Saturday song

It’s Australias turn today I think. I have been thinking about opening Saturday to all the nations I’ve lived in, but for now I will keep the challenge where it is.

And I have a special treat for you today, a group I’ve seen live in Brisbane a couple of times. I adore this group, I love the voice of the lead singer and the feeling they can create for the crowd. There has been roumors for ages that they were releasing an album… still to see it coming. But for now, I give you Kingfisha. Love that voice…


The record goes to…

When we talk about Indigenous disadvantage in Australia, we know the states we are talking about. At least we think we do. Because we are furthest behind in Queensland aren’t we? In Western Australia a 10-year-old is incarcerated for accepting a stolen Freddo Frog from a friend. And don’t get me started on the Northern Territory. I’ve talked about this already.

But guess what? When it comes to health of Aboriginal people, the state which is the furthest behind is Victoria. This includes child protection and education. An article in The Australian reports the following

More broadly, Aborigines in the southern state also are more likely than non-indigenous Victorians to be trapped in the criminal justice system, be admitted to hospital, suffer chronic illness and are less likely to finish school, attend university and have a job.

But that is the general picture across the nation. The politicians respond by saying that there are “profound, very serious challenges in health and the justice system.” Unfortunately it is not the system they see as challenged, it is the people. To find answers to the poor health and education of Aboriginal people they  look for police interventions to solve re-offending rates and imprisonment.

How about doing something about the intergenerational disadvantage? The ongoing grief and trauma? I’m only asking.


All eyes on Saturday

A group of activists called Anonymous are going to shut down the internet on Saturday. At least they say they will try. It’s a protest against SOPA and all the other legislative packages that are to limit the internet. It’s not unlikely that they will succeed. Apparently they hacked PayPal, MasterCard and Visa in 2010. And Sony. Plus they were able to freeze Wikileaks. (The Australian wrote about it here.)

I like protests like this one. It’s bold and to the point: “you want to limit my internet, I’ll limit your internet”. The eyes are on the ball. I’m sure the politicians will make up some crap that these are a renegade few, attacking our democracy – I wouldn’t be surprised if they are called terrorists. I don’t think they are. In my opinion, the real deal breakers are the politicians trying to control this universe.

I will clap in my little fat hands if they succeed. All eyes on Saturday!

Cactus anyone?

I share an office with 9 other people at uni. I really like our office, the people and the space. It has a good vibe. I’ve moved into my office space, quite extensively (I’ll show you pictures another day). I like my space to be mine and I like there to be a little colour as well.

One of the things I like the most is to have plants inside. Those who know me from my days at Griffith University would know, that I arrive with half a garden nursery. I really enjoy the green colours and the little maintenance the plants need. Unfortunately our little office space at JCU is quite humid, has ants, roaches and a generally unfortunate indoor climate. Someone has tried to live up the space with green branches in water, but they are growing white spores underneath the leaves, which fly around the room. I’m not really sure they are safe to breathe…

We haven’t really agreed if the branches are to move out entirely yet. So far they are being washed on a regular basis. I’ve decided that they are not living on my desk. With the aircon, this is probably futile. One thing’s for sure, I’m not introducing new species.

Except for this one. I found it on someones blog about three months ago. I thought I’d book-marked the page, but I didn’t. I cannot take credit for the idea, but I did redo it from memory. It is my secret little project from the other day and I think I might just be on track with something. Is there room for development? Absolutely! But it is a start.

The basic idea is to make a cactus. It’s real easy, just a couple of tubes:

After filling them with wadding, I stuck them in with toothpicks. Easy peasy

Then I started decorating. Today I did one type of flowers, but I”m thinking butterflies, beetles, different flowers and whatever.

And for now I’m sticking them in with pins

What do you think?

And have you noticed the pictures! New editing program! Freeware! Awesome!

I swear

I’ve toned down the swearing on the blog quite a bit. It all started because my mom said she didn’t like it.  Mr Husband’s comment to this was agreement. He says that when swearing in writing, I come across as a completely different person than my normal self. Thing is: my normal self swears like a drunken sailor. Two minutes ago I exclaimed the beautiful sentence: “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckityfuckfuck” and kept walking. It just happens.

But apparently my personality shines right through this…

The other night I saw (most of) a program with Stephen Fry who has made a program series on language; in this program: swearing (it runs on SBS). It involved international language experts, Harvard professors included, and made my hair grow long before the end*. But I did pick up a couple of fascinating details. Swearing occurs in all languages. In one tribe in Africa ‘you donkey’s dick’ was common (I like that one). Second, swearing happens from a spontaneous place in the brain. Even if we don’t let it out, it still happens. The third point, which was connected to the second, had to do with what happens to your language when you have a stroke. Quite a few people lose their language when they have a stroke. The first words to come back are the spontaneous ones. For a large percentage this is the swear words. There we were, with Mrs Marble incarnate and her husband who had a stroke 14 years before . For the longest time after the stroke he could only swear at her. I got so many visions.

Royal Doulton: Fuck!
Lovely roses: Piss off!
Cucumber sandwich Dear? Up yours!
Cup of tea? you get my point

And then I realised: I cannot have a stroke. It just can not happen. I will become the fowlest person walking if that happened to me. It is the extra motivation I need to do something about the kilos that just happen when you turn 35. Why are you on a diet Signe? “I can’t risk it. I swear”


*Danish metaphor which means I gave up and went to bed

It’s done

I’ve decided. It’s done! No more.
I kept thinking that an extra round of green would be good, had actually planned to start it this evening. Then I saw it lying on the sofa this morning

It’s done. I’m sure now. It’s ready for tea and cookies and ‘the killing’ on SBS 2. I might have to turn the aircon on to warrent sitting with a blanket, but if that is what I have to do, that is what I have to do. At least for one night… just to test it.

It border ended up looking like this

… and the final blanket looks like this. Two months of work. It is definitely worth it.


My arms are too short

I speak three languages every day – Danish, English and Italian. I’ve sort of gotten use to it, though the hard disk breaks down every now and then. Most days I don’t even think about it. I’ve written about how frustrating it can be, but sometimes it can be equally funny. The most fun comes from metaphors and general sayings.

I don’t know many non-English speakers that didn’t giggle over the phrase “when the shit hits the fan” the first time they heard it; the visual is amazing. Some phrases just do not make sense. Like “he’s sweating like a pig” – we discussed that one quite a bit in our household; pigs don’t sweat. We’ve changed it into “sweating like a running pig”.

By now, I am also quite adventured in the Italian sayings (one of my favorite is “He shat outside of the bucket” when someone does/says something stupid). But not always. Like this morning:

Me: I’m making porridge, do you want some?
Mr Husband: hmmrrrgghmm OK
Me (out of sympathy because he hates porridge): would you like a cafe latte with it?
Mr Husband: I don’t want to drink milky coffee with a milky breakfast
Me: but I make the porridge with water
Mr Husband: that’s because your arms are too short!

I will leave it to you, to guess what that is all about!