The Naked Crab

Check it Out

2009-08-23T21:11:00.000-07:00

For all you hopefuls that periodically check this site for updated blogs, I've actually started a NEW one. Life has changed so much in the past two years that it didn't seem right to keep writing on the 'old' blog.

I haven't written at all really, but once a blogger, always a blogger and the urge to once again put thoughts and ponderings onto the 'little screen' became strong once more.

So, a new life and a new blog. Actually, my husband Roy and I are both contributing to it and hopefully you will find some of his insights quite entertaining and very colourful.

The new address is www.wisemen-say.blogspot.com .

Therefore 'the Naked Crab' is signing off, over and out.

;)

Nit Picking

2007-05-21T17:50:00.000-07:00

My kids are clean kids. They are almost fanatical about it. They scrub between all their cracks, have learned to brush their teeth until they shine and can't stand sticky hands or messy faces.

A couple of nights ago, I was talking to my friend M... One of her children started scratching their heads. She said, 'Oh the nits are probably back.'

'Hmmmm', thought I. Her kids spend a lot of time with mine. So I asked her what it was like and what to look for, etc.

She told me how they lay little eggs near the scalp which stick to the strands of hair. Once they hatch they are black with a longish body, but still very small. My stomach turned. "I am glad mine have never had that," I remarked.

The next morning while getting mine ready for school, I thought perhaps I better check their shiny clean scalps... just in case.

At first I thought my daughter had sand in her hair, or perhaps grit. Then I saw it. The tiny black 'thing' crawling through her hair. I quickly began inspecting her more closely in all areas, ... uggghhhhhhhhh... EGGS EVERYWHERE! I could see a few more nits crawling around and tried to extract them quickly, my stomach lurching.

I checked my son... clean. Phew. So, with Amelie now being excluded for a day from daycare, it was off to the pharmacy to get the goop. The toxic mix of teatree oil and eucalypt that kills the eggs and live nits.

It was quite cute really. I put her in the bath and we applied the sticky substance, and then she had to put on a green shower cap which was supplied in the kit. She was so good, so patient. We set the timer for 10 minutes and my little angel with eggs in her hair played quietly. When it was time we rinsed, shampooed and conditioned, got out the lice comb and started combing out the eggs. A bit hard to get a three year old to sit still, but she did well, and we got most of the little buggers.

All in all, it was a learning experience for me. I had flashbacks of my mom combing eggs out of my long locks as a child. Amelie was a trooper and got some new shoes out of the ordeal. (which she needed, btw)

Now my only problem is that I freak out when ever I feel the urge to itch my scalp. Stay away, you naughty nits! Who would comb them out of my hair???

Tongue Twister

2007-05-16T05:44:00.000-07:00

How many blogs could a good blogger blog,

if a good blogger could blog blogs,

A good blogger could blogs as many blogs as a good blogger could blog,

if a good blogger could blog blogs.

I've been teaching my kids some tongue twisters, so I thought I would try a few of my own...

Heather Feather hates the Weather

when it rains in pains her brain.

Heather Feather loves the Weather

when it is fine in time for wine she is sublime.

Ok, I am headed more into Dr Seuss territory here... Maybe I need some wine to make the rhyme slip out of my lip a little easier next time... :)

I am back! Please smile.

Ok, my favorite...

She sells seashells, down by the seashore. (What is the second line?) Try it out.

Say this...

Toy boat

Toy boat... stop when you can no longer tell which language you are speaking in.

Red leather Yellow leather Red Leather Yellow leather

(Silly Heather, Crazy Heather, Silly Heather, Crazy Heather)

:) bye bye

Apple pie.

Olive Juice!

The Top Three Most Embarrassing Points in My Life So Far

2007-03-27T22:26:00.000-07:00

Ok, if the word 'fart' offends you please read no further...

1. Yes, you can see where this is headed I am sure. Picture me as a teenager, a large Sunday School room, metal chairs arranged in a circle for serious Bible study, and a girl who got the giggles. Unfortunately, I had also eaten something that hadn't agreed with me. Add that to the helpless giggles that only a 14 year old can succumb to, and you get a very loud noise, that to this day, makes me blush.

2. More teenage angst. Summer camp, a tight dress with a zip down the front. Bench seats that had to be straddled... Ok, I'll give you more on this one.

It was the final night of camp. It was a special dinner night, and most of us had paired up with a member of the opposite sex. I was with Donny. I nice guy who was real sweet. When it was our tables turn to line up for dinner, we headed for the trays and filled them up with the usual camp fare. We returned to our seats and as I raised my leg to straddle the bench and sit down, the zip on my very fashionable denim dress decided to break.

Since the zip traveled from the collar to the hem, quite a lot was revealed. Poor Donny looked up at that moment, let out a gasp and quickly looked away, as all gentlemen should do! Luckily I was close to the kitchen, so I hobbled off through the back of the hall, clasping my dress and then ran to my cabin to change. A very memorable moment indeed.

3. Ok, I figured we all have those teenage angst moments, so I've decided to share NO. 3 which is a rather recent experience.

I was staying at my mother's house last month. Now, one thing I like to do regularly is get my leg hair waxed off, along with other bits and pieces, that I will not divulge at this time. I was due for a wax job while I was there and asked my mother if she knew where I could go to get the job done. (stunned silence) "Why would you want to have that done?" Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

So, I took it upon myself to look this service up in the phone book. I called several places that advertised 'waxing' only to find out that they only did facial hair. (Thank goodness I don't need that!) Anyway, a few minutes later, my mom's friend arrives, so my mom asks her where I can go. Her friend (who knows exactly who she is) dissolves into a fit of giggles. They then ring, another gal on the phone, again... more giggles and finally a few phone numbers are produced.

My dad also was in the room, throwing in various cheeky comments. Then they all found out that my man was travelling up to see me a day early... and then the giggles and the commentary started up again.

Oh dear... well, it is my body, my hair and I don't see what is so funny about getting it waxed. I think perhaps the whole bloody town knows about it now anyway. You would think the old biddies would be a little more mature and worldly by now. ;)

I Went Snowshoeing and Bigfoot Grabbed Me

2007-03-27T06:42:00.000-07:00

You know how it is... You are having a lovely day, tromping through untouched snow with your snowshoes on, when all the sudden a giant monkey-like figure reaches out and grabs you! Yes indeed, I was very lucky to escape with my clothes on!

My man (well part monkey actually, who stands at 6'8") took me on a wonderful snowshoeing excursion on my recent trip to Bend, Oregon. He claims to be Bigfoot, but no one will ever really know.

Neither of us had ever done snowshoeing before, so after strapping on the rather large shoes (his much bigger than mine), we headed into what can only be described as a winter wonderland.

At first it was all down hill. The cloud cover kept the temperatue from dipping too low, and the exercise warmed us from within. About 30 minutes into the hike, snowflakes began to drift down like angel kisses. As we walked on, larger flakes floated down to greet us, making the snowy scene surrounding us more beautiful.

I had this overwhelming desire to take the moment and put it in a bottle and hold on to it forever. Snow is as foreign to my neck of the woods as lizards are to your bathroom (see previous post).

We were working our way to a 'promised' shelter and finally made it after a good hour of hiking (uphill for the last 10 minutes). After warming up in front of a wood stove and having a few snacks, we headed back.

The sun came out as we concluded what turned out to be a 5 mile treck. It was just on the ebb of setting and as we took our final steps in the snow; a pink tinge formed on the clouds. The perfect end to my day with bigfoot. :)

Lizard Karma

2007-03-26T23:56:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you believe in karma... the golden rule... murphy's law, WHATEVER! But I have a lizard tale to tell.

I recently split up with my husband and moved into my own apartment. As I've written before, as a single woman I've had to deal with an array of cockroaches, spiders, and other bugs on my own. No point in screaming and jumping up on furniture if no one is there to 'rescue' you and take care of the assorted vermin.

Now, I don't claim to be anything less than a complete sissy when it comes to these issues, but I get on with it anyway.

However, everyone has their limits, and mine were reached last week when I opened my bathroom door and found a rather large lizard sitting in my tub. To use my daugher's phrase, "I freaked out!" I called the afore mentioned ex, and was told to deal with it and that I was lucky it wasn't a centipede. Fortunately, in this town there is a lizard and snake catcher, so the problem was taken care of quite quickly. Whew...

Well, not exactly the end of the story... Still feeling a little on edge, I entered the bathroom two mornings later, bleary eyed and ready for a shower, I stifled a scream when I saw a disgusting centipede crawling up my shower. It was about 8 inches long and as thick as my thumb. Uggghhhh... I even called the lizard catcher... who prompty told me to just sweep it up with a dust pan and brush. Yeah Right! Well luckily, my ex came and took care of the horrible creature.

Two days later... I walked in, now incredibly wary... and found a huntsman spider on the ceiling of the bathroom.

I don't know about you... but I feel as if these creatures were trying to tell me something....

MOVE!

Grateful

2007-01-22T17:33:00.000-08:00

Recently, I had to pay a visit to our local Centrelink office. (The equivalent of welfare office.) I qualify for a few government rebates now that I am a 'single' mum. I had never been to this place before.

As you might expect it was quite depressing. The mood was somber. People were shuffling slowly through lines or waiting for their name to be called. The receptionists seemed friendly and could crank out a smile for each new person who approached their desk. However, I immeadiately had the feeling that this was the last place I could work.

I walked in and had to wait in a line that moved slower than cold honey. Then once I was 'seen', I was told to wait in a small seated waiting area. I was informed that the wait was approx. 20 minutes. HA!!! Never believe government workers that have the ability to smile all day long.

A cool 50 minutes later, someone finally called my name. I can tell you this experience was only one notch higher than waiting in the emergency room. At least I wasn't in pain. Well... not at the start.

Finally, after an hour long interview, my forms were lodged, I was informed in a professional and politically correct manner that I would hear back about my claim one week from today's date. Bla bla bla. (See, I could never work there!) I really am not in to bureacracy and form filling outings. I am not a 'go by the book' kind of girl. But at times one must jump through hoops to get the free bucks... Right?

The worst part about that place, was seeing the people lining up for their welfare payments. I don't want to generalize, but if you want to find the 'down and out's' of life, the broken hearted people in humanity... the welfare office is a good place to start. Made me kind of think... how I sit here in my lovely shop and complain about 'work'. What I really have is a choice. I own a business and I have a teaching degree. Choice gives us freedom, and keeps us out of the welfare office. For that I am grateful.

Work

2007-01-15T18:30:00.000-08:00

As I sit here staring at a pile of bills I must pay, and invoices I must file and phone calls I must return, I realize that all the 'must do's' in life can be quite crippling.

I HATE being told what to do, or how to do it. I don't handle criticism well, and I have problems with authority. Basically I am a suburban housewife rebel.

Now, I also own my own business, a 'mother and baby' shop in my small town. Part of the allure and glamour of running your own business, is the independence. I don't have to answer to the 'man', I am the 'man'! I can work my own hours, make my own decisions and spend as much time on my computer as I like. :)

The problem (and usually there is one) is that I lack the motivation to do the real work. I hate paying bills, sweeping, unhappy customers, etc. Basically, once the glamour and idealism wore off, it just became a job. Ho hum.

So, what kind of job does a lazy, suburban rebel housewife, disorganized procrastinator do? ;)

Tomorrow

2007-01-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

I am a procrastinator. I may not have invented it, but I have perfected it. My motto, "Why do today, that which can be done tomorrow!" And... we all know tomorrow never comes.

But it seems that even though old habits die hard, they do catch up with you. Like when you decide not to clean your house and suddenly old friends drop in from out of State. Surprise! Or you can't sleep because you know you haven't completed your homework. (OK, that one was a flashback.) Ahhhh, my favorite one: the phone gets cut off because you lost the bill. You see where this is going.

I feel as if perhaps it is time for change. I have almost started driving my own self crazy. I've noticed that when I take care of stuff on time it unblocks a lot of stress and anxiety. It makes way for creative energy to flow and allows me to have peace of mind.

So this weekend I need to clean out my classroom, finish a couple of projects and get on top of my laundry. I'll let you know how it goes. What are you going to accomplish? I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

2007-01-04T17:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I noticed my daughter had a broken crayon in her hands. A moment later I looked down and noticed that she had the crayon placed expertly between two fingers. She then appeared to be sucking on it and then puffing.

Horrified parent of three-year old child: "Honey, what are you doing?"

Precocious child's response: "Smoking."

Horrified parent who is also trying to keep a stern face: "Where did you learn to do that?"

Puzzled child's answer: "Daycare. Claire showed me."

Hmmmmmmmmmm.... (indeed)

Later that evening... I was offered a "smoke".

"No thanks, I want to live a long healthy life and not get sick and die."

"It's only pretend mum."

Oh brother.

Greetings

2006-12-21T18:06:00.000-08:00

Today as I walked to the post office on my daily mail run, I saw a long line at the parcel hatch. People waiting expectantly for a share in what must be a mammoth quantity of packages flying around the globe at this point in time.

As I progressed towards my PO Box, I noticed a man collecting his mail and then opening an envelope on the spot. He had a rough face and a very long beard. As he opened the envelope and pulled out a Christmas card, his face transformed and lit up with joy and delight.

I felt like I was witnessing some of the magic of Christmas. The way this season gives us the opportunity through cards and or gifts to share our love, to say we care and to touch those we love.

The Christmas card tradition is very big here in Australia. Many people take this very seriously and I know my mum sends and receives around fifty cards every year. I have never sent so many myself. This year, I only sent about half a dozen. But today I saw how wonderful a moment can be when one human being touches another with a simple card that says, "Merry Christmas."

Potato Chip Friends

2006-11-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

I noticed the other day at lunch that a child who is quite unpopular, had a few kids swarmed around him. I quickly grew suspicious and went over for a closer inspection. Sure enough, this child had opened a packet of potato chips and certain kids were asking him for one.

I intervened and told the vultures to stop being 'potato chip' friends. All crumbley and breakable... and only coming around when something is on offer.

When life is good we are always surrounded by people, who bask in our success and in the light we give out. When life is bad, we withdraw and creep around, unnoticed and usually only a few of our truest friends crawl into the dark corners and spend time with us.

I have felt very much like my bag of potato chips have been empty for quite some time now. I have nothing to give the vultures... I am lucky to get my own lunch eaten. I've crawled into a hole and I hide away whenever I can.

A lot of things have occured in the past few months and I've found out that your true friends are not just the ones who stick around, but also the ones that follow you into the hole.

I am so busy and not quite ready to poke my head out yet. I imagine in the ebb and flow of life, there could come a time, when once again, I hold the prize in my hands. But until then, be patient with me. I will be back.

Concerning monkeys...

2006-11-07T17:56:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to you, You live in a ZOO, You look like a MONKEY and You smell like one too!

After seeing Madagascar, this is my kids' favorite version of the 'Happy Birthday' song. I think once we had them call their grandmother in Adelaide and asked them to sing over the phone... big mistake. hee hee.

Well it was cute and kind of funny.

It is a monkey's birthday today, a big tall monkey that came quite unexpectedly into my life recently. So, to this monkey all I can say is... I'm not sure if you look like a monkey, or if you smell like a monkey, but when it comes to cheeky monkey behavior and the banana fetish components, you have it covered. Happy Birthday from me. :)

Ready, Set, Go....

2006-11-06T16:15:00.000-08:00

Yes, it is November. In fact, already one week of the month has passed. The sprint for the end of the year has begun.

Like drivers, who are almost out of fuel, we slow down, we try to make the most of our resources, start conserving our time... but the end is coming. Christmas will be upon us in 7 weeks. YES 7 weeks, then you wink, you blink and nod your head... HAPPY NEW YEAR is here once again.

Its a crazy time for teachers too. Five weeks left of school (I am almost half way!) But wait... report cards to write, endless amounts of Christmas crafts to organize, kids start swimming lessons in week 8... ahhh the list goes on and on.

Well, I like to be organized! You know me. I plan ahead and am never caught with my pants down in the holiday season. :) I've bought my Christmas cards, my stamps, and I have a pen that works! So, amidst the report writing... the homework marking, the running of my business, the long phonecalls... I plan to get them written and sent before the end of the month.

Heather is turning over a new leaf. It is a new era... I almost got all the birthday presents sent on time... one to go... OH, and I can't find one, and I keep eating the other... but hey, you can't expect perfection. As long as I am trying so hard. ;)

The Naked Crab

2006-11-04T14:30:00.000-08:00

A fresh start, a vulnerable chapter in my life, I had to begin where I left off and start with this story...

Naked Crabs

At the sea shore, every pool and puddle left by the retreating tide seems to have a little crab it in. Little ones scuttle sideways squeezing under rocks, peeking from a patch of seaweed, occasionally venturing out to nibble on unwary human toes.

Now and then you may see bigger crabs, in deeper pools. With ponderous majesty, they wave huge claws as a warning to stay away.On the beach, shells of crabs lay washed up by the waves. Some are from crabs that died. Others are simply discarded, a dwelling far too small for its growing occupant. That's how crabs grow bigger- when their shells get too tight, they split the shell open and grow a new one.

I've never talked with a crab. But I imagine the process of splitting a shell must be painful. I'm sure that until they grow a new shell, they must feel terribly defenceless and vulnerable. Because that's how we humans feel when we crack open our shells.

Our shells aren't visable like crabs. But they are there just the same- shells formed by years of habit, shells that protect us from other people, shells that are the roles we play as teachers, children, bosses or employees.

Every now and then we crack our shells open and emerge into the new world, quivering and defenceless.Teenagers do it as they become adults. No wonder they get cracked sometimes. Adults do it as they learn- as they let go running their children's lives; or when they get retrenched at work: or when the family's life-situation changes and they have to start all over again, alone. When they know failure. When a dream disappears.

In all these traumas of life, a shell is broken. A new vulnerable life is started. Like a shell, the the longer the shell has been growing around us, the harder it is to break it open. The more painful to start again.

Some of our shells have been worn for generations. Our Christian faith can be a shell handed down by our ancestors. Some faith shells are worth keeping. Others have become prisons - shells so encrusted with the barnacles of the past, so burning with trailing weeds, so constricted, that we can no longer move when God calls.

No one looks for painful experiences, in life or in faith. To avoid pain, we may prefer to stay locked into shells that no longer fit very well, rather than risk the vulnerability of cracking them open. But when a crab's shell becomes too thick, too protective, too tough to crack open and start again, then the crab cannot grow any more.

That's when it dies. So do we.