five things

Yahoo (exclamation mark) News has an incisive headline tonight: 'five things you should never put in a dishwasher'. I did not click the link to find out what they are, so I'm going to guess

1. Babies

2. Pets

3. Musical instruments

4. Electrical appliances

5. Geraniums

...and, now I think of it

6. radioactive waste

7. endangered species

8. firewood

9. soft furnishings

10. your passport

11. former wrestling star Giant Haystacks

12. the Stanley Cup

13. cheese

In fact, now I really think of it, Yahoo (exclamation mark) could’ve saved itself a lot of time by just listing the things you can put in a dishwasher, because I suspect that list is considerably shorter.

memo

Dear Google Chrome,

I love you very much. You are much friendlier than Explorer. You are very helpful and speedy to deliver me webpages.

It’s nice that you notice things, too, and give me a popup saying ‘This page is in French! Would you like to translate it?’ I click ‘Nope!’ every time, but you do like to check. Even, I feel bound to point out, when the page is not in French at all. You just did it on my email homepage, actually. And your helpfulness seems to be influencing other websites too. Youtube has permanently affixed itself into French for me now. I think it’s mostly to enable you to put your jaunty popup line over the top and ask me if I want to translate it back again. Are you perhaps in cahoots? I suspect it.

Love,

Amber

p.s. the answer’s still no. But thanks for offering! Really.

p.p.s. actually, if you want to tell me what ‘in cahoots’ is in French, I would be cool with that. Perhaps when you pop up to tell me this page is in French, which when I last looked it still wasn’t, I will hit translate, and then I’ll find out.

a lesson in clarity

Well. That was a very interesting exercise and you all stepped up to the plate in a completely different way from how I was expecting. I thought I was going to be reading about your love for a bunch of places in Canada and the reasons they would be a smashing spot to hang my hat. Perhaps I could’ve been marginally clearer on that one, because I wasn’t actually trawling for you all to just tell me you want me around where you are. You are all either astonishingly nice, generous and kind-hearted people, or hoping to be lined up for some good Australian gift loot when I come back. Maybe a bit of both.

In other news, I spent the afternoon stacking beautiful red, brittle jarrah logs for firewood. Jarrah! I am officially living in a Tim Winton novel.

(ps I am not sure why the most recent comments haven’t displayed. Maybe there is a comment limit, and blogger simply can't believe this many people want to talk to me. However, the comments are still appearing in my email, so I am seeing them, and responding, although mine are also being eaten by the hungry hungry comment gods).

The One

I need your help with a Very Important Thing.

2010 is going to be the year I find The One. And you’re going to help me.

O good heavens no. I don’t mean that kind of The One. No calling up brothers and cousins to beg favours.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s been some...relocation, in my recent past. New Zealand. Australia. Saskatoon. I have learnt a lot, taught a little, and experienced and enjoyed many things I would not have done, had I stayed in one place.

But I am ready, now, to find my Place, and make it The One. I am ready to take all the things I have experienced and enjoyed and learnt, and put ‘em all together somewhere that I want to be long enough to make it worth buying Tupperware. Painting a wall. Making a home.

So this midwinter Canada Day, when I have officially less time left here in Australia than I have until I go home to Canada, I pass it over to you.

Where shall I go?

Within certain boundaries mostly dictated by my own caprice, I’m willing to give most places a shot.

I’d give you my list of capricious needs, but I’m at the romance stage at the moment. I just want to hear things about places and imagine finding my Place there. So long as there’s some music (yes, MY kind of music. You know) and some books, the remaining needs can wait until the plans get more concrete. When I pack my bags for home, where should home be (and why)?

Find me The One. I trust you. I know you can do it.

(p.s. 1. It doesn’t have to be where YOU live, though it can be. 2. You don’t have to be Canadian to suggest. Pick a place and send me there. 3. Look! Cake!!)