Movember

Alas November has ended, the time when the hunk-o-spunks try and grow and tease their bum fluffy upper lips into discernable 'taches. Alas, because at the end of 'Movember' the lithe, nubile young boys have to shave off their creations in aid of charity.

Yes November is certainly the month of the moustache. I have spent countless days fawning over some forty year old waiter with a magnum-esque tache or giggled girlishly at the bravery of the twenty year old who was only able to cultivate the 'hitler' in the somewhat absence of the testosterone hormone!

We have to remember that this is all in aid of a prostate cancer charity and it amazes me that the UK hasn't taken up this opportunity to impress their local lasses with their impressive handlebars or curly spiv's!

So come on fellas, don a tache, collect some charity money and go visit your GP for a 'once over up your bum'!

(God I still love Magnum... as Jim once told me, 'once you have a man with chest hair, a nudie chest is so not fair!)

Sneaky Buggers

Was driving home this morning from night shift number one. I had been awake for exactly 26 hours and fifteen minutes (flipping parrots woke me up at 05.45 yesterday and then our neighbour decided to attack his trees with a chainsaw at 07.45-does no one sleep in in this country?) and I was singing along to Robert Smith in a bid to keep myself awake for the eight minute journey.

As I roared over the crest of the hill I was trying to overtake a road train (very long truck with trailers galore) and something caught my eye. A little man was crouched down behind a tree with something in his hand. As I approached he pounced out from behind the tree waving something which looked like a big black shiny gun in his hand. I went from sleepy singalongs to bewilderment to terror before recognising the gun was in fact a speed camera. The bulb flashed, blinded me temporarily and I clocked my spedo at 72 km/h.

Two k's over the speed limit! Bloody nazis.

In the UK I have only ever been caught speeding once and that was when I was overtaking a lamborghini in my peugeot 106. The police must have had such a laugh over it that they 'let me off' (officially a technical difficulty with the admin). That day I was clocked doing 94 miles an hour.

I wouldn't have minded but this is the third time I've been flashed in the last four weeks! Am destined to not hold onto my licence for much longer at this rate!

Roaches

I can't post today, I have to wash every single piece of crockery I own.

This morning I opened my cupboard to fish out a bowl for my cereal and lying in the middle of the bowl with his legs in the air and tongue hanging out of the side of his ugly mouth was a dead cockroach!

(shudder)

The house is once again amidst a fog of bug-killer!

Rock It

Next week Dave and I are off for a lovely day trip to Joondalup Stadium to see these guys. They are jolly nice fellows that sing traditional and modern Christian tunes and always polish their shoes. We shall picnic on strawberries and drink bubbly whilst reclining on our blackwatch tartan rug..

....or maybe not!

The mini-festival is showcasing The Foofs (see above), Kaiser Chiefs, Oasis and many local Rrrrooock bands.

Am so exicted am nearly peeing myself with anticipation. I haven't been like this since Paul and I went to see Polly Jean last year in Cambridge.

Whats more is that Dave has managed to get us VIP tickets. His brother in law runs another stadium in Perth and they give each other VIP tickets as a friendly gesture. He has no interest in the many tattoos of Davey and his friends so he has given his tickets to us.

Am thinking that VIP means sitting on Dave Grohls lap whilst stroking his beard and interviewing him for position of pool boy in our mansion when it gets completed (sorry Spunky but you've just had too long to forward me your CV so Grohly wins!) Will probably drink one too many complimentary pimms and slip off his lap making Dave G save me from falling at his feet but unable to save himself from falling in love with me (I know, he's married. I can dream though). Of course it helps that my boys name is Dave too. It means I won't get caught mixing up their names! Dave M need never know about my elopement with the Grohl-meister.

However in reality, 'VIP tickets' probably just means that we can go through to another cordoned off area where there is another tiny bar and an extra toilet. I will be hanging out with executives, competition winners and fifteen year old girls who have sneaked in through the back thinking that it is an actual VIP Rock Star area!

...now I just have to figure out just what to wear. It's becoming unbearably hot here. Do you think it's in poor taste to shave my heid and turn up in a bikini?

Turkmenistan

(Niyazov not lip-synching to 'My Heart Will Go On' by Celine Dion)

I want to move to Turkmenistan. The president there is a dude and totally 'gets' what people need from a country these days.

Not only has this self-proclaimed life long dictator banned lip-synching he has banned beards and gold capped teeth.

Where was Tony Blair or John Howard when these decisions were being made? Surely they are relevant to Oz and Blighty also?

I have lived my whole life to live in a country where Girls Aloud could get a jail sentence for miming the words to their latest dross song. And the end to chav-tastic rapper gold teeth? Well, just slap my arse and sign me up!

Although I do have a certain weakness for a nice beard, especially when they tickle!! Maybe Oz can keep me for a wee while longer!

Big Trees and Twenty Foot Waves

A massive wave at Denmark. The power of the ocean was unbelievable. The photo does not do it justice. The swell was at least twenty feet!



Greens pool (where you get the sharks but not in the bay bit!!). You can just see the tops of the waves crashing over the huge rocks that surround the bay. They act as a breakwater and so by the time the waves roll in and onto the beach they have been reduced to gently lapping at the sand!



The magnificent Gloucester Tree. Sixty metres tall. It was originally used for bush fire spotting. The idea being a fit young fellow would climb the tree and locate where in the forest a fire was wreaking havoc.



...If it was up to me though, the fire would have burned its way through the entire forest before I had got to the top of the tree! There are no safety ropes or guides to ensure we don't fall to our death. The tree just has metal rods inserted into the tree which climb upwards in a spiral. Some parts of the climb are vertical and some parts you have to navigate around branches and 'bouncy' rods (so not safe!)



Dave and me at the top looking very scared! Its a long way down. On the way up we had to pass a couple who were climbing down. It took much dangling by one foot to shimmy our way past them. The ladder became very cosy for a few minutes whilst we played a version of twister on the tree!

Weren't we brave?

Parrots

This little old man gave us bird seed to feed the parrots with. He was a ranger in the National Park until his MS worsened forcing him to retire. He now spends most days in the park giving people the opportunity to feed the birds and experience them first hand.
I love little old men!!



Davo's new best friend. All he needs now is a wooden leg.



My greedy little buggers.



A la mode!



The red one is a rosella and the green one is a 28. When I asked Dave why they were called 28's he replied 'Because that's what you shoot them with'!

I hope he was joking!

Two Chinese Students With Too Much Time...

The funniest thing I have been sent in a while. Poor deluded boys!!

With thanks to Martin for sending it.

Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot! Areeeeba!

32 degrees today!

I went to the beach to try and shake off the final remants of my Scottish Tan. My legs are starting to regain a non-death colour at last! However it's just highlighting the flourescence of my other white bits! I could guide people through the darkness with my luminous white boobs!

My local beach is Leighton Beach. Immaculate white sands, just enough surf to have fun in and the most turqouise waters I have ever seen. As I laid my day-glo pink towel out on the sand I had an overwhelming feeling to tear off my tshirt and jump into the water. To hell with the sharks and jellyfish. The water was so refreshing and clear it made my nerves disappear almost immediately. I can't remember when I started to get scared of the water. Maybe It wasn't until the shark stories began to circulate (however I've always been irrationally afeard of seaweed!?). Anyway I am now realising that the sharks are the fashion police of the sea. The last few attacks have all been on people with either a; buck teeth and a non retro eighties fashion sense or b; a beer gut and a comb-over (I mean, who could possible think that a comb-over will stop people from noticing a baldy heid?)

Well I'm almost conquering my fear of the water now. After a few minutes of trying to body surf the waves and rolling around like a mermaid I remembered how much of a water baby I used to be and I bathed in that glorious feeling that only swimming in the great unknown can give you. In my area of the beach there wasn't a soul to be seen except for an old hippy surfer dude in his sixties sporting a ZZ Top-esque beard. After a few minutes of not catching any waves he started paddling away from me. Well I think it was to do with the lack of surf. It could have been that he was a little scared of the squealing coming from the born again mermaid ten metres up the beach. I realise that I would have looked less 'mental' if I was swimming with someone but according to Aussies it's still spring and therefore far too chilly to go swimming still! So alas I had to experience this alone.

I made sure that I didn't stray into the midnight blue areas of the sea and stuck with the clear 'see all the way to the bottom' turqouise bits. Maybe next time I'll swim further. Or maybe not!! When I had exhausted every squeal and giggle I tried to exit the Indian Ocean in a bond girl manner but probably looked more like a shipwrecked survivor clambouring onto the sands in a 'one more step before I collapse' way! I fell onto my towel and started to sunbake.

There is a typical Western Australia joke which goes along the lines of when you get off the plane in Perth each passenger receives fifty complimentary flies which shall be their companion throughout their stay in WA. I hadn't believed it until today!

Every time I lay still for a second, twenty tiny flies and bugs descended on me like a fat kid on a cup cake. I ended up looking like an epileptic convulsing each time I could feel the pitter patter of teeny fly feet on my skin. I looked around me at the other people on the beach. They were all lying motionless and dignified looking. Maybe it was just me. Did I smell? Did I now stink of fish guts after bathing in the lavatory of the sea-world? It was enough to give myself a complex. I eventually tried ignoring them and it worked a little. Next time though I shall be taking a super-size can of Raid with me to the beach. Lets see then who thinks they are the tough flies!

I spent a couple of hours reading and listening to the waves crashing onto the bleached sands before packing up my stuff to leave. I didn't want to outstay my welcome and end up looking like a Brit Abroad with lobster shoulders and white strap marks. I'm an Aussie now remember! The sand being soft and silky beforehand had now turned molten and was not only burning my feet but sucking them down deeper into the beach with each step. This prolonged the agony of the walk across the beach back to my car and by the time the beach eventually let me go I was sporting third degree burns to my legs up to my ankles! Next time I'll wear flippers across the steaming sands.

However there is nothing like the slightly scorched feeling of your newly freckled skin and the smell of coconut from the sunscreen to make you think you are on holiday. It once again reminded me of how lucky I am to have been given this opportunity to live in this paradise.

It's flipping marvellous here and I now have the not so hard task to try and tempt you over to taste the Aussie delights yourself. Anyone need a holiday?

Tickle Sticks and Hot Tubs

Well it's time to regale you with stories of my fabulous holiday. Grab your bikini and sit down!

Australia, how do I love thee? Let me count the waves.

We spent five days down in the south west of Western Australia. It's country known for its turquoise waters, fine wineries and flipping big trees. Dave and I experienced them all. In fact by the end of the holiday the owner of the chalets pouted that she hadn't even laid eyes on us, her lost sheep guests!

I took that as a sign that we didn't squander any precious time of the holiday.

In fact Renata stated that she was upset because she hadn't even presented us with our 'magic tickle sticks' due to us being 'out of town' every time she went down to meet us! The tickle sticks were for us to make wishes with. Mine was a golden wand with a gold star with sequins stuck on it. Dave's was a long stick with two ruby red feathers jutting out at jaunty angles. The only diference between our wands powers were that I had three wishes where as Dave only had one..... and he had to promise to do the dusting afterwards!!

I'll let you into a secret. When it comes to wishes you only need the one. If you wish to be completely happy then there is no need to wish for money, power, love etc because if you are completely happy then everything else will just fall into place. And if you don't get the rich husband, who cares, you're happy so you can't complain!!

Anyway after greeting us with a freshly baked loaf of bread, we were bombarded with instructions on how to use the microwave (as if we would need that!), barbeque (with gas bottles that I had to lug from the cage around the corner whilst wearing my flowery pj's), wood burning fire (it gets cold in the country at night) and hot tub (my faaave). After a couple minutes of gorging on the still warm bread we decided that enough was enough.... the wine would probably be cold enough to drink. Well if we added a couple of ice cubes to the glass anyway! Dave turned on the hot tub to a balmy 40 degrees and we hopped in.

I spent every morning and evening in that hot tub. I drank many a glass of chilled local wine and read 'The Time Travellers Wife' in there. And I only got the corner of the book wet twice! The hot tub overlooks the lake as you can see from the picture. Dave spent his time trying to catch the sneaky clever fish in the lake. They have been trained so well that they are accomplished in the art of removing the bait without hooking themselves on the big pointy metal thing running through the bait! I silently cheered on the fish. We also canoed around the lake trying to search for the swamp monster but catching tagglefish instead (roots of trees!).

Bliss is a hot tub and a glass of wine!

Dolphins

On my ride home from work today I saw the most gorgeous sight. Seven dolphins were swimming and flipping their tails at me from no more than six metres away from me. They were so close that I could practically look into their spout hole on the top of their heads!

I knew I moved here for a reason!

Number of...

• kangaroos spotted: 36
• parrots fed: 6,320,000
• seconds I had phone reception: 12
• trees climbed: 1 (bloody big tree though)
• days I couldn't walk for aching btm muscles after aforementioned tree climb: 2
• hot-tubs taken: 8
• snakes seen: 2 (although one was dead and the other was dying....well if they will insist on crossing a busy road!!)
• roadkill: 4 (one snake, one echidnea, one possum, one kangaroo)
• bottles of wine drunk: 15 (we had no telly!)
• books read in the hot tub: 1 (The Time Travellers Wife- thanks Hazel for the tip)
• photos taken: 83 (watch out for I shall probably post them in the next few days)
• canoe trips around the lake: 2
• fish caught: 0
• fish that got away: 4
• cockroaches fed to the ducks: 1
• kilometres travelled: 2100
• winerys visited: 2
• different ways to describe a sample of wine which all tasted very similar: 6 (woody, smooth, fruity, depth, light and accented....not sure we pulled it off!)
• oceans visited: 2 (southern and indian)

All in all it was a very busy but relaxing holiday! I'll tell you all about it tomorrow!

Paris Burns...

...but only when she pee's!

Heaven is a Holiday

(Dave and me inside a giant tingle!!)
This weekend dave and I are going to this place. We haven't had a break since we got here (yes, I know that the whole of my life is one big holiday now that I'm living in paradise) and I'm gagging for a weekend away to explore the country that I'm now living in.

The place we're going to is called Donnelly Lakes and is set on (wait for it..) Donnelly Lake! It's located in the deepest darkest depths of South West Australia where the giant tingle trees grow and the kangaroos roam free.

Our chalet is romantically situated on the lakeside and no where near any other chalet thus ensuring complete privacy. In reality, the only reason Dave and I'll need privacy is for when we get hideously drunk on pink champagne and dance around the verandah singing Cold Chisel at two in the morning! We do have a hot tub on the verandah overlooking the lake so I can sip bubbly whilst bathing in bubbly. Also we will have our very own canoe tied to the verandah stilts for our use. The lake is stocked with trout so Dave will probably sit in the middle of the lake all day fishing. He'll love this as I won't be able to come over and annoy him when he's contemplating the theory of life or whatever fishermen do in the middle of trout lakes!

One of patients has put 'the willies' up me by stating that Pemberton was a lovely place....

'Really beautiful....just watch out for the flies this time of year.'

'Oh and make sure you have mossie repellent. They can get you through your jeans you know!'

'And the snakes will be coming out by about now too. I've seen some that are three metres long. Tiger snakes, duguits and big black ones'

'Though I'm sure you won't be bothered by them. They'll probably be more scared of you and will try and run away. Unless they are running in your direction of course'

'Is there a hospital near there? They should have anti-venom in little country hospitals I guess. It's a long way back to Perth though so be careful.'

'There's a nice beach close by too. Just mind to swim in the inshore bit cos there's hundreds of sharks around!'

Am feeling very confident now!

Horses

(myself and Dave's mates race horse "Champy")

Yesterday it was the Melbourne Cup. 'The race that stops a nation'.

I forgot to watch it. I was too busy hoovering!

Horse racing is a big thing over here. I've only ever been to the races in Australia. Never in Blighty. Oh well, I guess the weather is a big part of that reason. There is no flipping way I would stand in the driving rain acquiring frost-bitten toes watching some pony trot around a muddy field. But if you mention a day of sunshine, beer and winning big bucks then I'm in!

The first horse I bet on I won. I chose him not because of it's immaculate breeding or shiny coat but because it was called Chaka Khan. Thinking of Chaka always takes me back to the night Ali, Nicky, Nat and I saw Chaka in Ibiza. She was fabulous and was singing her little heart out on stage wearing one of those all in one lacy body stockings! Tres eighties! Such good memories. Anyway I won eight bucks betting on chaka and there began my 'Natalie Code of Winning'

Rules:

1. Always scan the names of the horses and if one jumps out immediately then pick it.
2. If no names jump out then go to the mounting paddock and look at the jockeys and their legs. My theory is the jockey with the shortest legs will always do best as they have less distance from hip to knee to bob up and down meaning their rythm will be quicker thus spurring the horse on faster!
3. If legs and names don't cut it then always fall back on the jockey wearing the gaudiest colours. It'll blind and distract the naturally fashion concious horses into keeping a distance between them and the gaudy (none of us like to stand next to someone wearing fluorescent pink and green do we?)

Anyway I applied the rules to the Melbourne Cup and I came up with 'Makybe Diva'. I liked the name and was determined to bet on it. Until I found out that he had won the past two years. Thats not fair so I withdrew my support from the diva.

Big mistake, huge!

The diva won for the third year running making history and wheelbarrows full of money. Always, always go for your first instinct!

Every workplace has a sweepstake and the papers print out a double page poster to enable workplaces to sit around for half an hour to watch the race, critique the fashions (truck loads of feathers this year. Would have liked to have seen all the ladies five hours later when they were rolling drunk and inadvertantly tickling passers-by with their hiccupping feathers!) and gorge themselves silly on chocolate cake. The public are trying to force the government to proclaim Melbourne Cup day as another bank holiday so people don't have to go into work! Genius.

For our sweepstake I picked eyepopper out of the bag. He lost! My winning streak is probably over.