A mixed bag.

The doorbell is a ringing around these parts a lot, as I have taken to the inter webs to to do my Christmas shopping this year. You see, when I go to the actual shops with my list I get so overwhelmed that I usually leave with NOTHING. And then I get all annoyed that I have to go back. So this year it is being done from the comfort of my Big Mac.

A few of my best pressies? Why sure!

This is for Dr. Woog, who enjoys gentle outdoor pursuits such as croquet, agility dog training and footy watching.

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Although it looks like some sort of genealogical device, it is actually a walking stick that turns into a little stool! Bloody magnificent. From here.

Oh, and for Mr. Woog? Ok, so every afternoon he yells out “Has anyone seen my thongs?” and then he always finds them on Horatio’s feet, and then they have a blue about who actually owns the thongs. So I discovered that you can actually design your own Havianas, and so I did. With his name stamped in across the straps so no more arguing. Genius! Click here.

Meanwhile if you are stuck for ideas for gifts this year, The WoogsWorld Facebook Community have put together an awesome list of online retailers. Check out this Post .

In other news my house is wet. There is a small film of damp on everything thanks to the rain rain rain, sun sun sun, rain rain rain. It is pissing me off and it is making me stick to seats. I don’t like it. Begone humidity!

Mr Woog is away this week for work, yet he will be delighted on his return to find that the frangipani, that he embarrassingly pulled out of someones green recycling bin, has come back to life. What a timely Christmas message for those believers amongst us, except that should really be an Easter message now that I think about it. Anyway, I have christened this plant Jesus, for he too came back to life.

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And finally some sad news came through last night. My sister Mrs. Ryan announced that her beloved cat had passed away peacefully in the arms of her husband, about ten minutes before she got home from work.

Mrs Mouse was a famous resident of their street. She was near to 20 years old, which is an extraordinary feat for a cat not known for its smarts. She spent her twilight years on the front verandah talking to the people as they went by. One of my favourite Mrs’ Mouse stories goes a little something like this.

Many years ago, it was New Years day and my brother-in-law, suffering from the after effects of a party, wandered out of the bedroom and plonked himself down onto the couch, in the exact spot that a very early onset geriatric Mrs Mouse had just used as a toilet, and yes. We are talking number 2’s.

I suppose at this point it might be worthwhile mentioning that Mr. Ryan was sans pants at the time.

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Rest In Peace Mrs. Mousie Mouse.

What a face, what an attitude. What a life.

Have you done your shopping yet?

Leave your condolences for Mrs Ryan below.