tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30823079035711377122023-11-16T22:46:37.988+10:00KRISTY BERRIDGEI'll try to keep it interesting, but I save the good stuff for my books!Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.comBlogger330125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-45674309582551645582020-12-12T09:01:00.002+10:002020-12-12T09:01:32.887+10:00What are 15 things no one knows about you?<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJiNI3RCAJxT8kOgTk3TncoIkC2axLuLmPIvRkQgMBmdU89LLxNOKZ-QXFgvH5n8o00HTVNwDv3ioxDcP1gTJUPvyh6KghkAyny8fqIl2LNKbTn9fHtOpWJ98u161_bAcyQvfu0HJSuTq/s225/you+dont+know+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJiNI3RCAJxT8kOgTk3TncoIkC2axLuLmPIvRkQgMBmdU89LLxNOKZ-QXFgvH5n8o00HTVNwDv3ioxDcP1gTJUPvyh6KghkAyny8fqIl2LNKbTn9fHtOpWJ98u161_bAcyQvfu0HJSuTq/s0/you+dont+know+me.jpg" /></a></div>Sometimes
it’s nice to do a little get to know me, especially for those of you that are
new to the fictional world of Kristy Berridge. Like any writer, I’m full of a
bit of drama and have a decent flair for the theatrics on occasion, but for the
purpose of this blog, I won’t go into the details of my side hustle selling
kidneys on the black market.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">Kidding.
So here are fifteen things you may or may not know about me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I never wanted to have
children, but I now am the proud owner of a bouncing baby boy. We call him
Archibald or pain-in-the-ass for short </span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">😊</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I prefer to wear dresses
over a pair of shorts – I have a giant ass and sometimes it’s too hard to
squeeze everything into certain fabrics.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I love to eat breakfast at
any time of the day (cereal and fruit, not eggs and bacon).<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I can’t let anyone stack my
dishwasher – That shit is like a game of Tetris and no one can conquer the
gaps like I can with plates and spoons.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I don’t eat any meat or
fish, but do like the occasional bit of cheese.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I don’t like exercising at
night or any time after lunch – It’s just cause I’m lazy ...<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I hate it when people are on
their phones during social occasions – i.e.: out at dinner, family BBQ etc
etc.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I absolutely hate coriander.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I used to rub a pair of
satin boxer shorts to go to sleep right up until I moved in with my
husband 7 years ago – My best mate made me throw them out. I’m still
hating on her for that.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I don’t believe in writer’s
block, just shit ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I need to be around nature,
without it I perish – A tad dramatic, but mostly true.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I’m still annoyed and
frankly amazed that no one has invented calorie free chocolate yet (one
that doesn’t make you shit yourself).<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">Ironically, I’d rather read
a health and wellness magazine than a novel.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">I wish I’d become a spy or a
secret agent so I could kill assholes in the name of government service.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">No matter how far or wide I
travel, it’s never enough for me. I think I’m a gypsy at heart.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">Kristy </span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">😊</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-58885354709233951252020-11-21T10:26:00.000+10:002020-11-21T10:26:07.182+10:00Small steps that lead to a healthier you!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQpqxEi5u7BBwZEFJzV8Yx90v0EPPnQIsVilFYC1wUPcKPPPz8WPMy3CfZSgsmHwCE19vn5IMzpKf6E1B53GuYEKbwgInc0O6noi8ow75p8SsXonR3qsIUR9M6f75N9cxvVYLF4rHsNfg/s225/fruit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQpqxEi5u7BBwZEFJzV8Yx90v0EPPnQIsVilFYC1wUPcKPPPz8WPMy3CfZSgsmHwCE19vn5IMzpKf6E1B53GuYEKbwgInc0O6noi8ow75p8SsXonR3qsIUR9M6f75N9cxvVYLF4rHsNfg/s0/fruit.jpg" /></a></div>I’m never one to consider myself a health and wellness
expert. I completed a one-year stint in nutrition and then dumped it in favour
of focusing on my writing. Perhaps that might not have been the wisest choice
considering I’m not snorting cocaine off the backside of a hot Spaniard on my
forty-foot yacht in the Caribbean.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>But, one year and a keen interest in nutrition and health does equate to
hefty opinions. And small steps are the key to a healthier version of yourself
regardless of the self-imposed qualifications.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Heath doesn’t equal skinny. Health comes in multiple packages and it’s
important to recognise all of them. A healthy mind driven by focus and
meditative healing can be just as beneficial as six gym sessions and drinking
green smoothies. Granted you can’t meditate your way to a leaner physique, but
as I stated, health isn’t just about physical appearance.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Drinking more water and staying hydrated equals sharper cognition and better
internal functioning. Sleeping more or resting when tired helps the body to
repair and recover when needed. Taking up a physical activity, even if it’s a
sex marathon, will help to keep obesity levels at bay. And of course, taking
the small step to ingest more nourishing food options not only keeps the
waistline down, but helps you poop better. And who doesn’t want to poop better?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Small steps, small changes. They all add up to progressively bigger results.
Don’t stop proactively walking towards a healthier lifestyle just because the
journey may seem too far.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-69766932555779961402020-11-15T09:30:00.002+10:002020-11-15T09:30:18.727+10:00Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyy6YZEPn9dDSJrsuSRVgub6m2N_1Hb2I9ScTp8ZiMZheMeUI65ZTHj8z93rnxlgePR8qhMOADSg4o8JsZsT_LoZy0m2PWvGj5oLkoshQkHL4eMfxC3-S6De73g_cIabVKT1s-bZJ3Vo0l/s275/ocd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyy6YZEPn9dDSJrsuSRVgub6m2N_1Hb2I9ScTp8ZiMZheMeUI65ZTHj8z93rnxlgePR8qhMOADSg4o8JsZsT_LoZy0m2PWvGj5oLkoshQkHL4eMfxC3-S6De73g_cIabVKT1s-bZJ3Vo0l/s0/ocd.jpg" /></a></div>Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, otherwise known to the masses as OCD. I’m not
certain if I’ve ever met anyone that needed to turn the doorknob seventeen
times before exiting or if they need to tap their mouth three times before
answering a question, but what I am quite certain of, is that every single one of
us obsesses over something that needs to be done a certain way.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>For example, I HAVE to stack the dishwasher without assistance. This doesn’t
mean for a second that it runs more efficiently, but I do get a kick out of
‘Tetris-ing’ the shit out of every cup and plate to fit my entire cupboard in
there. Thus, if the hubby even attempts to put a spoon in the knife compartment
or a bowl in the plate rack, I tend to have a mini meltdown.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Crazy, right?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>There is no rhyme nor reason why we do these things. The dishwasher would
not be damaged if my hubby haphazardly stacked it or even put it on half empty,
but my brain can’t handle the inefficiency of his efforts. Not technically and
OCD tendency, it’s still a task that must be completed to my overly high
standard.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Does anyone else tend to mark these psychotic tendencies down to OCD?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-91619656202120985432020-11-07T11:13:00.005+10:002020-11-07T11:44:04.032+10:00My Biggest Pet Peeve!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmSTKt3pMnL6TShWkn2NS1O_L95av7KAZ67v6DRTYf3V7p50YNMhiabiGkbLhHOzUmtV42OYd0GjgmjiYTLzHDJBgbATvgeD3q-ieMmB8Genhx4eFYzDsN9wCTAaZHcZodEFHdKq58J0ap/s323/peeves.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="156" data-original-width="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmSTKt3pMnL6TShWkn2NS1O_L95av7KAZ67v6DRTYf3V7p50YNMhiabiGkbLhHOzUmtV42OYd0GjgmjiYTLzHDJBgbATvgeD3q-ieMmB8Genhx4eFYzDsN9wCTAaZHcZodEFHdKq58J0ap/s320/peeves.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Can you really narrow down your biggest pet peeve to just
one thing? I know I can’t. Perhaps that’s because I’m too tightly wound, a
giant prick or maybe there are just one too many things that really piss me off.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Most people can identify the one thing that really does annoy them more than
anything else. It could be that someone is talking over the top of them, nose
pickers, slow drivers or even assholes that wear active wear in the grocery
store. There are a multitude of things that we as a human race do on occasion that
irritates the person or people closest to us.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>For me, though it may not sound too far out of the realms of relatable, my
biggest pet peeve is my husband. Not him physically or even personally
(otherwise I wouldn’t have married him), but his ridiculously annoying habits.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>He walks all manner of debris over my freshly cleaned floors. He never hangs
up the bath mat. He throws his clothes next to the dirty clothes basket and he
steals my Tim Tams. He panics over the most random and easily resolvable
situations. He’s on his phone all the time and he makes suggestions rather than
just outright telling me what he needs or wants.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Truly, the list could go on and I’d hate to see what really irritates him
about me. But as you can see, not one particular thing peeves me more than
another. I’m just that A-typical personality that’s hard to please, but rather
‘pleased’ the hubby still loves me despite me undoubtedly being his biggest pet
peeve too.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<br /><o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-80213846426387152012020-10-31T12:27:00.003+10:002020-10-31T12:27:21.326+10:00Do we really care about others or is it just pretend?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbgengixCgZ4imeiLkbaOs_BWUMywr_1ttfujX25lImM_59sQswwvTN5WPSbDumHQWmy6bdMNpZlZZkoxTP4ERjcZ6LAlynKwiNzWPfoWjlQ069K28JPodnJMhKJdXA24XdGXCJvCIZKu/s259/caring+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbgengixCgZ4imeiLkbaOs_BWUMywr_1ttfujX25lImM_59sQswwvTN5WPSbDumHQWmy6bdMNpZlZZkoxTP4ERjcZ6LAlynKwiNzWPfoWjlQ069K28JPodnJMhKJdXA24XdGXCJvCIZKu/s0/caring+image.jpg" /></a></div>Do we really care about others or is it just pretend? An interesting thought
and one surely as varied as the billions of entities living on this planet.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>I think it’s fairly safe to say that 95% of us actually do care about the
other people around us. It might not be expressed in the depths that you care
for a family member, your spouse or child, but if we didn’t care to some extent
then social niceties would have become extinct long ago.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Yes, we are raised to stand for the pregnant lady on the bus, let the
elderly man have your seat on the train or let the person busting for a pee
behind you go into the public restroom first. These are our social graces and
the small measures of kindness that we can impart so easily on a daily basis.
But, caring about others can be a deeper, more personal thing. Caring about
others can be as simple as smiling at a stranger that seems down in the dumps,
helping your neighbour to mow their lawn when they’re unable to or sharing a
sandwich with a co-worker without food.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>These are mostly acts that we enact regularly and without thought, but
imagine what else we could accomplish if we cared just that little bit more?
Could we end poverty? Could we stop world hunger? Could we lessen depression by
knowing there is always someone who cares?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>The truth is, there’s so much more that all of us could do to show that we
care and improve upon. Whether we have it in us isn’t really the question, but
whether we care enough to do more is the real crux of the matter ... <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-55385535111020538132020-10-17T09:22:00.003+10:002020-10-17T09:22:57.720+10:00Secrets to putting up with annoying habits.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66o0E1d7DOtjMO6kL5FIp0TAqMYjR4Jv0eyTBDKcxCVZ2Rj5bVj1rsoDcjuwt-_cjJFQi47bWvRBAv9MUm1RkdO6_vnnwIAOR1re8hZTV1mXq8lbZwz3iYEronKg_INq2WgJXo6ncO7_o/s259/digits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66o0E1d7DOtjMO6kL5FIp0TAqMYjR4Jv0eyTBDKcxCVZ2Rj5bVj1rsoDcjuwt-_cjJFQi47bWvRBAv9MUm1RkdO6_vnnwIAOR1re8hZTV1mXq8lbZwz3iYEronKg_INq2WgJXo6ncO7_o/s0/digits.jpg" /></a></div>I don’t think there are any hard and fast rules or even solutions regarding
how to endure bad habits, especially from those you love, but you can choose
how you react.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Bad habits belong to everyone. I myself have chewed my fingernails on and
off since I was nine years old and have never really been able to stop the
digits from entering my mouth over the course of every single day. I also jump
in on family and friends and finish their sentences if I feel it’s taking too
long to get their point across. I’m impatient like that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>But, when it comes to the bad habits of those around us, it’s easy to
nit-pick at their failings rather than take a massive look inwards. For example,
my hubby is amazing in so many respects. He’s kind, protective, intelligent and
often quite thoughtful, but he can also leave the wet mat on the bathroom floor
which tends to drive me batshit crazy. He also never hangs his towel up
straight, never makes the bed, throws his dirty clothes next to the laundry
basket rather than in it and uses every cup, plate, bowl and spoon in the
kitchen rather than re-cycling.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>I’ve truly thought about murdering him on many occasions, but instead of
committing myself to life imprisonment, I decided to alter my perception of his
bad habits. Because let’s face it, nagging never changes a bloody thing. First
off, I had to decide if the wet floor mat was that big of a deal when I have
plenty of other dry ones in the cupboard. Could I scoop up the clothes and pop
them in the basket as I walked past and we have a dishwasher so is it really a
drama that he empties the cupboards?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>The answer was staring me in the face. His bad habits are bad habits that
I’ve imposed upon him. He was quick to remind me that I cut my fingernails on
the couch, never put the rubbish out and force him to eat vegetarian when he’s
a carnivore. The point is, our perspective interprets what is and isn’t a bad
habit and although some things simply annoy or aren’t that good for us, how we
react to each and every situation depends on whether or not it’s bothersome or
not that big of a deal.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<span style="color: red;"></span><o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-9250205356071724762020-10-10T11:34:00.001+10:002020-10-10T11:34:25.403+10:00What I would love to learn how to do?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXKqRq1iVQVNylmtx9qccoZebecxagauzFpQjFQ50E0-IZ9ieZP56_BtsGOZ6QLni4qr6EVXr42Uxghm2GX3tWDrEUcs1qNWmPnKyGkv3Fex0_27-KHjM-TlCGh7wHFS37Kx549tOG_iC/s275/writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXKqRq1iVQVNylmtx9qccoZebecxagauzFpQjFQ50E0-IZ9ieZP56_BtsGOZ6QLni4qr6EVXr42Uxghm2GX3tWDrEUcs1qNWmPnKyGkv3Fex0_27-KHjM-TlCGh7wHFS37Kx549tOG_iC/s0/writing.jpg" /></a></div>Did you ever have a goal or ambition or dream of something that you would
love to do? Well, I’m not really that person. Sorry.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>I have ideas and generalised life targets, but nothing I truly ‘<i>love</i>’
to do. Sometimes I wonder if that’s sad that I don’t have anything in my life
that I’m truly passionate about, but I figure since I’m well-rounded enough to
enjoy multiple different things, that it’s okay not to love just one individual
thing to the extreme.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>For example, I enjoy writing and often find it very cathartic (if my newborn
baby isn’t screaming in the background like he is right now ... BRB)<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Right, so I also like to exercise and eat right because it makes my body
feel good and helps balance any negative emotions that may be festering in my
mind. I enjoy reading health & Fitness magazines when I get a spare minute
(if I get a spare minute. No one tells you when you have a baby that you’ll
never get a spare minute again ... <span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif;">☹</span>)<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Anyway ... I adore catching up with my closest friends and family and I like
to travel more than I like to eat peanut butter, but are these things something
that I would love to do? Would I love to learn a new language? Would I love to
recycle more? Would I love to stop my hubby from farting in bed? The answer is
yes, but I don’t necessarily love these ideas enough to make them happen which
brings me back to the original notion that you need to be passionate in order
to execute.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Does anyone else feel like passion evades their drive?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kristy <span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif;">😊<o:p></o:p></span></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-45950009488926745622020-10-03T09:49:00.002+10:002020-10-03T09:49:23.872+10:00The invasion of the Coronavirus<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALdCI0WQ7e2Z7jCAn0QS8D2Nt802s5r4x5kKgvESC-VbNNSfu3wmu1qLcANTVgUIX3G999AhGZTQeGRf7jYXrpNmtXSR5Lxz6ODwPvpvyRkJQjZSHmeN_rYK_jNrKGzbs3ZCZ9d_6-85f/s259/corovavirus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALdCI0WQ7e2Z7jCAn0QS8D2Nt802s5r4x5kKgvESC-VbNNSfu3wmu1qLcANTVgUIX3G999AhGZTQeGRf7jYXrpNmtXSR5Lxz6ODwPvpvyRkJQjZSHmeN_rYK_jNrKGzbs3ZCZ9d_6-85f/s0/corovavirus.jpg" /></a></div><br />The invasion of the Coronavirus. It is an invasion, right? No one knows for
sure how it might have cropped up other than a theory that perhaps someone ate
a bat from a wet market in China.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Ugh...<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>I don’t want to start in on the sanitation implications of that alone, but
irrespective of where this virus came from or how it might have gained
momentum, it is an invasion. It has invaded our lives all across the globe in
some of the worst ways possible. Our everyday freedom has been quashed, jobs
have been lost, economies have taken a nose-dive and lives have been lost ... a
lot of lives.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>But despite this invasion to our privacy, work, home life and friendship
circles, it has birthed a new generation of inspiring change. Never before has
creativity been fostered so endearingly from kids creating crafts, people
generating a side-hustle income or businesses adapting with new products and
innovative ideas.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Take the extreme loss of life out of the equation and is being invaded all
that bad? The environment is thriving, people are more connected than ever
before and creative productivity has soared to inspirational heights. If you
haven’t been touched by the impact of death or financial hardship, then this
invasion has proven significantly effective in rebooting our way of life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-90161407066258862322020-09-26T15:02:00.000+10:002020-09-26T15:02:03.981+10:00Men's rights from a woman's perspective.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiuxovLgDlkHuCSaLxTr5v-wIR5QGjfDppXaQYClV_bXEniIx1mx_UKkgqlDv8WBWj4Y9ZwdloNWge0sR6e1uO9UOtmynGD6ZMlRXWc6-uYfNOSuhNcP_Hcd1KBcPHa_Sq9euHPGbQalA/s800/me+and+men_resize.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqiuxovLgDlkHuCSaLxTr5v-wIR5QGjfDppXaQYClV_bXEniIx1mx_UKkgqlDv8WBWj4Y9ZwdloNWge0sR6e1uO9UOtmynGD6ZMlRXWc6-uYfNOSuhNcP_Hcd1KBcPHa_Sq9euHPGbQalA/s320/me+and+men_resize.png" width="320" /></a></div>Men’s rights from a woman’s perspective ... well ... this
depends entirely on which woman you ask, right?<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you ask a mother about her son, then perhaps his rights
as a young boy don’t translate to reality in a situation where being young
implies lack of ability and developed intelligence. But, if several years go by
and that same boy becomes a man, makes a life for himself and is sensible 90%
of the time, then perhaps a mother would view her son’s rights as legitimate.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you’re a scorned woman with a rocky past with men, then
any right that a man might have may feel like a huge loss or a decline in
women’s liberation. The scars of a personal past may impact on what you may now
feel a man actually has a right to say or do. This can lead to bias and unfair
categorisation of men in general.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A wife’s perspective on the rights of her husband may be
forged through time and incidence. For example, that 100cm television he bought
with the electricity money or the day he forgot half the groceries and
purchased a slab of beer instead may in fact limit the rights of a husband in a
wife’s mind. On the other hand, trust and loyalty can walk hand-in-hand where
rights are thought equal as division of jobs, child-rearing and housework
become fair and equitable.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the end, no matter a woman’s role in a man’s life; be it
wife, friend, sister, stranger, lover ... the rights of another human being
should never be stifled, ignored or eliminated because of the bias of the past,
present or possibility of the future. Men’s rights are just as valid and
relevant as any woman. No <i>one</i> individual should define what another
human being is capable of or entitled to ... that’s just not right.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-49832463127054138912020-09-20T13:03:00.002+10:002020-09-20T13:03:40.193+10:00Are secrets important?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaW_aZ46EP5ML01fDMYeGW70T1mIb_v2W_ys02H6ZSMtKk84trQTjjdEzYp9-dNDWMuhW1uAfw_0WPsj6ZB25w2ZC62Gnjoszpc2ZNbg4QDcRSVN3MeMMn9aq-ReUw87KInaXXcf637l7p/s1024/secrets3.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="816" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaW_aZ46EP5ML01fDMYeGW70T1mIb_v2W_ys02H6ZSMtKk84trQTjjdEzYp9-dNDWMuhW1uAfw_0WPsj6ZB25w2ZC62Gnjoszpc2ZNbg4QDcRSVN3MeMMn9aq-ReUw87KInaXXcf637l7p/s320/secrets3.png" /></a></div>I don’t think that there’s a soul on the planet that can admit to telling
the truth 100% of the time. But whether or not you tell the truth or constantly
lie is not in question. The question is: Are secrets important?<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>I don’t think there is a right or wrong answer to this. A secret can hide a
million bad things, prevent drama, create drama, but it can also protect. So,
are secrets important? The word important denotes vital or even necessary, but
a secret is just something you don’t say out loud. The truth is, would a secret
ever really bother you if you never even heard it?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Hmm, something to ponder.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>I think secrets are somewhat healthy and normal. No one ever truly reveals
every single part of themselves and no one is ever that vulnerable. A secret
doesn’t have to be a way to shut others out, protect the nation’s interests or
be used in spiteful circumstances. Sometimes a secret can be to keep a surprise
from a loved one, it can be that whisper of loving emotion that you’re not
quite ready to admit or the white lie you may say to uphold another’s mental
health.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Secrets aren’t important or necessary, they’re simply a part of human
nature, a chance to hide what we don’t yet want known. Does that make them
important? Well, I think that’s up to the individual to decide.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Kristy😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-1996355993698503452020-09-12T10:09:00.003+10:002020-09-12T10:10:10.424+10:00Anything is possible. Or is it?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSns54_uOVGTfF1pjMR70KdADgOL-uLuXufaHNq6b4VDmqmL65mOtwvB5BjeyyFnnYx5R6OP7ugkQvQnjML-BABbSYgt5roAO6Lwd-1pFu2M7-Y6yOiOvtWkA5_OL_jV1aVXZyZuRRYhGM/s281/cliff.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSns54_uOVGTfF1pjMR70KdADgOL-uLuXufaHNq6b4VDmqmL65mOtwvB5BjeyyFnnYx5R6OP7ugkQvQnjML-BABbSYgt5roAO6Lwd-1pFu2M7-Y6yOiOvtWkA5_OL_jV1aVXZyZuRRYhGM/s0/cliff.jpg" /></a></div>Most people love a good scapegoat or excuse don’t they? It gives those
without drive a reason to say that something might not be possible. They can
then hinge their lack of accomplishment on some invented reason as to why a
goal simply cannot be met. I’m certainly no stranger to this, I constantly
procrastinate and invent excuses as to why I can’t do something.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>But does this mean that anything isn’t in fact possible? Hell no. It just
means I’m lazy - Hella lazy sometimes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Anything is possible if you decide that it’s a goal worth attaining. Want to
lose weight? Go on a diet and start exercising more. Want to get a degree? Work
your ass off, study and apply yourself. Want to buy a new car? Save up and get
the damn Ferrari. Want to learn to dance? Enrol in a class and practice. You
get my point, right?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Any goal is possible – possible meaning ‘<i>able to be done or achieved</i>’
– but only with the application of dedication and drive. So, although there
might be some things that aren’t realistically possible to achieve such as
visiting the moon or becoming a porn star, that doesn’t mean the journey to TRY
and POSSIBLY attain those goals isn’t worth the effort.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Holding hope in the face of adversity builds strength of character. But
don’t ever say that something isn’t possible. Anything is possible with the
right attitude and productivity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-18054251272689634702020-09-05T11:10:00.002+10:002020-09-05T11:10:44.448+10:00Alone, lonely or just being alone<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Xdgu0eJIDOvMnoSi5ivFE8E04UOsS8ZX59_31fcMe1rPIKR4YM9y-tjDaJ8jiQf5Lt5C4WnjV5CRgy6z4STFJC83OZGPznXSMj7jmWCEdBhq07YGnSYpxw8vWMzK397anWxZzfRlmUFU/s275/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Xdgu0eJIDOvMnoSi5ivFE8E04UOsS8ZX59_31fcMe1rPIKR4YM9y-tjDaJ8jiQf5Lt5C4WnjV5CRgy6z4STFJC83OZGPznXSMj7jmWCEdBhq07YGnSYpxw8vWMzK397anWxZzfRlmUFU/s0/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />Since the Covid pandemic hit the globe, the act of being alone or feeling
lonely has come under the spotlight. Although every Country’s restrictions may
differ, here in Australia we’ve dabbled in social distancing and full isolation
in an effort to stop the curve. Whether these safety measures are proving
successful or not, being alone has become a part of everyday life for some.<p></p><p>Isolation has forged new avenues of creativity in the form of communication,
causing many to flourish in business, professionally and personally. Can we
honestly call ourselves lonely with greater access to community and audience
than ever before? What if you’re a bumbling idiot regarding technology or don’t
have access to the web? Should we not consider this minority group cut off from
everyone at risk of being lonely, not just alone?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>We need to remember that we didn’t always have technology. We used to
communicate via phone or drop in on our neighbours and friends. And, in this
time of social distancing, it only takes a second to wave at the creeper across
the street or write a letter to the old woman with no family in a nursing home.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Covid shouldn’t have made us better at making money and utilising
technology. It should have made us humble and more considerate of those around
us.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Kristy 😀 </span></div></div>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-18660809199315289342020-08-29T13:06:00.002+10:002020-08-29T13:06:59.381+10:00I love listening to ...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAeV_tWsPFqZVW6dpRVrd6Nvipd_0E42cFLKF7W6ZwUqpfom_iehNBmuIlMYgEnrv-VLUwqhIA2JtPi_eu3sqiJGUX-44wk0E1kiIIRTMa3zqbHRz-wPPk6TFk3FhAMAm3Y2zpKXHFyQh/s275/deep-listening_resize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAeV_tWsPFqZVW6dpRVrd6Nvipd_0E42cFLKF7W6ZwUqpfom_iehNBmuIlMYgEnrv-VLUwqhIA2JtPi_eu3sqiJGUX-44wk0E1kiIIRTMa3zqbHRz-wPPk6TFk3FhAMAm3Y2zpKXHFyQh/s0/deep-listening_resize.jpg" /></a></div><br />It’s a bit open-ended, isn’t it? You can love listening to a whole host of
things; Your favourite song, the sound of someone else cooking dinner, rain
landing on arid earth or the gunfire crack of a bullet aimed directly at your
pesky ex.</span></div><p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Whoops, just kidding, but there are so many things that you can enjoy
listening to. As humans, we truly are blessed to be open to the sounds of
nature, music, conversation and laughter. But, for the purpose of this blog,
let’s touch on my favourite sounds so you can get to know a little more about
me ... Kristy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>My favourite song to bliss out to would have to be Etta James’s ‘<i>At Last</i>’.
Whenever I hear this song, everything is a-okay in the world no matter what.
Billy Joel’s ‘<i>Uptown Girl</i>’ has always made me want to mop the floor and
Marvin Gaye’s ‘<i>Sexual Healing</i>’ just makes my head bop like a dashboard
hula girl.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>My favourite way to wake up each day is to hear the sounds of the birds
chirping outside our window and hopefully the toilet flushing so I know hubby’s
getting up to feed the baby (wishful thinking on my part there). I also love
the sound of the kettle boiling, knowing that a hot cup of tea is headed my way.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>I love the sound the rain makes as it comes across the mountains and pelts
down upon the asphalt outside. I love the sound my hubby makes when he snores
and the newborn gurgles from the cot at the end of our bed. I love the sound of
my family’s successes and the happy chatter of friends. In fact, it’s becoming
glaringly obvious that I enjoy listening to a lot of things and thus I’m
grateful that I can.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>What do you enjoy listening to?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😀</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-42078219000415478022020-08-22T10:44:00.003+10:002020-08-22T10:47:05.990+10:00What no one tells you about Pregnancy <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzryr5ikQu3LIXUELmUsvIUhpxZhLoacXzAKTf1OgUNjaWVQX3sXIKv3iMj7tzLeq0jAULjU6FELNppymVAmKoKaC7Ws3n0ZZU_bFW-30u1vCkR1vfC4yORX2I5iO7r429lB9dIa1UC8QA/s225/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzryr5ikQu3LIXUELmUsvIUhpxZhLoacXzAKTf1OgUNjaWVQX3sXIKv3iMj7tzLeq0jAULjU6FELNppymVAmKoKaC7Ws3n0ZZU_bFW-30u1vCkR1vfC4yORX2I5iO7r429lB9dIa1UC8QA/s0/images.jpg" /></a></div>I couldn’t help but dabble in this subject matter for the blog. I gave birth
myself just over three months ago and everything is still fresh and raw in my
mind. Plus, my latest novel (currently in the editing process) is a
continuation from 100 Days of Happiness and a delightfully honest foray into
pregnancy, birth and all that shite no one ever tells you about. So, I would
say this topic is epically timed.<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>What no one ever tells you about pregnancy is that there’s only a
fifty-fifty chance you’re going to love every second of it or wish you’d
castrated your partner before his super sperm had done its job. Me being the
latter, I’d felt that pregnancy was like being part of a hostage situation. No
one tells you that you’ll lose the real-estate on your bladder and have to move
full-time onto the porcelain bus and no one tells you that the first three
months you’re shelling out cash for endless tests just to make sure you have a
healthy human instead of a mini ape growing inside you.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>What else does no one tell you? That your favourite Cuppa Joe may suddenly
be removed from palatable substances you used to consume, your farts could end
the world and every single day is a ‘fat day’ ladies. I should go on to mention
that also, no one ever tells you how much labour will actually hurt. Imagine a
Mack track ramming head first into a sewerage pipe and busting through the
other end. Do you think there’s any damage after that? Sure, there’s stitches,
blood, a giant gaping hole for future sexual exploits and probably a case of
your insides trying to escape through your cervix. Nice, huh?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>But on a lighter note, what no one can ever explain or tell you about
pregnancy is how much you will love that little stow-away the second you lay
eyes on him. And, despite all of the reasons mentioned above to book a full
hysterectomy now, every single second of trauma will be worth it. <o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Unless of course the little bastard screams incessantly and never lets you
sleep ...<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Kristy 😃<o:p></o:p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-1610395403105196852020-08-15T16:15:00.000+10:002020-08-15T16:15:04.550+10:00My First Date<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcMDRFoSFjh9l-j9Gy1PBK5GNzNv2S52UYOMMnVCSiQsSJUjvhCQrQqo5uPwsSB3a8Bo9SHSymStIs3B3_4tTuoYBgtAja4WcFa_Q-Hj2X9LEQFph4lrololoUMzDjD67wqjYHc1Boz4w/s510/first-date-510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcMDRFoSFjh9l-j9Gy1PBK5GNzNv2S52UYOMMnVCSiQsSJUjvhCQrQqo5uPwsSB3a8Bo9SHSymStIs3B3_4tTuoYBgtAja4WcFa_Q-Hj2X9LEQFph4lrololoUMzDjD67wqjYHc1Boz4w/s0/first-date-510.jpg" /></a></div>For any of you that have read my illustrious book ‘<i>100 Days of Happiness</i>’,
you’ll know I’ve had quite a few dates in my time. My hubby still calls me a
dirty whore in jest, but the truth is, it’s like buying ice-cream isn’t it? You
don’t know exactly what you want until you’ve sampled at least a few of the, right?<p></p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Right.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>So, I can’t exactly talk about ‘<i>My First Date</i>’ since I just mentioned
there’s been a few. What I can talk about, is the varied array that have
occurred and the reasons why a first date doesn’t necessarily equate to a
memorable experience, but rather, a reason to move forward, push the eject
button or evacuate completely.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>My very first date occurred when I was eleven years old. We’d gone to the
movies with his family and mine as a part of a charity event and consequently
been watched by said parents incessantly. I think we may have touched fingers
at some point, but that was it. Exciting stuff, right? Definitely a reason to
evacuate completely.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>For ‘<i>First Date</i>’ number two, I would have been sixteen. This was the
prelude to my first marriage and my then husband-to-be. I should have pushed
the eject button then and there considering he showed up wearing all red; red
jeans (I hadn’t known there was such a thing), red joggers and a bloody red
shirt. He looked like a piece of fruit.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Several years on and I was divorced and back on the dating scene. So many
men and so little time, right? Not exactly, but the first dates were thick and
fast and nothing to write home about. Some guys smelt like they had an aversion
to soap. One guy had gnarly toenails, another’s breath smelt like a brewery.
Another thought ‘snot shots’ were a sport, another enjoyed sex with himself
more than me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>The only memorable first date I ever had was with my current hubby. I know
I’m supposed to say that, but it’s the honest-to-God truth. He wasn’t a weirdo,
was and still is extremely intelligent, sometimes funny and he thinks smart,
independent women are a turn on. He was a diamond in the rough to be sure,
especially at my age where the fish in the pond have generally already been
caught.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>So in essence, a first date really doesn’t mean too much. It’s more like a
job interview or a sampling of the pre-referenced ice-cream before buying the
popsicle. It’s a chance to test compatibility and longevity. And, if all else
fails, a chance to have a few minutes of fun! So, crack on with your first
dates and chalk them up to experience, but don’t take them too seriously unless
the flavour sitting in front of you is the one you want to eat for the rest of
your life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Kristy 😀</span>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-15292156667986440652020-08-08T10:38:00.000+10:002020-08-08T10:38:51.548+10:00The Male Guide to Female Communication<p>Okay, so this is a tough one to communicate <i>period</i> because there is no
right or wrong answer to this and certainly no two females on the planet are
exactly alike. Likewise, no couples are the same nor are the males trying to
determine what weird and wonderful things fly through the female brain.</p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>It is safe to say, though, that women do give off signals that are often
missed or completely misinterpreted. For example, when we’re trying something
on and we ask you what you think, we’d actually like you to give us an honest
response. Not, ‘<i>You look like a fat whale in that</i>,’ kind of honest
answer, but the sort that shows you’re actually trying to help us determine
whether or not to buy and or wear the item of clothing in question. If we do
happen to look like Moby Dick, it’s best to control your repulsed fascial
features and simply say, ‘Hmm, I don’t think that’s the right choice, maybe try
... (offering an alternative here is gold).’<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Not so complicated, right?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8VgS2XZNzuDFaTylAMJxH4WIoAEP2x-ZSSYVOgThPNHPHycCcAbYMglWEIKUffHNQ7aFwvnMFUJ-U67KmI3usXtbLQr1K1B0dXk4GNjp8HqJYVwTpba5xHl59MEGw7u_O5R6lZcNpik6/s200/download+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8VgS2XZNzuDFaTylAMJxH4WIoAEP2x-ZSSYVOgThPNHPHycCcAbYMglWEIKUffHNQ7aFwvnMFUJ-U67KmI3usXtbLQr1K1B0dXk4GNjp8HqJYVwTpba5xHl59MEGw7u_O5R6lZcNpik6/s0/download+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>There are about a million other examples of where communication between men
and women break down. Who does the housework and what percentage is fair? Did
she just fake her orgasm? Maybe I shouldn’t have bought that boat with our life
savings without consulting her first. She won’t notice if I start wearing her
lingerie or that I left our kid in the school parking lot for three hours, will
she?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Soooo many situations in which communication can break down. So, the
question is, how can men better understand how to deal with the female psyche?
Well, the truth from my perspective is that you’re completely fucked. Most of
the time we have no idea what we want until we want it, so it’s virtually
impossible. What I can say, though, is that better led communication comes from
knowing the other person in the relationship. What makes them happy? What
pisses them off? If you can find a way to read her body language before the
shit hits the fan, you’re onto a winner.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I’m certainly no relationship expert.
Six years later and my hubby still leaves the wet mat on the bathroom floor and
throws his clothes next to the laundry basket instead of in it. He’s about a
second off getting a crowbar to the face because that’s me communicating
regularly with words regarding exactly what I want, but the truth is, he
chooses not to listen. Thus, a male guide to female communication is a waste of
time if you’re not willing to read the fine print. <o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>We’re all gonna do what we want to do anyway, right?<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<p>Right.<o:p></o:p></p>
<u1:p></u1:p><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Kristy 😀</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-32686969946303193032020-08-02T11:17:00.000+10:002020-08-02T11:17:28.784+10:00How to go from Overwhelmed to Motivated!<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1zSwYzMK7-NfJYPJBIWDcCdPN_W7K0lV81q-9fy0UER6ETQkwm9mpwwShWe7_jzDaVb7jiBAPxP4m8nZ2Cfqb4r_pHL-xeY01Va6n6wBkseWCJGsTVoZRDiGXPT9cICFcelYMsQFVXyA/s450/pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="254" data-original-width="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1zSwYzMK7-NfJYPJBIWDcCdPN_W7K0lV81q-9fy0UER6ETQkwm9mpwwShWe7_jzDaVb7jiBAPxP4m8nZ2Cfqb4r_pHL-xeY01Va6n6wBkseWCJGsTVoZRDiGXPT9cICFcelYMsQFVXyA/s0/pic.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>How to go from Overwhelmed to
motivated? Well, this is a matter true to my heart right now and I implore you
to stick with me on this as opposed to dialling child services.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">My hubby and I recently had a
little boy and although he is the light of our life, joy of the world, beacon
of ... yeah, you get my point, right? We love him, but sometimes we debate
about putting him in a cardboard box and posting him to Alaska.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><font face="Arial, sans-serif">I’m kidding of course, but when
all he does is sleep through the day and stay up all night, it tends to grate
on your sensibilities. So, as you can imagine (since I do the night shift), I
can become incredibly overwhelmed at 2am. With little to no sleep in my pocket,
looking down into the beady eyes of my wide awake infant forces me to find some
sort of motivation not to glue his eyes shut. Yes, we expected this to happen.
Babies can’t sleep all the time, right? I mean they have to poop at 4am and wee
on your nightgown post shower or spew on you right as you put them down for
that seemingly unattainable sleep, but come on ...<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Being overwhelmed is part of
the job description. <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">So how do you get motivated? <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Well, you may think I might be
motivated to push our son under the bed until morning in the hopes I can’t hear
him under there, but on the contrary, I consider the ramifications. No, not
child abuse allegations (although my headspace undoubtedly deserves it
sometimes), but the ramifications of simply not being motivated enough to enjoy
this moment of fleetingness. He won’t stay an infant forever. He will soon
become a toddler and start sleeping through the night, then a young boy who
picks his nose and sniffs his bum. Then of course he’ll be a teenager and I’ll
probably want to kill him all over again.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">The point is, motivation
doesn’t have to be a gimmick or an affirmation to pull you through a task. It
can simply be the idea that you’ll miss just one perfect moment amongst the
clutter of imperfect ones – the reason I keep my eyes open at 2am ... just in
case he smiles.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Kristy </span><font face="Segoe UI Symbol, sans-serif">😊</font></p><br />Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-82408682764444070312020-07-23T11:46:00.002+10:002020-07-23T12:03:11.775+10:00A Love of Reading.<p class="MsoNormal"><span><font color="#f6b26b"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></font></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2zIKUJuuFLRPjBs1KNzsjExPdt6Vb_UUVhB-3HTaMy_Fn_uh_kwmB5SWGLbJyv8thUeSberI1Fp3yWrDWs5QKerZ2V81U0u32q0O42l6zVOKHrtbtEhMRK-GgjcNO0puiNysK6dQ3fMX/s274/book+picture.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font color="#f6b26b"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2zIKUJuuFLRPjBs1KNzsjExPdt6Vb_UUVhB-3HTaMy_Fn_uh_kwmB5SWGLbJyv8thUeSberI1Fp3yWrDWs5QKerZ2V81U0u32q0O42l6zVOKHrtbtEhMRK-GgjcNO0puiNysK6dQ3fMX/s0/book+picture.jpg" /></font></a></div><font color="#f6b26b"><div><font color="#f6b26b">My love of reading started when I was a young child, I was read to often. Not only that, my brother and I were encouraged </font>to read as much
as possible, we might not have had all that we wanted, but books were plentiful. </div><o:p></o:p></font><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font color="#f6b26b">However, the very best stories were those told to us by our
Nana. She would tell us the most captivating stories from her head, not a book…imagine
pinching yourself to stay awake just to hear more, but eventually succumbing to
sleep with visions of heroes and heroines. Our stays with our Nana were
memorable and long lasting and her ability to weave magic into each of her
stories is something that I have tried to pass onto my children. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font color="#f6b26b">I guess depending upon your personal preference, fiction or
non-fiction can either whisk you away to exciting places with your imagination
or tantalise and stimulate your synapses mentally. The point is, are we
encouraging our young ones and others to read enough to keep the brain matter
growing? There are some book lovers who are, but it is not enough. It seems
that people read less now and prefer instead to watch TV or play on their
phones.<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font color="#f6b26b">There are so many benefits to reading, it can develop our
minds, help our children with language skills and a good book can open up
dimensions of thoughts as you try to connect events, emotions and experiences
of the characters that you read. The
tragedy today, is that we have a huge number of Australians that lack the
necessary literacy skills they need to function in life and work. Many young
people that I have spoken to cannot speak properly, they don’t read, they
cannot string a sentence together and worse still, some cannot read.<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font color="#f6b26b">What is the matter with us? Our children are born ready to
learn; a wonderful opportunity exists for parents today to better equip their kids
before they enter their school years. Read, teach and encourage a love of
books, you will be guaranteeing them success for their future, don’t make them
struggle in an already difficult world.<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<span style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><font color="#f6b26b">Stephanie</font></span>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-55826350696505483132020-07-06T11:54:00.004+10:002020-07-06T11:54:51.194+10:00Baby Shower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhEIVFN4lg7mpjSB0fbU21yTzeD42-DN2NEi18nMUlk17ZXUsmhTjq0Bgtzluohi33mwBKUhyphenhyphenVrG1RdLprOoB3-CU-OHjsZ8R36_b1Xea6ftlE_hFoyMz7dQKIgnSedxeVEvWwoZ0_e7f/s1600/Pic+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhEIVFN4lg7mpjSB0fbU21yTzeD42-DN2NEi18nMUlk17ZXUsmhTjq0Bgtzluohi33mwBKUhyphenhyphenVrG1RdLprOoB3-CU-OHjsZ8R36_b1Xea6ftlE_hFoyMz7dQKIgnSedxeVEvWwoZ0_e7f/s320/Pic+2.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">Baby Shower</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">Today was supposed to be our little one’s baby shower. I was supposed to have my son
tucked away safely inside while devouring tasty treats and sipping
non-alcoholic beverages with friends and family.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></i>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">Instead, were cuddling our son close to our chests in the
neonatal ICU, merely grateful he’s alive and doing better after being born nine
weeks premature.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">At first I was disappointed that this little milestone
celebration had been cancelled, not only due to Covid19 but also because of
Archibald’s early arrival. But then I realised, as I kissed his little face and
breathed in the smell of his baby skin, how lucky we are to have this time with
him instead.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">I guess I don’t have a moral to the story or some poignant
words of wisdom, but I can say that despite circumstances being what they are,
I couldn’t be happier to be curled up on an armchair with my adoring husband
and baby, spending quality time together as a family.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">How are you spending your day? </span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-43219248625749314412020-06-03T11:32:00.010+10:002020-06-03T11:42:40.124+10:00Introducing: <div style="text-align: left;"> <i><font color="#f7cb4d" size="4"><b>Archibald Thomas Frederick Muddock </b></font></i> </div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" face="georgia" size="2"><i>Shaun and I would like to finally announce the birth of our son: Archibald Thomas Frederick Muddock, born May 16th at 5:30 am, weighing 1.8kg and born 9 weeks premature.</i></font></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" face="georgia" size="2"><i><br /></i></font></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" face="georgia" size="2"><i>Little Archie has had quite the ordeal so far. He was whisked away from Shaun and I only seconds after he was born and transported straight to the Neonatal ICU. In the last 5 days, he's been intubated, placed on CPAP, moved to High Flow and now he can finally breathe on his own with a little help from some caffeine.</i></font></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" face="georgia" size="2"><i><br /></i></font></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" face="georgia" size="2"><i>He has an umbilical line that gives him fluids and antibiotics and feeding tube inserted straight into his little tummy through his belly button.</i></font></div><div><font color="#f57c00" face="georgia" size="4"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDwn1FWybazQcPHD4RyYYQ2Gz5CZ4nIcomaG2Byo022IM7vsMWjLfJrtxQGlVl8QuoMRE0dmoOrp-Qd7FShLSQ7V3uK7mmgC2UrWU4UZlAgm-e2M9nZiw_Khm0h23acWRdYgZV9k0gCHS//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDwn1FWybazQcPHD4RyYYQ2Gz5CZ4nIcomaG2Byo022IM7vsMWjLfJrtxQGlVl8QuoMRE0dmoOrp-Qd7FShLSQ7V3uK7mmgC2UrWU4UZlAgm-e2M9nZiw_Khm0h23acWRdYgZV9k0gCHS/s320/Pic+2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></font></div><div><i style="color: #f7cb4d; font-family: georgia; font-size: small;">Shaun and I wanted you all to know that we appreciate every single ounce of love and support, but hope that you understand that at this moment in time, while Archie is still fighting to survive, that we can't focus on much more than him.</i></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" size="2"><i><font face="georgia"><br /></font></i></font></div><div><font color="#f7cb4d" size="2"><i><font face="georgia">Naturally we want to see our family and friends, but if we have a spare second, we just want to be with our son. We hope you all understand and appreciate how much we already love and need our little boy to be safe and sound before we worry about ourselves.</font><br /></i></font><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-4032668192912559842020-04-28T17:30:00.001+10:002020-04-28T17:31:23.065+10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2z_0T_I8RG6TtU5Tnv8XaXbtPILKhzqp8eXju17rycgXBekzjAOmtlVywWyyyqikfzFwexbE3hinwmWlUB61gV3KELaIXOqvWyrXXCFKmSAJn4KEI1A_HZ2TOH6YwQy9D9S02bBT6ZwZq/s1600/The+Delivered+Front+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="396" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2z_0T_I8RG6TtU5Tnv8XaXbtPILKhzqp8eXju17rycgXBekzjAOmtlVywWyyyqikfzFwexbE3hinwmWlUB61gV3KELaIXOqvWyrXXCFKmSAJn4KEI1A_HZ2TOH6YwQy9D9S02bBT6ZwZq/s320/The+Delivered+Front+Cover.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">Hi
everyone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">It’s
finally here … THE DELIVERED!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">The
Delivered is the final novel in the series “The Hunted”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">If
you are interested in the paperback version, please copy this link:
amzn.to/2SPnc5p and paste it into the address bar in your Internet browser.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">If
you are interest in the eBook version, then copy this link as above:
amzn.to/2UWnTwz<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">I
promise this delivers an exciting conclusion to this marvellous series. A
little taste of what to expect within the book…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">Life is a
swift lesson, one that Elena Manory has finally begun to understand and one
that she willingly gave up in the name of love. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="color: #ffd966;">She’s now
in Purgatory, confronted by the demons of her past and the possibilities of her
future, forced to choose between her soul mate and a twisted version of the
life she has left behind. But the world of her past has been ravaged by war,
the Vampires and werewolves forming an unlikely alliance in the face of so much
adversity. Too much has changed and Elena is not only uncertain of herself, but
the expectations of others and the role they expect her to play.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #ffd966;"> Will Elena stand by her decision, follow her
heart and spend eternity in the arms of the one she loves? Or will she fall
back to earth, stand by her brother’s side and win the ultimate battle between
a life worth living and a life worth changing? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">Don’t miss the opportunity of obtaining this book, you won’t be
disappointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Enjoy
– Stephanie</span></span></div>
Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-23774901357161253672019-07-13T11:53:00.004+10:002019-07-13T11:53:50.768+10:00Extend Yourself to Others<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVvX9h7e7QabhMTtLqdWMpjhaIQLH-lWKjl7Wc0Rth6a1gE3DBhSNe64wYN9wmpHOSQ_-EvM3zOoX6yF6iA9YHAg5K2OSvPD6j7LE9baJjM6Vc9-PX8GhFxJ8chtrOcE7GbPQ0sRjlN55/s1600/if-we-all-do-one-random-act-of-kindness-daily-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVvX9h7e7QabhMTtLqdWMpjhaIQLH-lWKjl7Wc0Rth6a1gE3DBhSNe64wYN9wmpHOSQ_-EvM3zOoX6yF6iA9YHAg5K2OSvPD6j7LE9baJjM6Vc9-PX8GhFxJ8chtrOcE7GbPQ0sRjlN55/s320/if-we-all-do-one-random-act-of-kindness-daily-21.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Watch the
news, read about the latest terrorist attacks and political shit storm and you
start to think do I really want to know these things? It is distressing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Would I rather
bury my head in the sand and hope it goes away? It would be simpler, or is it?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">So many of us
live these sheltered lives, ‘the proverbial bubble of safeness.’ We are able to
see out, secure in our dome of reasoning and self-righteousness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Living in our
own little realm is not going to make all that is happening in the world simply
disappear; in fact distancing ourselves can create more problems.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">So instead of
focussing upon the negatives of our society and keeping ourselves insular from
everyone else, let us start small….help those around you. It might be something as simple as opening a
door for a stranger to actively listening when someone is in pain and needs a
friend who will stop and pay attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Being kind and
caring towards others can be contagious and may quickly inspire those around us
to do the same. Sometimes it comes down to us! If we do not as individuals,
step forward and set in motion the kindness towards others, then who will. Let
us create a ripple and watch it swell into waves of benevolence. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;"><i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;">“How lovely to think that no one need
wait a moment. We can start now, start
slowly, changing the world. How lovely that everyone, great and small, can make
a contribution toward introducing justice straightway. And you can always,
always give something, even if it is only kindness!” Anne Frank</span></i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Stephanie</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-47236491598319491112019-06-28T11:04:00.001+10:002019-06-28T11:04:43.462+10:00Bullying is so declasse <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHSBg1-wgn4VAqxZvXUefU-SvQTCzx6TZEXpCE18gn7jASjfgi11ntoRVUpF-d7c_vugeXo1iZoOsXfpz4tLd2iFSMesb_IsU2d99vklQLN_IXa4qlcTvyy9ZUNX058ZoDPhX56tWJ8mn/s1600/forgiven-bully.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHSBg1-wgn4VAqxZvXUefU-SvQTCzx6TZEXpCE18gn7jASjfgi11ntoRVUpF-d7c_vugeXo1iZoOsXfpz4tLd2iFSMesb_IsU2d99vklQLN_IXa4qlcTvyy9ZUNX058ZoDPhX56tWJ8mn/s1600/forgiven-bully.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><span style="color: #ffd966;">Bullying is about repeated behaviour by someone who has power or control over someone else! <br /><br />Power! Well, if you are going to allow someone to have a negative influence over the way you think, feel or behave, then you are giving them power over your life. The most important thing that I personally feel is that you need to set boundaries. To understand this, let us apply the old adage ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ yes, this normally applies to relationships; however, familiarity is just that---someone who has a deep knowledge about ourselves. We could therefore make sure that a) you don’t allow someone to get to physically close b) don’t discuss everything of a personal nature about yourself and c) make sure you protect yourself emotionally i.e. try not to express how you are feeling. <br /><br />There are so many types of bullying and the types of bullying that happens is not just confined to a kids playground, it happens all the time with adults as well. Physical bullying – intentional bumping, hitting, spitting etc. Body language – gestures and dirty looks. Verbal bullying, probably one of the worst as it can damage our inner child badly – teasing, name calling, telling stores that are not correct. I could go on citing many more examples, sadly there are numerous. <br /><br />The bullied have the power to stop the cycle! <br /><br />It has been my experience that most bullies have been bullied themselves, they may have watched family members being bullied, a learned skill. In addition, I believe that most times that bullying occurs is usually when no one is around who may be able to help, or a ‘perceived popular individual’ may have picked on you and therefore accepted by their peers. It is tough, emotionally heartbreaking and painful and very embarrassing. <br /><br />However, we cannot and do not know what a bully is experiencing. Are they struggling, are they having a hard time at home, at school or work. It is time to break the cycle, tap into empathy and compassion, and shatter this seed of torment of what is happening in our society. <br /><br />If you are the victim, be as strong as you can, be brave, help others by breaking the cycle, have the strength to walk away with your head held high – you will become a prime example of not accepting the term bullying and in the process, you may just help the bullier. <br /><br />I speak from experience as do a number of readers. I was bullied at school; however, the most difficult thing I did was to forgive. Nevertheless, it enabled me to take back the power I gave away in the first place. <br /><br />Stephanie </span>Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-89283156272366060642019-06-06T13:46:00.000+10:002019-06-06T13:46:17.931+10:00When the Light Begins to Fade...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvpnbbVwlCOpeReNlvfNL7C9HLbA217159f5Pqi2wYiG1FDGFE-XzeQIEsKK_YYBx8XSyx9j9k-VyKPb3xFdWmZdptcrFXgKFn0aHs73FwNEQ3tXBcQghJmDTlpJoRZJHEFd6cxUeepDE5/s1600/istockphoto-817147678-612x612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvpnbbVwlCOpeReNlvfNL7C9HLbA217159f5Pqi2wYiG1FDGFE-XzeQIEsKK_YYBx8XSyx9j9k-VyKPb3xFdWmZdptcrFXgKFn0aHs73FwNEQ3tXBcQghJmDTlpJoRZJHEFd6cxUeepDE5/s320/istockphoto-817147678-612x612.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">Why is it we have to go through pain in order to learn
anything? Why is it that when we learn something from anguish, we have to learn
something else to justify what we have just learned? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">Losing a loved one or having a horrible fight can give you
pain, terrible pain. Some say that this pain or heartache if you like is real, crippling,
and intense; it can make you lose your breath. Such physical pain that you feel
you cannot move or emotional pain which we store away in our subconscious only
to be confronted by it when we least want or expect it. Personally, I think
emotional pain can be more crippling. Think about it, every emotional feeling
or thought or painful sensation we experience as an individual is as a direct result
of messages from our brains. Are we more in control than we think? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">How many times have we heard “You don’t ever know what you
have had until you have lost it?” Be mindful, this particular lesson is not
always accurate; after all, we often learn what we choose to interpret. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">Confusion is an important component of our emotional
well-being – I was having an argument with my boss and his responses to me were
quite nasty. I was hurt, I was angry and I felt betrayed, why was it necessary
for him to be so rude? Alternatively, was I mixing up my confusion and anger
with an emotional response? When I thought about it more, I took a deep breath
and stated the best possible solution to his issue. Once I had done this, I
felt better. I had taken the emotional element, which was my anger and confusion
away from the issue and made a decisive response. I walked away with confidence.
My boss came after me with thanks and appreciation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">Drama makes a relationship exciting and intriguing and
therefore subject to confusion, add empathy, compassion or just downright pity
and you have all the components of love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Being aware that love is just a tumult of emotions is wise and any
turmoil or conflict in any relationship that makes couples appear vulnerable or
victimised may become a shared and stimulating experience that further binds
you together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">So when you feel that the light begins to fade take the time
to question your emotional state. After all our self-awareness requires that,
we look at ourselves objectively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: inherit;">Stephanie</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3082307903571137712.post-8294218879305439172019-05-18T12:03:00.001+10:002019-05-18T12:03:37.777+10:00Old is The New Young<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6-GH2om5_a5CoamdJnGmEuVHFT6oZzFgL-uqPaWeCWUab6e13OR8Ajvq8aWqz2ZWW6VTXbUrG1ExY5JfLUBj07uSBrp2Chb27Stok6sJutWcBsQldCX54NKpzby6CcuNRI3hiTv54b23/s1600/1140-workplace-age-discrimination.imgcache.rev6ded5b053b5dcd945dc7b5d10b3ded57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="1140" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6-GH2om5_a5CoamdJnGmEuVHFT6oZzFgL-uqPaWeCWUab6e13OR8Ajvq8aWqz2ZWW6VTXbUrG1ExY5JfLUBj07uSBrp2Chb27Stok6sJutWcBsQldCX54NKpzby6CcuNRI3hiTv54b23/s320/1140-workplace-age-discrimination.imgcache.rev6ded5b053b5dcd945dc7b5d10b3ded57.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #ffd966;">Have you read all the proverbial crap that supposedly
supports older individuals back into the workplace? Well platitudes and
examples of pros and cons are not enough without genuine meaning if you write
them. It simply is not true! Companies do not want older workers because
society has been dumbed down to think that the oldies are addled, befuddled and
bygones.</span><br />
<span style="color: #ffd966;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #ffd966;">Older people can offer wisdom, skills, and an ability to
listen and assimilate information well. Everyone undergoes training in a job,
why have companies been brainwashed into assuming that oldies are too old to learn
technology, and no, not everyone is ready to retire because the Government
states they have to, or they can no longer get work because they are too old. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In addition, another unfathomable thing, they
are usually not deaf or dumb. Why is it then that most of Gen X & Y automatically
raise their supercilious voices and act as if they are speaking to a moron? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">Older people are more likely to stick around longer, they
are more likely to be happy with the position they have been offered – they are
no longer in the business of cutting another’s throat or stabbing someone in
the back to get to the top. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">Even in old age, it turns out, our brains have more
plasticity to adapt and learn. In short, it turns out that old dogs can learn
new tricks. Older people respect and appreciate education more than perhaps the
Gen X & Y – certainly, it is too soon to see how Gen Z will go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">Now if the above does not prompt you to re-think your stance
on the golden oldies, and if money is your bag, then think of it this way if
you brought back in older workers to your companies, then it could return $78
billion a year to the economy. Just saying!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">It just takes one intelligent, proactive individual in a
position of strength or power to make changes that will improve the life of a
golden oldie, increased appreciation between the generations and in the process
improve our economy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffd966;">Stephanie<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Kristy Berridgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15775406762184771838noreply@blogger.com0