Apparently, it only takes 8 clicks on a stun gun to knock you out cold.
The other day I had a conversation at work with my boss and a consultant we work with about childhood adventurousness. (Spell check tells me that adventurousness IS a word) Bear in mind, they are both men. They began with typical childhood games increasing in dangerousness incrementally and had settled on inhaling helium from a tank because it’s better, (Why better? You ask. Because there’s MORE.) when all of a sudden…
Consultant: Did you know it takes 8 clicks on a stun gun to knock you unconcious?
Me & Boss: …?
Consultant: No really, we used to play with it. You get quite a buzz! (A-hyuk)
Boss: Are you SERIOUS?
Me: Wait! Wait! How did you determine that?
Me: Is there like a warning on the label? In the event of self-use, 8 clicks and you WILL lose consciousness. Do not use in shower.
Boss: *Choking on laughter*
Me: *Cracking up so hard I can barely talk* Can you imagine? I can see it now! Click. Nope. Click. Nope. Click. Nope. Click… yep, that did it.
Boss to me: THIS is the guy were counting on for the project.
I realize that boys are stupid in general and dangerous in little bursts but this was a bit excessive. The thing is… I want to test the theory… Any volunteers?
Standing in front of the home hair dye aisle at the store this weekend, I did the flip back and forth over blond or red, blond or red?
Blond. I decided because I am a hairdresser, rather adept at home dying, just that stupid.
So, home I go with a home bleaching kit, dye and toner.
4 hours later, my hair is an intriguing shade of banana yellow and tangerine orange. No amount of bleach or toner is ridding me of the reddish tones not to mention that the light colour washes me out completely anyway. So I do the walk of shame.
You know it, the mad dash from the car to the all night pharmacy with Coco the Clown hair tucked under a baseball cap because it is simply TOO embarrassing to be seen with banana hair and orange highlights (lowlights?)
I debate endlessly whether or not I want to bring the pharmacist in on my humiliation while I stand perusing the aisle once again. Now I don’t know if I choose the red colour I had originally contemplated, it will turn my hair red or pink, so I cave and ask the pharmacist. Who doesn’t know!
It’s not enough that I have to come clean to her; she goes and asks EVERYBODY ELSE in the store if they know what to do. Nobody does. So she looks it up online and comes back assuring me that as long as I go darker, it should be fine.
So I wind up buying the exact shade that I was looking at in the first place when I debated the red-blond issue.
I’m a red head. It looks OK but my hair feels like a horse’s mane for all the shit I put in it this weekend. Now I need a haircut really badly.
I wonder if I should go shoulder length or really short? Bet I could cut it myself….
This was one of the 4 boarding schools in New Norcia. At the time, they were segregated. White girls, aboriginal girls, white boys, and aboriginal boys all run by nuns and monks.
Apparently a artist was commissioned to make this piano with the little ivory that the monks had in their possession. Because there was such a scarcity of ivory at the time, there was not enough to make the traditional keys, so they are reversed. Ivory on the top instead.
One of the many churches in New Norcia (St Gertrude’s I think)
My favorite image… this alter and the ceiling mural were exquisite!
Ironically, after flying 15000 km to live in Perth 5 years ago, it took a trip to New Norcia to meet another Canadian! A woman from Saskatchewan who also holds a pretty big interest in photography (as did her partner.) This commonality resounded with all of us and we spent most of the afternoon together having a drink and a laugh after the tour ended. As you can see in this next image of one of the boarding schools, the day was pretty much overcast and what looked to be a pretty decent storm was on the way!
By the time 6:30 rolled around, I knew I should head back. With 2 hours driving ahead of me, I didn’t want to be caught in the storm or the dark really, with the road under quite a bit of construction (I.e. red gravel blocks off an on, slowing to 40km and then up to 110km.) As is turned out, the storm seemed to have preceded me, leaving tree branches, bushes and gum nuts all over the road making the drive just a smidgen longer as I avoided the debris and slowed over the gum nuts so as not to
go flying off a cliff skating all over the road slam headfirst into a land train who did NOT feel the need to slow for the gumnuts.
I was almost home when I saw the sunset over the ocean. WOW! I couldn’t bear making the left turn towards home without stopping to get a shot of the technicolour sky! I convinced myself that abandoning my kids for 10 minutes more wouldn’t scar them for life (or at least not that badly) and headed to the beach.
Sorry for the scars kids, but this ones a framer!
The news has been filled with horror stories of fire moving at over 100km an hour trapping people in thier cars as they flee, entire neighbourhoods razed to the ground and the surviviors who now have nowhere to live, no money and the memories of those lost in the flames.
The other day,I had a conversation with connor that went like this:
Connor: “Can I have my Christmas money?” (50 dollars he gave to me for safe keeping)
Me: “What for? Did you find something you want to buy? I thought you were saving it.”
Connor: ” I want to give it to the Bush Fire Rescue fund for the people who lost everything in the fire”
Me: “…” Choking up with emotion that my 13 year old has such compassion. “Of course you can have it. I’ll take you tomorrow to give it in.”
So, yesterday, we went over to the mall and made a$50.00 donation in Connor’s name. He has a receipt for taxes and everything…lol I was so proud,that I had to hide the embarrassing tears that came to my eyes (embarassing for him… not me.)
It is such a good feeling when your child does the right thing, simply because it is the right thing to do.
Well done, Connor!
Who framed Robin?
Originally uploaded by She’ll Be Apples