Sherlock Holmes and the bee sting
Last week we went to Perth.
We stayed in Subiaco, and on Monday morning I was walking around Leederville when I got stung by a bee. I’ve been stung by a bee before, so didn’t worry too much: I was pretty sure I wouldn’t go into anaphylactic shock, or anything.
On Tuesday it was alright, but on Wednesday my arm turned into a red balloon (one of those long thin ones that clever people make into sausage dogs). It wasn’t all that sore, but it was extra desperately itchy.
On Thursday I caught the bus back to Geraldton, as Grant had to fly to Melbourne.
The bus driver put on a Sherlock Holmes movie, and in the movie a boy gets stung by a bee (how weird is that?) and Sherlock says: The difference between a bee sting and a wasp sting, is that a bee leaves his stinger in situ. (he may not have actually said “in situ”, I’m paraphrasing here)
So it has to be absolutely unassailably true if Sherlock Holmes said it.
I figured you wouldn’t want a picture of my bee stung arm, so I’ve given you a much nicer image, where Phoebe could potentially have got stung by a bee .
Ps. The results of the To smile or not to smile survey: 30 for smiling, 31 for not smiling. So, pretty even.
Oh, and my arm is nearly better, thanks.
Style tip # 64 82
Sunglasses are the best form of eye make-up.
If I was any good at photoshopping, I would flatten that bit of wayward hair.
Money for God’s sake
Art for art’s sake.
I was asked to do a rubbing of the brass grave marker plaque of Monsignor Hawes in the Utakarra cemetery chapel, by the Cathedral Precinct project. Monsignor Hawes had this made for himself in about 1936 because he thought he was going to spend his retirement in Geraldton, and be buried here.
He ended up going back to the Bahamas in 1939, and was buried there.
My image isn’t going to be used, as they have decided to exhibit an old one that was already hanging in the Cathedral.
It was an interesting exercise, nonetheless.
The rubbing will be on display in the new Cathedral Precinct when it opens in September.
How to do an insane belt part 2
Up until now, I haven’t usually been a belt wearer. But now that I have requisitioned Grant’s belt, How to do a ridiculously insane belt I’ve seen that it can be a waist changer.
I don’t really have much in the way of a waist; it just sort-of segues into my hips without much change in size. So why would I need to emphasize this fact?
However, I have found that the right size belt, of a dark (preferably black) colour, can have a strategic distraction effect and actually make you look like you have a waist.
So, about three and a half cm wide is a good width – not too narrow, not too wide. It’s also good to make it pretty long, so that you can do a twisty- turny thing at the end to create more strategic distraction.
Anyway, I have designed the drunken sailor pants Drunken Sailor pants, or Jodhpurs? so that you can wear a belt with them: when we go to Bali next time (in a few weeks) to get the samples made up for next winter, I will include a belt.
The shoe man Our totally indispensable co-driver should be able to make a belt how I want.
Ps I will write a blog later on to explain about strategic distraction. Watch this space.
To smile or not to smile?
Ok, that’s the question.
I’m getting a bit addicted to surveys, here.
So what I want to know is: how do you feel about a model smiling. Do you think she should smile? Or are you ok with her not smiling. Like Phoebe in this photo.
Which do you prefer? (You’re allowed to like both, but you’re not allowed to like neither.)
Kate from Canva
Kate from Canva (isn’t that a particularly fine example of alliteration?) emailed to thank me for mentioning Canva in a blog post Bigger things to think about Wasn’t that nice?
Do you think Mark Zuckerberg would email and thank me for mentioning facebook in a blog?
Do you like this image and logo that I made using Canva?
Do you think I’ve asked too many questions?
Roller Derby Queen
I went to the Roller Derby for the first time last night: The Mad Hatters vs The Rocky Horrors.
In the beginning, I didn’t understand a single thing that was happening, but after a while I started to get the hang of it, and it became pretty exciting. I couldn’t tell who was winning, but it didn’t matter. It looked evenly matched to me, though The Mad Hatters won by a fair bit.
At the end, my friend Roxanne (you remember Roxanne? My Friend Roxanne said) won the Most Valuable Player award.
She had a C drawn onto her arm, and her husband said: What’s the C for, Rox?
She looked at him and said: The C is for Captain, Adam, I am the Captain.
Well done Roxanne.