I wish this were true!
Prince Philip has expressed profound disappointment at his recent demotion to a knight, advising that he intends to fight the appointment. “I’m taking the matter to Fair Work Australia,” he said. “I’m a prince goddammit, not a knight. Am I seriously supposed to ride a horse again?”
The Prince has been reeling from the news at Windsor Castle surrounded by his closest bottles of gin. “I’ve worked hard all my life attending party after party after party dealing with an eye-crossingly dull wife, stupid children, horny staff and patting poor people’s babies and what is the thanks I get for it?” he asked whilst putting up a sad-face on his Facebook page. “A mad colonialist telling me I have to be his chainmail bitch.”
Australian prime minister and leading satirist Tony Abbott announced yesterday that the Prince be appointed his knight. “He’s a…
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Ellie reading – video
In the last couple of weeks I’ve had a cold, conjunctivitis, an ear infection, and some bizarre unidentified rash all over my neck and shoulders. It’s all cleared up now except for the ear, which is irritating me no end! I’m pretty sure the infection is gone; I was on antibiotics for a week and the pain has gone. But I’m left with the feeling that somebody’s stuffed cotton wool into my ear and won’t let me take it out. It feels blocked, and sound is muffled. Sometimes I’m nearly sure the blockage is about to come out, and I shake my head around like a lunatic to dislodge it, but to no avail. I think I’ll have to go back to the doctor for this one.
If I were feeling particularly cruel, I could post a picture of my eye. Apparently rubbing at your eye too much – which one does when one has pinkeye – can burst blood vessels and you end up looking rather demonic. But it’s not pleasant to look upon, and so I shall not post it here. If you’re a sucker for punishment, you can click here to see it! (It got worse than that, but I didn’t take any more photos.)
In a quick aside, I should note that today I finally bought some “food rings” to use for making crumpets, muffins, and so on. Egg rings are tolerable only for so long; I needed something taller! Most of my creations rise up above the egg rings and spill out. Oh, and the lady who sold them to me, coincidentally, also can’t eat gluten! I’m finding us all over the place. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but I still half-expect a “What?” response when I say I can’t eat gluten. Instead I get, “Oh, me too!” or, “My sister/friend/mother/neighbour can’t either!” It is becoming more and more common, which is great because increased demand increases supply! It’s simultaneously becoming easier and cheaper to eat gluten free foods.
I’m going to try a new bread recipe either this afternoon or tomorrow. I’m pretty sure I bought everything I need for it today – I’ve never needed citric acid before, I wasn’t even sure where to get it, but it was easily found in the baking section of the supermarket. Anyway, if it turns out well, I’ll blog it.
Again and again I see people assert that being a stay at home mum is a lifestyle choice, not a job. It only leaves me wondering why it can’t be both. As I see it, most jobs, careers, and workplaces are chosen with a degree of lifestyle in mind. You wouldn’t take a job that was incompatible with your lifestyle, and you would be more likely to want to work in a place which holds similar values to yourself and, hopefully, a place where you can be yourself and enjoy being there. Is that not a lifestyle choice? I fail to see why we need to draw stark distinctions between things which in truth are similar, related, or intertwined. I chose to be a stay at home mum, and I like it. I feel no regret. But I also acknowledge that it is work, a job. Like any job, it has ups and downs, good and bad bits. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like work, and sometimes it does. Believe me, I didn’t want to be awake at 2am this morning, but that’s part of the job and part of the lifestyle.
I also feel that claiming motherhood, or being a stay at home mum, is not a job somehow devalues what we do. “It’s only a lifestyle” belittles it and overlooks the effort we put in. It might be a lifestyle, but there’s no mansion or pool or eternal sunshine; instead there are midnight feeds, dirty nappies, and tantrums.