I’m A Fashion Victim!

Image courtesy of Andrés Moreira @ Flickr

You’re probably aware of the collapse of the Colorado clothing brand. Ordinarily, this kind of news doesn’t bother me and I must admit that even this situation doesn’t rattle me much. Having said that though, I was always a fan of Colorado. The brand portrayed an outdoors, adventurous style that appealed to me and I found their clothes to be comfortable and reasonably priced. Obviously now I find myself in a tight spot as far as fashion goes – as someone having a “guy sense” when it comes to style, I’m feeling like a bit of a fish out of water.

Happy Birthday, Wolf Brother.

Today is the anniversary of my brother’s birth. A soul charged (some would say burdened, but I’m not here to nit-pick) with a margin of responsibility for the safety and development of this blogger.

I’d like to take a moment to give back to the man who, as one of the people I look up to, has given me so very much over the years. A wonderful brother who always had a watchful eye out for me and has pretty much always been there to help me through the rough times. He took his job seriously, and looking back now I can see that he only ever had my best interests at heart.

Tropical Paradise and Man-Eating Eels

Tropical Paradise - or Eel-infested Death Trap?

On a number of occasions during my youth our family holidayed in the Solomon Islands. We stayed in a small village I remember as Tambia (although Google has no idea the place exists in the Solomons; instead it points me to a resort in Fiji and let me tell you I KNOW we didn’t stay there!) -[EDIT: Conversation with my Mum tonight revealed that the actual spelling is Tambea – thanks Mum!]- It was a simple place, in my memory it was an isolated oasis of small, thatch-roofed huts and other resort facilities nestled in beautiful tropical surrounds.

The crystal clear waters of the Pacific Ocean rolled onto black sand beaches; days were filled with simple pleasures like canoeing, snorkelling or simply wandering those miraculous shores and the nights were spent with the caretakers and other residents of the village, the adults conversing and the children playing by the light of kerosene tiki torches and moonlight. In addition to being a tranquil playground, Tambia Village was also an educational wonderland. One particular lesson will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Table Dancing Survival 101

For those of you who read my “About Me” section, you may have stumbled upon the mention of my awkwardly awesome left arm. Here and now I will relive the incident in the hopes of educating others – particularly young children who like to read blogs about safety (I’m envious of their ability to use the internet and iPhones before they’ve finished potty training by the way), about the occasional down side of not listening to advice given by parents. While the result is a spectacular party gross-out, I wouldn’t recommend that every 4 – 6 year old tries this at home.

In the early 1980s my family lived in Papua New Guinea. I was about 4 years old and it was an amazing place to me. We lived right across the road from the beach (yeah!) and while my Dad worked, Mum kept an eye on my brother, sister and me as we entertained ourselves in a world of trees, bushes and hand-made excitement.

Mad Props to Mad Props!

George couldn't find voice for his love; Meredith was speechless.

Wolf Brother and I were watching Moonraker last night and as we enjoyed the action sequences something dawned on us – for all the credit that gets thrown around once a movie is completed, there is none to be had for the stunt dummies. I am here to change that today!