You've gotta love the screaming hysteria that accompanies any whiff of feminism caught by the Murdoch media. This sounds like a perfectly sensible program in schools in which kids role play scenes involving sexual coercion and then find alternative, less, er, criminal ways of behaving by, you know, discussing the stuff.
"Compulsary feminism!", "Feminised education", "falling number of male teachers in schools", "Strident feminist propaganda won't wash with boys", "We need to ... [be] careful and respectful and don't make boys in particular feel blamed and demonised for the problem", "shoving capital 'F' feminism down their throats".
So boys shouldn't feel "blamed" for sexual violence against women? Because of course it's all the fault of those demon slut teenage girls. *headdesk*.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
hnnnnnnnuuurgh
This was the sound I made last night when, after walking around the whole of Ikea, I discovered they were all out of the bookshelf extensions I went there to get.
Also, do you like my new blog banner? For ages I've thought if we're going to have genetic engineering, why the hell aren't they using it to make REALLY COOL THINGS. Like tiny mutant hippopotamuses or pigs the size of rabbits or a horse the size of a toy poodle. You know, small things.
Speaking of which, I met a Boston Terrier this morning on the way to the train station. They're like French Bulldogs (or le bouledoge francais, as the French call them, no shit), only smaller. IF THEY CAN DO IT WITH DOGS WHY NOT A HIPPOPOTAMUS, ENQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.
I nearly died of cute. It was so soft. And teeny. And it jumped up and licked me. This last is only cute when soft teeny things do it. When our pug licks me, not so much. And if a St Bernard licks me, even less so.
And things that are less cute brings me to Clive Hamilton's election blog, on which he provides sterling examples of how not to do political communications. Dude, nugatory? Bascially, he commits the seven deadly sins of political communication:
1. using words like nugatory. If your audience needs to get the dictionary out, you've lost them. John Howard, much as I loathed him and everything he stands for, used a vocabulary of about 200 words. This is about right.
2. reproducing your opponents' campaign materials. Dude, why would you think that was a good idea?
3. sentences four lines long. This is never a good idea in any context.
4. repeating your opponents' points against you - "smelly, feral, dole-bludging tree-huggers".
5. critisising the media.
6. critisisng the local paper. This is like critisising the media x 100. Or possibly even x1000.
7. he seems to be developing a bad case of candidatitis. Check out the last two paras on his latest post. Dude, you can not win Higgins. No matter how polite the voters are to your doorknockers (and our Higgins locals are almost always polite, even when they're looking at you and thinking they wouldn't vote for you if you were the only candidate), you are not going to win. It's not "unexpected", it's Not.Going.To.Happen.
I enjoyed Growth Fetish and Affluenza like anything. Dr Hamilton must have had a really good editor.
And tree-huggers leads me to rainbows, which leads me to a rainbow cake. It's a week and a half til my birthday. Cough*Hugostartbaking*cough.
My thought processes may be strange, but you can't deny there is a certain logic....
Also, do you like my new blog banner? For ages I've thought if we're going to have genetic engineering, why the hell aren't they using it to make REALLY COOL THINGS. Like tiny mutant hippopotamuses or pigs the size of rabbits or a horse the size of a toy poodle. You know, small things.
Speaking of which, I met a Boston Terrier this morning on the way to the train station. They're like French Bulldogs (or le bouledoge francais, as the French call them, no shit), only smaller. IF THEY CAN DO IT WITH DOGS WHY NOT A HIPPOPOTAMUS, ENQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.
I nearly died of cute. It was so soft. And teeny. And it jumped up and licked me. This last is only cute when soft teeny things do it. When our pug licks me, not so much. And if a St Bernard licks me, even less so.
And things that are less cute brings me to Clive Hamilton's election blog, on which he provides sterling examples of how not to do political communications. Dude, nugatory? Bascially, he commits the seven deadly sins of political communication:
1. using words like nugatory. If your audience needs to get the dictionary out, you've lost them. John Howard, much as I loathed him and everything he stands for, used a vocabulary of about 200 words. This is about right.
2. reproducing your opponents' campaign materials. Dude, why would you think that was a good idea?
3. sentences four lines long. This is never a good idea in any context.
4. repeating your opponents' points against you - "smelly, feral, dole-bludging tree-huggers".
5. critisising the media.
6. critisisng the local paper. This is like critisising the media x 100. Or possibly even x1000.
7. he seems to be developing a bad case of candidatitis. Check out the last two paras on his latest post. Dude, you can not win Higgins. No matter how polite the voters are to your doorknockers (and our Higgins locals are almost always polite, even when they're looking at you and thinking they wouldn't vote for you if you were the only candidate), you are not going to win. It's not "unexpected", it's Not.Going.To.Happen.
I enjoyed Growth Fetish and Affluenza like anything. Dr Hamilton must have had a really good editor.
And tree-huggers leads me to rainbows, which leads me to a rainbow cake. It's a week and a half til my birthday. Cough*Hugostartbaking*cough.
My thought processes may be strange, but you can't deny there is a certain logic....
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Spare room/study before and after
These are from just before we moved in - everything was a variety of hideous shades of grey, the room had no curtains or blinds, and the first thing we did was paint the bedrooms white.
Here's the light fitting. So attractive.
Here's my PU#1 painting a cupboard.
It was the middle of winter and utterly, utterly freezing, thus the hat.
Here's Hugo, surveying his new domain.
And another.
Now. Here's what it looked like this afternoon:
This is the new lightfitting. It was a brass chandelier, bought on ebay for about $10. I sprayed it white with fridge enamel, and got energy-saving candle globes for it.
The rug is the ancient rag rug from my bedroom at home. The PUs were throwing it out when they moved house. Hugo dyed it green (sneakily) at the local laundromat.
Looking into the room, you can see my study area at the back of the room, the bookcases, and the sofa bed.
A different angle. The filing cabinet was my SIL's PUs', it was typical filing-cabinet grey. It took three coats of enamel paint to make it green.
The sofa bed was my friend Pete's aunt and uncle's, they got a new one. It now has a new sofa bed mattress (thanks to ebay - practically new, $30, actual inner spring mattress). Princess Kate gave us the two cushions on the right. My PU#1 embroidered the snail for my bedroom when I was a kid, and the bear is also from when I was a kid (he used to growl when you turned him upside down (as you would) but his growler is broken now).
The bookshelves are just Billy bookshelves from Ikea. For some reason, second-hand bookshelves are ludicrously expensive. You can see a white framed pic of my various KITTEHS above the lightswitch, and a tiny bit of the wooden box that used to be one of my bedside tables, but didn't fit any more once we moved.
These two pics are above my desk. The one on the left is from Inside a black apple, the one on the right is a picture of bunnies that Granny hand-coloured.
Here's the desk in some more detail. The actual desk is vintage Ikea, rescued from the Parental hayloft when we moved house. The wooden trays on top of the filing cabinet I found on the nature strip, the brown desk chair ditto. The brass horn in the corner is an antique coach horn - I bought it in England for about ₤15. The whiteboard is also vintage Ikea, it was in my room as a teenager. Green stationery is from Smiggle, light is a really expensive Italian glass light that looks magic on - I bought two of them when I bought my first apartment.
Plantation shutters on the windows, and a matching vertical blind on the inside window where we couldn't get a shutter. These were the most expensive thing in the room!
This is the area you can see PU#1 painting in the before pics. Dressing table mirror was Granny's. You can see a brass samovar reflected in it, which my other grandmother gave me - she was going to give leave it in her will to my sibling unit, but he described it as "the brass monstrosity" so she gave it to me in a fit of pique. The white dish is 60s, was my PUs (I think they probably used it as an ashtray), the other bowl an ex-boyfriend gave me. Peter the handyman built a cupboard under the drawers last week - before that, you could see all the pipes from the bathroom under here. We did it so the front of the cupboard can easily be unscrewed so if we need to, we can get to the pipes.
The door (now silver like all the doors) and my two Chinese-y paintings. PU#2 bought the panda one back from China for me, and I had it framed. The swan is from the op shop - I think it was about $5. These used to hang above my bed in the old apartment.
Here you can see the bedside light - $12 from the op shop - sitting on the wooden box. You can also see a collection of family photos.
And here. I've made the bed because Zoe is coming to stay the night tomorrow night - the sheets are all vintage except for the European pillow case, which used to be part of a pink/green lot (not set!) of sheets that I used to use on the bed before I realised that Hugo was never going to be able to change the sheets and use an actual set of sheets rather than three different sets mixed up. I got rid of all the coloured sheets (except for one flannelette set for if it's really cold) and replaced them with bits and pieces but all white - from op shops, ebay etc. That way it doesn't matter when they're not a set, they still look coordinated (it's also a really cheap way to buy sheets).
Here's the light fitting. So attractive.
Here's my PU#1 painting a cupboard.
It was the middle of winter and utterly, utterly freezing, thus the hat.
Here's Hugo, surveying his new domain.
And another.
Now. Here's what it looked like this afternoon:
This is the new lightfitting. It was a brass chandelier, bought on ebay for about $10. I sprayed it white with fridge enamel, and got energy-saving candle globes for it.
The rug is the ancient rag rug from my bedroom at home. The PUs were throwing it out when they moved house. Hugo dyed it green (sneakily) at the local laundromat.
Looking into the room, you can see my study area at the back of the room, the bookcases, and the sofa bed.
A different angle. The filing cabinet was my SIL's PUs', it was typical filing-cabinet grey. It took three coats of enamel paint to make it green.
The sofa bed was my friend Pete's aunt and uncle's, they got a new one. It now has a new sofa bed mattress (thanks to ebay - practically new, $30, actual inner spring mattress). Princess Kate gave us the two cushions on the right. My PU#1 embroidered the snail for my bedroom when I was a kid, and the bear is also from when I was a kid (he used to growl when you turned him upside down (as you would) but his growler is broken now).
The bookshelves are just Billy bookshelves from Ikea. For some reason, second-hand bookshelves are ludicrously expensive. You can see a white framed pic of my various KITTEHS above the lightswitch, and a tiny bit of the wooden box that used to be one of my bedside tables, but didn't fit any more once we moved.
These two pics are above my desk. The one on the left is from Inside a black apple, the one on the right is a picture of bunnies that Granny hand-coloured.
Here's the desk in some more detail. The actual desk is vintage Ikea, rescued from the Parental hayloft when we moved house. The wooden trays on top of the filing cabinet I found on the nature strip, the brown desk chair ditto. The brass horn in the corner is an antique coach horn - I bought it in England for about ₤15. The whiteboard is also vintage Ikea, it was in my room as a teenager. Green stationery is from Smiggle, light is a really expensive Italian glass light that looks magic on - I bought two of them when I bought my first apartment.
Plantation shutters on the windows, and a matching vertical blind on the inside window where we couldn't get a shutter. These were the most expensive thing in the room!
This is the area you can see PU#1 painting in the before pics. Dressing table mirror was Granny's. You can see a brass samovar reflected in it, which my other grandmother gave me - she was going to give leave it in her will to my sibling unit, but he described it as "the brass monstrosity" so she gave it to me in a fit of pique. The white dish is 60s, was my PUs (I think they probably used it as an ashtray), the other bowl an ex-boyfriend gave me. Peter the handyman built a cupboard under the drawers last week - before that, you could see all the pipes from the bathroom under here. We did it so the front of the cupboard can easily be unscrewed so if we need to, we can get to the pipes.
The door (now silver like all the doors) and my two Chinese-y paintings. PU#2 bought the panda one back from China for me, and I had it framed. The swan is from the op shop - I think it was about $5. These used to hang above my bed in the old apartment.
Here you can see the bedside light - $12 from the op shop - sitting on the wooden box. You can also see a collection of family photos.
And here. I've made the bed because Zoe is coming to stay the night tomorrow night - the sheets are all vintage except for the European pillow case, which used to be part of a pink/green lot (not set!) of sheets that I used to use on the bed before I realised that Hugo was never going to be able to change the sheets and use an actual set of sheets rather than three different sets mixed up. I got rid of all the coloured sheets (except for one flannelette set for if it's really cold) and replaced them with bits and pieces but all white - from op shops, ebay etc. That way it doesn't matter when they're not a set, they still look coordinated (it's also a really cheap way to buy sheets).
Anyway. Is all ready for Zoe - and for Stef at the end of December, except Nathan the aircon man is coming to install an airconditioner next week so Stef doesn't die of heat exhaustion.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Things I am loving today
I often use the blog for having a whinge about the things that are pissing me off, so in order to resolve some of the negativity, I am going to write a post entirely consisting of things I am actually really liking.
Peter, our handyman, is here putting a new cupboard in the study/spare room, to hold the spare bed bed linen. So I'm loving that we won't have nasty looking exposed plumbing in there any more, because the new cupboard will hide it.
I'm also loving his cheerful singing. He sings the entire time.
I just spoke to Nathan, the aircon man, who is coming to install an airconditioner, also in the study, next week. So I'm also loving that on 40 degree summer nights we won't boil any more.
I love how this family is living in a small apartment, and has rejected the idea that you need a heap of stuff for a baby.
I love working from home with the cat sitting on my desk and the dog snoozing at my feet. I love pugs! We met another pug in the park this morning. It wasn't *quite* as cute as Casper, but it was pretty cute.
I love the fact that I've cleaned out the study, that there's a heap of stuff sitting there waiting to go to the op shop, that I've recycled a whole heap more stuff (including first semester uni notes - it's not like I'd ever look at them again, since I have them on computer as well), and that the study is now, well, inhabitable (photos later). I love my garden. We've had salad with home-grown herbs two days in a row now.
I love that I'm going to a conference on medieval and early modern studies of religion and spirituality tomorrow, instead of going to work, and that Hugo's borrowed Aunty Carmel's car to drive me there and pick me up, because it's going to be 36 degrees, and that we're going to go for a swim afterwards.
Peter, our handyman, is here putting a new cupboard in the study/spare room, to hold the spare bed bed linen. So I'm loving that we won't have nasty looking exposed plumbing in there any more, because the new cupboard will hide it.
I'm also loving his cheerful singing. He sings the entire time.
I just spoke to Nathan, the aircon man, who is coming to install an airconditioner, also in the study, next week. So I'm also loving that on 40 degree summer nights we won't boil any more.
I love how this family is living in a small apartment, and has rejected the idea that you need a heap of stuff for a baby.
I love working from home with the cat sitting on my desk and the dog snoozing at my feet. I love pugs! We met another pug in the park this morning. It wasn't *quite* as cute as Casper, but it was pretty cute.
I love the fact that I've cleaned out the study, that there's a heap of stuff sitting there waiting to go to the op shop, that I've recycled a whole heap more stuff (including first semester uni notes - it's not like I'd ever look at them again, since I have them on computer as well), and that the study is now, well, inhabitable (photos later). I love my garden. We've had salad with home-grown herbs two days in a row now.
I love that I'm going to a conference on medieval and early modern studies of religion and spirituality tomorrow, instead of going to work, and that Hugo's borrowed Aunty Carmel's car to drive me there and pick me up, because it's going to be 36 degrees, and that we're going to go for a swim afterwards.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
To sleep, perchance to be woken up by those idiot teenagers across the street
I am in a daze. Not because of the hot weather, which actually makes me sleep like the dead (at least since we got a ceiling fan) but because the students in the student accomodation across the road have decided that since exams are over, EVERY night is party night.
On Tuesday at around 11pm Hugo went to aks them to be quiet. They complied - for about 30 seconds. He hadn't even finished walking back across the road when the random shrieking started again. It's not even the music that's disturbing, it's the yelling, the squealing, and the laughing at the top of the lungs like a hyena. At 11.30pm we called the cops.
Last night, they were at it again. I'm visualising revenge, involving a high-pressure hose. If only Melbourne wasn't on stage 3A water restrictions.
Anyway, speaking of water, we went for a swim last night at the Carnegie pool, which is all outdoorsy and lovely, except for the showers where I have to close my eyes and not touch the walls. I always wear thongs at the pool anyway, but these are fairly high on the gross scale. It's only $3 for a concession swim though, which is cheaper than any of the other pools in the area. And the Harold Holt outdoor pool is shut.
The decluttering process has been slightly held up by the fact that it's been eleventy-three degrees upstairs at our place. Most of the clutter is upstairs and it's been too hot up there to go through boxes. I have freecycled a few things, though. And resisted the evil urge to go mad in Howards Storage World (and why doesn't that have an apostrophe anyway?) because really they are just over-priced, and the solution to storage woes is to have less stuff, not buy fancier containers.
On Tuesday at around 11pm Hugo went to aks them to be quiet. They complied - for about 30 seconds. He hadn't even finished walking back across the road when the random shrieking started again. It's not even the music that's disturbing, it's the yelling, the squealing, and the laughing at the top of the lungs like a hyena. At 11.30pm we called the cops.
Last night, they were at it again. I'm visualising revenge, involving a high-pressure hose. If only Melbourne wasn't on stage 3A water restrictions.
Anyway, speaking of water, we went for a swim last night at the Carnegie pool, which is all outdoorsy and lovely, except for the showers where I have to close my eyes and not touch the walls. I always wear thongs at the pool anyway, but these are fairly high on the gross scale. It's only $3 for a concession swim though, which is cheaper than any of the other pools in the area. And the Harold Holt outdoor pool is shut.
The decluttering process has been slightly held up by the fact that it's been eleventy-three degrees upstairs at our place. Most of the clutter is upstairs and it's been too hot up there to go through boxes. I have freecycled a few things, though. And resisted the evil urge to go mad in Howards Storage World (and why doesn't that have an apostrophe anyway?) because really they are just over-priced, and the solution to storage woes is to have less stuff, not buy fancier containers.
Monday, November 09, 2009
What an idiot
This column has to be the stupidest thing I've read so far about the Higgins and Bradfield by-elections.
First, she says "The Australian Sex Party are not alone - the Christian Democrats, Family First, One Nation and climate sceptic Independent Leon Ashby are all joining the circus. A race with an almost guaranteed party winner should be boring, but this time it has brought all sorts out of the wood work."
This happens Every.Single.Time.There.Is.A.By-election. Out come the fruitloops. Now with extra fibre and 345% of your daily sugar allowance.
Then she says "Presumably, not many pro-porn voters will be living in these seats. "
Because nice rich Liberal-voting people don't ever look at porn... wait, I'm confused. Is she seriously suggesting that it's only Labor voters who watch/read/have a wank over porn? Or is it only poorer people? Brain... hurts...
Then "But with Labor not running in Bradfield or Higgins and with lots of media attention on the race, it is peculiar opportunity to see a quasi mardi-gras of minor politics, complete with independents and extremes of the left and right."
Peculiar? See previous comment: This happens Every.Single.Time.There.Is.A.By-election.
Of course if you ignore the assertions that the variety pack of candidates is somehow unusual, and that apparently nice Liberal-votin' folks don't ever look at naked sex pictures, then it's a great "colour" piece.
I can't believe people get paid to write this sort of dross, and yet I have yet to be offered a job as a highly-paid contentious columnist.
First, she says "The Australian Sex Party are not alone - the Christian Democrats, Family First, One Nation and climate sceptic Independent Leon Ashby are all joining the circus. A race with an almost guaranteed party winner should be boring, but this time it has brought all sorts out of the wood work."
This happens Every.Single.Time.There.Is.A.By-election. Out come the fruitloops. Now with extra fibre and 345% of your daily sugar allowance.
Then she says "Presumably, not many pro-porn voters will be living in these seats. "
Because nice rich Liberal-voting people don't ever look at porn... wait, I'm confused. Is she seriously suggesting that it's only Labor voters who watch/read/have a wank over porn? Or is it only poorer people? Brain... hurts...
Then "But with Labor not running in Bradfield or Higgins and with lots of media attention on the race, it is peculiar opportunity to see a quasi mardi-gras of minor politics, complete with independents and extremes of the left and right."
Peculiar? See previous comment: This happens Every.Single.Time.There.Is.A.By-election.
Of course if you ignore the assertions that the variety pack of candidates is somehow unusual, and that apparently nice Liberal-votin' folks don't ever look at naked sex pictures, then it's a great "colour" piece.
I can't believe people get paid to write this sort of dross, and yet I have yet to be offered a job as a highly-paid contentious columnist.
House progress
The PUs came round yesterday afternoon, and kindly took away six bags of op shop stuff with them. The declutter continues apace. I then put some stuff on the hard rubbish, did *another* op shop bag and put away a box of books. Callum came round and put a new bit in the grey water system (he did explain what it does, but anyway, it all works now, and the garden is being watered, thank goodness, because I didn't think it was going to last a week of 30+ days without irrigation - I am way too lazy to water it sufficiently by hand).
So that's my list for yesterday.
Today I have put the guinea pig cage on freecycle (since we sadly no longer have a piggy), as well as the "chipper" the PUs used to cook us chips in when we were kids. I'm about to go upstairs and sort through another box.
Decluttering is really hard for me (I guess for most people). I want to hang onto things because they have some value in my memory, or they came from someone I'm fond of, even though I don't necessarily like or have use for the objects themselves.
I sat in Borders the other day reading a book on decluttering (note to authors of book: buying more stuff in order to get rid of stuff = counterproductive) and although most of it was useless, one thing resonated with me - it said "you can get rid of the stuff without getting rid of the love". If I throw out something Granny gave me, I'm not diminishing the love I had for her, or the love she had for me. Must keep remembering this.
Also, assorted crap will *not* be useful come the revolution/apocalypse, so I might as well chuck it. Ok, I am psyched up now. Going to tidy!
So that's my list for yesterday.
Today I have put the guinea pig cage on freecycle (since we sadly no longer have a piggy), as well as the "chipper" the PUs used to cook us chips in when we were kids. I'm about to go upstairs and sort through another box.
Decluttering is really hard for me (I guess for most people). I want to hang onto things because they have some value in my memory, or they came from someone I'm fond of, even though I don't necessarily like or have use for the objects themselves.
I sat in Borders the other day reading a book on decluttering (note to authors of book: buying more stuff in order to get rid of stuff = counterproductive) and although most of it was useless, one thing resonated with me - it said "you can get rid of the stuff without getting rid of the love". If I throw out something Granny gave me, I'm not diminishing the love I had for her, or the love she had for me. Must keep remembering this.
Also, assorted crap will *not* be useful come the revolution/apocalypse, so I might as well chuck it. Ok, I am psyched up now. Going to tidy!
Friday, November 06, 2009
The bathroom, part II
So, the "after" shots you've all been waiting for (if you missed the before shots, click here):
Welcome to the Municpal Bath & Wash-House. It will cost you 3d for a first-class bath. Note, if you will, the extended bathing times for men, and the only-three-hours-on-Wednesdays for ladies. I mean, we all know men are smellier than women, but come ON! (I bought this sign years ago in Bath)
But I digress... Right, bathroom. Here's the laundry corner - front loading washing machine, with pull out indoor clothes line above it (cleverly placed on the wall that contains the heating flue from our gas heater downstairs - this wall gets REALLY hot in winter). On it, you can see (styled for the photographs!) an assortment of Hugo's holey t-shirts, my undies (oo err) and a tea towel that came free with a delicious magazine.
Looking into the room, we kept the existing bath, the shower is exactly where it was, and the mirror cupboard is the same cupboard. This helped minimise costs.
To your left, the vanity: made of an old table bought for under $15 on ebay, and reusing the door from the old vanity (now painted shiny white); basins also bought on ebay (around $150 for both), taps from ebay ($200 for all the taps for the bathroom). The two boxy things with our everyday stuff (sunscreen etc) I bought in Paris, the pot the plant is in is from Ikea, and the small silver pots with hair things in I bought in England.
Above the vanity is the mirror cupboard - you can see the art on the other wall reflected in it. The big jar at the end is for soap, it used to be in the kitchen, the green glass bottles were my great-grandmother's (I am named after her) and there are a couple of Moroccan tea glasses the same colour that I bought to match. The two boxes at the end - the bottom one my friend Robbie bought me back from India, it has incense in it, the top one has essential oils in it, Annoi got it for me at the Fairy Shop when she worked there.
And I can't resist showing you a shot of the inside (don't worry, all the really gross stuff is in the cupboards underneath, which I am not going to show you!) just because it was so disorganised before (yes, there are eleventy three tubes of toothpaste because they were 80 cents off so I stocked up):
Next to the mirror cupboard is a porcelain art work by Katie Parker, she's a porcelain and cut paper artist (you can check her work out here, I think she's amazingly talented). You can also see the pipe - that's part of the grey water system, the water is pumped up through this pipe, across the roof, down the other side and waters out garden. WIN! Next to that you can see the end of the old towel rail - I got Peter, our handyman, to put it up above the bath, so now I can dangle handwashing off it on coathangers (whenever I actually get around to doing some):
Under this is a hook for my shower cap - I love this, because it has a happy little person on it. I've had it for years and I've moved it from house to house (or apartment to apartment, to be more accurate). I think I bought it in England in 1995, there was a boy one too, but I think an ex-boyfriend has it.
Then if you glance upwards, you'll see a fan/heater/light - and also the plantation shutters on the window.
Then at the end, the far-less-festy shower, with water saving showerhead (free from South East Water) and corner shelf thingy ($20 from Ikea)
Bottom of shower, now coated in river pebbles ($5, ebay, factory seconds). Slightly damp in the pic cause Hugo had a shower at some point during the afternoon, which makes some tiles look a different colour. They're not, they're all dark grey.
Then on your right, a lovely painting of ducks (from the op shop), towel rail (ebay, $10), mirror (factory second, $25)
In between, only you can't see it in the previous shot because I'm aiming higher, there's a stool/washing basket (Ikea, don't remember how much, because my aunt bought it for me as a gift, but let me tell you, they are bloody flimsy and I have had to glue the stupid thing back together several times - the last time I took it apart and glued the whole thing with wood glue, so hopefully now it stays together) - let me tell you, it is MADE OF WIN being able to sit down while you brush your teeth (yes, I am lazy). Two other essential accessories for any bathroom - rubber backed soft fuzzy bathmat (strangely also a gift from my aunt, she's good with the practical bathroom gifts) and a Siamesey. Note how colour-coordinated with the bathroom she is. This was not actually deliberate.
The tiles, which no doubt you have noted throughout, were free - they came out of a skip. Hugo and I were with my PU#2 one day at the local shops, and we happened upon a skip outside the local pharmacy. Now, neither the PU nor I can resist skip shopping, so we loaded the car with eleventy-three floor tiles and voila. They have been grouted with dark grout, because it's heaps easier to clean* than white grout.
Paints are mostly Porters Paints - Silver "Alchemy" paint on the door, untinted white everywhere else (semi-gloss on walls) - the white gloss on the cupboards etc isn't Porters because they don't do one, it's Wattyl IQ (I think).
And I hope it's not disappointingly bland! There's a lot of colour in the rest of the house, I really wanted the bathroom to be restful - white/natural, and silver, and wood with touches of green.
*By which I clearly mean, it doesn't have to be cleaned because you can't see the dirt. Clever!
Welcome to the Municpal Bath & Wash-House. It will cost you 3d for a first-class bath. Note, if you will, the extended bathing times for men, and the only-three-hours-on-Wednesdays for ladies. I mean, we all know men are smellier than women, but come ON! (I bought this sign years ago in Bath)
But I digress... Right, bathroom. Here's the laundry corner - front loading washing machine, with pull out indoor clothes line above it (cleverly placed on the wall that contains the heating flue from our gas heater downstairs - this wall gets REALLY hot in winter). On it, you can see (styled for the photographs!) an assortment of Hugo's holey t-shirts, my undies (oo err) and a tea towel that came free with a delicious magazine.
Looking into the room, we kept the existing bath, the shower is exactly where it was, and the mirror cupboard is the same cupboard. This helped minimise costs.
To your left, the vanity: made of an old table bought for under $15 on ebay, and reusing the door from the old vanity (now painted shiny white); basins also bought on ebay (around $150 for both), taps from ebay ($200 for all the taps for the bathroom). The two boxy things with our everyday stuff (sunscreen etc) I bought in Paris, the pot the plant is in is from Ikea, and the small silver pots with hair things in I bought in England.
Above the vanity is the mirror cupboard - you can see the art on the other wall reflected in it. The big jar at the end is for soap, it used to be in the kitchen, the green glass bottles were my great-grandmother's (I am named after her) and there are a couple of Moroccan tea glasses the same colour that I bought to match. The two boxes at the end - the bottom one my friend Robbie bought me back from India, it has incense in it, the top one has essential oils in it, Annoi got it for me at the Fairy Shop when she worked there.
And I can't resist showing you a shot of the inside (don't worry, all the really gross stuff is in the cupboards underneath, which I am not going to show you!) just because it was so disorganised before (yes, there are eleventy three tubes of toothpaste because they were 80 cents off so I stocked up):
Next to the mirror cupboard is a porcelain art work by Katie Parker, she's a porcelain and cut paper artist (you can check her work out here, I think she's amazingly talented). You can also see the pipe - that's part of the grey water system, the water is pumped up through this pipe, across the roof, down the other side and waters out garden. WIN! Next to that you can see the end of the old towel rail - I got Peter, our handyman, to put it up above the bath, so now I can dangle handwashing off it on coathangers (whenever I actually get around to doing some):
Under this is a hook for my shower cap - I love this, because it has a happy little person on it. I've had it for years and I've moved it from house to house (or apartment to apartment, to be more accurate). I think I bought it in England in 1995, there was a boy one too, but I think an ex-boyfriend has it.
Then if you glance upwards, you'll see a fan/heater/light - and also the plantation shutters on the window.
Then at the end, the far-less-festy shower, with water saving showerhead (free from South East Water) and corner shelf thingy ($20 from Ikea)
Bottom of shower, now coated in river pebbles ($5, ebay, factory seconds). Slightly damp in the pic cause Hugo had a shower at some point during the afternoon, which makes some tiles look a different colour. They're not, they're all dark grey.
Then on your right, a lovely painting of ducks (from the op shop), towel rail (ebay, $10), mirror (factory second, $25)
In between, only you can't see it in the previous shot because I'm aiming higher, there's a stool/washing basket (Ikea, don't remember how much, because my aunt bought it for me as a gift, but let me tell you, they are bloody flimsy and I have had to glue the stupid thing back together several times - the last time I took it apart and glued the whole thing with wood glue, so hopefully now it stays together) - let me tell you, it is MADE OF WIN being able to sit down while you brush your teeth (yes, I am lazy). Two other essential accessories for any bathroom - rubber backed soft fuzzy bathmat (strangely also a gift from my aunt, she's good with the practical bathroom gifts) and a Siamesey. Note how colour-coordinated with the bathroom she is. This was not actually deliberate.
The tiles, which no doubt you have noted throughout, were free - they came out of a skip. Hugo and I were with my PU#2 one day at the local shops, and we happened upon a skip outside the local pharmacy. Now, neither the PU nor I can resist skip shopping, so we loaded the car with eleventy-three floor tiles and voila. They have been grouted with dark grout, because it's heaps easier to clean* than white grout.
Paints are mostly Porters Paints - Silver "Alchemy" paint on the door, untinted white everywhere else (semi-gloss on walls) - the white gloss on the cupboards etc isn't Porters because they don't do one, it's Wattyl IQ (I think).
And I hope it's not disappointingly bland! There's a lot of colour in the rest of the house, I really wanted the bathroom to be restful - white/natural, and silver, and wood with touches of green.
*By which I clearly mean, it doesn't have to be cleaned because you can't see the dirt. Clever!
Further to my previous post on bogans
May I direct you to this blog all about things bogans like?
http://thingsboganslike.wordpress.com/the-full-list/
http://thingsboganslike.wordpress.com/the-full-list/
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Anyone want a free electric towel rail?
We got this to put in the bathroom, but unfortunately turns out there is no possible way for the electrician to put a powerpoint where we need it, and I'm not willing to have cords draped all over the bathroom (safety fail!)
The idea was we'd put it on a timer switch - it uses 75 watts, so about the same as a brightish non-energy saving lightbulb - from, say, 5.30am to 7.30am so I'd have a warm towel in winter (luxury!)
So anyway, it's white, it's still in the box, it's a wall-mount model (not free-standing), and if any of my readers want it, it's yours free - as long as you can pick it up (or you can pay for the postage I guess... probably cost about $15).
Otherwise it will go on ebay if I can be bothered or freecycle if I can't...
The idea was we'd put it on a timer switch - it uses 75 watts, so about the same as a brightish non-energy saving lightbulb - from, say, 5.30am to 7.30am so I'd have a warm towel in winter (luxury!)
So anyway, it's white, it's still in the box, it's a wall-mount model (not free-standing), and if any of my readers want it, it's yours free - as long as you can pick it up (or you can pay for the postage I guess... probably cost about $15).
Otherwise it will go on ebay if I can be bothered or freecycle if I can't...
The bathroom, part I
So, I think what I'll do is post the "before" pics of the bathroom today, and you can have the "after" pics tomorrow. That way you get a bit of a sense of anticipation - not dissimilar to the very long wait I've had for it to be finished (more than two years!) only much, much shorter. Same, same but different, as they say.
So, here's what it used to look like:
The wall tiles had been painted grey - and not with tile paint, someone had just slapped ordinary paint over the tiles. FAIL. the cupboards, woodwork, doors etc were painted the same dark grey, and the walls a drab lighter grey. The bottom of the shower was brown mosaic tiles (I have a mosaic tile phobia, I can't stand them - literally, I can't stand ON them, so you can see my thongs in the bottom of the shower to protect my feet from the icky), the door of the shower was one of those three-panel things that get mouldy in the middle. There was no ventilation. So when I say moudly, I mean MOULDY.
This was the vanity - grey doors, grey laminate top a washing machine tub on one side and a grey basin on the other. Did I mention the whole frigging thing was grey? Way to choose a depressing colour for everything, previous owners. You can see the grey door and the daggy 80s doorhandle in the corner of this one. The washing machine drained directly into the sink.
You can see the paint peeling on the wall behind the towel rail, if you look closely.
Everything was very disorganised because it was too depressing to try to organise anything when everything was so... grey.
Close up of the icky mosaic tiles, with the grey pebbles I planned to replace them with (ok, a *small* amount of grey is not so bad).
And a general sort of shot, showing the bath, shower and towel rail.
So, here's what it used to look like:
The wall tiles had been painted grey - and not with tile paint, someone had just slapped ordinary paint over the tiles. FAIL. the cupboards, woodwork, doors etc were painted the same dark grey, and the walls a drab lighter grey. The bottom of the shower was brown mosaic tiles (I have a mosaic tile phobia, I can't stand them - literally, I can't stand ON them, so you can see my thongs in the bottom of the shower to protect my feet from the icky), the door of the shower was one of those three-panel things that get mouldy in the middle. There was no ventilation. So when I say moudly, I mean MOULDY.
This was the vanity - grey doors, grey laminate top a washing machine tub on one side and a grey basin on the other. Did I mention the whole frigging thing was grey? Way to choose a depressing colour for everything, previous owners. You can see the grey door and the daggy 80s doorhandle in the corner of this one. The washing machine drained directly into the sink.
You can see the paint peeling on the wall behind the towel rail, if you look closely.
Everything was very disorganised because it was too depressing to try to organise anything when everything was so... grey.
Close up of the icky mosaic tiles, with the grey pebbles I planned to replace them with (ok, a *small* amount of grey is not so bad).
And a general sort of shot, showing the bath, shower and towel rail.
In fact the grey was so depressing that it made me just long for shiny whiteness, so the new bathroom (really just an updated bathroom - do you know how much it costs to rip everything out and start again from scratch? I nearly fainted when I got quotes!) is mostly white. As you'll see tomorrow - same bat channel.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
I have done none of my things for today
What I have done is call a man about an airconditioner. Of course it turns out, as with everything else, that installing it will be a fucking ridiculous exercise that will involve making holes in the roof, walls, floors and ceilings.
Nothing says good design like a complete inability to access anything like essential plumbing or electrics. Fuck.
Nothing says good design like a complete inability to access anything like essential plumbing or electrics. Fuck.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Spring cleaning and spring renovating
Some photos for you of the hallway and toilet (before and after pics of the bathroom, coming soon):
This is the door to the bathroom, painted silver (it's really shiny IRL, even though it just sort of looks grey in the pics) and with the notice I got years ago in Bath about how much it costs to have a bath (3d including use of two towels and a cake of soap, or 1d if you just want to use the lavatory).
And the back wall of the toilet is painted red and has a small yelllow antique cupboard on it, used to hold the standard bits and pieces you find in toilets.
This is the top of the corridor, showing my signed Timothy Leary "Timothy Leary in Wonderland - An Exhibition of Blotter Acid Art" poster, with an example of blotter art (presumably sans the acid) underneath it.
This is the new hall light, which PU#2 just changed the globe in, because it wasn't coming out for me, along with my printer's trays, which hold an assortment of small things from political badges to china figurines I had in my room as a child.
Painting by an elephant that my PU#1 bought at an elephant sanctuary in Cambodia (she watched the 'panti painting it, and swears it was enjoying the process) - it's hanging opposite the Tim Leary poster.
Masks from PNG - also bought by PU#1, in the 1970s when she visited - she was going to get rid of them (and the two spears you see in the next shot, and the big bark painting and the bamboo painting in the shot after that) when the PUs moved house recently, so I nabbed them.
The PNG spears - one has a special dead bug in one end that makes it work GOOD. The other doesn't, so is less speccy. There is an empty space that's for the arrow PU#2 got me in the Solomon Islands, if I can find it. I know it's somewhere in the apartment...
The one on the left is African (I think) and the one on the right is on bark and is also from PNG.
This shot is looking up the stairs - the purple is actually more purpley in real life - it looks quite blue in the pics but it's not. It's Porters Paints "Purple Rain".
Shot of the vintage plastic light above the stairs, before the pics etc went up.
And a closer up shot...
And this was the old light fitting in the corridor that has now been replaced by the big silver one. I think the big silver one looks heaps better - I despise oyster lamps as insipid. I am not into inspid decorating. No "think of the resale value - everything neutral" here, thank you very much. If the next owners of the apartment don't like it, they can bloody well paint over it. Not that we're going to be able to afford to move in a zillion years anyway.
This is the magic calendar on the back of the front door - each day, date, and month has a little pocket that you can put things in - tickets for specific dates, cards with vet appointments, that sort of thing. Is v useful for being organised.
So, on to the spring cleaning. With all the painting and decorating going on around here, I have a bit of a new regime happening. Every day I am trying to:
1. get rid of something out of the house
2. clean something
3. plant something
4. put something away
5. fix something.
Today I have got rid of three bags of stuff (including some clothes, some housey stuff, a couple of books and some magazines) to the op shop (stupidly, I forgot to give the PU#2 the really big bag of op shop stuff to take away), plus one bag of plastic bags with holes in them that Hugo has just taken down to the recycle bin at the supermarket.
I handwashed what Sean very kindly calls my "hobo cardigan" (I'm sure you can picture it from that description - it's large, black and kinda daggy), I planted a whole pack of California poppies (I love poppies best of all flowers) and I put away a bunch of Simpsons figurines in my newly-re-hung printer's trays in the hall. I also got the PU#2 to put an energy saving globe in the hall light, because for some reason I couldn't get the old globe out (this counts as fixing something, in my book). So I'm done for today. Yesterday I think I forgot to plant anything, but I did a bunch of throwing stuff out and also the handyman, Peter, was here and so much stuff got hung up/fixed to walls/etc that by the time he left I was exhausted - and I was only showing him where to put things!
This is the door to the bathroom, painted silver (it's really shiny IRL, even though it just sort of looks grey in the pics) and with the notice I got years ago in Bath about how much it costs to have a bath (3d including use of two towels and a cake of soap, or 1d if you just want to use the lavatory).
This is the toilet shrine - two Marian icons, a pleniary indulgence covering my Great-Grandmother, Marie Therèse Power and all her family, so we don't have to confess before we die, we're fine as long as we say Jesus, or even just think Jesus. And they say there are things money can't buy. There's also a curly plaster shelf thing, which is for incense, and the mirror was from the local op shop (I think it was $15) - it used to be the door of something. The small things you can see attached to the mirror are tweezers and nail file shaped like a superhero. She has a mask and looks like she eats villians for breakfast.
And the back wall of the toilet is painted red and has a small yelllow antique cupboard on it, used to hold the standard bits and pieces you find in toilets.
This is the top of the corridor, showing my signed Timothy Leary "Timothy Leary in Wonderland - An Exhibition of Blotter Acid Art" poster, with an example of blotter art (presumably sans the acid) underneath it.
This is the new hall light, which PU#2 just changed the globe in, because it wasn't coming out for me, along with my printer's trays, which hold an assortment of small things from political badges to china figurines I had in my room as a child.
Painting by an elephant that my PU#1 bought at an elephant sanctuary in Cambodia (she watched the 'panti painting it, and swears it was enjoying the process) - it's hanging opposite the Tim Leary poster.
Masks from PNG - also bought by PU#1, in the 1970s when she visited - she was going to get rid of them (and the two spears you see in the next shot, and the big bark painting and the bamboo painting in the shot after that) when the PUs moved house recently, so I nabbed them.
The PNG spears - one has a special dead bug in one end that makes it work GOOD. The other doesn't, so is less speccy. There is an empty space that's for the arrow PU#2 got me in the Solomon Islands, if I can find it. I know it's somewhere in the apartment...
The one on the left is African (I think) and the one on the right is on bark and is also from PNG.
This shot is looking up the stairs - the purple is actually more purpley in real life - it looks quite blue in the pics but it's not. It's Porters Paints "Purple Rain".
Shot of the vintage plastic light above the stairs, before the pics etc went up.
And a closer up shot...
And this was the old light fitting in the corridor that has now been replaced by the big silver one. I think the big silver one looks heaps better - I despise oyster lamps as insipid. I am not into inspid decorating. No "think of the resale value - everything neutral" here, thank you very much. If the next owners of the apartment don't like it, they can bloody well paint over it. Not that we're going to be able to afford to move in a zillion years anyway.
This is the magic calendar on the back of the front door - each day, date, and month has a little pocket that you can put things in - tickets for specific dates, cards with vet appointments, that sort of thing. Is v useful for being organised.
So, on to the spring cleaning. With all the painting and decorating going on around here, I have a bit of a new regime happening. Every day I am trying to:
1. get rid of something out of the house
2. clean something
3. plant something
4. put something away
5. fix something.
Today I have got rid of three bags of stuff (including some clothes, some housey stuff, a couple of books and some magazines) to the op shop (stupidly, I forgot to give the PU#2 the really big bag of op shop stuff to take away), plus one bag of plastic bags with holes in them that Hugo has just taken down to the recycle bin at the supermarket.
I handwashed what Sean very kindly calls my "hobo cardigan" (I'm sure you can picture it from that description - it's large, black and kinda daggy), I planted a whole pack of California poppies (I love poppies best of all flowers) and I put away a bunch of Simpsons figurines in my newly-re-hung printer's trays in the hall. I also got the PU#2 to put an energy saving globe in the hall light, because for some reason I couldn't get the old globe out (this counts as fixing something, in my book). So I'm done for today. Yesterday I think I forgot to plant anything, but I did a bunch of throwing stuff out and also the handyman, Peter, was here and so much stuff got hung up/fixed to walls/etc that by the time he left I was exhausted - and I was only showing him where to put things!
If you're very lucky, I might post pics of the bathroom tomorrow...
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