Happy St. Paddy's Day
Or St. Patty's Day, as a girl from work said, in an all-of-office email today. I just shake my head at some of my co-workers. It's shake my head or shake them. Anyway.
My day was okay. Didn't finish the paper I was meant to write. I think it's amazing that in my job I (along with about fifteen other people) get to write policy that will become the law. Makes me feel sort of powerful. But don't blame me - there are fourteen others that contributed. And the policy relates to a little bit of water use in a tiny area of my state (yes, Queensland - damn, can't hide that). Still, it's my job to write a chunk of it. And I didn't. Hmmm.
So, the reason I didn't can be attributed to a dead Welsh guy (yes, Welsh!) called - er, something starting with M. But it wasn't Patrick. Who was a pagan and got sold into slavery and converted to christianity and then spent the next some years in Ireland trying to convert all the Irish pagans to christianity. And succeeding, I guess, given the state of Irish religion these days. Then he died on 17th March (some year way back), and now we, on the other side of the planet, go out on the anniversary of his death, wearing green, painting our faces green, drinking green beer and eating green food in celebration of a dead guy we didn't know or much care for. Why, I ask. Well, the evening was good - especially as lunch turned into dinner turned into more drinks and my paper never got finished.
There's always Monday.
Big thanks to all those who visited and commented on my Thursday Thirteen. I know, you have to give (comments) to receive (comments), and I do hope that next week I'll be better at that. But last night I started to get attacked by sandflies and couldn't sit in front of the computer anymore so bailed early. One day I hope to be like Kimmy and have 73 links to my post. Can always hope. I'll wear insect repellant next week.
Great news: I got silver in the blog olympics training camp yesterday. This is significantly up on last time, where I got a pathetic bronze - for coming last, or close to. Am very proud. Just need to figure how to upload my medal thingy's.
Oh, and, and, and (picture leaping with excitement and anxiety to tell my story) - last night I cut all my hair off. Well, I paid someone to do it. And she was great. Have found my hairdresser. Finally. I still have a bit of hair left - the trim turned into a full-scale hacking (with my consent - I told her to do whatever she wanted) and I loved it. Do you think I can re-style it that same way??? Of course not. So I had to show it off. So I drove from the hairdressers (two minutes from my house) to a friends place (20 minutes from my house) so she could see my hair the way it was meant to be. I should have taken pictures. But then, my mother has posted enough pictures of me to last quite a while.
Okay, so I've spent all this time, and have said a bit of everything, not much of anything. So I will post some pictures I have been meaning to post for a day or two. These are what north Queenslanders do (I'm from the south, so don't group me in with these people on this occasion) with roadkill.
A close up of cane toad atrocities! How revolting!!!
My day was okay. Didn't finish the paper I was meant to write. I think it's amazing that in my job I (along with about fifteen other people) get to write policy that will become the law. Makes me feel sort of powerful. But don't blame me - there are fourteen others that contributed. And the policy relates to a little bit of water use in a tiny area of my state (yes, Queensland - damn, can't hide that). Still, it's my job to write a chunk of it. And I didn't. Hmmm.
So, the reason I didn't can be attributed to a dead Welsh guy (yes, Welsh!) called - er, something starting with M. But it wasn't Patrick. Who was a pagan and got sold into slavery and converted to christianity and then spent the next some years in Ireland trying to convert all the Irish pagans to christianity. And succeeding, I guess, given the state of Irish religion these days. Then he died on 17th March (some year way back), and now we, on the other side of the planet, go out on the anniversary of his death, wearing green, painting our faces green, drinking green beer and eating green food in celebration of a dead guy we didn't know or much care for. Why, I ask. Well, the evening was good - especially as lunch turned into dinner turned into more drinks and my paper never got finished.
There's always Monday.
Big thanks to all those who visited and commented on my Thursday Thirteen. I know, you have to give (comments) to receive (comments), and I do hope that next week I'll be better at that. But last night I started to get attacked by sandflies and couldn't sit in front of the computer anymore so bailed early. One day I hope to be like Kimmy and have 73 links to my post. Can always hope. I'll wear insect repellant next week.
Great news: I got silver in the blog olympics training camp yesterday. This is significantly up on last time, where I got a pathetic bronze - for coming last, or close to. Am very proud. Just need to figure how to upload my medal thingy's.
Oh, and, and, and (picture leaping with excitement and anxiety to tell my story) - last night I cut all my hair off. Well, I paid someone to do it. And she was great. Have found my hairdresser. Finally. I still have a bit of hair left - the trim turned into a full-scale hacking (with my consent - I told her to do whatever she wanted) and I loved it. Do you think I can re-style it that same way??? Of course not. So I had to show it off. So I drove from the hairdressers (two minutes from my house) to a friends place (20 minutes from my house) so she could see my hair the way it was meant to be. I should have taken pictures. But then, my mother has posted enough pictures of me to last quite a while.
Okay, so I've spent all this time, and have said a bit of everything, not much of anything. So I will post some pictures I have been meaning to post for a day or two. These are what north Queenslanders do (I'm from the south, so don't group me in with these people on this occasion) with roadkill.
Yes, that's kangaroo paws (real, not the plant), crocodiles heads, and stuffed cane toads. And I think the lower right may be kangaroos testicles... Please, someone, correct me on that one. Seeing this stall at the markets is NOT the highlight of my Sunday's. I found it so obsene, I had to share it.
A close up of cane toad atrocities! How revolting!!!
posted by Tanya at 9:58 pm
3 Comments:
Oh but I LOVE the cane toad atrocities! Mind you, I'd never buy one of those pictured, but they're great for a laugh. (You've been good value for that lately, Tanya). But I still regret not having bought a purse made out of a cane toad when we were on hols up near the Daintree years back.
Where were they selling this stuff?
Do you still like your new hairdo?
Barbara- This stuff is sold at the local markets in my town (Townsville, Australia) every Sunday. But I have a feeling that anywhere there are cane toads (north-eastern Australia) they'll be stuffing and selling...
I still prefer the hair to before. Just wish I could style it the way the hairdresser did... sigh.
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