Day 148: Mad Cow
My dad just asked me if I was going to bring him home a tie from Thailand. It's a dad thing, isn't it? But I did, in my post twenty-minutes-sleep-since-yesterday stupor, think he meant a Thai. It didn't make sense that he didn't work any more and so didn't need one. Now I understand, and maybe a tie with a polo shirt isn't that good a look.
The blood bank try quite hard to guilt you/scare you into donating blood. I am happy to hand it over (and was even amused to read the other day that donating is a good way to reduce excess iron in your blood--just give it to someone else to dilute with theirs), but they have all these fussy rules about tattoos and communicable diseases and having lived in the United Kingdom for more than a week and a half in the early nineties. I don't have a communicable disease. Surely, after all this time, they would have found a way to find out if you have mad cow disease from living in the UK. One of the most ironic moments of my life was when the UK let me donate blood. I suppose every who lives in the UK, and is old enough, lived in the UK in the early nineties and so they would be mad cows too. It wouldn't really matter if you got tainted blood. It's just the rest of the world that is fussy.
List_Addict Irene
Mine is the only dog in the world who has a kennel every where. She likes coverage. At home the kennel is in the lounge room. It is like an envelope in an envelope. At the moment we are running her down the peninsula to stay with her cousins and the kennel is in the back seat. She is asleep in the kennel in the car. An envelope in an envelope. I am not sure how she is going to cope with being in a kennel outside for the next week, acting and being like a dog. It will possibly be a little demeaning for her. Poor little person. Am I a bad mother?
The Outfit
Shirt: Op-shopped
Tie: Op-shopped
Skirt: Op-shopped
Shoes: Irregular Choice
Photographer de Jour: B——
Who wore it better?
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The blood bank try quite hard to guilt you/scare you into donating blood. I am happy to hand it over (and was even amused to read the other day that donating is a good way to reduce excess iron in your blood--just give it to someone else to dilute with theirs), but they have all these fussy rules about tattoos and communicable diseases and having lived in the United Kingdom for more than a week and a half in the early nineties. I don't have a communicable disease. Surely, after all this time, they would have found a way to find out if you have mad cow disease from living in the UK. One of the most ironic moments of my life was when the UK let me donate blood. I suppose every who lives in the UK, and is old enough, lived in the UK in the early nineties and so they would be mad cows too. It wouldn't really matter if you got tainted blood. It's just the rest of the world that is fussy.
Mine is the only dog in the world who has a kennel every where. She likes coverage. At home the kennel is in the lounge room. It is like an envelope in an envelope. At the moment we are running her down the peninsula to stay with her cousins and the kennel is in the back seat. She is asleep in the kennel in the car. An envelope in an envelope. I am not sure how she is going to cope with being in a kennel outside for the next week, acting and being like a dog. It will possibly be a little demeaning for her. Poor little person. Am I a bad mother?
Who wore it better?
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You are a fantastic Mother to her, you rescued the poor little Soul from Caged Concrete! She is now possibly the most spoilt Pumpkin and Scanoobler in the Universe. ( She deserves it)
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun tie and skirt.
ReplyDeleteYour baby sounds pretty spoiled to me.
bisous
Suzanne
I love that tie and the way it matches the skirt! Ties on women are great. I would wear one to work but I would be overdressed.
ReplyDeleteDo you need to have a long talk with your dad about human trafficking and why you didn't bring him a Thai? Or maybe he just wanted some noodles.
I think if we all work on it we can somehow make overdressed the new underdressed. It would be great. And my dad probably did want either silk or noodles - his gaff was actually mine. I thought it may be in standing with his long term dad-joke where he wants to swap my sixty year old mother for two thirty year old. It is a joke because I think two thirty year olds would kill him!
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