Friday, September 30, 2011

On Repeat

Into Dust, - Mazzy Star.

Yeah - Gears of War commercial (don't be fooled, I am not a gamer).  Completely beautiful.  Strange advertising concept but I think they have a winner.  Last years totally brought back Mad World.

"It was you, breathless and torn, I could feel my eyes turning into dust"

The instrumental in the background (I would go ahead and call guitar, but I'm just not sure) is completely lovely.

And I love the hipsters all being "I liked it before it was on a TV ad, therefore your appreciation for it is worth less than mine, and that...verifies my sense of self worth" all over the internets.

You kids crack me up.

Thursday, September 29, 2011


Just a short break before I finish a paragraph and run home for some fresh air, dog-walkin' styles, and some kai.  Marvellous, beautiful, belly-warming kai.


The eye lid is twitching again.

And I had a thought - chocolate industry profits must take a jump every time a PhD student commits to writing their thesis - the most effective motivator is the chocolate-promise.

"If you finish this section and that one, you can have chocolate at afternoon tea."

"If you finished that whole part in yellow highlighter there, you can have chocolate at half 5"

"If you complete everything but that single-gene mutation stuff before you go home, you can have chocolate for desert"

And as such, (also aiding in my world-dominating procrastination plans) the dog is getting walked for at least an hour every day.

Trouble is loving this thesis business.  I have also taken to grabbing pet-breaks when writing in the evenings - the animals are asleep in the lounge with a couch each and I write at the table in the kitchen, so, when I need a moment, I sneak in to the other room and give them head-noogies just for fun.  Then a good neck scratchin' and then a cuddle, and then I get knifed in the guts with a claw or a paw and I go back to work.


Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Every now and again

You get bored and hit the Google.

Farm Girl has one.  Jealous.
Little Mermaid fish jaw ring.
Hardware awesomeness.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Should be

Poor Voldy, he was always misunderstood.


Monday, September 26, 2011


Its obviously the HP area in my share folder at the mo.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

On Repeat

Relaxed (relatively) Sunday

I love the intro.  In an alternate dimension, where I'm not as rock steady as a brick house who has never even heard of Christchurch, I would like to think I would expand upon the mentioned 50 ways...what (completely alien) fun.

"it's really not my habit to intrude, furthermore, I hope my meaning won't be lost or misconstrued, but I'll repeat myself at the risk of being crude, there must be fifty ways to leave your lover"

Perhaps a song some people should take more note of.  No excuse to be stuck in a shitty relationship sweeties.

Also, strangely, since I disliked her cutsie style the first time I heard it on C4, the chorus of Celia is quite stuck in my subconscious.


TCO had her Spring Solstice party last night, and I am the type of person who fully believes in taking a wee gift for the hostess.  Usually favouring flowers, I have been working on something spesh instead.

TCO loves her garden, and learning about all the things therein, so I designed a wee necklace with a vial of assorted wild flower seeds.  Always a fan of unusual packaging, I used a different seed packet and some ribbon to parcel it up.

I love ribbon.

The chain rattles around inside something delightful - and sounds remarkably like seeds.  So yay - here's some horrific foxglove seeds for you plant!
I always was a random child.

I scattered foxglove seeds around the roses bordering the drive at our Taupo house at some stage during my Primary School years.  I loved the beautiful big flowers but Mum and Dad struggled to get rid of the weed-like things for years.  We did a drive by at some stage, after we had moved to the great Hawkes Bay (Rock on Havelock North!) and the little bastards were still populating the garden beds - though the new owners had committed the great sin of not looking after Mum and Dads beautiful roses.  For shame.

Anyway - the necklace is thus, I hope she actually liked it:
TCO - Gardener.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I would like to repeat the sentiment

Via.  And millions of others, I can't find original credit, though if anyone I think it might be Julia's.

Weekend Animals

There was a prophecy made, a million years ago, most likely by the Hogwarts founders.  This prophecy concerned...

The Destroyer.
Found him.

Thus animal Saturdays pass in my household.  I have been collecting toy stuffing again, to send up to Trouble's Nana - so she can sew up a new toy and recycle the guts.  I might have snuck in a couple of his favourite feet - torn off toy footsies which he walks around with in the evenings whimpering, because they are so precious he cannot decide where is safe enough to stash them.

They usually end up poked in between my pillows.

So you can see why I covertly steal the little bastards.  In a rare moment of relaxed cooperation, I snapped this:
My three favourite animals.

Christ but its getting chilly.  Maybe we will see some of that forecast snow after all.


Beautiful books.

Over my long weekend I caught up with a couple of shorts I've been meaning to read for ages (though the list is so long I wonder if it counts at all).

I devoured The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, and while y'all know all of these authors, I'll go right ahead and list them anyway; Douglas Adams; Stardust, Neil Gaiman; Animal Farm, George Orwell; Coraline, Neil Gaiman again, and finally the first of his The Graveyard Book, though I haven't had a chance to finish it since coming home.

Animal Farm is one of those that 'other schools' studied though not my own, nor my mothers - and we had a wee chat about how it was subsequently one of those books you are expected to have read.

I found it disturbing. But I think that was it's purpose.

I'm really enjoying Gaiman's writing, I read Good Omens a while back and it definitely tickled my fancy. Coraline is a brilliant piece, and I wish I had read it as an impressionable and easily scared youth, though Gaiman himself says "it was a story, I learned when people began to read it, that children experienced as an adventure, but which gave adults nightmares.". Which I can very easily understand. I find myself with him as a standard (or inspiration? Not sure) for my own writing. I have also enjoyed several of the movie adaptations of the above works and am aware of the existence of others.

In a side note, Mum and I attempted to watch Gone With the Wind, which is shit. I am entirely unimpressed with heroines who constantly sabotage their own happiness with epic amounts of stupidity. I couldn't watch after the point where Scarlet has Rhett's baby and knew from synopses (blame the iPad, it was a struggle to even get that far through it) that shit only went down hill from there. Why on earth do American Southern women still aspire to such a character? How is such a story so beloved? I cannot comprehend. Complete rubbish.

Now, I am struggling with the reality that I just do not have enough hours in my day - this w/e for example, I need to clean the house, do about 3 loads of washing, bath the dog and finish a chapter of my thesis. I also have the ever present stack of books to get through, two of which are relevant to my science and are somewhat of a, unfortunately boring, priority. I also have an ongoing and very time consuming science cross-stitch project (oh but you are going to love it!), have all the fabric ready to cut and sew for my side of the sisters homesick quilt, and just received in the post a metal letter stamping kit for my Jewellery making dabbling.

So much awesome, so little time. What's a girl to do?

- via the iPod magic wand.

My Vampire Sweethearts

Are heading back into the closet for the year.

I shall miss our weekly trysts, although they have not always been good, they have been entertaining.

I have been drawing out this final read through, because tonight, it is officially over.  (what new avenue of escapism shall I employ?!  I miss my Eric already!  Though he has not been on top form this whole season, to be honest...maybe it is time I move on.  Maybe read the books though one more time... )

True Blood S04E12, final SPOILERS, sweeties, though we are so late it hardly matters.

First impressions: anticlimax abound, epic setup for S05, and very clean stitching of several plot lines - though the Tommy Micken's end will perhaps remain my favourite.

"He was a devious little son of a bitch, but somewhere in there he had a good heart."

I just have to say the whole "Eat your breakfast.  I know its not *whatever deliciousness something pigfat something you make*...but I worked hard on it"  is such a fucking emotionally manipulative piece of bullshite, I want to slap Jesus about his smug little face for having the condescending gall to utter it.  Lala (ignoring the Marnie-possession for the mo) can eat or not eat his godamn breakky whether he wants to or not, without any directive from Jesus - he is not his mother, Lafayette is not 5 years old.  And even then , if you have to resort to such borderline passive aggressive, condescending, emotional manipulation to get your kids to eat, you are doing something very fucking wrong.

Bit of a pet peeve there.  So I was quite happy with this:
Eat your own godamn runny eggs Jesus.

What on earth, is the point in having a creamer if you pour the whole lot into the first cup you make?  And you didn't stir the sugar!  Honestly Sookie, what kind of southern gentlewoman did your grandmother raise?!
There is no way to crop this to get rid of the cleavage.  Sorry.

Sam's rocking style - tie and suit jacket over a shirt with...two breast pockets?!
Do'in it cowboy style.

I love that Hoyt lays into Jason, keeping it inside would have been so much worse for him.  I also love that Jase took it - and he deserved to, the silly little boy.

I get the feeling next season Lafayette is going to have to deal with the crazy brujo left inside of him, I doubt it left with Marnie.  That'll be some dark fun and games.  Brilliant acting though, a beautiful facsimile of Marnie's mannerisms at times.
The robe really makes it.

I felt guilty for thinking that Arlene's daughter was actually knocked up for all of two seconds.  Then I remembered she was something like 10, and it was supposed to be Halloween.  I can't even begin to imagine a mothers horror at a daughter emulating such a TV character.
Portents of the trailer in your future?

Oh Terry, if only you had seen your buddies face fall.  Just what were you getting up to in the army huh?
Hey, that guy!

Sookie!  Why are you not there all ready?!
Mmmmm.  You know, I'm pretty smart...

Mother Earth's Valium.  cough.  Yeah...  Props for the Wiccan first aid kit though Holly, esp on Samhain.  Never know when you might need a shit load of salt, and its not like the purse is heavy enough at the best of times.
Perhaps not the worst way to serve up a hot vamp or two.

It must be written in the Wiccan handbook that all vamps must be burnt at the stake with their shirts off.  Unless Marnie was a fan of the eye candy (honestly, who isn't?  The paragraph entitled 'sans pants' must have been destroyed unintentionally over the ages).

Morals and faith blah blah.  Anticlimax.  "We're all alone at the end".  Well - fuck.
"Excuse me!  We're feeling a little crispy up here."

Rene has well meaning news to impart?  How unexpected!  Nice twisty-McTwist ABall, fun things a'cumin huh?  A lesson we should all take from this shit - if you see a ghost standing a ways away, chatting to you - do not shut your eyes, cause they will always be right in front of your nose when you reopen.

Oh - forgodsake, are we really going to do this?
For shame, Jessica.  The cliché is just dripping off of you.

"I've watched him seduce supermodels and princesses and spit out their bones when he is finished.  How can someone named Sookie take him away from me?!"  Oh Pam!  My heart bleeds for you sweetie!
Eric better fix this first thing next season.  The bastard.

Ah - no.  She doesn't want you to stop.

Umm - matching robes?!  And that was a bit too eager there Eric, you little puppy dog, you (freaking hilarious though.  My laughter woke the dog up.).  Blah blah I'm determined to be miserable blah soppy awkward emotion blah blah.
That shit should be in your pillow sweetheart - esp when they can hear you.  Ok, so Lala actually squeezed a tear from my eye.  Lets not speak of this again.

"I'm sober.  I'm lonely.  And I can be good to someone.  If they let me."  Jesus Christ Andy!

"I just feel like if we are too cute and cheesey, God is gonna drop a brick on our heads."  Whoop!  You go, Luna!  Y'all coupled up gross people should take note.

"If you didn't like it, I can...take direction".  Oh Jason, pure, simple gold.  Minus man points for being needy and high maintenance after though.
Dude, the shoulder jerseys back! Bro!  He totally just checked out your package!

Oh man - good things, good things!
Bring back the spinal tap!

"Hi Nan.  And gay storm troopers."  "You should be kissing his ring"  "Why bother - when your tongues already so far up his ass"  "I saw the way you both looked at her - hungry puppy dogs, slobbering over the same juicy bone"

Such a look of surprise upon your face.  Golly but that ceremonial stake has come in handy a lot this season.

Oh.  My. God.  Was Tara's quivering lip just shot off?!  I know we've all been waiting for the Debbie shooting scene, but way to change things up ABall!  The goss is that Tara is changed by the first vamp to come running at Sookie's screams, but god I hope not!
Point blank shotgun to the face while sitting on her belly is a bit brutal, even for Sookie, wonder how long it will take her to get over that one?

And that's it.  What a marathon.  See you next year True Blood!  I hope I'm watching you from a connection offshore from my little country.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Awesome Cambrian!

Written by John Palmer.  Great stuff.  Via.

Churchill & Photos

We had Poppa's Friday today and on the way over, we passed a bit of a crowd in the Union listening to a speaker - TCO exclaimed, very loudly;

"Its Winston Churchill!"

A group of school kids in uniform had obviously come down from school to watch and all whipped round to look at her, and to goggle at us cracking the fuck up.

It was actually Winston Peters and he was still talking on our way back.  We paused to listen for a mo, and heard the normal combative questions from the normal student activists, got bored and carried on back to work.

I wish it had been Churchill.


I have finally finished manipulating my photos from the Conf trip to Queenstown at the beginning of the month, and have loaded them up on Flickr (click through for full self promotion.  Ha.).  Qtown and Bannockburn.

I think my favourite might be this one (or: or: or: or: - you get the picture):
Mountain Spring Sneeze Pods Fluffy Live in the cloud Sky Interrupted Fairies underneath

Thursday, September 22, 2011

On the spring beach of my soul

I was up north last weekend (long w/e; might have been Weds through Monday inclusive...) for a late birthday present for the mother, a final breath of fresh air for me, and to let Trouble meet his...uncle?  The parents new puppy at any rate - a wee miniature schnauzer with the most adorable elfin face.  The dogs wore each other out completely and now Trouble is bored in my small house and yard with only a grumpy cat (who acts more like a dog than any I have ever seen, despite Trouble's lamentations, Logan does actually play with him a lot) - and missing his Nanna's premium dog food.

So that's why I've been quiet (bar scheduled internet awesomesauce); I only booted up the beast to transfer songs for their new iPad (*grumble*) and that was it.  It was beautiful.  There's just something about being at The Beach that soothes my brain.  My eyelid didn't twitch once while I was away, and first day back it was hammering out the Morse code again like crazy.  Sigh.

Drove to Rotorua on the Friday to pick up the father from a work do, then carried on up to Tauranga to visit their new Spotlight and Cafe 88 at the Mount (there's a personal connection, and I have heard so much about it, but was the last family member to actually get there); absolutely moan-inducingly good food (New fabric and Coffee/Food; you can't say our priorities aren't in order).

The fabric hunting resulted in the sewing up of two new skirts on the Sunday (I swear Mum's sewing room has time slowers on it - the machines all permanently set up and the overlocker already threaded with white (don't ask how many times I have broken Mum's machines with my overenthusiasticness; its embarrassing.) make so much more possible in a shorter timespan), which I haven't even had a chance to iron yet, but how darling is the strawberry print?!  And the floral prints in this season are just making me swoon - I'm a plannin' a new quilt project for Chrissie! (which is only a short week this year, what with all that stuff happening that we aren't going to talk about right now *coughthesisfinishingcough*)
The weird looking foot?  Not mine...

We picked up some Heilala natural Vanilla extract at a gourmet food market in Tauranga on the Friday as well, and Mum and I experimented with it for the rest of the weekend - Mum whipped up a vanilla polenta and almond meal cake the first night, then vanilla sponge topped bottled peach and black plum pudding the next (her own bottling, of course), and then I made wee vanilla cupcake-type-things (think muffin pan, only half rounds instead of cup depressions.  I'm sure it has some fancy name) with a drop of vanilla glaze and a couple of shards of sliced almond to garnish.  Brilliant good fun.  

The (bee keeping) brother came up on Friday night, and Saturday's roast dinner was like a lab meeting - talking about bees.  God but that was an epic roast too - I miss being a kid!  (If there's one thing I have never been able to do in the kitchen, its cook a decent roast - I just don't have the spark.  Give me a good juicy bit of steak and I'll sear off the edges and have it hot and bloody on your plate in no time, but ask a roast of me?  No show, I'm afraid.)

Back to the baking - we found the vanilla to have a nicer flavour - but to be less intense than the fake stuff we all bake with normally.  You need to use at least twice as much of the real to get the same intensity of flavour - but the subtlety of it, and the obviously natural kick, was sublime.  Pity I have to go back to imitation till I am rich and successful. (Science, Ha!)

I snuck several jars of Dad's bottled passion fruit out of the preserves cabinet (how unfair is it that they can even grown passion fruit vines up there?!) and cracked one open tonight to make The Baby One's birthday cake for tomorrow.
Basic pound cake with the preserve beaten into the creamed butter/sugar/egg, then glazed with warm butter and more preserve icing, and then topped with some leftover raw preserve for colour and the final intense smack-in-the-face-of-flavour.  Excessive?  Never!  Smelling like heaven?  Absolutely! (and I'm not a big fan of the passion at all - its the little seeds, they weird me out).
My bundt pan is shit, so it looks like a ring instead, so lets go with that - look at my perfect cake ring! Heh.  The cream cheese pound cake turned out to be such a new favourite of mine, I hope this new plain pound cake recipe is just as good.  Though I'm teaching in the morning, so I might have to fight for a crumb.

Science is art

Scanning Electron Microscope pics of things, like feather:
And Sprinkles! Whoop!
They've been making the rounds (OK, so I'm slow and it was a month or so ago: Meh), so via all the usual suspects.  By Caren Alpen Fine Art.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Epic music vid

Mad props, boys.

Via, and everyone else.  Love it.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Future house, again

Via madscientistnz, surprisingly - close to home (hint: its the 'nz' part).  Unknown origin.

Monday, September 19, 2011