Tag Archives: the lounge

The Garden

Welcome to The Lounge for another week.

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This week it’s all about Power.

The links are below.

Our neighbours are mad keen gardeners.  

Mr and Mrs Robo, on the other hand,  are a bit younger, so we aren’t as earnest yet.  We’re getting there.  I predict that gardening will feature more prominently in our lives as we grow older.  



Gardening can be boring at times, especially if it’s tiring, repetitive work.  But there is a great sense of satisfaction to be gained from an afternoon in the yard.  


And no-one denies you a few cold beers throughout the day.



A few weekends ago Mr Robo had an epic gardening session. It involved hiring a lopping crew to remove some damaged trees.


What resulted was a mound of mulch that took up most of our front yard.



Our gardener neighbours spotted the mulch pile and we offered it to them.

This began another epic session of moving the mulch to their yard.



Our gardener neighbours wanted the mulch to re-pot their orchid collection.   To say thank you for the hundreds of dollars worth of free bark, they gave us one of their orchids.  Mr Robo gave them one of our cold beers.



I don’t know a great deal about orchids but if I have any questions I will ask my neighbours.

Nature encourages communication.  It can create the most wonderful conversations and build beautiful relationships.



Nature is a great teacher.    Nature is a wonderful companion.    Nature is all-consuming.    Nature is God.    Nature is about discovery.    Nature is about giving.



Nature is a powerful thing.

The power of the garden should not be underestimated.



Garden much?



Robo X


You look hot today, like a sunrise

I love summer.



I love that I can chuck on my flowing florals and Havaianas and call it an outfit.  I don’t care if my hem lines are a bit shorter than usual, or my fabric choices slightly more transparent than I’d normally wear.


I love that my main accessory is sunnies.



I like it when my freckles appear and my hair lightens a shade or two.  I embrace my summer bun coiffure and I don’t fight with my natural curl.






I don’t curse my dry summer skin or the close attention I pay to de-fuzzing and moisturising.



Dangers aside, I love when the sun beats down on my shoulders and when finding shade is such relief. I love it when the sun goes away but the heat lingers into the night.



I get a few pedis in the summer.  I wear colour in the summer.  I drink sav blanc in the summer.  I’m happier in the summer.



I eat better, stay more hydrated, rise earlier and feel healthier.

I come alive in the summer.



Like Rhonda.






This year my summer is starting earlier than usual, with a week up on the GC.



Yep, the Robos are heading north for a bit of fun in the Queensland sun.  A pre-summer escape for my Ketut and I, after fairly hectic and shitty episode in life.



Although I blog anonymously, if you notice a tired looking, floral-clad mother, with a couple of varicose veins on her right thigh and a bit of a winter muffin top, I invite you to crack a smile.



If could very well be me.



Linking up as always with my Lizards in The Lounge, this week over at Falling Face First.



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Robo X

The Bacon Post About Teaching

I’ve been thinking about writing a blog post for The Lounge linky tomorrow, the one about bacon, but forgive me kids, I have nothing to say about life these days, or bacon, for that matter.


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I do, on the other hand, have something to say about teaching.

My work has consumed me. More than most terms.


I am spent.  Physically and mentally blotto from the last week of teaching.


Actually, the next person who says to me that teachers have it easy because of the school holidays, will be told to go and get farkadoodledooed.


say it to my face



What a term!  Nine weeks felt more like nine months.


This was term 2 which meant reports, parent-teacher nights, subject choices for year ten, work experience, endless days away on excursions and the general day to day classroom activity that never lets up.





Ill-informed parents and citizens often scoff at the role of the teacher because of our ‘time off’.

“You have the best holidays!”





But teaching is one of those jobs where everything needs to be done in your own time.  So it isn’t really a ‘short day’.



Seriously, until one walks in the shoes of a teacher, one should keep all opinions to oneself.




Our feet hurt.



Do you know a fab teacher?

Toot that horn yo!




Robo X


Don’t forget to check out all the awesomeness at our link-up this week over at Slapdash Mama.


My Favourite Ranter

Welcome to The Lounge for another week.

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I’m very happy to be hosting once again.

This week’s all about the angry pants.  Pop them on, settle in, get comfortable.

You can add your link below.

Today I won’t be engaging you with a tirade…

In the spirit of ranting, allow me to introduce to you the person who ranted best.


I tell you confidently, that he was the finest ranter of all time, managing to hit any nail on its head with a simple sentence.



Comedian Bill Hicks


Bill used the blackest of black comedy to tell his truths.

Purposeful.  Satirical.  Critical.  

Delivered in his own unique style.


War.  Politics.  Children.  Advertising.  Travel.  Guns,  Smoking.  Marijuana.  Psychedelic mushrooms.  Religion.  Society.  Media.  Sexuality.  Consumerism.  Television.  Smoking.  The military.  America.


The list of topics he covered was extensive.



Bill Hicks passed away in the nineties at the age of 32.  Cancer.

Even today, especially today, the work of Bill Hicks is relevant.



Here he is, completely out of context…





I wish Bill was still alive.

I’d love to know his views on all the new stuff in our world.  Twitter, Facebook, blogging, politics, the internet, new types of

terror, reality television…


When I find myself shaking my head at the dynamics of society, I often wonder, What would Bill think?



The best way to experience Bill’s rants and stand-up is on audio CD, he was a very musical and theatrical ranter.

There’s plenty on YouTube as well.







Whose rants do you enjoy?


Robo X

The Day I Met a Talking Pig



Hands up if you have you ever had a public hissy fit?  Not a garden variety, standard spit, but a real cracker, one where you went right off your Barry Crocker?


I‘ll go first….



A lifetime ago, Man and I used to shop in the city for his business suits.  Suit expeditions meant a chance to drop some serious, pre-kids cash.  Suits for him always meant something new for me too. So one Saturday, with good moods intact, we headed to a specific store he knew about – Italian suits at reasonable prices.



It wasn’t hard to notice that service was not the forte of the staff in the store.  The salesmen, (no women), were pushy, to the point of arrogant.  Their priority seemed to be getting your size and getting you out the door.  They were greasy yes, but we played along – the prices were too good not to.



As Man tried on his suits, I people-watched a Russian couple beside me.  The man was trying on a distinct looking, pale grey suit and with his impractical colour choice, I assumed it would be his suit for their wedding.



My Man motioned to me that he didn’t particularly like his suits and he passed them out, over the door.



Upon seeing me holding an armful of clothes, Greasy Salesman reappeared.  I thanked him and explained politely that we would look around.  He pulled the suits away from me, a little too quickly, then mumbled something, too quietly for me to decipher.



While I waited for Man to get changed, I followed Greasy Salesman with my gaze and watched him engage rudely with every interaction.  This shark was hungry for sales.



In the meantime, Russian Bride was dejectedly adjusting Russian Groom’s grey suit.  The fabric was quite noticeably, puckering on the shoulder.



Enter Greasy Salesman.

He too adjusted Russian Groom and assured Russian Bride that there was nothing wrong. She kept pointing to the area and explained in limited terms, that it was poorly sewn.



Enter Back-up Greasy Salesman.

Together, they performed a chorus of, No, no, no!  It’s good quality!


But Russian Bride, rightfully, was unrelenting.



Before I go on, I need to tell you that one of my many talents is knowing a veritable UN of curse words and insults.

Robo can say ‘hello’, ‘I love you’ and ‘get fucked’ in a number of foreign tongues.

Arabic being one of them.



Back-up Greasy conversed directly with Original Greasy in Arabic and what happened next remains one of the foulest acts of hate I personally witnessed.



Original Greasy pointed to his watch, then pointed towards Russian Bride, and loudly and clearly said the Arabic word for slut.



Disgusting.  Little.  Man.



So Robo stepped in.



I spoke directly to Original Greasy.

What did you say? 

What did you call her?



Original Greasy was dumb struck. He didn’t say a word.

 Did you call this woman a slut?



The store went silent.  I was using my clearest, loudest teacher voice.



I turned to Russian Bride.

He called you a slut, you know?



Then back to Original Greasy.

How dare you?!

You’re a PIG!



People from across the store held their items of clothing and stared at me.

I didn’t care.  I was so far beyond angry that my voice quivered and my body trembled.



Man finally emerged from the fitting room, (God knows what took him so long) and steered me out of the store with both hands on my shoulders.



Original Greasy followed us out.  I could tell he wanted to hurl abuse but he used his better judgement.

Maybe I could’ve handled things differently.

Perhaps I should’ve written a letter of complaint, but I think I made my point.



I hope that misogynistic piece of shit learnt that disrespecting women in ANY language is NOT ON.



Man’s expensive Italian suit days are over but I remember my dummy spit with pride.


Did Original Greasy get into any trouble?

Probably not.


Did Russian Bride or Groom understand what I was saying?

I hope they did.


Did people think I was a crazy lady?

They probably did but non mi importa! 

That’s Italiano for I couldn’t give a faaark!



My Man, by the way, said, Good on you… But you really went off at him…




Have you seen a misogynistic pig in action? 



Robo X

Welcome back to The Lounge. 

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The Lizards are looking forward to reading your cringeworthy tantrums in our link-up this week.

Grab your drink, relax, and tell Aunty Robo all about it…

The bar link is open all weekend.

Our theme is Adult Tantrums, but if there’s something else you want to tell us, hit us up.

Link your Blog Post below.

WTF is that on your head?

I’ll admit to my share of fashion faux pas.

It goes without saying that thick blonde foils and lip liner were never my friend but I was channelling Laura San Giacomo and it was the nineties.

I’m not as fashion forward as I’d like to be but I try to stay on trend, in my own special way.


You might already know that Robomum blogs incognito, so I won’t be sharing with you my own personal failings.

Instead, for this week’s link-up in The Lounge, I will pick on the Royals and those ridonkulous hats they wear.

I don’t understand it.

You have all the money in the world and you decide to stick something stupid on top of your head?




Zara Phillips can barely keep this satellite dish on

Queen In San Diego

In the Navy!

Even the Queen is guilty of a theme crisis.


And Crown Princess Mary’s mother-in-law is not exempt.  

When Mr 4 saw this he said, ‘blue pipe cleaners’.

Yes, as I sit in my pyjamas and Adidas jumper, it’s easy to cast my critical eye over celebrity fashion disasters. But I cannot ignore an emerging theme; regardless of your status in society, your bulging hip pocket or the amount of personal stylists you employ, money CANNOT buy good taste.

Here are my favourite Hat Fails…

Beatrice blue

Feeling blue Beatrice, or is that Eugenie?  Plate head.

Eugenie green

Other daughter of Fergie.  Terminate whoever said that this was OK.


Kind of cute but I reckon those butterflies could put a serious dent in my mortgage.

And the best Hat Fail ever…


Now hun, you’re attending what is arguably, the most important society wedding of all time.

Didn’t you check this one out with mum?



I found these on the net…


Who did this to you?

And this one…




As Coco Chanel famously said, before you leave home, take that Stupid Looking Hat OFF your effing HEAD!






Have I got it all wrong?  Do you like these hats?

Do you wear hats?

My fanciest hat is a straw beach hat…

Getting my fashion biatch on for The Lounge – this week over at Slapdash Mama.

Join in the fun!


Robo X

PS.  Email me for the image sources.