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Day 362: Firsts and Twelfths

It is silly, but we all do it. We save commitment to this day. This day, when there is no reason why any other day will not suffice to start a new adventure, remember something left behind, be more of the person you want to be.


New adventures 2016: Reading challenges (I love that travelling by train to and from my new house has made me an even more voracious reader); Couch to 5K (Not everything new is necessarily enjoyable!); A million Steps every three months on the Fitbit; Pulling the wildness back a little in my garden and making it an amazing place to be (refurb the grass, three tiered areas near the side of the house, a luxuriant deck, new steps, a mean and bitter end to the tradescantia albiflora—whatever it takes).


The First first is my first book of the year. Hosted by Sheila at Book Journey. If you need some inspiration for a good read tomorrow as you nurse a sore head and a dry throat, pop over and see what everyone is starting their year with. I'm a year behind sta…

Day 361: Eleven, Rhymes with Heaven!

Well, it rhymes better than 'Books' does. They do mean the same thing though. Books are what we are about today. Not interested? Have a look at the pictures and have a fabulous day! Otherwise, following are my progress reports on assorted book challenges for the year:



Avanti Ciera 2015 Let Me Count the Ways Reading Challenge

Goal: Multi-Diamond—10,000+ Pages

January: 1887 pages
February: 2491 pages
March: 2436 pages
April: 3197 pages
May: 3973 pages
June: 1951 pages
July: 3235 pages
August: 4503 pages

Total Year to Date: 23673

Goal Blown Out of the Water! According to Goodreads, I have actually only read 22,133 pages, so something has gone slightly awry somewhere. But I still count that as Job Done. And two giant diamonds for me so far. I wonder when they will arrive?

100% 0 10000 Pages


Book'd Out's Eclectic Book Challenge 2015

Reading some, finished some, yet to start the rest.

Retellings (of fairytale, legends or myth): Two Years Eight Months and Twenty Eight Ni…

Day 360: Ten Little Surprises

I'm organising a holiday. It is a secret. Do not tell Mr Earwig. Later this year he is turning fifty. But it wasn't me that told you okay? He doesn't want anyone to know. He doesn't want a big party; he wants to disappear for a few days and come back like it never happened. So on the actual day we are going to a wedding. That should cover that up nicely. A few days later we will do the disappearing act. He knows something is afoot. It is, I realise now, quite difficult to fly solo on organising something as momentous as this. Sure, when we do it together I usually put a very strong case forward as to why my plan is the best—and he doesn't often argue back—but I would normally get to run every other option through him before I decide which is the best in the first place. I can't do that here.


I've managed to get in a couple of 'Would you rather *scenario 1*, or *scenario 2*?' Q&A's, where scenarios include things like staying put or …

Day 359: You're Making Me Feel Hot

Well now that the silliness is over, I can relax, look back and see what Christmas 2013 was all about. In our family we have on-years and off-years. On-years are when we get together with the core family members (we're a complete two generation family that moved to Australia from South Africa in the eighties and so, before everyone got 'partners', Christmas was always just our core family); off-years, the second of every two, are when everyone goes to the other halves' family events. A simple plan. It works quite well. This was an off-year. But there seemed to be lots of using the fact that my Dad had been unwell during the year and was unlikely to travel over Christmas as an excuse to abandon the usual plan and head up to the Gold Coast. My sister and family did it. And V—— and I did too. I had Xmas Eve Eve, Xmas Eve and Xmas day off work and we hightailed it up there to make the most of a three day holiday with the lot. This was the outfit I sort-of wore on Christma…

Day 358: Nine Sugar Shoes, No-Sugar Shoes

I'm quitting sugar. Yeah, yeah, very funny! Close those mock-shock mouths and get up from your soccer-style, fall-to-the-floor feints. I don't believe I can do it either. But I am going to try. I was going to start today. But I thought I would make banana bread at seven am and think about this properly instead. I need to be ready.


Ready Plan Item Number One:

Buy Sarah Wilson's I Quit Sugar.

Accomplished/Work in Progress/Failed



Ready Plan Item Number Two:

Throw out all the things in my cupboard house that contain sugar, or send them to work where Mr Earwig can keep a secret stash he shouldn't have, away from me and any knowledge I have of it.

Accomplished/Work in Progress/Failed



Ready Plan Item Number Three (Most Important One and The Real Reason For The Delay):

Taste for the last time those things which mean so much to me, that bring sunshine to my life, and that will never pass these lips again.

Here is the list:   Darrell Lea's Peanut BrittleLi…

Day 357: Can Eight Pairs Make You Happy?

Ironically I find it more difficult to find things to write about when I write less often than when I do it all the time. All the time means you need to think outside the box, be creative. Once in a while feels like it should be a catch up. For lack of any other bright ideas, I was going to tell you about the holidays we had been on since I became a slack writer/blogger—Jervis Bay (dogs in water) and the Gold Coast (dogs in hammocks)—but a couple of weeks ago I had a spell in which I was so-oooo-ooo blue. And it got me thinking about a different topic altogether: Do the people who do okay in the First World have the right to be unhappy?

Mr Earwig and the Earwig babies at Australia's, and maybe the world's, whitest beach: Hyams Beach, Jervis Bay
Because, really, I am doing okay. I have a job. Maybe it is a stressful, anxiety-producing and under, or not-at-all, appreciated job. Maybe it is a job that doesn't let me use my brain enough or my creativity at all. But it pays…

Day 356: Seven—Showing and Going

I am bowing out this pair of shoes—number seven. I have worn these shoes through. Literally. I can't show a better picture of them because they are all holes. Sparkly with a flowered, sequinned toe; darkly with insides splattered with (fake) blood. From Iron Fist. They did me well. I think I'll pop over and see if there is something I might like to get from them again ...

No luck.

But that doesn't mean I haven't been shopping.


Are we fools when we blackmail ourselves? Or does it work? Do you do it? I have started a scheme by which I reward myself for walking. Each month I choose an item I would like. This premier month it was a pair of the flat chunky sandals that are so 'in' at the moment. I chose these ones from Dirty Laundry via Modcloth:


In order to have those in my grubby little hands rather than on my wishlist, I told myself, I need to walk over ten thousand steps a day for at least fifteen days in June. The ten thousand step thing is, it…