This one is another great idea for a home-made Christmas present. It costs very little and is easy to make.
Get an old jar (it doesn't matter what it looks like) and clean all the label off. It doesn't even need a lid. Now collect flowers whenever you see them, and add them bit by bit to the jar. Leave the jar on a warm windowsill, uncovered, so that the blossoms dry out. You can also add fragrant leaves like eucalyptus and lemon-scented geranium, or small buds of anything with an interesting scent. Remember to keep the flower heads whenever a dead bunch of flowers is going into the bin!
Once you have a good amount that's nicely dried out, add a few drops of your favourite scent. You can even use inexpensive perfume for this (keep an eye out at garage sales and dollar stores). You can add bulk to the mix with pine cones, small leaves, or even pieces of bark and stems.
To give it as a gift, you can present it in a few different ways. It can go in a cellophane bag tied with a ribbon or twine; you can give it in a nice fancy jar, a small inexpensive jewellery box, a nick-nack container (check your second-hand shops!) or you can even click here to make a simple box from origami - you just make two, one slightly bigger for the lid. Even an old bottle would be suitable as long as you can get the potpourri inside!
06 October, 2010
05 October, 2010
Gifts in a Jar: Bubblebath
Probably the simplest home-made gift ever, but it can still be really nice.
Get a pretty jar from your local dollar store or second hand shop. You could even use an old wine bottle if it has a screw-top lid. Clean well and remove any labels.
Back at your dollar store, find some nice-smelling bubble bath or shower gel. (Optional: perfume, essential oil or other scent if you wish to add it).
Fill the bottle with the bubble bath. Make a pretty label on your computer, or decorate a small gift card to attach to the bottle. You can dress the bottle up with ribbons, a bow, a silk rose, or raffia. If you wish, you can add a sprig of rosemary to clear bottles to add to the look. For kids, put in a small toy and decorate with stickers. Check more bottle-decorating ideas by looking at images on Google - some of them are just amazing!
01 October, 2010
Phew, it's been a while
And I haven't blogged in so long that I've forgotten how to type. Maybe.
I've been a busy little bee today in the kitchen, baking a cake for Jay's 14th birthday tomorrow. When it comes to cakes... and my cooking "skills"... um, there aren't any. I can cook an ordinary packet mix and it will taste acceptable, but the aesthetics of my decorating leave much to be desired. So today, much as I expected, my cake tastes like pretty much nothing. The banana can be detected (this is acceptable) but the chocolate cannot, and this is, well, disappointing if not unsurprising.
The real surprise so far is having extracted the cake from the tin without it disintegrating. I pondered how horribly sweet the icing would be on a tasteless cake and went a'Googling, and discovered Ganache. It's now cooling so that I can check if it will be thick enough not to slide off the cake in a gooey mess.
My industriousness has led to me thinking about Christmas. It's late for an Aussie to begin thinking about Christmas. It's ridiculously early for a Finn to, since the over-commercialisation of Christmas hasn't yet saturated the Helsinki streets, and you can wander into a shop on December 23 here and be out of the checkout in five minutes flat.
I have a few tried and tested ideas for do-it-yourself gifts, and I'd like to add a few more. Stay tuned... but don't hold your breath in case I completely forget to post anymore!
I've been a busy little bee today in the kitchen, baking a cake for Jay's 14th birthday tomorrow. When it comes to cakes... and my cooking "skills"... um, there aren't any. I can cook an ordinary packet mix and it will taste acceptable, but the aesthetics of my decorating leave much to be desired. So today, much as I expected, my cake tastes like pretty much nothing. The banana can be detected (this is acceptable) but the chocolate cannot, and this is, well, disappointing if not unsurprising.
The real surprise so far is having extracted the cake from the tin without it disintegrating. I pondered how horribly sweet the icing would be on a tasteless cake and went a'Googling, and discovered Ganache. It's now cooling so that I can check if it will be thick enough not to slide off the cake in a gooey mess.
My industriousness has led to me thinking about Christmas. It's late for an Aussie to begin thinking about Christmas. It's ridiculously early for a Finn to, since the over-commercialisation of Christmas hasn't yet saturated the Helsinki streets, and you can wander into a shop on December 23 here and be out of the checkout in five minutes flat.
I have a few tried and tested ideas for do-it-yourself gifts, and I'd like to add a few more. Stay tuned... but don't hold your breath in case I completely forget to post anymore!
18 September, 2010
05 August, 2010
Icecream
Day 1
To child A: Here's some money, go and buy yourself an icecream. (Goes and buys self an icecream)
Day 2
Child B: She got an icecream yesterday, so I want an icecream too. (Holds out hand for the money, goes off to buy self an icecream).
*** ***
Child B comes home with a box of 6 icecreams.
Parent decides that's good value, however, the intention was for the child to have ONE icecream. As a compromise, she will allow him to have 3 of the icecreams, and everyone else in the family may have one of the icecreams each.
Boy has screaming fit about them being his icecreams and his money. Boy cannot understand the concept of "Mum was only offering one icecream, regardless of the cost of the icecream and the fact that your sister spent that much and only got one for her money".
Golden family times.
To child A: Here's some money, go and buy yourself an icecream. (Goes and buys self an icecream)
Day 2
Child B: She got an icecream yesterday, so I want an icecream too. (Holds out hand for the money, goes off to buy self an icecream).
*** ***
Child B comes home with a box of 6 icecreams.
Parent decides that's good value, however, the intention was for the child to have ONE icecream. As a compromise, she will allow him to have 3 of the icecreams, and everyone else in the family may have one of the icecreams each.
Boy has screaming fit about them being his icecreams and his money. Boy cannot understand the concept of "Mum was only offering one icecream, regardless of the cost of the icecream and the fact that your sister spent that much and only got one for her money".
Golden family times.
07 July, 2010
Generation Alpha
I've discovered that I can (successfully) disassemble a laptop, remove and clean the fan, and reassemble it. It turns out that if you remove a solid chunk of built-up animal hair, the running temperature reduces from near-silicone-overheat-forced-power-off-point down to a much more pleasant 40.
I now have a whole new admiration for laptop computer engineers. There's not a square millimetre of wasted space in those things. I kept identifying parts and thinking, whoa, that's tiny! The components are all like... techonogical and stuff.*
I've also learned today that: not only are Baby Boomers greedy, and Generation X whiny, broke, perpetual uni students, and Gen Y selfish tech-savvy brats who never move out of home, but... some of the Generation Z are now already into their teens. And it gets worse. The first of the next generation are being born and they don't really have a name for them. ("Kids Born After 2009" just doesn't have much of a ring to it.) Some people are calling them Generation Alpha, but it's slow to catch on. Probably because everyone, like me, is still learning that Gen Z even exists, let alone that they're being superceded. I suppose most sociologists (being Gen X'ers) are either busy with their Gen Y teenagers or potty training their Gen Zs.
I've decided to do my bit for sociology and help promote the name.
Congratulations to my school classmate Kerry, who this week welcomed her first grandchild to the world. It's probably also the first grandchild from our year, too. Bring on the rest of Generation Alpha!
(Note: My children have already been STRONGLY warned not to bring any Gen Alpha into the world on my watch. I'm terrified enough of grey hair caused by my own children!)
* "techonogical" is not a typeoh.
I now have a whole new admiration for laptop computer engineers. There's not a square millimetre of wasted space in those things. I kept identifying parts and thinking, whoa, that's tiny! The components are all like... techonogical and stuff.*
I've also learned today that: not only are Baby Boomers greedy, and Generation X whiny, broke, perpetual uni students, and Gen Y selfish tech-savvy brats who never move out of home, but... some of the Generation Z are now already into their teens. And it gets worse. The first of the next generation are being born and they don't really have a name for them. ("Kids Born After 2009" just doesn't have much of a ring to it.) Some people are calling them Generation Alpha, but it's slow to catch on. Probably because everyone, like me, is still learning that Gen Z even exists, let alone that they're being superceded. I suppose most sociologists (being Gen X'ers) are either busy with their Gen Y teenagers or potty training their Gen Zs.
I've decided to do my bit for sociology and help promote the name.
Congratulations to my school classmate Kerry, who this week welcomed her first grandchild to the world. It's probably also the first grandchild from our year, too. Bring on the rest of Generation Alpha!
(Note: My children have already been STRONGLY warned not to bring any Gen Alpha into the world on my watch. I'm terrified enough of grey hair caused by my own children!)
* "techonogical" is not a typeoh.
06 June, 2010
Observations
My son just noticed something funny as we were having a conversation about cosmetic surgery. We were discussing lip filler injections, lip plumping creams, the bee-stung lip look, celebrities with too much lip filler, people who put so much crap into their mouths that they look like a duck - that sort of thing. EVERYONE in the conversation, at different times, stuck their lips out in a duck face, just to try it out.
Try it out one day with your friends and laugh as they all pull the face.
A friend of his sent an email this week with a bunch of fun facts. Whether they are all fact, I'm not so sure. For instance, I happen to KNOW that it is possible to sneeze without blinking. (Yes, I tried it. It's pretty difficult though.)
But one fact said it's impossible for you to touch all your top teeth with your tongue at once.
And you're trying it now, aren't you?
And you're grinning like an idiot too, aren't you? Hahahaha!
Try it out one day with your friends and laugh as they all pull the face.
A friend of his sent an email this week with a bunch of fun facts. Whether they are all fact, I'm not so sure. For instance, I happen to KNOW that it is possible to sneeze without blinking. (Yes, I tried it. It's pretty difficult though.)
But one fact said it's impossible for you to touch all your top teeth with your tongue at once.
And you're trying it now, aren't you?
And you're grinning like an idiot too, aren't you? Hahahaha!
04 May, 2010
03 May, 2010
Thoughts to Ponder
Cars. Public streets. The right of the driver to, um, merrily park their car on a street.
A friend of mine was verbally abused today for daring park her car on a public street where there happened to be an adjacent house. I might add, there were no legal parking restrictions either.
The crime: for parking her car there and thus waking the resident baby. Also, she was apparently guilty of being a "dwarf c$#%". The lady in question is neither the latter word nor a dwarf.
Now I've raised a baby or two myself, including one who apparently thought (still thinks) that SLEEP KILLS!, and therefore should be avoided at all costs and for as long as possible. Amongst a fog of depression and insanity I can vaguely remember the sheer frustration of this typically-baby behaviour. I was probably capable of screaming abuse at a complete stranger, had I possessed the energy to get off the couch and draw breath.
But c'mon. Using an expression like that, at a complete stranger, who did nothing but park her car? The abovementioned screaming abuse... I'm sure I would have reserved it for a stranger who, say, honked her horn. Or revved her car while the muffler was missing. Or who belted on my front door and rang the doorbell repeatedly, barged in, and then shook the baby's bed until the kid woke up.
Personally (placing the inexcusable choice of words aside for a moment), I'm pointing the blame squarely at any parent whose kid is so sensitive to noise that they wake up from the sound of traffic. If you want your kid to sleep, don't get them depending on utter silence. I'm not suggesting you run a cement mixer full of bricks next to the baby's bed. But if the kid can't cope with an adult conversation in the living area... or say, a passing motorist... well then, good luck when they're 5 and can hear a 9pm movie on the tv that they'd like to watch.
A friend of mine was verbally abused today for daring park her car on a public street where there happened to be an adjacent house. I might add, there were no legal parking restrictions either.
The crime: for parking her car there and thus waking the resident baby. Also, she was apparently guilty of being a "dwarf c$#%". The lady in question is neither the latter word nor a dwarf.
Now I've raised a baby or two myself, including one who apparently thought (still thinks) that SLEEP KILLS!, and therefore should be avoided at all costs and for as long as possible. Amongst a fog of depression and insanity I can vaguely remember the sheer frustration of this typically-baby behaviour. I was probably capable of screaming abuse at a complete stranger, had I possessed the energy to get off the couch and draw breath.
But c'mon. Using an expression like that, at a complete stranger, who did nothing but park her car? The abovementioned screaming abuse... I'm sure I would have reserved it for a stranger who, say, honked her horn. Or revved her car while the muffler was missing. Or who belted on my front door and rang the doorbell repeatedly, barged in, and then shook the baby's bed until the kid woke up.
Personally (placing the inexcusable choice of words aside for a moment), I'm pointing the blame squarely at any parent whose kid is so sensitive to noise that they wake up from the sound of traffic. If you want your kid to sleep, don't get them depending on utter silence. I'm not suggesting you run a cement mixer full of bricks next to the baby's bed. But if the kid can't cope with an adult conversation in the living area... or say, a passing motorist... well then, good luck when they're 5 and can hear a 9pm movie on the tv that they'd like to watch.
02 May, 2010
Loose Threads.
1. We invited my mother-in-law for Sunday dinner today and I made a lamb roast. (Above picture is not my lamb roast - photo posed by models.) The oven was too hot and the lamb was ready a whole HOUR earlier than it should have been (and by the time we realised, the lamb had shrunk dramatically and was already well done). I forgot to cook the onions. The carrots were raw. The meat was so tough that poor husband took a long, long time to carve it. The gravy was subsequently half cold by the time we ate. Lessons learned: 160 degrees on the oven, remember the onions, and I desperately need to learn time-management for my meals.
2. The potatoes, fried in the pan juices and marinade, were fantastic. Marinade: garlic, mixed herbs, oil, mild American mustard, steak spice, vinegar, pepper, salt and lemon juice.
3. I did figure out the secret to the bread. Well, two secrets. One is that you need to weigh the flour instead of measuring by a cup. The real discovery though, was that an overripe (black) banana thrown into the dough makes it perfect. The bread is lighter in texture, softer, and doesn't taste like banana.
4. My house in Wellington is sold! Well, 90% sold, as contracts have exchanged. It will be such a relief, and my poor mother will be able to stop running around like crazy over this.
01 May, 2010
It's Preposterous
...to be asked to shell out for something which should be free.
The disturbing part is how many airlines are openly flouting the law. I'm referring, of course, to the recent flight disruptions associated with the eruption of the Icelandic volcano, Eyjafiallajökull.
(I hope I've pronounced that correctly.)
According to EU law, anyone unable to travel thanks to a cancelled flight has certain rights. These include (but aren't limited to) accommodation, taxi to and from the airport, meals and two phone calls. These rights are not affected regardless of whether the airline was at fault, and they still apply if the cancellations were caused by a natural disaster such as a huge load of ash in the sky.
While I have no doubt that the law was intended for times that the unforseeable was limited to, say, one whole plane that couldn't fly, or one whole runway closed, or one whole airport closed, or one whole country's airspace closed - for better or for worse, there is NO CLAUSE in the law which allows an airline to get out of these obligations, regardless whose fault it was.
Ok, ok, I'm just a blogger, don't take my word for it. Check out the plain English version of this law on Wikipedia here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regulation_261/2004 .
Ok, ok, Wikipedia isn't always accurate - so if you're brave, the actual legal text is here http://eur-lex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=CELEX:32004R0261:EN:HTML:NOT . Note carefully: it's written quite clearly that if the disaster wasn't the airlines' fault, they get out of paying compensation money. But there is nothing saying they get out of providing the hotel, taxi, food and phone calls.
This law extends OUTSIDE the EU when a passenger is flying into, or out of, the EU. So yes, if the customer is stuck in the USA but trying to get to the EU - they're still covered by the law. So it's particularly galling that airlines are flat out saying "no". I have heard first-hand from passengers that the airlines are saying they won't. They are also refusing to give passengers a copy of the regulation - which by law, they must do.
These reports are coming from at least one airlines' Official Facebook page. Not mentioning any particular airlines (let's just say it's three letters in the alphabet, in a row, and is vaguely royal and reminds me of clogs and windmills). Shame, shame, shame. One airline's partner in the USA is even telling passengers they're entitled to these things, and directing passengers to call their airline - and yet the call centre of the airline itself is still saying no? Shame on you. I think you'd better get your collective story straight, before someone thinks to start a class action suit, don't you?
I've been very lucky that (touch wood) my flights aren't affected by the ash. I've been "fortunate" enough to have important legal documents badly delayed by the disruptions though, and I can only imagine the distress of people who were stuck on the wrong side of the world for weeks on end, without the cash to feed and shelter themselves. Airlines saying no should have been horribly embarrassed to allow that.
But in a dirty nod to a rather entrepeneurial UK-based airline Flybe, I have just received an email with this abhorrant invitation enclosed.
Note carefully:
(1) They're offering to provide accommodation if I'm unable to depart. This is the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
(2) Car hire: If I can't leave home, why would I need this?
(3) Ferry: I presume they're offering this instead of a flight. If they don't fly me, they MUST either get me there some other way (like say, a ferry) or give me a full refund. Paying for insurance to get a ferry doesn't look quite so attractive when it's the slower, lesser-value solution they had to give me for free anyway.
Or, let's look at the second part.
(1) Accommodation if I'm stuck and can't get home. This is the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
(2) Travel expenses... hrm, do you mean like meals when I haven't got a kitchen to cook in, and a taxi back to the airport because I haven't got a car, and a few phone calls because I haven't got a phone? These things are ALL the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
So, let's sum up what my calculations say that I get for the value price of £6.99 per person per leg (total cost: £55.92):
Nothing.
What an... attractive... deal, Flybe. Sign me up for a dozen.
The disturbing part is how many airlines are openly flouting the law. I'm referring, of course, to the recent flight disruptions associated with the eruption of the Icelandic volcano, Eyjafiallajökull.
(I hope I've pronounced that correctly.)
According to EU law, anyone unable to travel thanks to a cancelled flight has certain rights. These include (but aren't limited to) accommodation, taxi to and from the airport, meals and two phone calls. These rights are not affected regardless of whether the airline was at fault, and they still apply if the cancellations were caused by a natural disaster such as a huge load of ash in the sky.
While I have no doubt that the law was intended for times that the unforseeable was limited to, say, one whole plane that couldn't fly, or one whole runway closed, or one whole airport closed, or one whole country's airspace closed - for better or for worse, there is NO CLAUSE in the law which allows an airline to get out of these obligations, regardless whose fault it was.
Ok, ok, I'm just a blogger, don't take my word for it. Check out the plain English version of this law on Wikipedia here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regulation_261/2004 .
Ok, ok, Wikipedia isn't always accurate - so if you're brave, the actual legal text is here http://eur-lex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=CELEX:32004R0261:EN:HTML:NOT . Note carefully: it's written quite clearly that if the disaster wasn't the airlines' fault, they get out of paying compensation money. But there is nothing saying they get out of providing the hotel, taxi, food and phone calls.
This law extends OUTSIDE the EU when a passenger is flying into, or out of, the EU. So yes, if the customer is stuck in the USA but trying to get to the EU - they're still covered by the law. So it's particularly galling that airlines are flat out saying "no". I have heard first-hand from passengers that the airlines are saying they won't. They are also refusing to give passengers a copy of the regulation - which by law, they must do.
These reports are coming from at least one airlines' Official Facebook page. Not mentioning any particular airlines (let's just say it's three letters in the alphabet, in a row, and is vaguely royal and reminds me of clogs and windmills). Shame, shame, shame. One airline's partner in the USA is even telling passengers they're entitled to these things, and directing passengers to call their airline - and yet the call centre of the airline itself is still saying no? Shame on you. I think you'd better get your collective story straight, before someone thinks to start a class action suit, don't you?
I've been very lucky that (touch wood) my flights aren't affected by the ash. I've been "fortunate" enough to have important legal documents badly delayed by the disruptions though, and I can only imagine the distress of people who were stuck on the wrong side of the world for weeks on end, without the cash to feed and shelter themselves. Airlines saying no should have been horribly embarrassed to allow that.
But in a dirty nod to a rather entrepeneurial UK-based airline Flybe, I have just received an email with this abhorrant invitation enclosed.
Note carefully: (1) They're offering to provide accommodation if I'm unable to depart. This is the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
(2) Car hire: If I can't leave home, why would I need this?
(3) Ferry: I presume they're offering this instead of a flight. If they don't fly me, they MUST either get me there some other way (like say, a ferry) or give me a full refund. Paying for insurance to get a ferry doesn't look quite so attractive when it's the slower, lesser-value solution they had to give me for free anyway.
Or, let's look at the second part.
(1) Accommodation if I'm stuck and can't get home. This is the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
(2) Travel expenses... hrm, do you mean like meals when I haven't got a kitchen to cook in, and a taxi back to the airport because I haven't got a car, and a few phone calls because I haven't got a phone? These things are ALL the responsibility of the airline even if I don't buy the insurance.
So, let's sum up what my calculations say that I get for the value price of £6.99 per person per leg (total cost: £55.92):
Nothing.
What an... attractive... deal, Flybe. Sign me up for a dozen.
29 April, 2010
The Seven-Legged Spider
If you, like me, enjoy a good clever chain email filled with wit, you'll have heard the story of the seven-legged spider. (Yes, yes, I recognise the paradox in that sentence: deal with it.)
If you haven't heard the story, read this page and then come back here.
I've been spending many an hour of late perusing the other articles on that site. I could wax lyrical on the sheer genius that is David Thorne. I could waste valuable time patting the heads of the righteously indignant, reassuring them that he only has an audience because people like them throw tantrums.* But I won't, because those people prefer tantrums to paying attention to wisdom, and that's eleventy bajillion minutes of my life that I'll never get back.
So in leiu of such a panacea, I have redeemed myself by inviting more than a thousand people to the birthday party of a complete stranger (a friend of a friend) who publically listed her birthday drinks on Facebook.
* I SO wanted to write "tanties" there, because thowing a tanty is infinitely more tough than throwing a tantrum, but for those who didn't understand what a tanty is, the graceful flow of my repartee would have been irrevocably lost.
If you haven't heard the story, read this page and then come back here.
I've been spending many an hour of late perusing the other articles on that site. I could wax lyrical on the sheer genius that is David Thorne. I could waste valuable time patting the heads of the righteously indignant, reassuring them that he only has an audience because people like them throw tantrums.* But I won't, because those people prefer tantrums to paying attention to wisdom, and that's eleventy bajillion minutes of my life that I'll never get back.
So in leiu of such a panacea, I have redeemed myself by inviting more than a thousand people to the birthday party of a complete stranger (a friend of a friend) who publically listed her birthday drinks on Facebook.
* I SO wanted to write "tanties" there, because thowing a tanty is infinitely more tough than throwing a tantrum, but for those who didn't understand what a tanty is, the graceful flow of my repartee would have been irrevocably lost.
14 April, 2010
Hmmm writing?
So I've submitted an article to Helium for the first time in ages. I wasn't too enthused about the subject though, and it shows (currently ranking just above the middle). I need to put some quality in. Maybe next time? Blah.
Tonight I attempted home made pizza. The base was absolutely fantastic! I did have to add more flour than the recipe asked for, but that's ok, all flours are different. I made the dough in the breadmaker and threw in 4 tsp of pizza herbs to it. Pizza dough recipe
The toppings weren't so perfect though. I made one with barbecue sauce, because I ran out of tomato. It was ok, but overall the pizzas were a bit sweet (pineapple and sweet corn overdose). It needed something more on the salty side of things. Still, I can still award myself 7 out of 10, quite respectable for a first attempt. And the crust was a 9.
Tonight I attempted home made pizza. The base was absolutely fantastic! I did have to add more flour than the recipe asked for, but that's ok, all flours are different. I made the dough in the breadmaker and threw in 4 tsp of pizza herbs to it. Pizza dough recipe
The toppings weren't so perfect though. I made one with barbecue sauce, because I ran out of tomato. It was ok, but overall the pizzas were a bit sweet (pineapple and sweet corn overdose). It needed something more on the salty side of things. Still, I can still award myself 7 out of 10, quite respectable for a first attempt. And the crust was a 9.
11 April, 2010
Finnish Lessons: 2010
Over the Winter, my Finnish has basically frozen in time, just like the weather. I'm now in yet another beginner class. The grammar is just fine, I can read and write the lessons no problems. I can merrily parrot the answers to the teacher's written questions. Unfortunately, the moment anyone opens their mouth and speaks to me in Finnish, the babelfish in my ear turns it into perfect Swahili. It's not an exaggeration either - (well, maybe the Swahili thing is) - I'm presently on my 12th teacher and bored stupid by the course contents, but utterly unable to undertand what the teacher actually says.
The part that's REALLY sad isn't that I'm crap at oral Finnish. The part that's saddest is that when I confessed this to a classmate, she knew exactly what I meant. A bystander overheard and admitted that she, too, had done this class before and had returned because she couldn't use any of the grammar she'd been taught. Incredulous, I asked one of the guys. Same old story. People all over the place manage to grasp grammatical structures but never actually speak Finnish outside the classroom.
So an epiphany of sorts is just waiting to be seen by the powers that be. Newspapers reporters churn out article after article about how "difficult" Finnish grammar is and how Finland simply MUST spend more on teaching the grammar to the immigrants. Universities conduct studies on newcomers and find that nobody finds the Finnish courses very useful. Staff examine the course contents ad nauseum, writing new books and inventing different approaches to the same thing: imparting the grammar. And all for naught.
It isn't grammar alone we need to learn. Books can do that; why attend a class if I can study a grammar book at home? Will learning to create a perfect sentence help me, if speaking a sentence is so awkward? Isn't it better to talk "like a weird foreigner", my mumblings full of grammatical errors, but knowing enough to get my meaning across?
We need to practice speaking. PRACTICE; what a concept! Guess what, universities, hosting a conversation class is cheap - just take a copy of the Metro into class, no other preparation required. No photocopying, no exams to mark. Just have conversations about different topics. Or is that too simple?
Jam 5 immigrants into a classroom with a teacher and no pens, papers or books. Lock the door for an hour a day. They'll learn more in that 60 minutes than in the last 60 hours of homework.
The part that's REALLY sad isn't that I'm crap at oral Finnish. The part that's saddest is that when I confessed this to a classmate, she knew exactly what I meant. A bystander overheard and admitted that she, too, had done this class before and had returned because she couldn't use any of the grammar she'd been taught. Incredulous, I asked one of the guys. Same old story. People all over the place manage to grasp grammatical structures but never actually speak Finnish outside the classroom.
So an epiphany of sorts is just waiting to be seen by the powers that be. Newspapers reporters churn out article after article about how "difficult" Finnish grammar is and how Finland simply MUST spend more on teaching the grammar to the immigrants. Universities conduct studies on newcomers and find that nobody finds the Finnish courses very useful. Staff examine the course contents ad nauseum, writing new books and inventing different approaches to the same thing: imparting the grammar. And all for naught.
It isn't grammar alone we need to learn. Books can do that; why attend a class if I can study a grammar book at home? Will learning to create a perfect sentence help me, if speaking a sentence is so awkward? Isn't it better to talk "like a weird foreigner", my mumblings full of grammatical errors, but knowing enough to get my meaning across?
We need to practice speaking. PRACTICE; what a concept! Guess what, universities, hosting a conversation class is cheap - just take a copy of the Metro into class, no other preparation required. No photocopying, no exams to mark. Just have conversations about different topics. Or is that too simple?
Jam 5 immigrants into a classroom with a teacher and no pens, papers or books. Lock the door for an hour a day. They'll learn more in that 60 minutes than in the last 60 hours of homework.
Resurrection
You know what's weird? This blog (untouched for quite a while through sheer laziness on my part) is still consistently getting 10-ish unique hits a day. I wonder if they're all bots?
So as you might have gathered, I hammered the "post" button a few dozen times today and spewed out a bunch of posts I'd written a while ago, which had been sitting idle backstage. The dates aren't necessarily accurate and suddenly I've gone from Christmas preparation posts to the present day - when the snow is melting and Spring is peeking at us in sporadic bursts. Do not adjust your set, etc.
So as you might have gathered, I hammered the "post" button a few dozen times today and spewed out a bunch of posts I'd written a while ago, which had been sitting idle backstage. The dates aren't necessarily accurate and suddenly I've gone from Christmas preparation posts to the present day - when the snow is melting and Spring is peeking at us in sporadic bursts. Do not adjust your set, etc.
29 November, 2009
The Great Deodorant Debacle
So there comes a time in a girl's life where she forgets the wisdom of old: Never skimp on hygiene products. Specifically, my usual deodorants are strictly limited to two brands, both of which are on the more expensive end of the deodorant price scale. I learned this piece of wisdom the hard way.
Yes, dear readers, I've tried many of those in the Australian list, and found most of them rather ineffective. But in my new city I have discovered the local discount supermarkets. To be fair to the shop concerned, their body wash products are fantastic. They smell delicious, and, well, as long as soap does the whole "washing" thing, the smell is really my only other consideration.
Nor have their cookies disappointed, for I can gleefully tuck away copious amounts of gingerbread snaps while my husband looks on in horror (not for my expanding waistband, but for the awful concept of actually eating gingerbread).
And so we come to the conundrum of this week. My old faithful deodorant, imported with me, finally ran out, and I was forced to buy more. And in a moment of sheer frivolity I decided to try the house brand.
Of course, no deodorant purchase is complete without the smell contest. Several varieties were rejected based on the unattractive scent contained within. Finally I discovered one which passed the test: the price was right, the description was encouraging, and it smelled suitably non-specific "lady".
The next morning happened to see me in Finnish class, wearing my new deodorant. Sadly, minutes into the lesson, I dared move my arms. I was assaulted by a stench so powerful I was rendered mute with horror (and this was fortunate... after all, who would want to announce the fact that they stink?). For a moment I wondered if I had forgotten to apply deodorant... but no, I had not.
Alas, my new purchase, which had smelled so benign in the shop, had a secret. In practice it replicated perfectly the stink of obnoxious locker-room sweat. If there was an international prize for "Best Approximation Of Body Odour", we'd have a clear-cut winner. There's only one problem. As far as I'm aware, deodorants are supposed to suppress such a smell, not create it.
Yes, dear readers, I've tried many of those in the Australian list, and found most of them rather ineffective. But in my new city I have discovered the local discount supermarkets. To be fair to the shop concerned, their body wash products are fantastic. They smell delicious, and, well, as long as soap does the whole "washing" thing, the smell is really my only other consideration.
Nor have their cookies disappointed, for I can gleefully tuck away copious amounts of gingerbread snaps while my husband looks on in horror (not for my expanding waistband, but for the awful concept of actually eating gingerbread).
And so we come to the conundrum of this week. My old faithful deodorant, imported with me, finally ran out, and I was forced to buy more. And in a moment of sheer frivolity I decided to try the house brand.
Of course, no deodorant purchase is complete without the smell contest. Several varieties were rejected based on the unattractive scent contained within. Finally I discovered one which passed the test: the price was right, the description was encouraging, and it smelled suitably non-specific "lady".
The next morning happened to see me in Finnish class, wearing my new deodorant. Sadly, minutes into the lesson, I dared move my arms. I was assaulted by a stench so powerful I was rendered mute with horror (and this was fortunate... after all, who would want to announce the fact that they stink?). For a moment I wondered if I had forgotten to apply deodorant... but no, I had not.
Alas, my new purchase, which had smelled so benign in the shop, had a secret. In practice it replicated perfectly the stink of obnoxious locker-room sweat. If there was an international prize for "Best Approximation Of Body Odour", we'd have a clear-cut winner. There's only one problem. As far as I'm aware, deodorants are supposed to suppress such a smell, not create it.
21 November, 2009
In Which I Assume The Correct Position
To cope with Christmas preparations, of course. Because it's imperative that one does so correctly. (Just for a second there, I was channeling Hyacinth Bucket.)
I confess to being a little bit lost here. I kinda know how to do Christmas Aussie-style, ya know? Copious amounts of lazy food and gaudy decorations, and gifting being a "generous" thing. I get the feeling people just aren't so present-centred here. And that's fine, but I really don't quite know how not or how much and it's a bit befuddling. The issue is, really, that my kids are quite used to the Down Under version and I don't want their Christmas too horridly scarred by it being (compared to usual) a too low-key an event. So really, I'm probably overcompensating, and then maybe it will be remembered as the year Christmas was all screwed up by the freaky Australian woman who overdid everything. Since when do I worry about stuffz like this anyway?
I confess to being a little bit lost here. I kinda know how to do Christmas Aussie-style, ya know? Copious amounts of lazy food and gaudy decorations, and gifting being a "generous" thing. I get the feeling people just aren't so present-centred here. And that's fine, but I really don't quite know how not or how much and it's a bit befuddling. The issue is, really, that my kids are quite used to the Down Under version and I don't want their Christmas too horridly scarred by it being (compared to usual) a too low-key an event. So really, I'm probably overcompensating, and then maybe it will be remembered as the year Christmas was all screwed up by the freaky Australian woman who overdid everything. Since when do I worry about stuffz like this anyway?
18 November, 2009
FIGJAM
For those of you not conversant with super-special-awesome-abbrev., it stands for F%@k I'm Good, Just Ask Me. You know, that state of mind where you're so full of your own brilliance that you almost break your wrist trying to pat yourself on the back and grope your own arse. I get that way sometimes reading my previous blog entries. But today, there was a second sensation interwoven: mainly something like, "Damn, how the hell did I write stuffz that good?"
Sometimes I forget that I'm a published writer. Sometimes I wonder if I'm intermittently possessed by an alien space being who knows how to write - and that in the interim moments I'm replaced with a dull Australian girl from the streets of ghetto Sydney whose Task Of The Week is to learn to tie her own shoelaces.
My Finnish lessons are going well. I've almost exhausted my supply of "things I already know and am merely revising", and in some ways it's akin to being in the front of the speeding train while the brick wall looms ahead at the end of the tunnel. When I reach that point, my friends and neighbours, I'll fall rapidly from the top of the class, hurtling downwards to take my proper place in the gutter amongst thedregs of society beginner students.
At that point I suppose I shall see whether I have regained any of my childhood ability to learn stuff. I'll keep you posted.
Sometimes I forget that I'm a published writer. Sometimes I wonder if I'm intermittently possessed by an alien space being who knows how to write - and that in the interim moments I'm replaced with a dull Australian girl from the streets of ghetto Sydney whose Task Of The Week is to learn to tie her own shoelaces.
My Finnish lessons are going well. I've almost exhausted my supply of "things I already know and am merely revising", and in some ways it's akin to being in the front of the speeding train while the brick wall looms ahead at the end of the tunnel. When I reach that point, my friends and neighbours, I'll fall rapidly from the top of the class, hurtling downwards to take my proper place in the gutter amongst the
At that point I suppose I shall see whether I have regained any of my childhood ability to learn stuff. I'll keep you posted.
15 October, 2009
School x2 (Warning! Rant Enclosed)
My turn for school. I have enrolled in basically the only course vacancy I could find - emphasis on "basically", because it's a basic course. This is the third time I've started from the beginning. So far I'm enjoying it. Not really learning anything new, but it is still good to shake out the rusty brain and practice the things that were trying to disappear from my neurons. I'm almost to the end now and have enrolled for the continuing course. And almost at the point where the material is new. :)
The children, on the other hand, are annoying hubby and I. Or more precisely, their schooling is much cause for concern. After a month at school they came home with their first exam papers, and to my horror, it was nothing but "write the name of the item under the picture". ARGH. An entire month and all they've been taught is the words for mouth, nose, run, jump? For Pete's sake.
I wrote a rather terse email to the teacher to advise him that the darlings know how to conjugate verbs and that perhaps they could come home with the so-called "daily homework" he had promised and which I'd yet to see even once. Fast forward one week and Aria presents her new school textbook; she's almost in tears, because she was expected to complete a certain page. On looking at the book, the work is way beyond what she understands. It was chockablock full of complex grammar and tenses, using vocabulary she couldn't even attempt to guess. Hell, it was way beyond me, and I'm supposedly way beyond her. Hubby was aghast.
I think I must have asked poor hubby four or five times: Is it too much to ask, that her TEACHER should know her level? Have a vague idea of what she can and can't do? Know, regardless of his level of English, how she is at FINNISH? You know, by doing an ASSESSMENT?
I know school is different here, but I thought that was a gimme! Teachers assess pupils, right? How can you know whether a child is moving toward a goal if you don't know where they started and whether they're progressing from one level to the next?
Today the maths exams came home. Aria scored abysmally on one of them, chiefly because the questions were all written out in words - in Finnish. I know they have to learn to do their exams in Finnish, but when nobody tells you what the words say, it's grossly unfair to merrily score them 7/24 on MATHS. There's a space on the page where I'm expected to sign my name, and return the page to the teacher. If I have to send that paper back to the school, there will be more than my signature in that space, let me tell you.
The children, on the other hand, are annoying hubby and I. Or more precisely, their schooling is much cause for concern. After a month at school they came home with their first exam papers, and to my horror, it was nothing but "write the name of the item under the picture". ARGH. An entire month and all they've been taught is the words for mouth, nose, run, jump? For Pete's sake.
I wrote a rather terse email to the teacher to advise him that the darlings know how to conjugate verbs and that perhaps they could come home with the so-called "daily homework" he had promised and which I'd yet to see even once. Fast forward one week and Aria presents her new school textbook; she's almost in tears, because she was expected to complete a certain page. On looking at the book, the work is way beyond what she understands. It was chockablock full of complex grammar and tenses, using vocabulary she couldn't even attempt to guess. Hell, it was way beyond me, and I'm supposedly way beyond her. Hubby was aghast.
I think I must have asked poor hubby four or five times: Is it too much to ask, that her TEACHER should know her level? Have a vague idea of what she can and can't do? Know, regardless of his level of English, how she is at FINNISH? You know, by doing an ASSESSMENT?
I know school is different here, but I thought that was a gimme! Teachers assess pupils, right? How can you know whether a child is moving toward a goal if you don't know where they started and whether they're progressing from one level to the next?
Today the maths exams came home. Aria scored abysmally on one of them, chiefly because the questions were all written out in words - in Finnish. I know they have to learn to do their exams in Finnish, but when nobody tells you what the words say, it's grossly unfair to merrily score them 7/24 on MATHS. There's a space on the page where I'm expected to sign my name, and return the page to the teacher. If I have to send that paper back to the school, there will be more than my signature in that space, let me tell you.
25 August, 2009
School
The kids have started it, and it's a bit of a mixed thing really. As predicted, the opinions on its merits swing wildly between "awesome" and "suX0r", if you care to ask the children. They're particularly displeased about some mornings beginning at 8am.
Overall they seem fairly ok about it all though. I can only imagine how tough it must be when you don't really know anyone and the teacher resists translating to English.
Jay complained about this loudly during the week, and then commented, "How can we ever learn Finnish if we don't understand what he says?!" Then not five seconds later he said, "Half the kids in my class all know heaps of Finnish, they 'blah-blah-blah' so fast!" I waited a moment to see if he understood how those two sentences were related, but no penny dropped. I had to explain that perhaps the teachers' idea about using exclusively Finnish might have had something to do with the fact that the other kids had learned a fair amount of Finnish in his class. Jay wasn't impressed. We shall see how much soaks into their brains over the next nine months.
Overall they seem fairly ok about it all though. I can only imagine how tough it must be when you don't really know anyone and the teacher resists translating to English.
Jay complained about this loudly during the week, and then commented, "How can we ever learn Finnish if we don't understand what he says?!" Then not five seconds later he said, "Half the kids in my class all know heaps of Finnish, they 'blah-blah-blah' so fast!" I waited a moment to see if he understood how those two sentences were related, but no penny dropped. I had to explain that perhaps the teachers' idea about using exclusively Finnish might have had something to do with the fact that the other kids had learned a fair amount of Finnish in his class. Jay wasn't impressed. We shall see how much soaks into their brains over the next nine months.
23 August, 2009
Electricity
Power points in Finland never have switches!
This just feels so absolutely wrong. Even once I can cope with the ridiculously UGLY plugs in this place, it's just ingrained in us as children to switch off the wall before we unplug everything, and then these supposedly smart Finns just go and delete the switch altogether! A rip in the space-time continuum, my internets, a rip in the space-time continuum.
Related: Light switches are reversed. Down is off. Up is on. THIS TOPSY-TERVINESS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO CONTINUE! I quite fear for my sanity. This issue is causing me to continually second-guess myself. It doesn't matter how long I look at a switch, I can't tell if it's on or off. Flick. Oh, it was already on. Well, now it's too dark in here. Flick. And before you suggest it, NO. Looking up at the light fitting would be cheating. We have a few double switches in this house that have two of them side-by-side, and if one is in each direction, my head almost explodes. WHICH SWITCH IS ON? WHICH ONE IS OFF? HOW TO TELL? And here, I can't cheat, because even if I know the kitchen light is on and the bench is off, I DON'T KNOW WHICH SWITCH MATCHES WHICH LIGHT. Ai ai ai, my brain.
This just feels so absolutely wrong. Even once I can cope with the ridiculously UGLY plugs in this place, it's just ingrained in us as children to switch off the wall before we unplug everything, and then these supposedly smart Finns just go and delete the switch altogether! A rip in the space-time continuum, my internets, a rip in the space-time continuum.
Related: Light switches are reversed. Down is off. Up is on. THIS TOPSY-TERVINESS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO CONTINUE! I quite fear for my sanity. This issue is causing me to continually second-guess myself. It doesn't matter how long I look at a switch, I can't tell if it's on or off. Flick. Oh, it was already on. Well, now it's too dark in here. Flick. And before you suggest it, NO. Looking up at the light fitting would be cheating. We have a few double switches in this house that have two of them side-by-side, and if one is in each direction, my head almost explodes. WHICH SWITCH IS ON? WHICH ONE IS OFF? HOW TO TELL? And here, I can't cheat, because even if I know the kitchen light is on and the bench is off, I DON'T KNOW WHICH SWITCH MATCHES WHICH LIGHT. Ai ai ai, my brain.
21 August, 2009
I Heart Sauna
As the title might have hinted to you, we heated up the sauna tonight. Rachel and I went in together. She wasn't brave enough to be naked but once we had done ordinary conversation in there she says she will strip off next time... I think it is an Australian conditional thing to expect that if you're naked, people will stare. Sauna is a whole new ball game because it just isn't the way things go.
In the sauna it is acceptable to be naked among people you have never met, even if you wouldn't EVER speak to them fully clothed outside. Josh wouldn't even come into the sauna. We think it had more to do with the fact that City of Heroes had just been installed. Kahvi and I went afterwards by ourselves. I feel so refreshed and invigorated. Sauna win.
In the sauna it is acceptable to be naked among people you have never met, even if you wouldn't EVER speak to them fully clothed outside. Josh wouldn't even come into the sauna. We think it had more to do with the fact that City of Heroes had just been installed. Kahvi and I went afterwards by ourselves. I feel so refreshed and invigorated. Sauna win.
19 August, 2009
Roads
Finns drive on the wrong side of the road. My dear husband shakes his head and says, "No! We drive on the Right." Well, yes. And the right side is the wrong side. If you're confused by that, well, so am I. I can stand at a roadside and the thought process is as follows:
Me: Normally, I'd look to the right before I cross. So, it's back-to-front here, so I should look to the left instead.
Me: But what if I am getting used to Finnish roads? Then "normal" would be to the left! So I should totally look to the right instead!
Me: But what if I'm just confused and I look the wrong way and then I step out and get flattened by a bus!? And so I end up just looking both ways, even on dead-quiet streets. My paranoia can feel all the other pedestrians staring and privately thinking, "Guffaw. Tourist! Guffaw."
Me: Normally, I'd look to the right before I cross. So, it's back-to-front here, so I should look to the left instead.
Me: But what if I am getting used to Finnish roads? Then "normal" would be to the left! So I should totally look to the right instead!
Me: But what if I'm just confused and I look the wrong way and then I step out and get flattened by a bus!? And so I end up just looking both ways, even on dead-quiet streets. My paranoia can feel all the other pedestrians staring and privately thinking, "Guffaw. Tourist! Guffaw."
17 August, 2009
Weather 'n' stuffz
It's been perfectly reasonable, survivable and mild so far. In fact, so far it feels like... well, like Autumn does in Oz. I know, I know, just wait until the snow falls and then I'll be clicking my ruby slippers together non-stop.
Things to notice: All doors are wrong. That is to say: All doors open towards the outside, including front doors. I fear it will take a long, long time before I can stop myself from automatically leaning on every door that I try to enter (and in the process, look like a completely retarded fool).
Apparently there's a very good reason. And of course there has to be, since this is Finland, and everything is logical. It's for safety reasons. If there's a fire, you can run out a door by pushing it much faster than you could stop and pull it open. So I guess the Finns are saying: We do it the smart way. The rest of the world is too stupid to do things the smart way. And now I am torn between (1) applauding Australia for conforming to convention and making their doors the same as the rest of the world... and (2) thinking how dumb it is to just blindly follow convention even when it isn't nearly as smart.
Peer pressure is a powerful thing.
Things to notice: All doors are wrong. That is to say: All doors open towards the outside, including front doors. I fear it will take a long, long time before I can stop myself from automatically leaning on every door that I try to enter (and in the process, look like a completely retarded fool).
Apparently there's a very good reason. And of course there has to be, since this is Finland, and everything is logical. It's for safety reasons. If there's a fire, you can run out a door by pushing it much faster than you could stop and pull it open. So I guess the Finns are saying: We do it the smart way. The rest of the world is too stupid to do things the smart way. And now I am torn between (1) applauding Australia for conforming to convention and making their doors the same as the rest of the world... and (2) thinking how dumb it is to just blindly follow convention even when it isn't nearly as smart.
Peer pressure is a powerful thing.
15 August, 2009
Guess What
Hey, guess what I've been doing? Shopping.
I still haven't hit Fida, but I have explored the bargainy goodness that is the Malmi flea market. My first visit netted a coffee machine, three light jackets, a t-shirt and Winnie the Pooh wallpaper. I am still trying to work out what I should do with the wallpaper. It was just one of those things I had to buy merely because it was cheap. Mum has a lot to answer for with these genes she passed on to me.
Also, I got myself a basket for the bike, which is very cool. And a handful of schoolish things for the kids, since they're starting on Wednesday. We have an appointment with the teacher on Tuesday. So far, child #2 is convinced it will all be impossible and unhappy, and child #1 seems to think it will all just cruise along fine. I have a feeling it will be somewhere in the middle. We'll see.
I still haven't hit Fida, but I have explored the bargainy goodness that is the Malmi flea market. My first visit netted a coffee machine, three light jackets, a t-shirt and Winnie the Pooh wallpaper. I am still trying to work out what I should do with the wallpaper. It was just one of those things I had to buy merely because it was cheap. Mum has a lot to answer for with these genes she passed on to me.
Also, I got myself a basket for the bike, which is very cool. And a handful of schoolish things for the kids, since they're starting on Wednesday. We have an appointment with the teacher on Tuesday. So far, child #2 is convinced it will all be impossible and unhappy, and child #1 seems to think it will all just cruise along fine. I have a feeling it will be somewhere in the middle. We'll see.
13 August, 2009
BIKE!!!!!!!!!!!
Kahvi's sister has given me her bike. Have I mentioned how cool Kahvi's family is? Anna, you're cool. I fully intend to trek all over Finland* now.
There is also Ilkka's bike but just now it is locked, and unless we can find the key it will be quite a challenge to attempt to use it.
Also, tonight I made a bean salad that was edible. It was, in fact, pretty damned good. chick peas+kidney beans+brown beans/navy beans+handful frozen peas+whole diced capsicum+small diced onion+half a diced sweet apple+punnet halved cherry tomatoes+dressing: dash oil+3 squirts lemon juice+herbal salt+pepper. Win.
* I may ride to the shops. Actually I jest, I will definitely use it. I totally want to hit Fida and shop my life away, and Fida is well outside walking distance.
There is also Ilkka's bike but just now it is locked, and unless we can find the key it will be quite a challenge to attempt to use it.
Also, tonight I made a bean salad that was edible. It was, in fact, pretty damned good. chick peas+kidney beans+brown beans/navy beans+handful frozen peas+whole diced capsicum+small diced onion+half a diced sweet apple+punnet halved cherry tomatoes+dressing: dash oil+3 squirts lemon juice+herbal salt+pepper. Win.
* I may ride to the shops. Actually I jest, I will definitely use it. I totally want to hit Fida and shop my life away, and Fida is well outside walking distance.
11 August, 2009
Witnessing Injury
What is wrong with human beings? Wait, don't answer that; we'd be here all day.
There is something just fascinating about watching other people hurt themselves. Even more interesting is watching them do so in bizarre or spectacular ways.
Banzuke is on the tv every weekday here in Finland. I think that translates as "Japanese game show involving weird and wonderful variations of a school athletics carnival for five-year-olds, except that the contestants are grown adults". So far this evening we have watched the Unicycle Obstacle Course, complete with swinging weights to knock the rider off his cycle. Next up is Neko de Drive - another raised obstacle course where the lucky guys push their women around on top of a flat-topped cat-painted wheelbarrow. Fortunately, there is a donut roundabout, giant soccer ball, watermelon ramp, broken piano and plenty of speed bumps. (You know... in case you go too fast on your Neko wooden wheelbarrow. Hey, I'm serious here, the rider and driver both fall up to 2 metres down to the ground, depending on how spectacularly they f*ck it all up.)
Ahhh. Good Finnish tv programming. Heaven.
There is something just fascinating about watching other people hurt themselves. Even more interesting is watching them do so in bizarre or spectacular ways.
Banzuke is on the tv every weekday here in Finland. I think that translates as "Japanese game show involving weird and wonderful variations of a school athletics carnival for five-year-olds, except that the contestants are grown adults". So far this evening we have watched the Unicycle Obstacle Course, complete with swinging weights to knock the rider off his cycle. Next up is Neko de Drive - another raised obstacle course where the lucky guys push their women around on top of a flat-topped cat-painted wheelbarrow. Fortunately, there is a donut roundabout, giant soccer ball, watermelon ramp, broken piano and plenty of speed bumps. (You know... in case you go too fast on your Neko wooden wheelbarrow. Hey, I'm serious here, the rider and driver both fall up to 2 metres down to the ground, depending on how spectacularly they f*ck it all up.)
Ahhh. Good Finnish tv programming. Heaven.
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