, and went somewhere to play, while I watched the VonTrapp's flee from the Nazis. And Little i had given up about an hour before that. Kids these days.

I'd forgotten the whole Nazi element, and while it added a big chunk of time to the movie, it didn't hurt it. Who doesn't like a movie with Nazis? Only crazy people and children under three.

All in all, I really liked it, and could easily watch it again.

Book Review Wednesday by Georgina

The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work
By Alain de Botton (2009)

Review by Georgina

Last year I read a review on Alain de Botton’s The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work, and, it inspired me so much that as soon as I could, I walked into a bookstore and bought the book. I spent the next few days delighting in torturing my friends as I read aloud quotes. It would be the best book I read in 2009.

One of the reasons for this recommendation is his skill with words. For example, with wry and detached humour, he sketches in words the portraits of people and groups he meets.

On Lawrence, a biscuit marketing executive, he writes: “He was a volatile mixture of confidence and vulnerability. He could deliver extended monologues on professional matters, then promptly stop in his tracks to peer inquisitively into his guest’s eyes for signs of boredom or mockery, being intelligent enough to be unable to fully believe in his own claims of significance.” (p. 73)

On accounting executives, he writes: “It isn’t easy to encourage accountants to expand on what they do. They feel that any curiosity shown by a civilian must conceal mockery... But with perseverance, their reflective self-deprecation gradually gives way to a more earnest pride in their mastery of a labyrinthine craft.”

On entrepreneurs: “Though forced to justify their efforts in the pragmatic language of venture capital, they were at heart Utopian thinkers intent on transforming the world for the better, one deodorant-dispensing machine at a time”.

You can see, even from those excerpts, that Alain de Botton demonstrates an exceptional skill at observing people in detail. Actually, it’s pretty hard, as an amateur reviewer, to even form words that do justice to Alain de Botton’s writing. But I will try.

I think the real joy I get from reading this book is because Alain de Botton doesn’t write like philosophers write. He writes in sentences that I can understand; he makes me laugh as he puts phrases together; and I can relate completely to his empathic care and gentleness. He writes with a childlike innocence but a poet’s prose. It’s this combination of wonder and gorgeous language which makes him, in my opinion, one of the best living writers in the secular world.

He structures his book as a series of ten essays into different work areas: everything from biscuit manufacture to electricity pylons; from logistics to accountancy. Each chapter is a self-contained observation of the particular area. As he says in an interview in Business Week he wanted to explore a topic frequently ignored in literature: working in the world.

He writes with the purpose of gently, almost accidentally, interrogating the reader on our own work decisions and purpose. He examines the belief in society that work should make us happy, and how Britons make career decisions based on “jobs chosen for them by their unthinking sixteen-year-old selves”. He examines our sometime dissatisfaction with our lot, and the idea that we think we should find a “calling”, and then knocks us off our self-absorbed perches to see the beauty in the average job.

I think this is a very valuable book to read for any Christian. The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work seems to reflect the wonder, mystery, sadness and beauty of the working world, in a similar way that the Psalmist reflects on the beauty of God’s creation. I think it’s a common belief among Christians that it’s only in the natural world, not the man-made world, that we truly see God at work. But de Botton rightly lifts the cover of darkness on that error in thinking and shows us the beauty of the man-made world. He restores us from the world-weariness I think many Christians, or indeed workers everywhere, have - that this world is completely fallen, and that there is no beauty in the everyday grind of work.

I would be in error though to stop there. Actually, he goes further, claiming that we are now “almost exclusively amazed by ourselves”, and that we “feel respect for circuit boards and pity and guilt towards glaciers”. It is evident that Alain de Botton thinks we have moved beyond religion and God, and have failed to see our greatness as creators over this man-made world.

Though it is written in a sweet and genuine way, there is a deep and underlying despair present throughout the book, no more evident than in his chapter on the careers counsellor. His portrait of the occupation is sad - that so few investigate careers before finding themselves somehow doing something for 20 years that they only mildly, if that, enjoy. Symons, the counsellor he interviews, quotes Maslow in his office: “It isn’t normal to know what we want. It is a rare and difficult psychological achievement”. Alain de Botton seems to accept this thesis, and the crushing pessimism it evokes. The idea that work should fulfill us is also argued by de Botton, that the world’s view, at least in the modern western world, work is “able to provide us, alongside love, with the principal source of life’s meaning”.

Of course, we know this isn’t true. This is where it is very clear that Alain de Botton is not a Christan. We are commanded to work, as we are able, and to try and provide for ourselves where possible, but it isn’t our principal source of life’s meaning. Yes, it can be deeply fulfilling, but we cannot expect that it will be. Our purpose is to seek to glorify God by whatever we do. That being said, I do love that this book also reminds us of the incredible beauty and wonder of the created world: that man, under God’s sovereignty and purpose, manages the planet in an amazingly complex, creative way. I think we sometimes fail to hold that tension in our heads.

I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to refresh their vision to the joy and wonder in the Created world.

Thank you for your review, Georgina-- I've heard a lot of good things about this book, I'll have to check it out.

The Quiz

1. Cornetto or Drumstick
2. I wish I was better with..
3. The movie you've seen the most times
4. I don't like being asked..
5. If you could go back a decade, what advice would you give your younger self?

Grind Grind Grind

Just barely keeping my head above water, now coming into the third week of being crook.

E is now pretty crook too, so it's all a bit of an uphill struggle at the moment! I won't bore you with the details, but that's where I'm at anyway.

Come On, Have A Heart

Book Review Wednesday needs YOU!

I've loved having you guys contribute, and would love it to continue.

If you feel like writing a quick review, email me at bmclaughlin AT sstar DOT com DOT au. Any kind of book welcome.

The Big Big Salad

I hate when you go somewhere new, and you're the only person who doesn't know The Rules.

The other day I went to a salad place to get some lunch. It was pretty cool- you got you're own bowl and tongs, and went around the servery things getting what you wanted. Then you took the bowl to a counter where they put some chicken and dressings on, and put it in a take away container.

It looked like a complex system, so I stood outside for a bit, watching other people in order to work out the protocol. It looked do-able, so I went in and got a bowl. This was the beginning of my downfall.

The bowls were those massive stainless steel ones. Maybe this is a male thing, or maybe it's just me being greedy, but the way my mind works is, if you give me a big bowl, I'm going to fill it. So I begin conquering the serveries.

There are three types of lettuce, so I get all three. A few cheeses, so I get all of them. And so on. About mid way, I'm getting a bit concerned. This is one big salad, and I've not used a lot of discretion as to what goes with what. It's kind of looking like a Caesar Garden Green Spanish Greek Salad. With a Cosmopolitan Modern Australian twist. And Asian overtones.

For the first time, I look at the person behind me. It's a girl, and maybe it's a female thing, or maybe it's her ungreediness, but that massive bowl is looking decidedly empty. It's a picture of zen-like restraint. A bit of rocket, a quarter of a tomato. Three croutons. And a bean. She looks at my bowl, then at me. Then at my bowl again. I detect a vague disgusted sneer flash across her mouth.

Anyway, I eventually get to the counter, and sense many eyes looking my way. I'm aware of my give-away 'yes, I'm an idiot' expression, so I try to affect a new one, to disguise it. I go for the nonchalant 'yeah, this is a massive salad, but it's not just for me, it's for seven of us back at work'.

The person at the counter assesses the amount in the bowl, and looks to the three sizes of container available. She sighs, grabs the Jumbo, and rolling up her sleeves, attempts to stuff my contents in there.

It's hard going. Fetta becomes bosom pals with tomato. A bean pierces half an egg. The container is wall to wall filled, no air pockets anywhere. It's time to put the lid on. She needs all her weight, and some sort of ancient martial art to get it closed.

Bending at the knees to prevent back injury, she lifts my ubersalad and sends me on my way. A lot of weight is removed from my wallet as a result, but this helpfully makes way for the seven tonnes of lettuce (3 kinds) my small frame must now bear.

And so I add the salad place to the ever expanding list of places I must never go to again.

Thursday Peanuts

Pyjama Day

I'm having the day off work today. I've just gotten really run down, and on top of the dodgy back, Madras Eye and Delhi Belly I'm coming down with the flu. Great.

So, I'm just having a day at home to try and get things back on track

This Is A Tactic Of Wrestling

So apparently some Australian wrestler bloke in the Commonwealth Games has been stripped of his medal for rude behaviour.

Hassene Fkiri lost his temper, wouldn't shake his opponents hand and then gave the judging panel the middle finger. Less than ideal.

But I liked the exchange he then had with his surprised manager, who asked what on earth had prompted such behaviour. Mr Grumpy explained how he'd been provoked by his opponent 'pulling his neck'.

To which the manager responded, 'this is a tactic of wrestling'.

Heh! It's like a cricket player going 'Gee, coach, I was just standing there with my bat, minding my own business, when this guy comes and throws a hard red ball at me!'

Book Review Wednesday By Kim

The Outsiders
By S.E.Hinton (1967)

Review by Kim

You've got to read this book if for no other reason than there's a character called Sodapop. As a side benefit, if you happen to a 13-year-old girl when you read it, you will then also be able to claim you've fallen in love with a guy called Sodapop, if for no other reason than his name.

Although it's easy enough for a junior high audience to read and understand, I'd never want The Outsiders relegated to the suspect genre of "teen," despite having been written by one. Susan Eloise Hinton began the book at age 15 and published it at age 18, yet used her initials so no one would realize it was written by a female.

The story is gritty and real without being gratuitously emotional. It revolves around two American gangs divided along class lines, but the real stories are with the characters. Tough Dallas, talkative Two-Bit and Johnny, whose eyes, if I'm remembering the line correctly, made him look like a puppy who'd been kicked too many times.

The brother-like relationship the boys all share is profound, and it's nearly impossible not to feel for their sticky, sticky, real-life plights. It's no bouncing-off-the-walls fun fix book, but I genuinely like it and am convinced it belongs on everyone's list of books to read.

And besides, if you don't fall for Sodapop, there's always Ponyboy.

Thanks again, Kim!

The Vege Garden

I've been working on a bit of a vege garden out the back. Just planted some seeds on the weekend, so hopefully the torrential rain hasn't washed them all away. Check out the progress--

The plot. Most people just see a weedy patch of nothing. I saw possibilities and fullfilled dreams. And carrots. Build it and they will come.

Cleared out the weeds, made the ground a bit more level, and built an awesome path from some pavers I found down the back. Little e calls it the Yellow Brick Road.

Here's me and the girls putting in the hard yards.

Last weekend. Made some sweet mounds and planted a row of zuchinni, carrots, leek and spinach. Little e's holding a wichitty grub, which for five minutes was going to be her 'pet'. Until she squeezed it a bit hard. On this side of the path are a few herbs- coriander, oregano and thyme. And a row of basil growing from seeds.

Now, to put my feet up and wait for King Harvest.

A Monday Quiz For Tuesday

1. What did you do on the public holiday yesterday?
2. I'd think you were cool if you liked..
3. Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually..
4. Not worth the paper it's printed on
5. Do you buy any magazines regularly? Which?

Trouble Comes In Threes

For some reason, I've been getting all these random ailments. I got a whole new one today, it's getting ridiculous.

First, I've been crook in the guts the past week. I'm pretty sure it was Delhi Belly. I'm an empathetic kind of guy (as you know), who deeply feels other peoples pain. I guess with all the Commonwealth Games goings on, I have been feeling it hard for our beloved squad. Hence, my Delhi Belly.

Then secondly, the other day Little e pounced from afar, knees first on to my back. Having been weakened thus by my adversary, a day later I was tearing a piece of paper, and my back went 'ka-chow!!', and next minute I was laying in agony on the ground.

And now, thirdly, I woke up this morning with gank-eye. I could hardly open it. Now it's all bloodshot and only half open. It looks kind of Thom Yorke. I'm typing this by feel, as I have a bag over my head to hide my shame. Don't look at me, I'm hideous.

A Whole New World (Don't You Dare Close Your Eyes)

Hey friends.

Well, sorry for the quiet past week or two. That storyboard nearly killed me. Yes, killed. I worked at home over the long weekend, and finally finished it last night.

Done!

So, today is a whole new day, fresh and unfettered, and ripe with possibility.

Opportunity knocks. Come in, says I.