tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7008697160709390852024-02-06T19:04:26.720-08:00Jacqueline PascarlImage copyright©2009 Debra Hurford-Brown. Camera PressJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-11121932748560754122015-02-19T00:10:00.001-08:002015-02-19T00:10:58.963-08:00ONE DIRECTION YOUR BODYGUARDS NEED EGO CHECKS AND SO DO YOU!A VERY, VERY BAD LOOK!!!! My young daughter (walking after school to an appointment) was accosted by Niall Horan's (One Direction boy band) bodyguard outside a cafe in Domain Road, South Yarra in Melbourne this afternoon. She is not a fangirl and not interested in the band. However, she was limping from a leg injury and has a heart condition. She merely paused and asked the cafe owner if she could have a drink of water for her heart problem. Niall Horan was in a public place sitting on the street with a girlfriend. The over zealous and aggressive bodyguard thrust himself in front of my daughter, shoved his hand in her face and said "DON'T, JUST DON'T", my daughter replied, "What do you mean?" and was quite bewildered. Bodyguard retorted aggressively, "YOU KNOW!" Well, sorry boys, she didn't want an autograph, didn't want to faun over Nial, and I, for one, as a parent, don't appreciate bullying of my child. Not a good look being so overinflated by a popstar ego that you allow your employees to intimidate young girls on a public street you have chosen to place yourself on. I might also add, the bodyguard made to shove her out of the cafe and block her path.
<a href="h http://static.tumblr.com/…/…/tumblr_static_one_direction.jpgttp://">
http://static.tumblr.com/…/…/tumblr_static_one_direction.jpg</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-28985304723976322242014-01-27T20:36:00.001-08:002014-01-27T20:36:31.325-08:00HOW TO COVER NEW SCHOOL BOOKS - Foolproof methodsHave you been attacked by contact adhesive plastic when you have tried to cover your child's school books?
Are you teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown because you can't get the books covered without ending up in a sticky mess?
I've made a short video (showing you the 'rookie's mistakes as well as how to do it the right way) to show you how to tackle this loathsome task. so here's the link to my YOuTube thingy..... Good Luck!
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http://youtu.be/ZuyrqO9TOrA
<a href="http://youtu.be/ZuyrqO9TOrA"></a>
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Hopefully, my methods will leave you time for a nice cup of tea - my preference is peppermint, but a coffee will also hit the spot!
Make sure you have a sense of humor for this job and the children out of the room - distractions can lead to sticky situations!
JacquelineJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-57577379875252099102012-03-20T17:50:00.004-07:002012-03-20T17:58:12.584-07:00Royal Wardrobe Malfunction<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPwymv3y4G0PCGBH1FihDRZHPruXJObjxFvow9wBFK8IfjGqYbAf42y2NrfvX7v7lGgonvbrucey2hTRWh4_sJrZuF_UB4JD0Dq3ypZfuTcoWWEw7Biv2Om-HvLkv267yyR1nr_RN0uc/s1600/638476-kate-and-carole-middleton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPwymv3y4G0PCGBH1FihDRZHPruXJObjxFvow9wBFK8IfjGqYbAf42y2NrfvX7v7lGgonvbrucey2hTRWh4_sJrZuF_UB4JD0Dq3ypZfuTcoWWEw7Biv2Om-HvLkv267yyR1nr_RN0uc/s320/638476-kate-and-carole-middleton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722147866701869602" /></a><br /><br />Poor Kate Middleton aka HRH Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, it’s been discovered that she is a fashion rebel, or at least an unco-operative one. How dare she behave like every woman in the world and have favourite dresses that she wears more than once. It’s also damned outrageous to see a daughter borrowing clothes from her mother, this means that she has a normal relationship with the woman who raised her. I suspect that when the whole story comes out, we will find that her mother may not have even realised the dress in question was missing from her walk-in robe and that Kate will get an earful about respect for others, dry cleaning bills and asking permission first.<br /><br />Kate obviously needs to understand that she is rightly being criticised by the press and fashion mavens because they demand a new outfit in every single photograph because otherwise they will have a huge file room of images of the Duchess in the same dress and the photo editor and papparazzi will be out of a job. Besides, Catherine should be behaving like a model who only borrows highly uncomfortable and anorexic fascist designed clothes worth thousands of dollars, and has nothing in her wardrobe except bikinis and jeans. The Duchess should know by now that over the top spending, feeding feelings of insecurity by becoming a clotheshorse on high fashion rotation, and giving up colours that she adores and outfits that have memories and make her happy, is forbidden, now she has to please the publishers of magazines and tabloids. For shame on her.<br /><br />We must start an online petition demanding that she never wear any piece of clothing twice, including her underwear. And don’t even get me started on shoes! While we’re at it, damn austerity and personal preference, she doesn’t have the right to please herself and actually have a fondness for her clothes as old friends. She must understand that we demand out of control insecurity and psychological depression spending from her, and Kate must really work at destroying her relationship with her mother, and whilst she’s at it, her sister too. Her wardrobe alternatives must be cut off and denied to her. Afterall, who does she think she is? Anyone would think she is a middle class woman of thirty with a style of her own and clothes to match. Spend, spend, spend should be her new mantra, otherwise, how are the tabloids to create a thrilling backlash against her and her husband for their profligate ways?<br />You can follow me on Twitter: @Pascarl<br />or read my new weekly column in the Sunday Life Magazine in the Sun Herald or Sunday Age.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-53068388902971627742012-03-12T16:03:00.012-07:002012-03-20T17:06:35.057-07:00Code of the Sisterhood<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAWr9lS3cXia9jmh1Ykv1muroMcq4zG3It_corGM54hKktm4_f2M5vBvdYAcu5I8xH6UtMsC-if6-NOmEa6n4hwmaG5zVrh3wKfvgIagdV7JAu0WMj682YrtNe1Hme0gDPNcZF2ypiD8/s1600/Spanx+oops+Eve+Longoria.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAWr9lS3cXia9jmh1Ykv1muroMcq4zG3It_corGM54hKktm4_f2M5vBvdYAcu5I8xH6UtMsC-if6-NOmEa6n4hwmaG5zVrh3wKfvgIagdV7JAu0WMj682YrtNe1Hme0gDPNcZF2ypiD8/s200/Spanx+oops+Eve+Longoria.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719166798301570098" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-YMjJoPG5pHdlnMW7ifX548y85_qW374ri4-2m3DeGH9Xa1NA-wRK3kyQrykOiB_wdMR9ubPH_w2STMdH6mJ-0okxC0Qgv2K0SjFpcRcCgVFzpC6p88y5ik87cw5jZ4S-GuM1whQ88g/s1600/skirt-malfunction.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-YMjJoPG5pHdlnMW7ifX548y85_qW374ri4-2m3DeGH9Xa1NA-wRK3kyQrykOiB_wdMR9ubPH_w2STMdH6mJ-0okxC0Qgv2K0SjFpcRcCgVFzpC6p88y5ik87cw5jZ4S-GuM1whQ88g/s200/skirt-malfunction.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719151542710573810" /></a><br />When was the last time you faced abject humiliation? Have you ever had a wardrobe malfunction, or smiled blithely at all and sundry, oblivious to the spinach stuck between your teeth or the fact that your skirt was tucked into your tights? Did you wonder how many people had been aware of this mortifying situation during the past three hours but hadn't said a thing? <br /><br />Which brings me to International Woman's Day, - whoo hoo, big deal most of us might say. A single space of twenty four hours meant to focus on who and what we are as women, our achievements, the inequality issues that still plague females globally, and the grinding poverty & lack of education that many of our gender still face. The same old media stories are rolled out infinitum - just rehashed snapshot vignettes that are put away until next year. All worthy stories, but hardly illustrative of how we function as a global sisterhood.<br /><br />Now at the risk of sounding 'naff', many of you will be aware that there is an unspoken code, sometimes (hopefully) taught by mothers to their daughters about decency to another girl. It's the Code of the Sisterhood, where we females should be duty bound to come to the aid of another female should the need arise. It's not about life threatening situations, but it is about saving someone else from public embarrassment. <br /><br />I've instilled it in my two girls, but never really had it come into play towards myself with anyone other than close friends, until International Women's Day last week. It had already been a hell of a day. After a dawn wakeup, and a morning so crammed with multi-tasking I must have resembled a demented octopus as I packed school lunches, combed out my wet hair, shaved my legs, answered four emails from another time zone, dressed, checked in online, cajoled sleeping children out of bed and into school uniforms, made breakfast, located shin guards for the youngest, applied makeup and medicated the dog, before scrambling into a taxi and tumbling onto a plane which had brought me north through turbulent air pockets and thunderstorms for what was meant to be a big career day for me. Capital C, capital D.<br /><br />Standing next to the baggage carousel at Sydney Airport awaiting my suitcase full of the accoutrements needed for a major photo-shoot (shoes, magic knickers, jewellery, makeup, clothing) to mark my elevation to weekly columnist for a national magazine – (Sunday Life Magazine – Sun Herald/ Sunday Age newspapers from March 25th – sorry for the promo, but I have to get my readership up somehow), and running screamingly late, I felt a tugging on my hem.<br /><br />I spun round to find a fellow passenger, an elegantly dressed Japanese woman accompanied by her adult daughter, and with a chauffeur hovering close by, attempting to remove what they had believed to be a price tag from the bottom of my attire. Sadly, and for what I took to be my would be rescuers horror, it was not an errant swing tag, but the actual label of my skirt, for in in my rush, I had managed to wear this garment upside down AND inside out. What I had viewed as a cunningly put together outfit, consisting of long pencil skirt, low cut camisole and waspish waisted jacket that would cut the mustard with the venerated Fashion Editor and Art Director I was due to meet in five minutes, was in fact, an unmitigated disaster. To make matters worse, I’d even sashayed a little through the terminal as I was pretty confident that the double pair of Spanx I was wearing had worked wonders.<br /><br />But therein lies the lesson and the saving grace – my new found Japanese sisters had activated the ‘Code’ and attempted a ‘dignity salvage’ undaunted by language barriers or lack of formal introductions – they had ploughed in to pluck me from the jaws of ridicule with generosity and delicacy. Much pantomiming resulted, accompanied by discrete giggles and bowing as my rushed morning was explained. I left the terminal with my inside out skirt un-righted, but my shoulders back, my head held high and a huge smile on my face because we women can be truly international in our empathy and kindness towards each other – no matter the day. <br /><br />Have you passed on the Code of the Sisterhood lately?<br /><br />Twitter: @PascarlJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-7865257385801246112012-03-10T16:12:00.003-08:002012-03-10T16:33:02.740-08:00Kony 2012... But Africa will still wait until....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-91zB96x5VCNp5KCXwiK9-ceNqhjCSm2lqx91pw_QwpOSRE9GUCtehYDwSrrqQUabCLKUunfBmIQNImxLaosBKemrmn78_SoRFps33ZrdqgYBr97W6TXBf_sRdmBxDMmMgDHbmR9eEM/s1600/BOOKPOWER+AFRICA+%25281%2529+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-91zB96x5VCNp5KCXwiK9-ceNqhjCSm2lqx91pw_QwpOSRE9GUCtehYDwSrrqQUabCLKUunfBmIQNImxLaosBKemrmn78_SoRFps33ZrdqgYBr97W6TXBf_sRdmBxDMmMgDHbmR9eEM/s400/BOOKPOWER+AFRICA+%25281%2529+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718426816449921826" /></a><br />Forced child slavery & abduction, murder, the recruiting of child soldiers & the rape of young girls has been endemic in unstable parts of Africa for many years. Having worked there, I know that Kony 2012 is but ONE example of how local warlords behave. Minerals, specifically the alloys used in mobile phones,and the diamonds that are shown off in engagement rings, make terrorising local populations a profitable business and make children a cheap labour/soldiering force. How else do you think weapons are paid for? Ask more questions, research your purchases - are they 'clean', manufacturers & jewellers have certificates of origin. Look more broadly at aid projects and how, why and what an organisation does to help the local populace. Knowledge is power. View this film for background, www.kony2012.com but continue to make enquiries of you own. JJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-20240230281514974562011-01-15T05:37:00.000-08:002011-01-15T23:19:31.300-08:00GUMBOOTS galore but we need more for, Queensland, Australia, floods<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY6dQ0rU13s3eib1oC-QrNQ9YiYSlATzjRfqcBUalupds8GJO0sNgNo3PYnWMdPi4_7bKBld15zTzCfkDss9ChkNbhe_ImUGwHpMTEUiQGR7mI1MjUpTz3MMvbxZMiuRSZBiKVOeyZWA/s1600/Operation+Angel+Logo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY6dQ0rU13s3eib1oC-QrNQ9YiYSlATzjRfqcBUalupds8GJO0sNgNo3PYnWMdPi4_7bKBld15zTzCfkDss9ChkNbhe_ImUGwHpMTEUiQGR7mI1MjUpTz3MMvbxZMiuRSZBiKVOeyZWA/s320/Operation+Angel+Logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562406478553590226" /></a><br /><br />Ok, so now I am the gumboot queen! May it be inscribed on my tombstone and proud of it... anyway, that is what someone called me down the line from Queensland when she spoke to me from the devastated area of Grantham, and even amidst all the mire and horror that she had witnessed, we both started laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. That's what I enjoy about aid work, and what I suppose I miss now that I usually live a 'civilian' life, instead of one that sees me dropping into war & disaster zones in strange and faraway countries; the black humour that cuts through the bullshit and is the safety outlet for some of the tension and the grief that shadows any aftermath of epic proportions, it's just as vital and as normal as the tears and the depression that will surely arrive too. <br /><br />Strange that the wee hours of the morning often afford the best time for me to type out a situation report for Operation Angel. Or maybe it's just the the fact that I am sitting here finally able to stop answering phone calls and simply take stock, and far too exhausted to crawl into bed and actually sleep.<br /><br />Some success at last with taming the unruly logistical beast that is humanitarian aid distribution. In total, we have 1800 new gumboots - (rainboots in USA & Wellingtons in UK)10 pallets poised and ready to ship out to Queensland. (1600 hundred airfreighted from New Zealand and a gift from the wonderful people at The Warehouse stores and airlifted by Toll Global & Qantas and 200 pairs from Bata) WE NEED MORE - CORPORATE DONATIONS IN THAT AREA. It's such a relief that a huge trucking company, TOll/Ipec Transport have offered to do any of our long-haul cartage for free. Bless them, because with such a vast continent, having a dependable and amiable partnership with a transport company is vital when shifting such huge quantities of urgently needed supplies. <br /><br />Taking a deep breath and looking back at the past twenty four hours is quite a mental rollercoaster - dozens of phone calls, lobbying, negotiating, emailing and interview after interview, meeting after meeting. My poor 9 & 7 year old children, who are on summer school vacation, have been very patient with the slapped together meals and the multi-tasking mother. At least I managed to get a load of washing on and so an underpants crisis has been averted for the kids.<br /><br />I had been finding it difficult to obtain extact delivery locales for our stock, but thank goodness for a good friend in the military who reminded me that to get any coherent answer from the relief operations in Queensland, I was going to have to remember to speak fluent 'army'. The upshot now is that Operation Angel will be despatching our first gumboot shipment of 10 pallets directly to Lockyer Valley and the central distribution point in Laidley. We've also got three pallets of feminine hygiene products from hip brands Moxie & de Jour who have supplied us with a mountain of stock. Water, water everywhere and not a dry pad anywhere! From experience, I know that tampons and sanitary napkins are always the forgotten essential item in these disaster situations but not on Operation Angel's list. When I phoned to let a contact at one of the councils in the bush know that we were sending them up to her area in the flood zone, she burst into tears telling me that the 'girls' up north were desperate for these items and having huge problems in the evacuation centres locating same.<br /><br />Right from the beginning I have felt like a dog with a bone, unable to let go of the gut instinct that gumboots and other items for niche scenarios would be needed. Robyn Good, my great buddy and now Operation Angel co-ordinator, has been indefatigable in her search for more items from my list. Sarah Allen has kept the social media networks buzzing with our official updates and brilliant harnessing of our contacts. <br /><br />Received a call late this evening from a commander with Emergency Management Queensland, confirming that we now have co-operative and cohesive communications with the shires and good delivery points for our trucks. I was pretty horrified when he went all official on me and said that he had also been tasked by his director to pass on his personal thanks and that of EMQ for Operation Angel's foresight to go about obtaining all the gumboots and other items well before anyone else had even considered the safety and health implications of contaminants and the soggy aftermath following the floods. Very grateful for the thanks, but also embarrassed because it felt overly profuse in contrast to what Queenslanders have survived and continue to battle.<br /><br />So, now, for those of you interested in what else we are collecting or what we have to ship here's a little list and it goes like this:<br /><br />* 40 Potable water storage tanks - 1 cubic metre in size - love a nice clean tank and could do with more<br />* gumboots, new and now pre-loved - more, more, more please (kids & adults must be taped together in pairs)<br />* 1000 new hairbrushes - Rapunzel let down your hair - well she would if it wasn't so knotted<br />* Metal tools - metal rakes, shovels & crowbars - feel free to raid that garden shed<br />* 3 pallet loads of tampons & pads - nuff said<br />* Industrial rubber gloves (black or red) - throw that gauntlet to us<br />* Work gloves - what can I say, I like gloves<br />* New underwear - URGENTLY NEEDED - don't get your knickers in a knot,head on down to Target or Kmart, use that Christmas gift card you got from Auntie Mary and pick up a 5 pack for us<br />* Air Freshener (no candles) - keep that post flood stench at bay, lavender or rose is what I say<br />* Insect repellent - roll ons - do away with the Great Aussie salute and keep Dengue Fever at bay<br />* Waders - calling all fishermen - give them to us, we honestly believe you about the one that got away<br />* Work boots - preloved or new - taped together in pairs they're no good for walking, but boy do they do a mean job up the floods<br />* Mosquito nets - foiled again the Dengue Fever mozzie will screech as it tries unsuccessfully to feast on a sleeping child. WE need these desperately and have so far only been offered a wholesale price - if we can't procure more (free) I am really afraid of an epidemic of epic proportions.<br /><br />Time to sleep now. You can see an interview I did tonight with Jonathan Mann on CNN Internationl on the i-desk programme, airing at 10am eastern time & 1pm in the USA and across the world. <br /><br />http://edition.cnn.com/video/data/2.0/video/world/2011/01/15/intv.aid.for.australia.cnn.html<br /><br />Sleep well and dream of gumboots - I will.<br />Please follow us on Facebook: Operation Angel<br />Forgot, drop off point for items listed above is: 10am to 4pm Operation Angel Warehouse, Unit 3/ 126 Fairbanks Road, South Clayton Victoria. If you are a corporate donor with substantial stock, we can arrange pick up by truck. Email us on: operationangelaustralia@gmail.com<br />Twitter: @Operation_AngelJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-67429286328651823112011-01-12T04:48:00.000-08:002011-01-12T14:09:18.035-08:00QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA FLOODS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijnySeBqfO_XTe1ss3HJ7BAxuu8bYG6zGENAr4JreyK8j2p9G4BLaHgZOByMGkcog4ed_j6Wg3UAffMnEAiVJm42qKZoGU575W-WrAxxUSCFJAZGgfZ2l2phXYQYbNUBKIIcij57eusw/s1600/Operation+Angel+Logo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijnySeBqfO_XTe1ss3HJ7BAxuu8bYG6zGENAr4JreyK8j2p9G4BLaHgZOByMGkcog4ed_j6Wg3UAffMnEAiVJm42qKZoGU575W-WrAxxUSCFJAZGgfZ2l2phXYQYbNUBKIIcij57eusw/s320/Operation+Angel+Logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561282091220750690" /></a><br />NEWS RELEASE – OPERATION ANGEL FLOOD RELIEF – 12th January, 2011<br /><br />In response to the devastation of the floods in Queensland, Operation Angel has been reactivated for the first time since the Victorian Bushfires.<br />http://www.radionz.co.nz/news/national/66157/nz-mp-seeking-gumboots-for-queensland<br /><br />http://progress-leader.whereilive.com.au/news/story/hawthorn-angels-spring-into-action-with-clothing-donations/<br />http://www.entoure.com.au/operation-angel/<br />http://marinago.blogspot.com/2009/02/operation-angel.html<br /><br />“If these waves of water inundated my friends, my family, I would hope that strangers would think outside the square and their own backyards to pitch in, just as we are doing with Operation Angel – geography and distance means nothing to Australians, we are all neighbours not hampered by miles. Local companies, and now those in New Zealand, are getting behind our efforts and pulling together”, says Operation Angel’s director, Jacqueline Pascarl.<br /><br />• Operation Angel will concentrate on providing material assistance to the Toowoomba area & surrounds.<br />• Operation Angel has a very senior former Australian Defence Force officer as co-ordinator & distribution chief in Toowoomba. Ironically, he & his wife relocated to the area only four weeks ago, but are returning locals.<br />• Gatton is now on the list for OA’s activities and on the advice or our Queensland co-ordinator – contact will be made with local authorities to facilitate distribution once the rescue phase has been completed.<br /><br />• Operation Angel will use our co-ordinator's property, 18kms south of Toowoomba as a distribution centre – we are also working on alternative distribution point in Gatton, East of Toowoomba which has been hit very hard by water.<br />• Operation Angel’s Queensland base is located in Wyreema, it is positioned atop a hill with good road access (once water has receded), all weather driveway, with watertight warehouse with roller door access<br />• Operation Angel has secured warehousing in Melbourne at Showtech, 15 Capital Court, Braeside Victoria 3195, via Operation Angel’s co-ordinator, Robyn Good. <br />• Operation Angel will be taking delivery of commercial quantities of 1,600 gumboots from New Zealand company THE WAREHOUSE via New Zealand MP, Clare Curran from Dunedin in the South Island, who is a personal friend. Ms Curran is also now in dialogue with Air New Zealand to cover airfreight to Australia, although we may need to turn to another airline for assistance as part of our back up. These gumboots will be essential to the survivors of the Queensland floods during the days ahead and the massive clean up, the boots will offer some protection against contaminants and raw sewage as well as debris and snakes.<br /><br />In approaching you, I ask you to remember that in all the muck and devastation that has hit our fellow Aussies up north, leaving them with only the clothes they stand in, and that the following items have been identified in consultation with Australian Defence Force personnel on the ground in Queensland.<br /><br />Operation Angel is NOT looking for personal donations or money from individuals, but rather commercial donations of practical items as well as services.<br /><br />1. personal insect repellent will afford them both protection and some small comfort as Queenslanders & their children begin the hard slog ahead during the clean up, it will make the horrendous time they are facing just a little more bearable.<br />2. Mosquito nets for sleeping<br />3. Mosquito coils<br />4. Underwear<br />5. Hygiene/toiletry kits<br />6. Trucking services<br />7. Children’s & Adult gumboots (Wellington boots in the UK and rainboots in USA)<br />8. New towels<br /><br />Unfortunately, some very large companies in Australia have asked Operation Angel for payment for goods or rejected our requests – we hope that by sending out this news, other corporations will come forward with offers of practical assistance in the crucial days ahead.<br /><br />Jacqueline Pascarl, Director of Operation Angel<br />+61 (0) 3 9580 4176JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-4983432285861590932010-10-07T18:34:00.000-07:002010-10-07T18:35:59.844-07:00SWEDISH DOMINATION - THE OTHER SUPER POWERIKEA dearest, excitement as your latest tome plopped into my letterbox with the all the promise of how shiny, organised and streamlined my life would be if I married my dollars to your flat-pack.<br />Ah dearest one, I enter your hallowed halls with expectations and delight, with wonderment in your innovations and pleasure in your primary colours.<br />Seven hours later, I emerged with the truth from the 'Seventh Circle of Hell' you call a store, the veil of infatuation torn from my eyes; having been funnelled like a drugged lemming through your maze-like halls amidst aisles of numbered items and towers of indecipherably coded boxes. <br />I had entered your portals with so much trust and hope, with a hankering for a small hook that could change my life for the better once installed in my entry foyer, but cunning torturer that you are, you brainwashed me into believing that if I filled my conveniently provided plastic shopping bag - the size of a small elephant - with paper napkins, two cushions, some plastic cups and a fluoro item (its origins of which, and purpose I am yet to determine), you would release me from your clutches and allow me to return to the bosom of my family - battle scarred and lighter of wallet - but free.<br />But it was all only a cruel promise – first you had one remaining ignominy for me to endure – the Checkout Counters of Hades. Other bleary eyed devotees queued like branded sheep, some pushing trolleys, others leading drooling male spouses by the hand – parched, natural light deprived, and utterly disoriented as to geographical direction, oh, but it was the tiny children I pitied the most – exhausted and fractious, I watched as harried mothers dug in the bottoms of handbags searching for a lint covered ancient mint to assuage the infants screams of pain – their begging for home and un-recycled air the most poignant of your victims. We shuffled towards the magic machines that would agree to take our money, we prayed for the holy zappers to accept the barcode release numbers for each and every item that we proffered on the counter of Swedish domination and design excellence, and we held our collective breath awaiting the denuding of our bank accounts and credit cards like impatient inmates of a gulag tantalised with freedom.<br />And as we stumbled towards our vehicles with our totems of modernity safely stowed in our newly purchased, but utterly un-recyclable plastic enviro bags, our eyes glimpsed your newest acolytes as they entered your siren portals, light of step and full of hope for the better life you promise and the thrill of globalisation. How we pity them. “Schmucks” we observe under our breath, “never again”, we mutter as we climb into our cars to claim the sanctuary of home. At least not until we need the next cunning storage solution proffered in your 2011 catalogue.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-83868721180228877342010-09-15T05:44:00.000-07:002010-10-03T21:09:25.463-07:00THE PLOT IS LOSTThe camel is broken, I’ve lost the plot and, quite frankly, it’s been absolutely liberating. Cue sharp intake of breath…. I went to my children’s school this morning clad only in my purple dressing gown, accessorised with sunglasses, polka dot gumboots, and carrying my undergarments in my pocket. Granted, I didn’t alight from the car, so for all those peering through the windows of my highly utilitarian people mover, I could have been wearing a very fluffy hoody, but it was the stand I was taking for all us working, stay at home, full time carers, students, mothers, nurses of elderly parents and juggling women that mattered most to me. I ‘took one’ for my diverse sisterhood, and it’s the best thing I’ve done for myself for quite a while. <br /><br />I became the antithesis of everything a nice eastern suburbs matron usually strives to portray to the neighbours. Of course, the children were aghast, but they were also mildly thrilled by my rebellious and obviously quite insane attire. For the kids benefit, I threw in a few cackles on the drive to school as we wove through Hawthorn’s peak hour traffic. (As I was car-pooling, I must remember to ring my 9 year old daughter’s friend’s parents and explain.) But you know, today, something simply had to give. I had a choice, either hurl myself into the usual school-run hysteria of screeching exhortations at the children and issuing thundering threats, whilst attempting to cram my harassed, sleep deprived person into clothes, makeup, and style my hair as I simultaneously answered a work related phone call on my mobile (who the hell rings a woman with children at 7.57am?), received a text from a media outlet requesting an interview, injected a blood thinner into my stomach and dealt with my dementia stricken mother in law on the landline, as I filled lunchboxes and medicated the dog for epilepsy. Or, I could decide that by capitulating to the sadistic gods of time and removing one element from my daily schedule, I could gain 6 minutes and the key to a laughing gaggle of kids, instead of a chastened bunch of under 10’s strapped into a speeding vehicle as they listened to an overstressed, hyperventilating, cursing female attempting to be too perfect.<br /><br />That’s the thing isn’t it, as we try to be everything to everybody, and meet all the commitments of our daily lives, we somehow lose our grip on the importance of being more than a schedule follower and timetable adherer. And in that push to be perfect, it’s so easy to lose the joy of the ridiculous and the simple pleasure of acknowledging we are not superhuman; because we can fail and fall and pick ourselves up and start all over again with a laugh. Never see many truly joyous, guffawing superheros out there do you?<br /><br />So as a woman caring for ailing in laws, four kids, a husband, epileptic dog, health issues, work deadlines, an 80% renovated house, three books I still haven’t finished reading and various regions of the body that need to be either knitted or clipped prior to summer, I declare 31st September, National Dressing Gown Day. Are you game to join me? If so, I’ll see you for a coffee at 9.30am Adelaide time at Georges in Camberwell. Bayside venue to be announced. Gumboots optional, lipstick not required.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-48621869413909318022010-06-13T19:44:00.000-07:002010-06-13T20:06:18.269-07:00LAZY DAYS. Working to live, or living to work?Do we live to work, of work to live? For me, it is often a very blurred line.<br /><br />If I am not writing, I feel as if I am barely living; conversely, if I am writing, I'm aware that there is a whole lot of living going on around me that my children are experiencing and I am merely working.<br /><br />This weekend was a 'bank holiday' in Australia, celebrating the Queen of England's birthday (don't even get me started on being a colonial outpost), so therefore, a long weekend of the best kind. Crisp blue sky-ed mornings with a distinct icy chill in the air viewed through double glazing and the warmth of central heating toasting our toes.<br /><br />We've lazed as a family, watching a Harry Potter marathon on the screen in the evenings, I've baked pies and walked and gardened a little in the winter's sun, and when the rest of the family was engaged elsewhere, I've snuck off to pen a couple of draft chapters and been barely missed.<br /><br />Best of all, I've pushed any pressure aside and simply refused to schedule, plan or organise anything. Bliss! For one who considers my Outlook Express and Iphone synching de rigeur, just going with the flow is truly living amidst my family, not timetabling them in alongside all the other of life's priorities.<br /><br />So for those of you who have even the vaguest of interest in what I write, perhaps try this method sometime.<br /><br />Put the phone on answer, look around the room at those you love, pat the dog for an hour, call your other kids who are far away, give yourself a manicure, look up at the sky for as long as you like, forget about the diets and the must do's and simply breathe in the moment. <br /><br />As person wiser than me once said: "Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away".<br /><br />To me, it goes a little further, if we don't allow ourselves unscheduled moments, then how can we ever understand our own unspoken needs and those of whom we love?JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-39181819995168712512010-06-08T04:18:00.000-07:002010-06-08T04:33:01.655-07:00PRETTY RUSTY BUT OILING UPNew vistas beckon yet again. I'm tightening up a new string to my bow and striking out as a literary agent. I already have a client, Chris Allen! (Have a look at his blog) Lord knows I am grateful for his faith in me, and it was his suggestion afterall. <br /><br />So here we come... Lysander & Verity Media - hold onto your hats, we might, just might, stir up a tiny puff of wind.<br /><br />It all seems terribly grown up if you ask me, but there you go, I might even celebrate turning 40 this year - who knows?<br /><br />Writing for me is like breathing, and reading is as necessary as water - so, in those extra hours I have managed to achieve by going metric (more on this concept later), I have decided to see where this additional avenue takes me.<br /><br />I'm rusty, having not blogged for weeks and weeks, but my other, more tangible life has been full of, well life, and family and work on the new book, and new board postitions and just learning to be slower than my usual frenetic speed. (Although, even I acknowledge the last oxymoron.)<br /><br />So take this small eptistle as a warm up, a smlog. I'm applying copious amounts of oil to my blogging cortex and I predict I will be around more often.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-18249022302218832972010-03-09T22:29:00.001-08:002010-03-09T22:29:55.960-08:00A rebuttalDear Squizy, as you left no return address, I find it very difficult to reply directly to you. I have no problem with food allergies being taken seriously nor for parents to ensure that their own little ones are cared for appropriately. what I do have a problem with is that you feel it is ok for you to demonise me for stating a situation at primary schools which is ludicrous. Yes, I mentioned nuts because the children I was referring to are allergic to peanuts, NOT almonds, therefore an ignorant reaction on the part of the teachers is the issue. <br /><br />Furthermore, most of the piece in the Punch was referring to an individual parent's right to feed their own child any food which they deem appropriate as long as those foods are not on the 'banned' list at school - be they deemed healthy or not. <br /><br />What I do get from reading between your lines, is that you are not getting a great or forthcoming response from your own child's school. Could I therefore recommend you retain a solicitor and put your concerns in a letter to both the Principal and also the School Council or Governing body. This may be the only way for the issue to be taken seriously at the school your child attends. But don't confuse my satirical synopsis and observations as a solid 'news' article meant to be taken as scientific fact. So no loaded gun analogies thank you - I am anti-weapons of all kinds having triaged gunshot wounds in war zones - a abdominal hole in a child's body caused by discharged weapon at close range is not a great illustrative metaphor to use.<br />PS: Congratulations on your mathematical ability!JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-53666842220889217832010-03-09T15:21:00.000-08:002010-03-09T16:33:47.942-08:00FOOD NAZIS - CAN THEY BE DANGEROUS TO A WRITER'S HEALTH?Something extraordinary is happening in our suburbs, apparently debate on school lunchbox contents is no longer allowed - no jokes, no satire, no irony to open up discussion or investigation. Peanuts are killers and people seem unable to be unable to read the full context of an article - once the words Peanut Butter pop up, all other words on the page fade into black. <br /><br />Bewilderingly, I have so far been accused of being a bad mother, a lazy mother, a waste of space, a murdering bitch, a selfish parent, a revolting person and those are just the nicer comments that have made their way to me via my column in The Punch online, via my email and other means of modern communication. <br /><br />My husband is seriously concerned that our fence will soon be grafitied or we'll be spat upon in the street. I feel like I've been lobbed in with the whores who collaborated with the enemy in the World War II and am waiting to be pounced upon so the the head shaving can begin!<br /><br />Give me a break for goodness sake, I hand roll sushi at least once a week, make my own pesto for their lunches and grill chicken wings as well to go into the lunchbox, but on certain days, I just slap some Vegemite on two pieces of wholegrain bread and throw an apple in the box and hope for the best. It's about the intrusion into my choices as a parent to which I object, not the fact that I have been asked not to send peanut butter sandwiches to school because, in fact, I haven't had that request since kindergarten.<br /><br />But I have had twenty five years of making school lunchboxes and I suspect this is a bloody longer time than those who have penned such horrendous comments to me ( the obscene and violent I have removed from my blog - but have left the mildly rude as a gesture of democratic free speech)<br /><br />I have offended some, and frankly, in this case, I don't give a damn! No, you heard it, I have checked with a number of allergy specialists in the medical field and I am not overstating it to point out that there is a lots of mass hysteria over allergies - a lot of misguided fear and misinformation that some more sensitive parents cling to and then label their children fragile and hyperallergic on the basis of urban myth.<br /><br />I have had very up close and personal experience with allergies in my immediate family - I have a very thorough grasp of the subject - my nephew was deaf till the age of three courtesy of an allergy list that included milk, eggs and peanuts. I have friends for whom their children's excema was so bad that my husband developed arm splints for the kids to alleviate night-time scratching; I, myself, have to very cautious around products containing fruit as mango can stop me breathing and I so I do get it. I invented a birthday cake using apples instead of eggs to feed to kids attending my children's parties - so I accommodate allergies on a daily basis.<br /><br />So please, kindly stop telling me that I have no idea about allergies, because I do!<br /><br />But come on, let's be honest, making school lunches is tedious and repetitious and soul destroying on those days when imagination and creativity are snoozing. I am a kick arse cook, it's my hobby and a great love, but putting together a plastic lunch box is just blah - there is no leeway and on days that are rushed, I feel guilty about the boring nature of what I put in. It can also be quite demoralising when the lunches into which we put so much careful thought and preparation come home barely touched.<br /><br />In the past two days, I have also been accused of being severely lacking in the sphere of empathy, that I am a useless career woman and I deserved to have my eldest children kidnapped for fourteen years. Oh, and also of being a 'faux' humanitarian. Nice coming from those whom champion their own rights but think it's fine to attack another person indiscriminately - apparently, I am not worthy to enjoy the same rights as them because I like almonds - I didn't even say the dreaded 'P' word!<br /><br />It's as if the one-upmanship of allergies gives the attackers rights outside the boundaries of common courtesy and manners!<br /><br />Well, I do know what it is to send a kid to school everyday worrying about their medical condition. My 8 year old daughter has SVT (a heart condition) - <br /><br />http://www.patient.co.uk/health/Supraventricular-Tachycardia-(SVT).htm<br />http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supraventricular_tachycardia<br /><br />along with a couple of other issues like periously low blood pressure. Her diet must include huge amounts of water and quite a high salt intake to stabilise this condition on any given day, so I need to fuss about what she is eating and also, how much she is drinking - usually at least two litres of water daily does the trick. She also seems to lack the normal thirst triggers and so often needs prompting to remember to drink, although this is getting better with age. The number of times an ambulance has needed to be called, or she passes out are too numerous to be counted. I have had to train and remind the staff at her school multiple times about her need to drink etc. That is my responsiblity as a parent, and I know, that we run a risk everyday that a collapse off play equipment might kill her, but she needs to live a normal life and I need to let go of my own fears to give her that permission to experience the joy of childhood without my neurosis overshadowing her pleasure in her peers and her activities.<br /><br />We make choices everyday as parents, we love our children and we do all to protect them and so we should, but we also need to learn to let go, to allow the real world to be a part of their lives - that is why we teach them life lessons and must guide them into the realms of personal responsibility, kindness, manners and social ettiquettes - it's how the world functions and survives the threat of chaos and dysfunction. <br /><br />I am saddened by the upsurge of allergies and perplexed that this seems to be a nominally recent occurance as my older children who are now in their late 20's did not have have peers with such conditions around them to any such degree - so my question is, to what are we exposing this newer generation of offspring that would cause these allergies, what is the mutation that is triggering such a high incidence of anaphalaxysis? <br /><br />The allergy is the enemy - I am not.<br /><br />www.twitter.com/pascarlJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-62193206296673427692010-03-08T23:24:00.000-08:002010-03-08T23:32:26.181-08:00Food NazisBe afraid, be very afraid. The food Nazis are on the hunt through suburban school lunch boxes. Food is no longer a private matter in our educational institutions; parents are quaking in their shoes, terrified that they will be judged on the efficacy of their social responsibility and parenting skills by the contents of the humble pail. <br /><br /><br />Forget guns and knives, this is the deadliest schoolyard weapon.<br />The fallout of which means becoming social pariahs based on white bread, or the inclusion of a Tim Tam.<br /><br />Teachers peer beneath the lids of the not so humble receptacles (very seldom now a simple plastic box – they’re now themed, decorated, iced, chilled, heated, layered, compartmentalised and sheathed) and “tut tut”, or shake their heads at a child’s humble peanut butter sandwich or limp carrot. <br /><br />Quite often, a ‘parent helper’ is on duty in the classroom and will also investigate what a harried, working mum has flung together and encased in cling wrap, subsequently broadcasting to all and sundry (other competitive mothers) that ‘Little Susie’ came to school with the dregs of the pantry, or an anaphylaxis just waiting to happen.<br /><br />Do you remember the simple days as a kid, when everyone sat around at lunchtime in the yard, poking despondently at the sad vegemite sandwich and sipping on tepid cordial? Those were the days, when food was simple and only vaguely nutritious, before the prevalence of food allergies and the litigious nature of society. <br /><br />You were responsible for teaching your own children not to steal other’s lunches and to refrain from picking their noses without a hanky. Now it’s all about fear, the school live in fear of being sued by parents angry that ‘Little Angus’ in the class next door consumed a peanut butter sandwich fifty metres from their ‘Little Johnnie”, the poor mums live in fear of being judged a failure if they don’t whip up a three course meal and box it up everyday. <br /><br />The poor kids live in fear that they will be made consume their midday repast whilst sitting on the special chair at the front of the class reserved for children who have dared to come to school with natural roasted almonds as a snack, quarantined in case a sliver of a ‘tree nut’ sprays on ‘Little Angus” who has a peanut allergy. If “Little Angus” at the age of 10, doesn’t know enough not to stuff a stray almond in his mouth which he found on the floor, then “Little Angus’s” parents have got a problem on their hands!<br /><br />What is happening, where did personal responsibility go and privacy for that matter, is food the new frontier of the Nanny State? I don’t advocate my children sharing food, and they are well aware of the dangers of food allergies – they live with a mother who could expire on a mouthful of mango, but this is ludicrous. The guilt, the oversight, the intrusion. <br /><br />Today I will send my offspring to school with wholegrain wraps, filled with home baked Mediterranean chicken, mayonnaise, chives, home grown cherry tomatoes with a chaser of yoghurt dip and home made berry coulis. Tomorrow, I’m bloody well sending grated chocolate sandwiches on white bread and a chocolate Hershey bar. Take that Food Nazis – I will choose what I feed my kids and I’ll thank you to keep your noses out of my Tupperware – my kids’ impending malnutrition and/or constipation is our own business.<br /><br />PS: I am not that pro-peanut butter, I keep a separate, nut free shelf of snacks for visiting kids with allergies and am very concerned with the issues of allergies in general, but gee, I have packed lunchboxes for four of my own kids, also two stepchildren, two foster children, sundry nieces and nephews who have lived with us and frankly, I am exhausted - I've been making cut lunches for twenty five years already and my youngest child is still only 6! So cut me some slack and enough with the personal attacks on my mothering capabilities and my children please!<br />www.twitter.com/pascarlJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-90157919991883744932010-03-01T01:35:00.000-08:002010-03-01T02:02:35.188-08:00Vaguely vague and other lost grey cellsHere I sit liberated from the daily real time existence of my desk. Thanks to a good friend who came to my rescue, I am now able to access my own blog - yes, that's right - I couldn't remember my own password or gmail user name to retrieve same. So I apologise for my vagueness, my loss of memory and my um errr oh, never mind it will come to me shortly. So in any case, it's either my post surgery reaction, the long summer holiday, or my body adjusting to all the changes of having so much medication that I simply forgot. So is this the way of the future when all of us are slaves to our PIN numbers, passwords, and usernames? with one misplaced digit we risk effectively being locked out of our own lives. Makes one truly lament the simplicity of the old days and a primitive key, bank book or handwritten letter. Ah technology, when my 6year old pointed out a new fingerprint recognition front door lock in the hardware store, I recoiled in horror as I imagined the consequences of an injured finger, one large bandage and a winter's night spent in a car be because a hightech door latch didn't recognize my damaged thumb! So if you visit me, avoid the digital doorbell and just yell out over the fence - I'll use my super-duper low tech ears and come let you in.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-67101349977044169342009-10-15T19:58:00.000-07:002009-10-16T02:37:44.602-07:00My OVARIAN CANCER ISSUESBeen off the air for a while …….. just a few small things …………….. almost ‘carked it ’ (died) a couple of times - had a Pulmonary Embolism, ambulances, flashing lights, the impressive works (of course). Then ‘they’ discovered five tumours on my ovaries and I had to have three surgeries. Wasn’t simply tired after the bushfire relief efforts, and for those of you who thought my chocolate addiction was the cause of my weight gain… HA, HA!!! The utter exhaustion and the expanding body was caused by the tumours, so chocolate can again be consumed by me with gay abandon as nine kilograms has so far fallen away post surgery and hormonal balance restored.<br /><br />Anyway, when doctors told me initially that I probably had less than a few months if I was lucky, even with Chemotherapy, I decided to allow television cameras to document the surgery and the diagnosis so that other women would heed the niggling warning signs and seek medical advice EARLY.<br /><br />Ovarian cancer kills one woman every ten hours!<br /><br />There is no screening test, and late diagnosis leads to an always fatal outcome. With chemo, most women only extend their lives by another five years maximum.<br /><br />So, if you would like to see the inside of my guts in living colour, high definition broadcast, and learn more about this insidious disease, tune in this Sunday, 18th October on Channel Seven at 6.30pm. The interview and report will go to air on the new show called Sunday Night.<br /><br /><a title="blocked::http://au.tv.yahoo.com/sunday-night/" href="http://au.tv.yahoo.com/sunday-night/">http://au.tv.yahoo.com/sunday-night/</a><br /><br /><br />I plan to work and assist the Women’s Cancer Foundation – Ovarian Cancer Institute, to raise awareness about the disease and also to fund raise to find an early detection test.<br /><br /><a title="blocked::http://www.womenscancerfoundation.org/" href="http://www.womenscancerfoundation.org/">http://www.womenscancerfoundation.org/</a><br /><br />So, those are the reasons my columns, tweets, Facebook, blogs and my personal correspondence has been non-existent. I’ve been on bed rest for ages, but have finally begun to get up and about although I am going at a snails pace compared to my usual speed.<br /><br />It’s been a horrendous ride for our family and close friends, but I am extremely fortunate to now look up at the sky and plan a future. As well, all four of my kids were with me whilst I was ill, along with my husband, Bill, who has been holding down the fort and has even learned how to make school lunches and to braid Verity’s hair – all whilst maintaining his work commitments! As a family we are very blessed to come out the other side of this storm- and the one’s I love have been phenomenal. I can say that amazingly, I am cancer free, I am a statistical anomaly! So I am extremely grateful for that which I have.<br /><br />Jacqueline.<br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pascarl">www.twitter.com/pascarl</a><br />PS: Symptoms of Ovarian Tumours can be hard to pinpoint, but they include, a feeling of severe exhaustion, unexplained weight gain or loss, change in bowel habits, some back ache, abdominal bloating.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-17807625530160838652009-07-15T14:50:00.000-07:002009-07-21T03:10:28.822-07:00SWINES & COCKSHOW A HAPPY ROOSTER CAN ROUT THE NASTY SWINE<br /><br />Much has been said lately about the language and behaviour of erstwhile celebrity chef, Gordon Ramsay <a href="http://www.gordonramsay.com/">http://www.gordonramsay.com/</a> and his cocksure posturing, but when all is said and done, Ramsay really has little to crow about in the grand scheme of things; he may be a dab hand in the kitchen, but does one of his creations have even the smallest chance of saving humankind from a potentially deadly virus?<br /><br />I turn therefore to 15,000 real cocks in Victoria, Australia, who do have that weight of the world upon their… err.. wings.<br /><br />An Australian egg producer, Kinross Farm, in Kinglake, 40 kilometres from metropolitan Melbourne, <a href="http://www.kinrossfarm.com.au/">http://www.kinrossfarm.com.au/</a> is the primary supplier of the fertilised eggs needed in the laboratories of CSL Ltd (http://www.csl.com.au) to culture the antigen to H1N1, Swine Influenza. Under the steady guidance of owner and Managing Director, Philip Szepe, poultry and eggs are laid, fed and nurtured under specific conditions and audited by the TGA (Therapeutic Goods Administration -Australia) on a regular basis.<br /><br />Mr Szepe and his staff care for over 163,000 of these pampered chickens and 15,000 roosters, to produce, in a normal year, 28 million eggs for CSL. That is an incredible 800,000 eggs per week. With the advent of the Swine Flu, and the fact that CSL needs to produce enormous amounts of vaccine, this will mean that rather than resting, or retiring these prime layers and their feathered Lotharios for a chunk of this breeding season, Kinross Farm will need to encourage their poultry to… errr…. go forth and multiply as never before, to produce at least 40,000 million eggs this year if demand is to be met globally for the H1N1 vaccine.<br /><br />Cue Barry White music and mood lighting please. In order to encourage the roosters and chickens to do what comes naturally, the birds range free in enormous climate controlled barns and are fed a specially heated and decontaminated organic food which gives them plenty of ‘get up and go, go, go’ - a sort of dietary Viagra for our feathered friends. Each rooster develops his own favourites – in effect, a sort of harem of a dozen or so mates, who in turn, lay six eggs a week. The eggs are then fumigated, incubated, tested for fertility/embryonic development and then trucked down the mountain daily to CSL in Parkville, Victoria, just outside Melbourne's Central Business district, in specially built, computer and temperature controlled semi-trailers.<br /><br />However, in the words of Kinross Farm General Manager, David Eastwood, a genial man who hails from Britain’s North country, “the vaccine labs might be up the creek without a paddle, we might all be up the creek without a paddle if we couldn’t produce the eggs needed for the flu vaccines, if the fire had of got us”. The farm narrowly averted disaster in the Black Saturday bushfire blazes (7th February, 2009) <a href="http://media.heraldsun.com.au/multimedia/2009/02/bushfires/">http://media.heraldsun.com.au/multimedia/2009/02/bushfires/</a><br /><br />with flames licking the rear doors of the barns and fires in the evaporative cooling towers. As the forest blazed on the four sides of the valley in which the facility nestles just minutes from the centre of Kinglake township, Philip Szepe, along with five of his staff, fought back the flames and ember attacks for over 10 hours in order to save the barns and business housing the scores of poultry -each worth approximately AUD$25 at the height of their reproductive strengths. (Kinross runs a further 80,000 chickens at Euroa and 30,000 at Pheasant Creek – but the Kinglake barns are the primary producers of the eggs needed by CSL). Philip says that he and the men were fighting for their lives as much as they were fighting for the livelihood of the mountain, as he employs sixty staff at the Kinglake farm and his business and the incomes earned by his employees have a significant ‘knock on’ effect within the devastated district. The day after the fire, 8th February, one determined group of staff insisted on clearing the exit road from Kinross Farm to the outside world and drove the company semi-trailer down the mountain to fulfil commitments to the CSL contract.<br /><br />In the first few days following Black Saturday, Philip Szepe and David Eastwood were determined to keep the farm producing and ran on emergency generators, sleeping in shifts at the farm and waking to refuel and check the delicate computerised systems and climate controls necessary to produce the eggs from which the life saving vaccines are manufactured. They did this to give other staff members time to regroup emotionally and take stock of the incinerated devastation around them. Ten Kinross employees lost their homes during the blazes, and all lost friends in the fires. Dave Eastwood says, “the guys gave everything they had to fight the fires…there’s not a job here that people wouldn’t do, management included, we all muck in and it’s the best place to work because we all pull together”.<br /><br />Some of Kinross’s employees have been with the organisation for 20 years, Philip Szepe went to school with some of his workers, they have shared lives, milestones and the growth of a business started in 1965 by Philip’s father, an Hungarian immigrant. It’s this bond with his community that made Szepe so determined to make his business a haven of normalcy amidst a charred landscape and a base from which he can support his employees and their families.<br /><br />Suffice to say, the little egg farm that emerged from the Black Saturday fires unscathed, will have some very productive, cosseted hens and some very tired roosters for the foreseeable future. Perhaps then, Mr Ramsay should stick to his omelettes and let the real cocks do the crowing.<br /><br />Are you worried about Swine Flu mutating, or do you think it's all way over the top in terms of media coverage? I'd be really interested to know your thoughts - just post a comment below.<br /><br />(Since the first cases of H1N1 (Swine) Flu emerged in Mexico several weeks ago, CSL Ltd, has assiduously collected virus samples via WHO, to develop ‘seed’ viruses from which a vaccine can be developed in their laboratories in Parkville, Victoria. The development of a potential vaccine is dependent on the cultures being grown in fertile hen eggs in staggering quantities.<br />At the time of publishing, Dr Rachel David of CSL confirmed that the Australian Federal Government had ordered 10 million doses of the new vaccine when it rolls off production line, in August, and the US Health Department has signed an order for 48 million doses of the influenza antigen vaccine = AUD $230 million. According to (WHO) Dr Ian Barr of the Collaborating Centre for Influenza in Melbourne, CSL are further down the track than other facilities globally, and it has now been confirmed that clinical trials of CSL’s vaccine, Novel H1N1, will begin in mid-July (Said to be Wednesday, 22 July, 2009) at Royal Adelaide Hospital in South Australia.<br /><a href="http://www.csl.com.au/s1/cs/auhq/1182280826145/content/1182280826258/home.htm">http://www.csl.com.au/s1/cs/auhq/1182280826145/content/1182280826258/home.htm</a><br /><br />In Australian dollar terms, one dose of normal flu vaccine with defence against three strains, leaves CSL during the flu season at a wholesale cost of AUD $10 per dose. Dr David maintains that she has not yet fully established the unit cost of the Novel H1N1 antigen for Australia although the USA’s order for AUD $230 million = 40 to 48 million doses.)<br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pascarl">www.twitter.com/pascarl</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-53819411228837203792009-06-30T08:11:00.000-07:002009-07-02T01:16:49.523-07:00ARE WE WORTH IT? Who will be at your funeral and why?So, when you're on your death bed, who'll be hovering around?<br /><br />This past week, the media has been utterly pre-occupied with two very famous people who shrugged off their mortal coils. The passing of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson has been water cooler fodder for days now - with a bizarre focus on the gloved one and a global hysteria and intrusion already well beyond the macabre.<br /><a href="http://www.etonline.com/news/2009/06/75905/index.html">http://www.etonline.com/news/2009/06/75905/index.html</a><br /><br />For me and mine, death has been at the forefront in our household too, lost in the furore, but on the same day, a member of our extended family, aged 91, finally left us. She took her last breaths as her daughter held her hand, and her beloved <em>daughter-in-law</em> kept vigil. Her adult grandsons arriving quietly to lovingly say goodbye. What a contrast indeed to the circus surrounding MJ! <strong><em>Kit</em></strong> was known by no-one beyond her circle of friends and family, but she probably had much more of a meaningful and gentle impact on all those she gave <em>to</em> than she could ever have imagined - for she gave of herself, her talents and her skills without ever flinching and without remuneration or adulation. Not wealthy or a celebrity, she baked simple foods and delivered them where she felt they were needed - as a sign that someone was deserving of being cared for. She made thousands of sweaters and handmade toys and sent them out into the world to comfort, and she laughed and giggled with such contagion that all who loved her can still recall the sound.<br /><br />She never counted on the cold comfort of a scrapbook of press clippings to re-affirm her worth on her deathbed and reassure her of her accomplishments, she lived her life fully, yet humbly, and her only applause was today, at her funeral, when all present clapped in agreement during the simple eulogy.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://www.examiner.com/x-9259-Miami-Celebrity-Headlines-Examiner~y2009m6d27-Farrah-Fawcetts-funeral-arrangements">http://www.examiner.com/x-9259-Miami-Celebrity-Headlines-Examiner~y2009m6d27-Farrah-Fawcetts-funeral-arrangements</a><br />So in the coming days, when the hoped for dignity of a private family funeral for a Charlie's Angel is over and intruded upon, and the hoopla of a showbiz circus is completed (or renourished), when they've buried Michael Jackson; I recommend you reflect on what you have witnessed in the media coverage of those two events. How many well known people and performing artists, paused sadly, in carefully thought out ensembles and skillfully applied makeup to be photographed or interviewed, who was devoid of sophistry and simply gathered inside to pay their respects at the ceremonies, and how many, caught up in the <em>image</em> and celebrity devotion, joined a form of mass hysteria for a person they didn't know at all.</p>How you live your life defines who will be at your funeral because they want to, or because they have to. Will they attend as a friend to mourn, or as a spectator to relish?<br /><br />What do you think and how do you make your life worth it? Please let me know.<br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pascarl">www.twitter.com/pascarl</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-57346469351484502692009-06-26T09:28:00.000-07:002009-06-26T09:50:47.868-07:00MICHAEL JACKSON - SOME PERSPECTIVE PLEASE!I've danced to his music, laughed to his music, loved to his music, but truly, can we have a <em>modicum</em> of perspective on Michael Jackson's death?<br /><br />What or when did he sacrifice, discover, show courage, act bravely, lead by example, invent a life saving vaccine, show true humility, go out on a limb politically, or do anything else than make music and perform?<br /><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/photogallery/lifestyle/people/michael-jackson-through-the-years/20090626-czk3.html">http://www.theage.com.au/photogallery/lifestyle/people/michael-jackson-through-the-years/20090626-czk3.html</a><br />What is his legacy?<br /><br />Wonderful, joyful music that is a marker for many of us. We have shared our first dance, our first kiss, our weddings, our proms, our driving, our cooking, our parties and so, <em>so,</em> much more with his soundtrack in the background. We shared our joy with him, yes, absolutely - and I can truly say I am grateful for his creativity. But he also leaves behind three children, including two sons named Prince Michael numbers one and two, and a daughter, Paris, all three of whom will <em>tragically</em> have to bear the brunt of lifelong innuendo on their father's cloudy doings and bizarre behaviour.<br /><br />Sad that a woman who bravely and openly battled a difficult cancer has been almost forgotten in the frenzy following the probable self-destruction of a man of great musical genius, but questionable character. The question is, who would you have trusted your children around, Farrah Fawcett or Michael Jackson?<br /><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/photogallery/lifestyle/people/charlies-angel/20090407-9vm5.html">http://www.theage.com.au/photogallery/lifestyle/people/charlies-angel/20090407-9vm5.html</a><br /><br />Love Jackson’s music, but don’t eulogise a saint who wasn’t. Any death is a tragedy for those who love and are loved - how many in Darfur / Iran / Iraq etc etc etc today?<br /><br />Perplexing indeed.<br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pascarl">www.twitter.com/pascarl</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-14014617979909656892009-06-25T02:18:00.000-07:002009-06-25T02:40:41.400-07:00UNVEILING ISLAM - The burqa explainedBefore this commentary gets underway, I feel that it is necessary to close the gate before the horse bolts. So first up, let me say that I am not anti-Islamic, I have lived as a Muslim woman from the age of seventeen until I was twenty two (and admittedly, found it not to my liking for a number of reasons). I have four children, two of whom are Muslims and with whom I have a warm, relaxed and loving relationship – we are a family regardless of religion. Much of my professional life has been spent working with, and for Muslim people in the war zones of Bosnia Herzogovina, Kosovo and Albania as an humanitarian relief worker, and I have travelled and worked extensively in the Middle East, Europe, Africa and Asia - so I have seen quite a bit of the world and can compare how varying societies adapt the Islamic religion to the cultural morays and sensitivities of their regions. In light of the bravery exhibited by so many women who have taken to the streets in Iran post elections I felt compelled to be honest in what I know of the dress code for Muslim women. <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31529744/displaymode/1168/rstry/31531225/rpage/1/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31529744/displaymode/1168/rstry/31531225/rpage/1/</a><br />Tory Maguire’s piece yesterday in <a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/">http://www.thepunch.com.au/</a> and the reader’s comments that followed<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/nicholas-sarkozy-is-right-the-burqa-is-misogynist/">http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/nicholas-sarkozy-is-right-the-burqa-is-misogynist/</a><br /><br />had much to say on the reasons often cited by western media and society about what is believed to be the motivation for Muslim women to don the burqa and headscarves. The common, misinformed perception is that Muslim women mostly wear the burqa to express their religious devotion. Frankly, I’ve lived on both sides of this debate, and I would like to put the record straight once and for all as I was instructed during my time in a moderately strict Islamic society - to wear a burqa, hijab or headscarf during daily life is not prescribed specifically anywhere in the Koran – it is not wajib (mandatory and prescribed by the Koran), but only sunat (recommended culturally).<br /><a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/91/265440169_7a805b4a59_o.jpg">http://farm1.static.flickr.com/91/265440169_7a805b4a59_o.jpg</a><br />As a royal princess in an Islamic country (Malaysia), and originally hailing from Australia, I was required, after my marriage, to undertake four years of Islamic study under the tutelage of the Royal Household’s Iman and religious teacher. We used text books primarily sourced from Pakistan and Egypt which had been specially printed in English for converts to Islam, as well as long tracts of the Koran and my tutor’s own knowledge and interpretations as he was a respected scholar nationally. The majority of these texts were from Cairo University – the penultimate centre of Islamic scholarship in the 20th century.<br /><br />These twice weekly classes over four years, were never undertaken between myself and my teacher without the presence of my servants, or another royal lady who acted as chaperones – not for my chastity or purity, but, as the Iman explained to me, for his! He truly believed that I, or any woman, could not be trusted in the lone company of a male without the baser instincts of the female gender coming to the fore.<br /><br />According to these books, I was to learn that it was fine for a husband to beat his wife as long as he didn’t mark her face, I was to ascertain that female circumcision was not mandatory or even mentioned in the Koran, that it is a cultural practice only. However, the father who does instigate the excision of the clitoris of his female child will be rewarded in heaven – this again, I stress, was not mentioned anywhere in the Koran, but simply extrapolated from cultural musings of a scholarly nature. In other words, female genital mutilation is not a religious Islamic practice at all as dictated by the holy words of the Prophet Mohamed. That abhorrent undertaking is about control of women and tempering their sensuality – it has nothing to do with religion and I have yet to meet any Australian Iman who would say otherwise.<br /><br />I was taught scores of things by the Royal Iman, the beauty of many tracts of the Koran, the cadence of the Arabic language; but much of the teachings, as opposed to the Koran itself, were strictly cultural and archaic, rather than the pure religious teachings of the Koran. I learnt that the primary reason women are required by Islamic societies (the majority of which are patriarchal) to swathe themselves in fabrics and cover their collar bones, necks, arms, legs, ankles, calves, chests, elbows, shoulders, throats, thighs, ears, napes of necks, hair and in some cases, faces, is that women are culturally condemned to the roll of seductress and are considered untrustworthy, immoral humans, driven to tempt men and bring down the bastions of male self-control. The fine shape of an ankle, or a tendril of hair – a glimpse of which can send a mere male into a sexual frenzy, are the tools of seduction. In essence and to outline it crudely – the veil, much lauded by so called Islamic teachings, is a protection for men against we voracious vixens of the mortal world. Not, as so many pundits state, a protection for women against men.<br /><br />Yes, during prayer, it is common for women to don a full-length, white hijab, but this is because no hair or overt skin, other than the face, may be visible during devotions. Similarly, a man may not have any hair come between his forehead and his prayer mat as he kneels and prostrates himself during the recitations of Koranic verse, technically he must be covered only from knee to waist, but the little white crocheted caps have become popular as they are convenient to wear during prayers and keep the hair under control.<br /><br />Women must not pray at the forefront of a mosque, in front of men. Women must take their places in prayer at the rear so as not to distract the male congregation from their rituals. But even in prayer, not one of the lines of the Koran bids a woman to have her face completely obliterated by a burqa – her face may be shown to Allah and all around her.<br /><br />Even culturally, under the Islamic teachings I studied and with which I was indoctrinated, not one stanza exhorted a man to order his woman to cover her face – everything else, yes, but to wend her way along streets covered in a tent with only slits for her vision was never mentioned. Similarly, I am deeply perplexed by the current custom of small, Australian primary aged girls attending taxpayer subsidised private Islamic schools, wearing hijabs as part of their mandatory uniform. There are no teachings which direct females to cover all the parts of the body and the hair prior to puberty. In other words, if a girl has not yet menstruated, a headscarf is not a part of the dress code under Islam.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/79118623@N00/491503630">http://www.flickr.com/photos/79118623@N00/491503630</a><br />I have heard it argued by a young Muslim teenager that a hijab or a burqa denotes a female as a “girl or woman of dignity”. My gentle reply was that demeanour and deeds denote dignity, not a piece of fabric. The Koran mentions modesty, but does not describe a burqa or a hijab.<br /><a href="http://img397.imageshack.us/i/hijabstylesix6.jpg/">http://img397.imageshack.us/i/hijabstylesix6.jpg/</a><br />Which brings me to another point, it is most often the strictures imposed by the fathers and husbands within the Islamic communities that lead women to take up the hijab or the burqa. The social pressure on the males, their fear of perceptions within male circles, leads to the demand that their female relatives cloak themselves in what they perceive to be the trappings of honour to ensure, and demonstrate their trustworthiness and prove a lack of feminine sexual sophistication. In other words, the worth of a man is valued in how they control their womenfolk. Frankly, it’s a rather akin to preserving the wrappings on valuable goods before they’re purchased.<br /><br />But it is implicit within well educated Islamic circles that head coverings on women are a cultural, and or personal choice, not necessarily a religious one except during prayer.<br /><br />Queen Rania of Jordan, does not don any form of veil, she wears everything from leather trousers to business suits and haute couture gowns very openly – not just on foreign state visits, but in her day to day life amongst her people. (As ironically, did Lebanese born, Empress Farah Diba of Iran). Rania’s predecessor, Queen Noor (the former Lisa Halaby who began life as an American) did the same. Both women, at the highest echelons of Islamic society have stood beside their well educated, monarch husbands and exhorted their country to educate their children and most particularly the girls. Both queens have openly discussed breastfeeding and cleverly quoted passages of the Koran to support their stances on family.<br /><a href="https://twitter.com/QueenRania">https://twitter.com/QueenRania</a><br /><a href="http://www.queenrania.jo/">http://www.queenrania.jo/</a><br /><a href="http://www.kinghusseinfoundation.org/index.php?pager=end&task=view&type=content&pageid=61">http://www.kinghusseinfoundation.org/index.php?pager=end&task=view&type=content&pageid=61</a><br /><br />It is a shame that so many of the men who have coaxed, or pressured, or demanded that their womenfolk don the burqa, or that their toddler daughters don a hijab prematurely, are most probably unable to read the Koran in its original Arabic other than by rote and are dependent on the interpretations incorrectly preached to them by immoderate clerics, and cultural exhortations not based in pure religion. The problem with so many clerics in powerful positions within many immigrant Islamic communities around the globe, is that these religious leaders do not allow for intellectual freedom, or personal interpretation when it comes to matters of self assessed modesty and female dressing because of the narrowness in which they view women’s supposedly intemperate sexuality and the lack of self-control in men.<br /><br />Surely in 2009, human beings can be trusted to walk down the street, safe in the knowledge that a glimpse of hair will not cause a riot or an orgy. A veil worn in any form should be a personal and independent choice, free of familial or social pressure, A perambulating shroud should not be used to effectively excise a woman from the society in which they live and the possibilities of the freedoms we should all enjoy. Vive l’France!<br /><a href="http://media.charlotteobserver.com/smedia/2009/06/19/13/854FRANCE_BURQA.sff.embedded.prod_affiliate.138.jpg">http://media.charlotteobserver.com/smedia/2009/06/19/13/854FRANCE_BURQA.sff.embedded.prod_affiliate.138.jpg</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-82075130650188042042009-06-22T17:23:00.000-07:002009-06-22T17:58:50.215-07:00UTEGATE, AUSSIE STRINE & TITS ON A BULLLook, let's stop gilding the lily about this ute business and get down to brass tacks, stone the crows, anyone would think that the PM was having a lend and spinning a yarn. Swannie and Ruddie just had a severe case of Ute envy - I've seen my ball and chain under the spell of many a Holden & Ford and it's a pitiful thing to witness...mild mannered urbanites suddenly fancying themselves DIY kings.<br /><a href="http://blog.hemmings.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/holden%20utes.jpg">http://blog.hemmings.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/holden%20utes.jpg</a><br /><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b8/Deni_ute_muster_2002_two_utes.jpg">http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b8/Deni_ute_muster_2002_two_utes.jpg</a><br />It’s obvious that Kev’ just thought the ‘traddie’s truck’ was a bit of alright and just wanted in on the bizzo. Any tic of the clock the truth will out about the old bomb and the federal ‘blue heelers’ will come up with the fact it’s all a p**s take - the PM was only as keen as mustard for a chippies chugger and simply not the full quid in his reckoning about whether or not us voters would think he was coming the raw prawn about why and how he got one.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/utegate-explained-its-not-just-about-an-email/">http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/utegate-explained-its-not-just-about-an-email/</a><br /><br />Maybe the missus wouldn’t fork out for a 4 x 4 for Kev’ and he was just being a bit of s**t stirrer - even Therese thinks the whole thing’s a bit suss and probably wants a squiz at all the emails to make sure. But fair suck of the sauce bottle, there ARE some things a bloke just has to have, a thingummy-jig for the wachama-callit and a ute to hit the frog and toad. Everything’s just Black and Decker – no need to spit the dummy – it’s just because the PM’s a tight-arse and bought a lemon – I mean have a gander – the bloody thing doesn’t even have a tow bar so it’s as useless as tits on a bull.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdczAnUr7PE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdczAnUr7PE</a><br />NB: For my non-Australian readers, a Ute (or utility) is a single cabin, low rise truck commonly used by carpenters (chippies), builders and bricklayers (brickies) -the 'Trades', a hardy vehicle for tough guys. The majority of language used above is Ausssie slang - known as 'Strine' - an evolvement on Cockney rhyming slang from the last century. As I am multi-lingual and incredibly talented, I am happy to intrepret any of the finer points which may need translating, but for now, I'm off to stuff my gob with a slab of choccie, have a bex and a good lie down!<br /><a href="http://www.twitter.com/pascarl">www.twitter.com/pascarl</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-2590029225270722412009-06-16T23:01:00.000-07:002009-06-17T21:43:19.492-07:00THINK GREEN, THINK FREEDOM, THINK SOLIDARITYWhen you close your eyes can you conjure up the first time your olfactory senses registered a really beautiful perfume?<br /><br />Were you four or five years old when scent took up your imagination, was it worn by a grandmother, or can you remember your mother sweeping up a delicate bottle from her dressing table and spritzing each wrist? Did your mother dab a little behind your ears, or were you a small boy enveloped in her fragrance as she kissed you goodnight?<br /><br />Now imagine a hardline, Islamic society where perfume and makeup equates to the arsenal of seduction forbidden by their overly strict interpretation of the Koran, or the use of alcohol as a fixative in fragrance means that you have just doused yourself in the equivalent of pure whisky. Have you just brushed your freshly washed hair and relish the thought of it hanging loose around your shoulders, or have you added a smudge of lipstick to your lips because it makes you happy?<br /><br />Now think of the women in Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan for whom these simple actions of feminity are fraught with risk.<br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Million_Signatures">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Million_Signatures</a><br />In the last week, I have watched as valiant young Iranian women, counting on safety in numbers, took to the streets and marched for the politics in which they believe, and wish to openly and loudly support - I applauded, but also felt a prickle of fear for them. Many threw off their head scarves, donned green head bands and applied a defiant slash of colour to their lips. As Twitter now brings us firsthand news of the violent reprisals following the <em>suspect</em> results of the elections in Iran, I ponder on how the women will protect themselves against retribution for their momentary feminist stance.<br /><a href="http://twitter.com/Rashn">http://twitter.com/Rashn</a><br /><a href="http://twitter.com/persiankiwi">http://twitter.com/persiankiwi</a><br /><a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/events/iran-social-media/">http://www.abc.net.au/news/events/iran-social-media/</a><br /><br />I await with trepidation, the resurgence of the anomynity afforded by the burqa, the quiet retreat to the veil that shrouds identity and protects the men of their families. For this independent and political statement made by women in Iran, will most probably lead to punishment not just of them, but of their menfolk for failing to control the women of their households. I feel such sadness and inevitablity as I imagine lipsticks being hidden in wall cavities, or bottles of fragrance disappearing down toilets and the concealment of those bright green headbands that shouted "we have an opinion and we want change".<br /><a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/fisk/robert-fisk-fear-has-gone-in-a-land-that-has-tasted-freedom-1706912.html">http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/fisk/robert-fisk-fear-has-gone-in-a-land-that-has-tasted-freedom-1706912.html</a><br /><a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/where-is-my-vote-iran-melbourne-rally/">http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/where-is-my-vote-iran-melbourne-rally/</a><br />As you apply your splash of fragrance today, or freshen your lipstick as automatically and as freely as you walk out your door after choosing a bright outfit and sassy shoes to go with your freshly blow dried hair - think of the women of Iran for whom the future is so unsure and so lacking in the freedoms and choices we take for granted.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/17/AR2009061700172.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/17/AR2009061700172.html</a><br /><br />Think green, think freedom, think solidarity.<br /><br /><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/8104848.stm">http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/8104848.stm</a><br /><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/diane-tucker/iranian-women-we-feel-che_b_216977.html#postComment">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/diane-tucker/iranian-women-we-feel-che_b_216977.html#postComment</a><br />http://www.twitter.com/pascarlJacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-83606359552241433952009-06-11T23:59:00.000-07:002009-06-12T00:24:34.437-07:00Oink oink & all that jazzI sit before the keyboard in the grip of a pandemic - yes, I live in Melbourne, Australia, one of <em>the</em> MOST Swine Flu infected places on the earth according to WHO; and as luck would have it, I suspect that I have acquired H1N1 from my children's associates at that cesspool of disease, commonly referred to as 'school'.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/tags/swine-flu/">http://www.thepunch.com.au/tags/swine-flu/</a><br /><br />So I shall skip any attempt at witty repartee, forgo my snappy lines and merely groan........<br />"Is life worth living if one can't even taste chocolate?"<br /><br />Apart from checking in the mirror for the sprouting of a curly little tail and other porcine characteristics, I know that this too will pass.<br /><br />I wave a pathetically wan hand at you and bid adieu - until the fever passes and I have something decent and coherent to say.<br /><br />But I leave you with two thoughts that age should never be a barrier or an excuse<br /><br /><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/world/96yearold-masters-student-pulled-allnighters-20090612-c571.html">http://www.theage.com.au/world/96yearold-masters-student-pulled-allnighters-20090612-c571.html</a><br />and<br />‘Goldfishing©’! No-one likes to see a woman swirling around inside a brandy glass (unless she’s an exotic dancer in a seedy nightclub surrounded by sweaty palmed ‘desperates’. One wine, one water is the rule to swill by. And tying one on obviously has some consequences!<br /><a href="http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25623139-2862,00.html">http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25623139-2862,00.html</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-51908945073929800092009-06-05T19:10:00.000-07:002009-06-05T20:16:12.350-07:00FLIRTATION vs FRUITIONWhen once I found myself sharing the back <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">seat</span> of a limousine with a <em>very</em> mature Supreme Court Justice, following a wonderfully chic Arts (with a capital 'A') reception in Manhattan to benefit the UN, I was forced to remind him that there is an <em>enormous</em> difference between <em>Flirtation</em> and <em>Fruition</em>.<br /><br />Being a chilly evening, and the fact that the car was in fact mine, my options at this stage were either a well placed, yet indecorous knee to his groin, or a gentle reminder that in Europe it <em>is</em> polite to flirt, but to touch is considered <em>very</em> tacky indeed.<br /><br />(I should also add that any flirting from me in the lead up to this incident was purely delusional on the part of the Judge, as <em>my</em> eye had been rather firmly fixed on a tall and definitely single Swedish diplomat on the right side of 40, with whom I'd been discussing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Drottingholm</span> Castle and its revolving ballet stage circa 1700.)<br /><br />Which leaves me to reflect that is is such a pity that so few men and women outside of France, Italy or Spain, understand the nuance <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">between</span> the <em>'F'</em> words.<br /><br />A <em>frisson</em> is created with <em>flirtation</em>, eye contact held just a little longer than necessary, the slight nod of heads from across a room, a half smile and the small, and rueful shrug with no words exchanged or physical contact. Perhaps it's a little intellectual jousting or good natured banter - but all the <em>flirtation</em> in the world does not equal the other 'F' word...... a F**k!<br /><br />Think Dita <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">von</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Teese</span> and her tantalising turns - now there is a woman who knows the difference between <em>all</em> the '<em>F</em>' words.<br /><br /><em>Fruition</em> is not obligatory ......... it's only the prize ....... the game of <em>Flirtation</em> on both sides can be far more enjoyable, and often holds far less disappointment and heartbreak. A little tachycardia lets you know you're a live.<br /><br />Off to find <em>Fulfillment</em> with a <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ferrero</span></em> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Rocher</span> chocolate with my name on it.<br /><br />twitter.com/Pascarl<br />I will be delving into this and other puzzling topics later this month in Sydney, Australia.<br /><a href="http://www.thevictoriaroom.com/?p=95-Regular--Upcoming-Events">http://www.thevictoriaroom.com/?p=95-Regular--Upcoming-Events</a>JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-700869716070939085.post-57609993986011277342009-06-04T17:07:00.000-07:002009-06-04T17:41:49.188-07:00More Flash than PashNothing screams erectile dysfunction like a diamond encrusted Rolex.<br /><br />In my vast experience of travelling round the globe and my exposure to the well heeled, I have come to the conclusion that it takes a certain type of man to sport a watch the value of which would feed several villages in Sudan for two years.<br /><br />They are of a sad, and certain age, needy of ego and with erections propped up by Viagra & carbon based stones. Some have emerged from communist China with newly found capitalist bank accounts and they want everyone to know it. Occassionally they are Hip Hop gangsta rappers who believe that extra bling will function as a light source if ever marooned in the wilderness. Certain Queensland property developers have also been known to sport the links of time & tack.<br />Sometimes that are very minor members (and have minor members) of a Middle Eastern Royal family riding on the coat-tails of their Oxford educated cousins.<br /><br />But the common belief they all seem to hold, is that once blinded by the eye burning reflections from all that gold, crystal and diamond, young, leggy and gormless women will love them for themselves. Did I mention the moon is purple with green spots?<br /><br />Tasteful and discreet is best when it comes to wristwear. One should wear a watch, not the watch wear one.<br /><br />Off to rummage for some Callebaut chocolate in the pantry.<br /><br />I will be pondering these and other puzzling issues of good form later this month in Sydney, Australia.<br /><a href="http://www.thevictoriaroom.com/?p=95-Regular--Upcoming-Events">http://www.thevictoriaroom.com/?p=95-Regular--Upcoming-Events</a><br />Or catch me on Twitter.JacquelinePascarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01213608174505637552noreply@blogger.com3