Hazel Loves Design... and has great taste.. thank Universe!

Which is lucky, cos I couldnt imagine following a blog where someone really loved something, but was really bad at doing it. Actually that is not a bad idea... (note to self - try and think of things I love but am not very good at).

On the topic of being great at things, let me introduce you to Hazel. She loves Design :) Her house here in Brisbane felt like something out of a magazine. Her colour scheme was black, white and silver. Though I'm pretty sure I did see purple there once. And blue. It was so cool and understated. Like Hazel.



I love the way her blog would feature pictures of different colours and textures, making bold statements or simple in their retro charm. She has great taste in choosing design type stuff - that I couldnt really put a name on, but would always feel so Hazel. I have only yesterday returned to blogging, so to be honest I havent looked at her blog for 18 months, but it has definately changed. It has grown, she has nearly 500 followers, she has people contributing and I cant find the archive... I'm sure she awarded me a badge a couple of years ago.. I just cant find where I put it.

Hazel's blog started as somewhere to post stuff that inspired her - now it has become an amazingly professional indicator of the design powerhouse she is going to become.. keep a lookout for her :) She features stuff she loves on Tuesday, a book club and even Avon giveaways. She even has plans for event planning - and kids parties, which I'm sure she will have lots of practice at! Her wedding was beautiful, her engagement party was sooo much fun, and everything else she turned her hand to just worked so well - she makes you feel like it is possible to be in that magazine photo - albeit a decorating magazine :)


I had always pictured Hazel as a Stepford wife - but this was before she became a Mum (which means she has either become super super organised and amazing and we will never know how she does it, or she is on the edge of a nervous breakdown - which we will also never know ;p)  I dont mean Stepford wife as in a vacuous, souless robot who does everything to please her husband and fit into society, but someone who is supremely organised, creative, fashionable, sophisticated, dainty and proper. So I hereby change the name - Hazelwife :)


I'm a highly intuitive person, so I usually base my opinions and judgements of people on images, thoughts, feelings, impressions and other non-verbal clues, as well as frivolous (or even sometimes malicious) gossip. Can't help it. I'm a feeler. When Hazel was pregnant with Brooklyn, I imagined her a 1960s Mum.. baking and dusting and wearing paisley. I could smell her perfume in my mind. Yes, it is I admit, a little bit creepy.

The thing I love the most about Hazels blog are the pictures. I love her choices in colour, layout, the mise en scene and all that other arty stuff :) I really dont know anything about design, but Hazel and her vision make me feel like I could be sophisticated and classy. A long road to success ;p  Hazel might not agree with with my broad generalisation of her blog, but she knows I really dont know anything about design except for what I like. And I like Hazel. And her taste.

Seriously - check out her blog :) Hazel Loves Design


Before I go, I just wanted to share that I love looking at blogs, and have been searching for ones that I like and want to follow. Its hard - there are so many out there. Maybe by doing some reviews I'll find some I like and dont like. And I'll share the ones I like with you. It would be mean to share the ones I dont like - unless they are great, or they are friends. Like Hazel ;p

My Family Tree

I just want to say happy birthday to my Great Grandfather, Mr Harry Thompson. He was born on the 1st April , 1886 in Sebastian, Victoria - just north of Bendigo.
Apparently he had kissable lips - so says my Aunty Linda.. that's not strange is it?


He was one of 11 children (oh those were the days) and became an ANZAC in New Zealand, where he met my Great Grandmother, Catherine and married her in Reefton, NZ in 1921. After moving back to Bendigo, they raised 12 children together, one of whom was my dearly departed Nanna. He died in 1958 -before my mother and I were born.


I look at his photo and wonder about him. What was he like? Did he have a sense of humour? Was he charming? I should really try and find out :)

Aww do I have to?

The answer my dear, is yes. Yes, you have to do that assignment due monday. Yes, you have to go to the toilet. Yes, you have to turn 31. Yes, you do have to pay someone to clear the junk out of your back yard. Yes Yes Yes.


Unless its about something my kids are nagging about... cant it wait? No. Usually not.


I've come back to you blog - oh how I've missed you.. maybe. You are in the category of things that I start, dont really maintain or finish, want to be more involved in.. but never seem to get around to it. Like bikini waxing. And I've only done that once. Once is enough. :) Its not like Allan says he cares anyway. Sometimes I dont want anyone down there. Its my happy place.

I'm avoiding my assignment. Its on Lawyers Roles and Responsibilities for my Legal Professional Practise class - basically ethics. The point of the assignment is to show that I understand that I will come across ethical dilemmas, have the Solicitors Rules as a framework to solve them, but will also need to engage in lifelong learning to be able to recognise and deal with them. Now to turn that into 1200 words. By tomorrow night. Bloody hell.


So I have committed blog murder - not sure I did the right thing. I could give you an update on what has happened in the last year, but I really do need to go to the toilet. Then I'm going to have a long bath and read the Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx. Being an 80s kid, I do know who Motley Crue are, but couldnt tell you the names of any songs. Now I know three - You all I need, Girls Girls Girls and Dr Feelgood. Maybe enough. There is a familiarity there - I dunno - maybe leftover trauma from the 80s, or just the claustrophobia of the mind and using drugs to escape it.


ok, now I'm busting. I may or may not be back :) There is that unwritten assignment I have about 36 hours to submit. Its only 1200 words.

What can happen in a year?

I have started a new blog - in the spirit of all things new - years, shoes, obsessions, resentments and wishings....

it will definately be interesting to see what happens this year - something might. :)

The dreaming of Zenefertiti

I wish I could dream again... well I always dream.. but dreaming was so exciting once. It was a humble escape from those awkward teenage years, where life actually had promise and i wasnt dragged down to the pits of affordability and general strangeness.

Can someone really be odd? Or is the odd person the one who thinks the other is odd? Or is the odd person the one who thinks they are odd? Why would you want to be odd? Why wouldnt you?

I really admire the person I once was. I hated myself at the time, I hated my life, and couldnt wait to do stuff.... i blamed certain elements for some things and aspired to others to be something more. And yet, I still dont know who or where I am, but strangely enough.. there is a comfort in that I find rewarding....
There are diaries and dream journals from years ago, that I love to look through.. i scorn their simplicity while agonising over things that might have been - but better they werent.

one thing that has always been me is faith. Im not sure in what though...thats the oddity of this space im in... it was runes, it was tarot, it was dreaming, it was drugs, it was staying in your place... knowing your place and not moving forward, up, down or even left of centre... but something happens when you forget about the idealism and move on... something happens when your heart is broken and your dreams are achieved, no matter how elusive...

somehow in this place I have lost myself.. and I creep into the periphery sometimes.... wondering and tiptoeing, thinking how splendid it would be if i were to return with taffeta and earrings... with pnk and purple and the blacks and the greys...
there are some things to avoid... they are no doubt dredged up with those dreams... the doubts and the feelings that you must recognise before you can go to the next level....

why is it that some things happen? the fabric of life and love and hate and sadness is a colourful memory, maybe predestined but maybe just accidental... and when the threads come loose, and the shards of your mind start to fuse together in the strangest way.. maybe that is when that grey feeling fades to black and you can wake up.. refreshed and bewildered.. ignorant and happy.

its bliss

The dick

My car has finally had the dick. I love that saying... when my mother first said something had the dick it took me a couple of minutes to realise what she meant. But she also used the term dic to refer to her dictionaries... She used to be really into crosswords, and often would yell out for me to bring her the big dic or the small dic. I found her small dic the other day while moving.. I put it in the car and kept it for her... :) She is now reunited with the small dic, but has left it on my dining room table...

I could see the proverbial dick coming for my car for a while... bless her rusted out soul... its an '87 Laser, and it used to run a lot better than it looked. Now it looks about how it runs! Or doesnt. The brakes had been going funny for the last few days, maybe weeks, I can't remember. A few times last week it would screach to a halt if i slammed the brakes on... I literally had about 3 close calls with the cars in front... I must seriously have angels watching over me... I really cant afford to pay off another insurance company.

Yesterday, after arriving home, from a 2 hour drive to BoganLogan and back, the car was hissing and steaming  in a way that almost felt suggestive, like a "was it good for you?" type of way... but really it was like a "Phew! Made it!" Allan poured coolant in it.. I went to work driving a lot more carefully than I think I ever have... you know, observing the speed limit, slowing down well before really necessary, pretending you dont notice other drivers gawking at you as they pass to see whether your old, asian or a woman.... (surely im one of those)... And then when I got home, the car was at it again...

Today i was going to drive to Val's and return her True Blood DVDs (no not really.. but intention is as good as the crime as far as im concerned)... when I decided to fill the radiator, and found the coolant pissing out of a leak in the rusted out water thing attached to the engine. The hose was broken and yeah... the thing it attaches to is rusted with a hole in it...

I really dont think its worth fixing.. I just wanted to make it to the end of the month - tax time! I'll get a new old car.. hey, maybe even something built in the last 10 years! I'll be lucky if I can get $50 for it at the wreckers...

so as an ode to my white '87 laser... I just wanted to list the things about it I loved
1. The price.. I paid $850 for it, including rego.. with my tax cheque 2 years ago :) unfortunately the yearly rego was about that too.. worth way more than the car :)

2. The stereo.. still awesome CD player with remote.. oh good tines...

3. The fact that I would get at least 10km to the L of petrol... to someone who had never had her own car, I thought it was great! I never ran out of petrol once!

4. Other drivers would avoid me... Im not sure if it was because they found a better parking spot or not, or whether it was the big dent on the front right panel, the smashed out front right indicator light, the bumpy and dented bonnet, which I might add, the previous owner had sporadically spray painted over the rust, the playboy bunny sticker on the back window, the rusty front metal guard thing underneath the bumper, the sound of the car, or the fact that I would not make eye contact with them.

5. The thick rubber bumper... um awesome! I once ran up the back of someone (well it was more a bump that cost me $600.. yet to finish paying - end of july i think).. the impact is what caused the aforementioned indicator light to break.. but the bumper didnt even move :) I later (maybe a month or so) hit one of those waist high yellow cement poles while backing out (of course i was looking! ) and there was no damage whatso ever... or that i could tell :)

well I think I may just put her out of her misery.. i live near a train station.. its all good :)