I would like to start this blog post by thanking you. The words thank you seem so small when I write them down, they don’t really capture the enormity of grateful emotion that swells in my chest every time I receive help from you.

As each email telling me of a donation comes in, I feel an excited *squee* bubbling up and I am so very, very grateful to you.

The section of the internet that I frequent really is filled with lovely, lovely generous people. And due to your help in spreading the word of my shave we are going to be able to help the Leukaemia Foundation help families who are facing the darkest battle of their lives.

Cancer really and truly does suck. It is a terrifying reality to have to face.

It is the little things with cancer that you don’t expect.

I wasn’t prepared for how much I spent on petrol driving to the hospital over and over again, the car seemed to be continually running on empty(as was I) and all other household bills were put on the backburner as the costs of Mum’s cancer came first.

When you live any distance away from the hospital, appointments seem to take up whole days. I don’t think I cooked a meal for my family in the last few months of Mum’s life. I know I certainly didn’t do a scrap of housework.

Small things internet, small things that build up and can cause huge stress in a family.

It is my own experience of cancers destructive impacts upon a family that made me decide to join the Worlds Greatest Shave. I was grumpy with my hair and I saw an ad somewhere for the Leukaemia foundation and BAM just like that I signed up.

Now of course I am shitting myself and trying not to think about the impending haircut, as each time I think about it I start to hyperventilate a little bit.

I am impulsive and I never ever think about the consequences of my actions. I just decide to do stuff. I certainly hadn’t thought about the logistics of actually shaving off my hair until a conversation happened on facebook and I was given a link to this page, Miss Be Shavin’

And before I could say “Roller Derby looks like fun” I had joined up with these girls and the logistics of the shave are all being taken care of for me.

I just wont think about the venue, or the hundreds of people that will be there.

I will do my best Scarlett O”Hara impersonation and think about that tomorrow, internet.

On my birthday Veronica took some photos of my hair for me.

After all that hair modelling I was exhausted and the kidlets and I retired to the couch, with chocolate.

If you would like to support me  and donate a couple of dollars I would be most grateful.

So far internet we have raised Raised: $1,508.00

You can DONATE HERE. *grins*

Wow internet that is a long time.

Well it’s not really a long time if you are a tree or a rock or a giant squid.

BUT it is a long time to have been married.

Today is my anniversary, The Spouse and I have been together for 25 years.

I often flippantly say that I found him on the side of the road and decided to keep him, well that is true, up to a point.

I didn’t really decide to keep “The Spouse” until four years later.

What I don’t say is that I only went out with The Spouse for a few months when I  was seventeen.

“The Spouse” swears that for him, it was love at first sight. He says he just knew that I was the one for him.

At the fickle age of seventeen I just thought he was rather hot and very fuckable. I went out with him for a few months and then dumped him when he started to talk about long term plans.

At the words lets settle down,I went WTF and bolted.

I bumped into Jeff at the pub again when I was 18 or 19 and one look into those eyes of his and I was immediately smitten again. But once again he vowed and declared that I was the only one for him and I was off like a shot.

At the age of 20 I was living a rather torrid life. The share house I was living in was full of crazy people doing crazy people things. I was working night shift in a popular blues nightclub and I wasn’t just burning the candle at both ends, I was putting a blow torch to the middle of the fucker  as well.

Enter “The Spouse” into my life again

Third time must have been the trick because on my 21st birthday I decided that maybe there was some merit to settling down with this bloke and so I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and we have never looked back.

I like this photo very much, even though I joke that I should have moved the knife block a bit closer.

“The Spouse is often underneath my car fixing it for me.

I was telling him to pose for the camera and we got the giggles.

This is my favourite “Arty” shot of the Spouse.

Hey Jeffrey Foale. I do Love you!

Melinda Tankard-Reist shouts a lot.

She shouts about porn and the exploitation of women, she presents herself as a feminist and campaigns against the sexualisation of our girls.

Playboy bunnies on eight year old girls knickers make me a bit shouty as well and I think we should all be making a lot more noise about the sexualisation of our little girls.

BUT

What Melinda Tankard Reist would prefer that we didn’t know about her is that she is a fundamentalist Christian.

A god botherer of the first order who attends a Baptist church.

I didn’t know this, because to be honest even though I follow Melinda Tankard Reist on twitter I find her hysterical screechings to be a bit exhausting and I only notice her occasionally.

Once I was made aware of Melinda Tankard Reist’s religious leanings a lot of her opinions were immediately put into context.

A context that Melinda Tankard Reist doesn’t seem to like me having.

And it also seems that Melinda Tankard Reist  would prefer that her religious preferences aren’t talked about.

Melinda Tankard Reist says,

“She tries to follow Jesus, but she doesn’t want anybody focusing on her religion because that will distract from her work.”

I tend to disagree.

I think it is of critical importance that we have a context within which to frame our responses to Melinda Tankard Reist’s anti porn and anti abortion campaigns.

I think that  Melinda Tankard Reist’s religion is very, very important to how I perceive her and her work. It doesn’t distract me from her work at all, it gives me the previously mentioned context.

Dr Jennifer Wilson has been persistent in her  public questioning of Melinda Tankard Reist and Dr Wilson writes that she is now being sued by Tankard Reist for declaring on her blog, “No Place for Sheep” that Tankard Reist is a Baptist and attends a Baptist church.

MTR threatens Sheep with legal action if we don’t censor our posts about her immediately

In the conversation that ensued on twitter between No place for Sheep, Weezmgk and myself, I offered my public support to Dr Wilson

This conversation in turn inspired  Machine Gun Keyboard to write this post in support of Dr Wilson

Melinda Tankard-Reist is not the internet nor sex police

So here I stand on my soapbox on my blog declaring loudly that I am Spartacus, because it is incredibly, incredibly important that WE DO NOT LET THE SHOUTERS WIN.

We the public should always, always question the motivations of high profile public campaigners,politicians or anyone else that purports to speak in our name.

I AM SPARTACUS!

In the middle of raising the funds for Annie’s iPad, unbeknown to me, Paypal limited my account. That is why some of you were unable to donate.

Luckily for us and for Annie, Paypals actions didn’t affect our outcome as the gorgeous Nathalie had teed up a discounted iPad from her local Apple Store.

Marita went ahead and purchased Annie’s iPad on her credit card, knowing that the funds that you had generously donated would be available.

Mission accomplished internet. Annie has her iPad.

Can you imagine my dismay that same afternoon, when I went to send Marita the money and I saw this message.

Basking in the happy afterglow of our achievement, I should have been skipping around the house saluting the generostity of my lovely internetz. Instead I was left with an administrative headache that I didn’t want to talk about online, in case it put a downer on the collective happiness we were all feeling.

I was presented with a series of hoops I was required to jump through in order to get my account up and running again.

I managed to confirm my identity without any problems. I then had to upload a recent bank statement which I was loathe to do. Giving paypal that sort of information about my recent financial history made me very, very uncomfortable, but I did it.

Then I really hit a stumbling block, as I had used a donate button I had to explain my charity’s mission statement. Oh dear. I am not a charity I am just a person who wanted to harness the power of the internet to give a little girl an iPad. This is when I  rang Paypal and began the five day process of lifting the limitations on my account.

Luckily for me, Marita was happy to wait until the Paypal funds were cleared and she refused my offer of paying her the cash myself.

Five days from start to finish, three phonecalls and various administrative hoops later, your money internet, is in Marita’s bank.

And I am sitting here trying to work out  all the reasons why I am grumpy with paypal.

I am grumpy because paypal took $27.00 in charges.

I wasn’t aware of these sort of fees being applied. When I have donated in the past using paypal I just assumed that all of my donation would go through. So I am grumpy with my own naivety as well as Paypals business practice.

When I was talking to one of Paypals customer service representatives he told me that blogs were in a regulatory grey area and that the sort of limitations that were put on my account were quite common. He gave me the usual spiel about terrorism and money laundering and financial laws, etc. etc.

As I went higher up the corporate food chain the attitude of the employees wasn’t exactly condescending but it was  tinged with a subtle arrogance. There was an undertone in the conversation that suggested that I was swimming in murky financial waters.

I am writing this blog post as a warning to other bloggers to be careful when using  Paypal to raise money. Because even though a Paypal donate button with the tracker widget is a lovely and convenient way to raise money. It is also quite a headache trying to get your account up and running again if Paypal decide to limit your account.

All in all 32 lovely people donated $725 minus the $27 in fees and I was able to transfer $698 to Marita last night.

Now the question I ask myself is, “Would I do it again?” Yes I would, but I would have to think of a better way to collect the money raised rather than being at the mercy of Paypal. I think the fact that I presented myself as “high profile” Australian blogger helped to hurry along the procedure.  As once I started to google Paypal complaints I found that some people have been waiting a long time to sort out these sorts of issues.

Anyhow internet, once again thankyou so very very much for helping to make this Christmas so very special for one little girl.

And as for you Paypal, I havent quite decided what to do about you just yet.

All you need to do is say YES.

Say Yes! I can do something about this.

Say Yes! I can help.

Say Yes! By saying No to plastic.

I know it is hard.

I know we are surrounded by the rotten stuff.

But if we each decide to stop buying one item of plastic.

Just one item.

I have said no to plastic water bottles.

So just Say Yes

And we can make a small step forward.

Say Yes to the planet and say no to unecessary plastic.

Our grandchildren are depending on us.

My very best friend Tanya, arrived on the morning of Veronica’s wedding with her car boot packed full with brightly coloured gerberas.

Gerberas are such a happy flower.

These images make me smile.

I am joining in with Shae’s things I know meme again this week because I know a lot of things and this is one way for me to share them without sounding like a know it all.

I know that reading Shae’s blog post this morning where she declares that she is farticus made me smile. No woman, I AM FARTICUS!

I know that small things often have a very big impact.

I commented on a post written by Eden Riley the other week and Eden sent me the shell she had photographed. This tiny tiny shell only a bit bigger than my thumbnail will soon have inspired a whole series of work.I pinched this photo from Eden’s blog.

When I am absentmindedly doodling, or when I let myself be transported to the quiet space within, these swirls in the shell are a recurring feature in my art work. Whether they are lines drawn in the clay with a wet finger, while I am thinking of other things or pen marks on the back of an envelope drawn while I am on hold to centrelink. These marks are always there just below the surface. I asked Eden for the shell because I liked the tiny blue swirl on the flat side and thought to use that as decoration in a pot. The  ridges and swirls on the underside of the shell were an unexpected bonus and I felt slightly disjointed for a while as I thought about beauty and destruction. I felt very strongly that the Earth Mother was saying, “See Kimmy, here I am again, listen to me,you need to make work of the earth.

I am trying not to listen to the planet as it screams at me to make more work, as it takes me such a long time to recover.I have held myself back from making any earth pots as the energy it takes is enormous. I am faffing about making bread and butter items for the shop, instead of dead bird bowls. I am more concerned with paying my rent than paying my dues and I have deliberately kept my shoes on to minimise the humming in my soul as the birds keep on dying.

This next series of photos illustrate what I mean. The post is here if you want to read about it Blood and Ashes, Oil and Despair. I couldn’t get the birds out of my head. The dead birds nagged at me until I made the work. And it took me weeks to recover from the making.

I know I started this post out on a humourous note declaring that, “No Shae, I AM Farticus!” and then I went to a darker place. It was as unexpected a journey to me my dear internets, as it was to you. I had just planned to touch lightly on the surface issue of friendships and small things making large differences when, “Bam” the birds ambushed me.

And so, here we are together again internet, just you and I on the cusp of another journey. I think I would like you to hold my hand please.

Today I go and introduce myself to some teenagers and see if they want to make some films.

I am incredibly nervous. I have already thought up and disregarded a zillion different reason why I cant possibly go in and work with these kids.

The physical manifestation of nerves interest me and as I am typing this I am trying to work out how my body is reacting.

My hands are cold and I have a whole colony of butterflies fluttering about in my tummy. My ears feel blocked and I am a bit light headed.I have a slight tightness in my chest and I need to go to the loo, again.

Ack. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I put my hand up and say yes I can do this when I have only just worked out how to make films myself?

I feel sick.

BUT.

I am well prepared.

I am going to introduce myself and talk about my work. I have one of my ceramic shells that I am going to take in as well as one of my dead bird bowls.

I am going to talk about being a storyteller and how we all have stories to tell.

I have ten minutes worth of short videos to show as examples of different styles of film making.

Here they are if you are interested.

And then I am just going to make it up as I go along.

I am now going back to reread all your wonderful comments on my last post on this topic.

But I might just go to the loo and throw up first.

Nerves. I Have Them.

The text in bold is from the Occupy Wall street Website.

Occupy Wall Street is leaderless resistance movement with people of many colors, genders and political persuasions.

The one thing we all have in common is that We Are The 99% that will no longer tolerate the greed and corruption of the 1%.

This peaceful protest has been going on since the 17th of September.

You can find more information here at Occupy Wall Street

As far as I can gather there has not been any coverage by the mainstream media at all.

This media silence  bothers me.

You can watch the live stream here

Follow them on twitter here

or follow the #occupywallstreet twitter feed here

Ps. If you are looking for my Sunday Selections Post, Veronica is hosting it this week.

An alternate title to this post could well be Dick Adams staff don’t care about his constituents opinions.

Dear Mr Adams,

Yesterday I decided to ring your office in Perth, Tasmania and voice my concerns about the offshore processing of refugees.

Your own website Mr Adams clearly states that

My priority as the Member for Lyons is to listen to the community and work in the best interests of all my constituents.

As your local Federal Member of Parliament, please feel free to seek assistance from me if you have any enquiries in your particular area.  My priority is dealing with those issues that are directly related with Federal Government such as Centrelink, Veterans Affairs, Health, Immigration, Superannuation to name a few.  I know there are other issues that cross all government boundaries and I am happy to help with those as well.

So I felt pretty confident that I could ring your office, politely tell you that I was concerned about the offshore processing of refugees and then I could happily go about my business, secure in the knowledge that my federal member was listening to me.

What I didn’t expect Mr Adams was your female staff member to be extremely condescending and dismissive of my concerns. I did not expect to be rudely asked where I had received my information about the governments refugee policy. I certainly did not expect to hear a tone of condescension and incredulity when I told your staff member that I receive my information about current affairs via twitter.

Twitter? She scoffed, as if I had just said I received my news bytes via the fairy telegram service at the bottom of the garden.

That was the end of the conversation as far as the office lady was concerned, I could hear the derision and laughter in her voice as she dismissed me as another bleeding heart, lefty, greenie nutter.

And that stung.

Way to go Mr Adams.

I would like to remind you Mr Adams that it is the 21st century. It is also the 21st century in Tasmania.

I use twitter as my main means of information gathering about all world events.

I tweeted my displeasure at your offices condescension and dismissal of my concerns to my 1518 followers

My tweet was then retweeted by two twitter friends within Tasmania with a combined following of 4053 people.

You do the maths Mr Adams, three people in Tasmania with a follow count of 5571 people between them, tweeting the one message.

That is a lot of fairies at the bottom of a lot of gardens.

Yours in despair,

Kim Ponds Rock

Southern Midlands.