Um…. as the prude mother of a 15 year old girl, I’m afraid I can’t offer Gigantor anything to poke, either. But TGP is missing out big time. He could have hung out at Knockers with LK in their monkey onesies.
Hehehe. To be fair, it’s Gigantor who prefers to stay on the Coast. TGP would probably come with. But then he’d turn my lovely alone time into a tour of all the anime shops the metropolis has to offer.
If he hears about a monkey onesie convention he’ll be straight down!
I’m not sure there’ll be room for that in your back yard if you decide to go with the pool.
Which reminds me, I told the Bloke you were considering summer splash-down & he shuddered & said ‘Doesn’t MM have Tea-Trees?’ His point being that the pool plastic will end up with some rust-coloured stains that could make it look a bit Yorkshire Ripper does Clark Rubber.
After how abominably hot it was here yesterday, my vote goes once again for the AC.
Pool maintenance, ick.
We’ve got a couple of days coming up with 30 forecast but I’ll believe it when I feel it. 14 now, feels like 12 with the cold breeze and all. Looking at some destruction here. Thinking of chopping up the old and unsafe in-ground trampoline before Hamish gets at it. No instincts for self-preservation that boy.
The trampoline would leave a large deep hole, lined with rock. Not sure whether to make a bomb shelter or slightly sunken garden.
Yes, Gigantor also put the kibosh on the pool for the same reason. i don;t like air-con, I get a bit claustrophobic if everything is shut up. I’ll have to continue with my current regimen of moaning and sarong wearing.
Speaking of moaning,. after the huge storm yesterday we were blacked out for 7 hours! No fan! Could not open the freezer to remove Zooper Doopers! Had to argue with Gigantor instead of watching a DVD! It was inhuman.
That is just barbaric, MM.
You’re making me doubly grateful for the underground power that we have up here. I’ve been told by the long-term residents that the power hasn’t gone out the entire time they’ve been up here…I tell you what, as much as I’d love to move further south into a heavily tree-ed area, I don’t like to think of going 7 hours on a day like yesterday without power. You must feel like a rung out tea-towel, today.
I dropped off baked goods at the Tally school fete yesterday around 9am and it was already building up to be a hideously hot day. I’m so glad I wasn’t one of the volunteers under those tents, yikes.
And that reminds me – I baked ginger biscuits on Saturday afternoon & for the first time ever, I discovered what it was to have humidity get into the biscuits.
I suppose we are 94+m above sea level so essentially we are in the clouds, when it rains.
I had to put the biscuits aside until the next day & then shove them onto a tray in a 150C oven for 7 minutes to crispy them up again.
Lesson learned. Stoopid hoomidity making my biscuits soggy.
As much as I’ve bitched about Brisbane, that never happened to me in all my years of baking back there.
First Tuesday of the month, but the December one is essentially a Xmas party.
It was nice to be able to trot into the school with my enormous bundle of baked goods & say ‘Oh hello, no I’m not a mum, I’m with the local CWA & as I have way too much time on my hands I thought I’d bake for you.’
It was funny, they’d all been far too busy to pay any attention to me but the minute I said ‘CWA lady’ they reacted like I’d said ‘Santa has brought you cocaine & Tim Tams’ & they gathered round to see what was in the bundle.
It was good fun but far to hot to hang around the fete for too long.
We drove down to Kingscliff for lunch & to see the boystown Xmas raffle.
Very nicely done, we do love to sticky-beak at the arky-tectya.
I forced the Boss to take me and the kidlets to the Food Truck Festival. Mmm…. very impressive. Until, of course, the Teenie and the Boss started arguing. Then things got unpleasant. This happens every time we have a family outing, lately. We have one more outing lined up (the Boss has volunteered to direct traffic in the parking lot so we can’t cancel), and then we’re not going to anything as a family ever again. It’s not worth the drama.
Sandy etc went to the Food Truck thingy but we just went to the Farmer’s Market & home. Thought it would be packed but she said it was great. Lots of yummy foods. PB is here and Lyn is Winnie and I’m Eeyore. Typical. All right for some I suppose but nobody cares about a poor old donkey…
Hehehehe. Nice one, MM.
The best comment on it I’ve seen thus far on twitter is to the effect that Strange women lying about in ponds distributing swords is starting to look a whole lot better as a system for organising government.
If you need more guinea pigs, just say the word.
And yes to expense – I went to the dentist today, $230 to have my fangs scoured and ajaxed & then I had to buy new bras, because the old ones had all gone bad, seemingly overnight.
Sometimes they go bad…no-one knows why.
Hehehe. Transcript of last night, as I was attempting to avert another knife fight.
Me: Stop it. I’ve had enough knife fights.
Gigantor: Mum, how many knives do I have?
Me; i dunno. For fishing and camping … 3, 4?
G: Yes. And how many times have I stabbed TGP?
G: Yes. And how many knives does TGP have?
G; And how many times has he stabbed me?
Me: Once. Are you saying I need to get TGP more knives?
When they ask what’s for dinner, I declare “Roast breast of pheasant under glass, Paté de foie gras, and Broiled peacocks tongues”. Not surprisingly, they rarely ask any more. As for the tiara, for years that has been my stock standard response whenever he asks what I want for my birthday. He has twice presented me with cheap plastic toy ones. Both of them were so flimsy, they would have shattered to pieces if he had shoved them where I told him to. He still hasn’t taken the hint. One day I shall be a princess. One day.
Quick update from Chez Beard. We went to see Bill Bailey and he was amazing. Such a great musician and so funny. Thought of Q as we scoffed our gelatos by the river at 7:30 in the afternoon sun. It’s an easy place to find – right next door to the Lindt chocolate shop.
Jealous! I totally wanted to go and see Bill Bailey! Just as well we didn’t though. The bloody tree we couldn’t convince the council to cut down has blocked the main sewer pipe and we had to pay stupid amounts of money for a plumber to unblock it. I’m going to the council offices later to ask them to reimburse us for the costs and cut down the bloody tree, but there’s little likelihood they’ll do either. We reckon they’ll say that they can’t remove the tree because it’s still healthy and cutting it down will diminish the integrity of the nature reserve (that’s what they said last time when a branch fell off and smashed the Boss’s shed roof – which they refused to repair), and they’ll probably also say that the main sewer pipe is in an easement on our side of the fence so it’s our responsibility. (No prizes for guessing what profanities the Boss will use in response.) *sigh* Bloody tree!
I reckon you could – but it would have to be gazpacho. Or vichyssoise. A hot soup would just devour the biscuit.
You were thinking of coating it in melted cheese, not chocolate I suppose. Although mole has chocolate, doesn’t it? Q, as our official Spanish expert, are there any cold chocolate-based soups … no, don’t worry. I think my queasiness as I typed that sentence gave me the answer.
I’ve got bad attitude & that’s about it.
The Bloke’s niece is scheduled to visit next weekend with a couple of her girlfriends on a road trip to Queensland. Which would be fine if he was going to help me with the housework this weekend in anticipation of their visit.
Instead he’s gone & hurt his back, and he’s trying to persuade me he did it lifting the laundry basket.
I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with him going out into the surf yesterday on his SUP for the first time, in horribly sloppy conditions, and doing a series of face plants into the dumpers as he tried & failed to catch the waves.
So it looks like the chores are all mine this week.
Boo, and hiss.
Did you see that online tutorial for relieving back pain? It involves gentle exercise, such as you might find pushing a vacuum or a mop around the house, or light stretching such as lifting individual items of clothing from a basket to a clothesline. Or the slow, small, circular arm movements involved in rubbing a cloth over a mirror or window. I’d post the link, but I think the Boss deleted it out of my bookmarks.
Oh he gets many injuries from doing housework, Catty. It’s never from the gym, from olympic-competitive yoga, or from falling headfirst into a dumping wave in the surf.
The laundry basket is a repeat offender, I’m afraid. God knows what would befall him if I made him scrub the showers.
My niece’s husband got to, er, sit on a gold throne in one of Saddam’s palaces. He said it wasn’t very comfy and was only plated anyway.
And none of you lot appreciate just how delicate and fragile we can be beneath our rough, manly exteriors. Oh yes, we can lift heavy things. But nature has cruelly made us pay for that by inclining us to injure ourselves when performing light repetitive tasks. Like folding stuff.
Or opening tight jar lids. Or removing spiders…. speaking of, I asked the Boss to check the sheets for spiders the other day, after one tried to roll over and go back to sleep when I was making the bed. He merely flapped the sheets a bit and then complained that all my Salada crumbs were now on his side of the bed. I got a bit annoyed at that, seeing as I don’t eat Saladas in bed – he does – but it was his birthday so I didn’t swear at him. Much.
I’m all for swearing at them when they do stupid things despite your warnings that they’re about to do a very stupid thing.
I chewed my lip as I looked out at that dumping slop on Saturday & said ‘I don’t know about leaving you out in this (while I go shopping) – what if you fall badly & get injured?’
He looked at me with utter disdain & said ‘You’ve got to stop acting like my mother.’
I waited 48 hours for his ill humour over the injury to subside & said ‘So, about your statement about sounding like your mother – do you suppose this time you’ve learned not to sound like you’re my 12yro child?’
Revenge is a dish best served with soft tissue injuries, I find.
In future I plan to say ‘Sure, great idea. Hey, what’s your life insurance worth, these days?’
I have spent the day washing bed linen & sofa covers with Mr. Mopey watching on, looking mournful. I still have to work my way through a shirtload of things that we didn’t get done yesterday, because he was crippled with pain.
He’s off to the osteo in Brisbane tomorrow & good luck to them.
I’m still sticking to my guns & flatly refusing to do anything to alleviate his pain, as if he’d listened to me in the first place he wouldn’t be bloody well injured.
For what did I do a degree in preventative medicine if people won’t listen to me when I’m trying to prevent their impending health crisis?
Last I saw him, he was on bended knee giving Mrs. Spanner a sparkly ring for her left hand.
I twitter-taunted him on Friday with the feast that was spread out before us at Potager (restaurant in the hills of Carool) but to no avail as he was drinking beer & scoffing seafood at Harrington.
So my guess is that they are off celebrating the purchase of the sparkly ring.
Unless… marriage licence…sparkly ring…life insurance…I suppose it is possible he’s lying dead in the swamp somewhere & Mrs. S has cashed in her claim and is driving around Lake Macquarrie in a new Ferrari.
Yes, thank you for noticing. I was just thinking of seeking him out & risking the wrath of a potentially honeymooning Mrs S when he messaged me.
He’ll want cheesecake and BBQ again at some point, so I had faith he couldn’t abandon me entirely, no matter how horrible I am.
Onto other news, I think Humpybong said something about scaling back the social media while he’s dealing with some family issues too. For those who don’t tweet, he’s moved to Warwick, I think, to help out his ex-wife & one of his sons. Bit sad to see him leave Redcliffestan & Maureen. They seemed so content out there.
Yes. He wan’t looking forward to the packing and moving (who does) but now he’s there, apparently they may be moving again shortly. Their son has some substance and mental health issues I believe and Al and his ex have put the band back together to help him out. A tough choice and I wish them all the best. Hope he doesn’t miss the coast too much.
OMG that is epic parenting commitment but bound to be fraught. Best wishes to all concerned.
The best way to piss off your neighbour is to get some motion activated spotlights. Angle them to shine directly at her bedroom windows, and make sure they’re sensitive enough to go off whenever there’s a breeze. The light should then snap on every 10 minutes or so and give her a really bad night’s sleep. I know this works, because the people across the street from us have a sensor light on their driveway, and a cat. Asking them to adjust it downwards a bit wasn’t an option as they don’t speak English, so I had to buy blockout curtains for our bedroom. ‘S all good tho, because we then installed a sensor light in our courtyard and that sucker goes off every time the wind picks up, but we already had the blockout curtains, so yay!
Oh god yes those things are the devil.
They had them in the flats up behind us at Toad Park, to deter *visitors* from less desirable parts of the neighbourhood.
I have no idea how their tenants got any sleep at all.
The cops say that if you want to deter prowlers, those things are pretty well useless, CCTV is the way to go as only an idiot will try anything sus when they are live on film.
And most career criminals are smarter than that.
Long Weds story: As IT Manager I was given the job of designing a CCTV system. Of course I knew absolutely nothing about this but anything vaguely techish was dumped on me. So I did a lot of reading and asked questions about angles and resolutions and stuff and issued a Request For Proposal (need I say that I knew what RFP stood for and that’s all?) So it came to pass that the system was installed and I looked upon it and it was good. There were overlapping fields of view that covered every entrance, the hidden areas, high value/high risk areas, fake cameras and the works. It caught a few stoopid small-time daylight thieves but the real ones came at night with their t-shirts and hoodies totally covering their faces. They smashed glass doors with bricks, grabbed what they wanted and were off. We’d have been better off putting the money into theft insurance, if there is such a thing.
I was reading that it was a Maori dude who smashed open the back door of the Springvale Commonwealth bank so that people could escape the fire. He also stopped the arsehole who set the fire from running away. There you go, Greybeard. You could have just hired a couple of Maori security guards.
When it comes to discussing rugby results you’re safe to expect no comment from me, MM.
How’s the weather down in Victoria these days?
I heard BOM threatening us with heat today and indeed it does seem to be nasty muggy.
Remind me again why I live here and not in the south island of Unzud?
Currently 9:40 am and 13 deg. Quite cloudy. Our Brisbane guests left on Monday before it got to 38 (admittedly a brief, dry and tolerable 38) and the next day was 17. THERE ARE NO SUMMER CLOTHES AND WINTER CLOTHES HERE. WHEN WILL I LEARN. (Melbourne is funny)
I know, that’s horrifying, and has me thinking I’ll never visit Melbourne in spring or summer again.
I don’t usually react to pollens – smoke is my poison, but my eyes got so irritated with the peppercorn trees when we visited the King Tut exhibit that I wouldn’t like to test it.
It’s because all of your grass has learnt to pollinate all at once, apparently. Ours knows it can just reproduce whenever. Like a coral spawning, only in air and deadly.
Sounds like the bloom of blubber jellyfish in Moreton Bay. Apparently there was a record early outbreak, because the weather was so warm that conditions were perfect for it. They’ve been floating round Currumbin creek for the last fortnight, ugh. I know they don’t sting you, but they’re like little islands of sea lice & my skin hates that shit.
And here I was dreaming of a nice little cottage by the sea…. ugh. Mountains it is.
I have my own opinion about this alleged ‘asthma thunderstorm’. But I’m not really up to defending my conspiracy theories today. I’m too busy fighting the Boss for the back scratcher that we both need now that the tap water is giving us hives. Bloody government and their bloody chemicals.
Well, you know my solution to the world’s ills – Moar CAEK!
I made barm brack this morning but I think I had it in for 2 minutes over as it’s dried out a little.
Oh well, with lashings of butter you’d never know it.
Now, who wants CAEK?
And when do these school holidays start? I get the bad feeling the private schools around here may be off as early as tomorrow.
We haven’t done a long summer school holiday here yet, so I’m not sure what it’s going to be like.
The drongoes are out and about at the beach already, that’s for sure.
Thankfully I am usually out there before they even wake up.
SUP board, creek, nobody around except loony fit people that like silence & peace as much as I do.
Aaargh! The shops will be a no-go zone for weeks and we’ll be competing for playground and park space with primary school mums. The horror. Thank goodness I’ve finished most of the Xmas shopping already. Gladys! Break out the emergency Caek!
All I want for breakfast now is a cupcake and a tumbler of Bailey’s. But I have to go to work, and I don’t have either. When will I learn how to shop, and stop obsessing about things that don’t matter, like dog food and toilet paper and bread for school lunches?
I wanted a danish for breakfast, but had to make do with MK’s self-saucing chocolate pudding from yesterday’s Home Ec class. And before you come back with any First World Problem comments, let me just say that the sauce is gelatinous from sitting in the fridge overnight. Gelatinous! Oh, the humanity!
Take comfort that he’s mastering poisons, MM. The last time I ate bruschetta I spent the night yacking down the toilet bowl. I presume it was sulfites, and the carny folk that made it had decided it wasn’t important to note that their SD tomatoes were not toxin free.
I may never eat bruschetta again…which means if your youngest wants to do away with me, he’ll need to master brownies and veggie lasagne.
LK brought home French toast from his Home Ec class. Soaked in maple syrup, it was, and the fussy bugger wouldn’t eat it. Yay! Moar for me! Seriously, it was the best French toast I’ve ever eaten. MK came home with Parma and mash earlier this week. It was magnificent, but she was smarter than her brother and ploughed through most of it before I finally nagged/ cajoled/ threatened/ bribed her into sharing.
Perhaps he could put them to good use on some cricketers for me.
The ABC seems to be streaming endless fecking cricket from local radio, and my car doesn’t have digital to tune it out.
How long do we have to put up with the cricket monopolising the radio?
And yes, put me down for double orders of every syruppy carb just mentioned.
I might make Mary Berry’s lemon-poppy seed traybake for the children tomorrow, but with limes. I’ve got lots of them, and surely a bunch of 18yro girls would rather eat CAEK than use them to make mojitos?
I am bloody annoyed at LK’s Home Ec teacher today. They made gingerbread men, and LK deliberately left out the ginger so that I could eat them too. But the teacher caught him and made him put it in. *sob* A dozen beautiful, golden, inventively decorated gingerbread men, and I can’t eat them! You’d think teachers would be encouraging adjustments for allergies, given that so many people are allergic to things these days. But no. *sigh* I may have to pop in and join the girls in poppyseed mojitos.
Bad news on the cricket, Q. I think you’re stuck with it until March. Do you have a cassette deck or a CD player in your car? Because I can totally make you a mix tape to tide you over.
That sucks Catty. What does the ginger do to you, and is it all ginger across the board? root, powdered, crystalised?
And yes, I am thinking of putting the children out on the deck, but that’s because I realised that we haven’t yet bothered to assemble the bunk beds properly, they are just sitting on top of each other sans structural safety features, so we’ll have to FKknuckle around with that before they can sleep anywhere. That’ll be fun given that Uncle Blokesy has borked his back & shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting while it’s still inflamed.
I might just hand them a bottle of aeroguard & shoo them outside to sleep on the outdoor lounge. it’s covered in dust & spiders but this is meant to be a road trip that involves camping, so that just adds to the ambience, surely?
As for the stupid cricket – I’ve got the CD player and I can play my iPod so the music is covered – I just like listening to a couple of the local programs while I’m out in the traffic. There’s spots that I regularly listen to, like the tech news, cinema reviews, theatre etc & thanks to the bloody cricket that’s that.
I do have the ABC radio app on my iphone but it’s awkward to use that in the car. Especially if an irritating song or personaliy comes on and you’re thinking ‘Get off, off, off.
I’m sure it was only two or three weeks last Nov-December & then it was back to normal programs but with guest presenters – and some of them are a really refreshing change.
I think they’ve got the test cricket on…how long do they have to test us before they go away & play somewhere else?
I normally put a hint of cinnamon in my basic bikkie dough for gingerdead men. Or Ninjabread men. Or Mankini men. Or whatever sick and twisted variation I’m in the mood to make. If I’m feeling festive I’ll even add a pinch of nutmeg. But not cloves. No allergy, I just don’t like them. Ginger, however, gives me internal hives from entry to exit. Not pleasant.
As for the girls, I have a couple of hammocks you can use. The Boss still hasn’t put them up for me. He hasn’t even taken them out of the car boot. *sulk* And no, I’m sure it has nothing to do with them being buried under three garbage bags full of op-shop donations that I planned to drop off back in August.
That sounds fabulous, I’d be making room for both.
Enjoy, MM. I will want a review, I love JK’s world & I’m tempted to nip out to Nerang to see that before everyone is on school holidays & not just the well-heeled children of Jesus here on Nob Hill.
Quick weather update. 15 deg at 2 pm, “feels like 13” what with the chilly wind. 26th of November and I’m wearing a hoodie to go outside. I’m scared Nature will compensate by (a) January being 35 – 45 deg every day or (b) Brisbane will be melted into warm sludge. (I choose (b) please)
Agreed, GB. After that 38ºC day on Monday, I had a damp, stinky pile of towels and swimwear in the laundry, waiting for the cold rain to pause long enough to get them all out on the clothesline. 4 days I had to wait. It drove me out of my poor little OCD mind.
TGP and I – HP tragics – adored it, Q. It was a little episodic, but the creatures are adorable and I think Eddie Redmayne does a fabulous job. I think you’ll like it. Gigantor wasn’t as into it, but then he has chosen not to watch all the HPs eleventy or more times like the rest of us, so fantasy is not really his thing.
The melting is not coming quickly, Southerners. I put on shorts to walk the dog but I think I’ll have to change back to jeans. Cool and overcast and may well rain some more, today.
Excellent. I may disappear off to the cinemas tomorrow for a viewing. I had heard that it was a bit unfocussed, as JK has written the screenplay herself, and in the past that has been tasked to seasoned professionals.
All credit to her as a very talented author, but writing a book is a very different skill set to writing a screen play.
And I’m all for leaving such things to the experts…I thought George Lucas had taught us all that.
Same here. It’s 12º at the moment, but will get to 19º later. The Boss says we should take advantage of the warmth and get some yard work done. The Boss is always saying hilarious things like that. “Clean up the kitchen”, he says, followed by that classic joke, “Stop laughing, I’m serious!” Such a funny man!
Well I think it’s funny.
I made a series of horrible messes in the kitchen, used as many pots & pans & hard to clean utensils s as I could find, and the Bloke had no choice but to clean up after me – as I wasn’t going to help, and our guests were too intent on watching Sex & the City on Netflix to pay the culinary spectacle any mind.
I’ve had the satisfaction of feeding our guests Invisible Lentils in last night’s spag bog & knowing they’d be in the national park sans flushing toilet 18 hours later, come transit time.
Although that might arrive early…niece asked if she could have it for breakfast & then said yes please to the offer of a large carton of it to take to their next campsite.
Let’s hope the lime & poppy-seed syrup cake soothes the violence of the flow as those lentils blast their way out.
I’m sure they’ve not seen legumes since their last trip here three years ago, & as they’ve been eating dinner at the RSL every day of their road trip, those lentils will work like gunpowder on all that chicken parmigiarna that’s been compacted by the road trip.
It’s a good thing there’s all those thunderstorms in the national park, it’ll soften up the ground should the need arise for them to dig a bigger hole.
Their father does all of the cooking & the Bloke has explained to me that every meal is fried in butter.
She boasted that she has multiple food allergies & outlined the terrible symptoms that they provoke in her, (eczema, swollen lips, mystery spots) and that the best way to cure them is to ingest even more of the salycillates/sulfites/Known Allergen X until her body gives up the fight & stops reacting to it.
She tossed a few more passive-aggressive naturopath-slanted barbs into the conversation and I smiled benignly, thinking of the lifetime of suffering her ulcerated GIT is going to inflict on her.
Oh, how could you say such a heinous thing? Chicken in pyjamas is magnificent! 9 times out of 10, I go the parma option at restaurants. It’s sooooooo good! And no lentils, which is always a bonus. I have learned the hard way to avoid anything that hastens the passage of food through my shortened plumbing.
That reminds me: Quokka, love, you didn’t have to resort to lentils. That awful Sex And The City program is enough to give anyone the shits.
No, and it would have been an exercise in futility to suggest it. The Bloke’s family are quite convinced that food allergies, illness & physical injury are for the Weak-Minded & they are above such things.
As I was saying, she has the perfect personality to fit her for a nurse.
Yep. 29th March to 23rd April. Coincidentally, I’m expecting my colonoscopy to be 29th March, pending confirmation, so maybe if we’re doing the op shop tour we can wait a couple of days so I can walk around without people thinking the aliens left their probe in again. The school holidays will be from 1st April to 17th April. Easter is 16th April. Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly. Lavender’s green. Roses are red. Lemons are tart. I love you more than a unicorn fart. No, I haven’t had my coffee yet. How can you tell?
We may none of us make it that far, MM.
I was listening to BOM on 612 this morning & the senior forecaster is threatening us with a 5 day heatwave with temps around 40C, starting this Friday.
I foresee a spike in Guinea Pig sales as there’ll be a mass heat-stroke murder event in back yards all over SEQ if that comes about.
Madame Tussauds has gone away, I just hope the pigs have been removed to safety by her doting MIL.
There’s another house with an OFI this weekend that he has agreed to. If we’re going to sell, now is the time to do it. Houses in our area are starting to nudge the $1M mark, but that will drop by $200K after New Year’s. I’d rather sell now and be filthy rich instead of sell then and merely be filthy.
It looked lovely until I got to the spiral staircase and then it looked like surgery for hip replacement when we fall down it. I assume the hippy owner is selling because he/she is still in traction & needs urgent cash funds for new bionic hips?
Where’s the other one, Catty?
It’s not as quirky as the houses I usually drool over, (seriously, that spiral co-op staircase was adorable!) but it ticks all the boxes, especially the one where we would own the house outright. I’m looking forward to seeing if it’s as good in the flesh.
Exposed brick has made a big comeback in recent times. Render is a shit of a thing to maintain on an internal wall, too – it attracts every bit of dust and fluff imaginable. I like render outside as you can just hit it with the gerni.
Catty, I like this house a lot – and it looks like it’s in a lovely spot.
What’s the Puffing Billy Railway that popped up on the maps nearby?
It’s a cute little heritage train that runs through some spectacular bushland in the Dandenong Ranges. Very popular with tourists – and locals, too. All the kidlets have been there on school excursions at one time or other. It’s very lovely.
The Puffing Billy is great. Open carriages, riding with your legs hanging out, old style trestle bridges (like in the movies). Definitely worth a ride or two. We’re just back from an all-day minder. Pooped! Not as young etc.
Yep, what Catty said.
I like the sound of that heritage train, remind me of that when I eventually manage to straggle back down south.
The Tweed region keep muttering about restoring the train line between Murwillumbah & Byron, just for tourism purposes, and I’m all for it.
Catty, have you thought about arranging a private viewing before all the punters get there?
I really do like the look of this house & I think the agents take you seriously as a buyer if you make them do the work involved in a private inspection.
We’ve been to that many open houses now that I think I see a pattern in how the jonnies deal with people.
They get so many tourists going through on the weekends that what they tend to do is target those that look like they’ve got the most money to spend.
i.e. the flashiest car.
I’d make the sods work for their living and tell them you’re busy on weekends and the only possible time you can go through it is a weekday morning. And lie through the teeth about your work/income, too.
Melbourne real estate agents sound like a right bunch of tools & from what I’ve heard from you and Khan GB, there’s no point at all in being honest or direct with them.
How’s your bug collection, GB?
Tested & ready for smearing over airline seats & Xmas stockings the country over?
Hamish is starting to talk. Mostly ‘up’, ‘that?’, ‘there!’, ‘Ta’ and the usual hello, bye-bye and a vigorous NO. I expect a burst since he wants to know the name of EVERYTHING he sees and he’ll come back in a while and check to see if you’re consistent. He can follow quite reasonable requests – “go to Phoebe’s room and get blue bunny and give him to Grandma”. I find them fascinating at this age – and every other TBH. PB’s language can be hilarious. “I’ll bet you never expected to see that!” and “I don’t expect he thought about what would happen”, the latter when I’ve teased Lyn and been chased out with a broom.
Oh, poor boys! And poor you, Madam. Sick kids are a lot of work. Get some vapour rub on the soles of Gigantor’s feet each night, it really does help with the coughing. It works best if you wear socks. And for TGP, I highly recommend a level teaspoon of bicarb soda morning and night. It tastes like crap, but if you mix it in orange juice it’s a bit like Tang. Which also tastes like crap, but it’s supposed to. Like Hot Chicken Heroes from the servo, or kebabs from dodgy caravans on the nightclub strip. Mmmm…. Hot Chicken Heroes….
I’ve dealt with all the local agents, and they all refuse point blank to do pre-OFI viewings unless the buyer is Chinese or Indian, because those buyers are seriously cashed up and startlingly aggressive. It’s very popular around here, so the agents pretty much just sit back and letting the buyers do all the work while the commissions roll in. Lazy bastards.
I’ve got a strong urge to become a REA. I want to be a lazy liar!
GB – yes. All the slaving is worthwhile when they come out with something peculiar. Last night as I tried to sleep, TGP was singing the Harry Potter theme music, accompanying himself by – softly – using me as a percussive instrument. You had to be there, but it made me laugh until I was helpless.
Try politics, Morgana. You can be lazy and dishonest there, too, but you also get the added bonuses of a huge, tax-free super policy and a whole queue of people who would be happy to hit you any time you like.
I don’t know anything about him.
I don’t even remember where I first heard the Tumbarumba.
Just that it is good.
Hey, I just met some potential nice new neighbours walking down the fire break having a stickybeak at the house that’s for sale behind us. (The Great Dane people left & there have been really good tenants in there all year – I think they got sick of Wendy’s yapper barking at their dog)
Poms, our age – one of those lovely country shire accents.
They seem ever so sweet, they stopped to talk as I was doing the laundry & wanted to know if it was quiet & if we get much traffic noise. And they sounded me out about ‘what if we build an extension & a pool?’
Me: ‘Great. my husband is an architect so we are big fans of renovations. Just watch out for the council drains if you want to put a pool in’ and I pointed out the location.
To my absolute delight they said ‘Yes, we know – you can’t dig within 2m of them & you can’t take heavy machinery over them. We’ve lived on an easement before.’
Wow, people who know the rules & intend to obey them.
If only I’d made gingernuts this morning I could have invited them in for a cuppa & begged them to get out the contract & sign on the dotted line.
Council rules! Don’t talk to me about bloody Council rules! Bloody Council and their Bloody tree blocked the sewer pipe in the easement behind our house, affecting us and everyone upstream of us, but they’re not going to cut the tree down. Their response to our request was “It’s the water board’s pipe. It’s their responsibility to lay pipes that tree roots can’t get into”. I shit you not! And apparently we stand little to no chance of getting our umpty-leven plumber’s bill reimbursed because they don’t accept negligence claims citing “their tree, their land, their responsibility”. Also, I didn’t attach photos of the damage to the claim. Stupid me, I should have gone down to Council, applied for a permit to dig up the easement, and applied to the water board for permission to excavate around and photograph their pipe, then hired an excavation company to do the digging, then hired a professional photographer for the pictures, then have the excavator refill the hole, then hired a landscaper to return the nature reserve back to its original state, just so that I could have photographs for a frickin’ insurance claim. Oh, well, I’ll know for next time.
And there will be a next time. This is the third time we’ve asked them to cut that stupid thing down because it’s dangerous, but their response the other two times was also “Suck it up, princess”. I want to cut the tree down, or at least poison the bloody thing so that it’s dead and falls over by itself, but the Boss won’t let me. He’s convinced I’d get caught and then we’d have a $50,000 fine to pay. Bloody Council!
Yes, what Morgana said. That looks like a very well built sturdy little house.
Although it does look like there’s a lot of trees around it, so you’d have to check they aren’t leafing for that very reason – and you’d have to fend off the leaves in the gutter.
The best thing about owning a house outright is that you’re not sucked dry by a mortgage. If we found that tree roots got into pipes occasionally, the Boss would merely go out and buy a K’a’rcher guerney and clear them out himself, and the offending tree would find itself in that darling little fireplace before it had a chance to repeat offend.
I’m quite looking forward to the viewing on Sunday. Especially as we have friends in the area, who coincidentally happened to drop in yesterday to invite us over for a Sunday barbecue. Yay!
The one thing that worries me is that we have to sell this place to buy another house. Which means I have to physically remove all my possessions and clean everything – burning the place down wouldn’t be an option.
Moving is a pain in the arse, Catty, but having done it and wound up somewhere so much nicer, I guarantee you it is worth it.
Miss Kitteh woke us up this morning to tell us that the Wobbly was outside the laundry door & she’d booted her little joey out of her pouch to eat some delicious rain-soaked grass out on the fire-break.
We were only metres away from them, watching them graze.
And have I told you that the pair of cockatoos that come in for breakfast at dawn screech at me if I haven’t refilled their bowl? They sit on the railings and make the most god-awful noise until I go out with a refill to placate them.
Did I tell you about Stumpy?
One of the pair has one foot that is so badly deformed that it’s almost upside down. It’s so lovely watching Stumpy’s mate watch his back while he eats.
Birds really are the most beautiful creatures.
We were at a paintball field yesterday (long story – no, we weren’t partaking) and a group of us were watching a bunny sunbathing on the grass. Then one of the gentlemen climbed into his car to leave and his little doggy jumped out and went hell-for-leather straight for the rabbit. It was hilarious, but only because I wasn’t the one who had to catch him. By the end of it, the owner was muttering rude things about wishing he’d bought a cat.
All I can think of when you say ‘dog’ is ‘ticks’ – a friend of mine found two on her dog yesterday & has just had a very expensive time of it at the vet. They sound like they’re really bad this season. Spread the word, MM.
Do you get them down there Catty? I’d assume it’s just because this was cattle country. Horrible little blood-suckers.
We have some ticks, but the paralysis ones are extremely rare around our area. Most of them are on animals that have recently visited Gippsland beaches. Not to worry, we have no doggie, and the neighbour’s cat only comes over here to crap in our garden.
Sigh. Apparently my sister had a colonoscopy and they found 2 polyps. We do have a family history, but let me point out that Poppa was in his nineties before it took him off. I think Father had a few polyps removed, but nothing further. OK, fair enough, I’ve been thinking I should probably have one at some point.
So she’s now barraging me with texts, the latest being that if I don’t book an appointment now – which I can’t afford, and can’t take time off to attend right now anyway – she’s going to “Tell TGP that it will kill me and then I’ll have to deal with that”.
For sake of all the fucks currently to be found in this Great Southern Land! So the question is, where will we go for Christmas? I’m not hanging around here on tenterhooks waiting for her to psychologically damage my bubba, that’s for sure.
Just tell her you’ve done it & everything was fine. And then book the appointment when you have time for it in the new year.
Another 6 weeks & a vicious assault by a glazed ham won’t make that much difference to the likely outcome, surely.
That should be the name of your travelling stage show. Featuring the triple acts of you, Catty & Humpybong.
Well, I’m all for getting you checked out, Madam. You all know how important early detection was for me. I’d suggest that you ask your GP for a referral to the public hospital colo-rectal clinic. Without symptoms but with a family history, they’ll probably put you down as category two, so there’ll be a bit of a wait, maybe 6 months? That way you can tell your sister that you’re on the waiting list, and hopefully she will be satisfied with that and shut the hell up. Unless her polyps are dodgy, in which case she will be at you like a rat up a drainpipe. For her sake, and yours, I hope they come back clear.
Yes, I’ve got nothing against being screened, and will certainly arrange it when possible. It’s the emotional hostage-taking of my bubba that really cauterises my colon. Oh, and the preceding “Don’t ask me to help when you’re having chemo”.
I’m not even taking issue with the fact that we’ve jumped from my failure to immediately – on Saturday – capitulate to her demands to chemotherapy … but if I really was that sick, she is one of the last people on Earth I would want anywhere near me.
Oh, hang on. Do you think maybe the thought of the Huge Family Christmas is freaking her out so she’s getting in a few pre-emptive strikes? I kind of sympathise with that I suppose – but still, threaten my kids and you toy with your own longevity.
Thanks for the timely reminder of why I avoid my sister, MM.
At such times I used to grit my teeth & tell myself that on some level she did care about what was happening & due to having the emotional maturity of a teaspoon, this was the only way that she could express that.
Try to focus on the fact that she is worried about you & the long-term well-being of your children & try not to focus too much on the fact that she sucks at her way of expressing it.
My sister would have said much the same thing. But if I’d ever said that to her, OMG the storm that would erupt.
Tell her you appreciate her concern & you’ve made an appointment with your GP to discuss it – that’ll take the steam out of her sails. You’d hope.
Ugh. Families. According to mine, I’m the one who says the offensive things that upset the family. They could be right. They used to get so upset when I said offensive things like “It’s Christmas, guys. Please stop calling me a pathetic, useless sack of shit”, Or “I wasn’t in the room when that argument happened, how can it possibly be my fault?”. They’d get majorly enraged and I’d end up leaving in tears. I’m so glad I get to spend the day with the Boss’s family instead. Yeah, there are arguments and insults there too, but at least everyone else is so drunk that nobody remembers it the next day.
That reminds me. MIL’s cousin in Belgium is in her 80’s. Her husband had a stroke 10 years ago and was completely paralysed, so she had been nursing him at home the whole time (with a bit of help from the home nursing service). He died earlier this year, so MIL told Cousin that she was welcome to pop over here to Australia any time she liked. Apparently she likes Christmas, and has called to announce she will be coming over for a six week visit. MIL will enjoy that. Cousin drinks even more than she does. I think this might be a good year to take the video camera to MIL’s Christmas lunch. It’s going to be a corker!
Sounds good, Catty.
There’s a lot to be said for escaping toxic relationships & spending time with people who are loving & fun to be around.
I’m just so glad to be out of stinky Brisbane that I don’t care what we do. Relax, hire a SUP for the bloke to use for that two weeks he’s on holiday, & watch movies & read books in the AC.
Chilling out time, FTW.
I’d say he’ll take his olds to the RSL for lunch. They seem to enjoy that, and as it’s a venue that caters for the elderly & the disabled it’s a much better choice than the customary buffet crush.
I do wonder how long his mother will last in the nursing home.
Without a captive target to snipe at, her life will be rather empty.
I’d be making my skip-filling duties according to the weather forecast, MM.
I think Thursday is meant to be hot & the weekend considerably cooler.
And yes, Catty, definitely we want Belgian booze-floozy filibusters to amuse us over the silly season.
FIL has a good video camera that he uses for birthdays and special events. I was thinking of asking him to get some footage too, but he has an annoying habit of switching off right before the good stuff happens. Another annoying thing he does is give a running commentary in a quiet, droning voice as he films.
“O.k, it’s LK’s birthday. Here we have the birthday cake that Catty made. That looks like a nice cake. LK is cutting the cake now. Yep, right, he’s putting the knife in the cake. If he touches the bottom he will have to kiss the nearest person. I’d better stand back. Heh heh, I don’t want to be kissed. He’s cut the cake now. Right, he’s handed the knife to Catty so she can finish cutting it up and give us all a slice of the cake. She’s taking the candles out now. She’s cutting some nice big slices. There’s one for LK. She’s giving a piece to the Teenie now. And there’s one for MK. Is the Boss having some? No? No, wait, he is having a piece. And one for me. I have this nice cup of tea here, I’ll enjoy a piece of cake with that…..”
*Screen goes blank because he’s switched off to eat his cake, & misses hilarity when Catty hands a plate of cake to MIL and MIL drops it straight into FIL’s cup of tea…..*
We have hours and hours of footage with FIL’s running commentary. Except at our wedding. There’s only about 10 minutes of that, and you can’t hear the vows over his running commentary.
“The Boss and Catty are making their wedding vows. The priest is talking. Now Catty is promising to love, honour and obey. Heh heh, we’ll see how long that lasts…..” Yeah, shut up FIL. And in case you’re wondering, it was about half an hour.
We still haven’t made any real Xmas plans. It’s better that way(?) At some point we’ll probably visit/be visited by various family but no one gets precious about The Day. Oldest great-niece is turning 18 (nooo!) just after Xmas so we’ll probably go there for a celebration. Or they might come here. Either way my niece the globe-trotting nun will be there which is good as we’ve only communicated via email for a couple of years. All the snide and nasty relatives have been left in Qld or died so no dramas or stress. I just hope we can get HGBS down at some point. I miss him. Between extra freezer, beer fridge and dishwasher, Xmas catering just isn’t the horror it was when we had about 30 in the little place at Chelmer.
Good lord! Well, surely Council – or the subbies – have to pay for the car totalling? I know that doesn’t lessen the inconvenience or inevitable loss of amenity over transition though.
Or are they claiming he parked in a skip?
Yep. There’s apparently no doubt the truck backed into him at speed but it’s a lease car and HP and the contractors are taking their sweet time.
Jeebus GB, he’s lucky he’s still alive if it was a rogue garbage truck.
One of those ran over a couple of tourarists last December here at Burleigh & I think she wound up with a brain injury.
I say count your blessings that it wasn’t worse.
Seconded or thirded or something. “Get Them Before They Get You” was always my motto.
Until now of course. Just come back from the park where we went on the swings and slide, played chasey and shared some cherries. May also have been some decoration making involving glue and glitter and putting up of tree. She watched a ‘citing story last night (Robin Williams as the Frog Prince) and slept in our bed, banishing me to the spare room.
Sniff. I used to buy the best cherries Evah from the Greek fruit shop in the main drag of West End.
I went back to see them especially & they’d sold up. And their cherries looked the same, and came in the same box, but they tasted like Arse.
I don’t know where I’ll ever find cherries like that again.
I wonder if they grow them in WA, where they grow the best mandarins Evah & which is a big drawcard to relocate there.
Oh & speaking of Queens, I just had xmas lunch at the Tallai golf club with the CWA ladies, who seem a good bunch, and one of them roared off in a black sedan with personalized number plates that said ‘Byonce’.
I think it was one of the ladies with a walking stick.
I expect you have to do the blood oath and bring them the head of someone who bakes out of packets first.
Q, look for markets. The bloke on the stall next to us had fantastic cherries last year. Huge and still firm but sweet and juicy. Mmm … cherries. I did hear on the news that heavy rains have substantially affected the harvest so it just might not be our year, sadly.
That sucks about the rains, it was definitely a texture & taste isshew.
Um, I think they’ve head-hunted me because most of them don’t like cooking and they need people that do.
Did I tell you I’ve been roped into making Anzacs for the Australian Day citizenship ceremony?
And there was an intake of breath & a sudden hush at the table when I admitted that I add powdered ginger to mine.
I think I said that somewhere but it’s early & I’ve been enjoying all this lovely rain. We’re still sitting in a lovely moist cloud of drizzle, here. I can barely see the ridge up the hill for the clouds.
And I can’t see any of Wendy’s tradies, and as it’s past 6.30am if anyone was going to turn up today they’d be here by now.
You can’t exactly use power tools in the rain, much less in the 30-40ml of rain that I think we had last night, so I think they’ve done buggered off for a while.
Peace for the day, huzzah!
We’re in for another cool and sunny day. While I would normally rejoice at that, I’m worried that FIL will take advantage of the weather and come over to hack some more trunk off our tree. Yesterday he managed to drop a massive log on our driveway, which is now cracked. I mentioned the crack, and he vehemently denied it was him. “That crack’s been there for a year or more!” It hasn’t. *sigh* Part of me wants to be grateful that the tree is (gradually) disappearing, but another part of me wishes that FIL would go away and sit on his porch to complain about Yoof Today like other old men. It’s stressful worrying about what he’s going to break next. The fence, the neighbour’s car, his neck….
It isn’t, unfortunately. When he got home yesterday, he started doing a little household maintenance. There was a loose curtain bracket that needed tightening. He couldn’t be arsed digging out his stepladder for what was essentially a 30 second job, so he climbed up onto a cheap plywood chest of drawers. Crack! Straight through the top. MIL wanted to skin him alive when she saw it, but he was already bleeding profusely. I’d make some snide comment about idiot men doing idiot things, but unfortunately I do the same idiot things myself. Constantly.
Mr B still pops up on Twitter but he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s a while back. He has some pretty bad days and I don’t think he makes “improved water” any more. I should go out and see him but there’s always something going on.
I pop in to twitter occasionally to see Mr. B. It’s rough going but it sounds like he has good support from his family.
He was devastated to lose all of his chickens to a fox, a few weeks back.
He has new chickens but I’m yet to see proof in the form of twitter pix.
Meanwhile, we just had a fabulous little 10 minute thunderstorm that began with tiny little hail stones.
So exciting. All these storms used to miss us in our 20 years at Toad Park, they’d split and go around either side of our hill. Well, apart from the one in November 2 years ago that cut through every colourbond roof & exposed car from Archerfield to Northlakes.
No pool builders today, it looks like they’ve got the armature in & are probably waiting on the plumber & the form workers before they can send in the concrete pump. And they might have to pump out some water first – I think Wendy is about to discover that when you dig a hole for a pool at the bottom of a very large hill, when it rains, the hills tend to ooze.
I had a quick stickybeak when I was up the back at the hills hoist today…it should look rather nice.
Apart from when it’s finished there’ll be the ongoing issue of the waterfall-hill-slush trajectory.
Oh, poor Bangarr! That is horrible news. Maybe MIL will run into him at the hospital when she finally gets in to see someone about her suspected Parkinsons. They’ve put her on the waiting list, so goodness knows when that will be.
We’ve awoken to some lovely rain today. I hope you northerners get some too.
It is dreadful to see them suffer so.
MM…I just heard BOM on the radio & they said we are in for another 36 hours of showers, storms, and actual rain – you know, those long periods when it’s just velly velly wet all over.
I’d make the most of the sun this morning before it works itself up into a lather.
Oh, has he? I’ve only read his funny books & I’d quite like to read Leviathan. The Bloke reads the Boy’s Own Adventure stuff, he came home chortling that Prof. X Boylan has just walked onto the pages.
Speaking of which, for those of you who FB, how is the prof?
I wandered over to his blog to comment but it seems he’s so depressed by the Trump takeover that he’s switched off the internet lest worse news overcome him.
I’ll get to them one day.
I haven’t seen him around for ages, either.
I got thoroughly sick of the Lizard Man puppeting Hav’s account that I just started ignoring it all. I think that was about Orin being jealous of the affection everyone had for Hav & just deciding to sabotage that by using the fake Havock account to be really stupid and mean.
Actually since JB quit the piss (he took a year off as an experiment) he seems to have become much more discerning with his choice of friends. Let’s hope the realises that before he starts boozing again.
I find it hard to imagine anyone was fooled. Havsy is awesome (even the Boss thinks so), while Lizard Man… well yeah, nah.
Speaking of sock puppets, Mayhem’s Mum has been awfully quiet since the Beards moved down to Ringworm. You should drag her out of the Oubliette, GB, and give us something to laugh at now that we don’t have Tales of Toad Park to entertain us.
LOL. Good to hear the Boylans are surviving the electoral horror of it all. Have you tried youtube for Kotter? that has a lot of old shows that never seem to make it back to telly.
If you knew the hours I’ve wasted watching Mr Ed…
Oh, not for conversational purposes, I hasten to assure you. Just for the answer to useful questions like, “Where the hell did you put the monkey wrench?” and “Why, oh why do you keep hanging around work, when I have to, you know, work?”
A guaranteed way to make the Boss talk to me is to start having a telephone conversation. He just made a complete arse out of me by yelling nasty things about a real estate agent – while I was talking to her on the phone. *sigh*. Suddenly the potential buyer is offering $100K less than they were at the start of the phone call. But that’s probably for the best. I just double-checked the website for that Upwey house in case they’ve changed the OFI again, and they’ve cancelled the OFI because it’s sold. Did I say *sigh*? *sigh*.
Rats and damn. The good ones do go quickly, Catty.
And you might be better off doing a clutter clear out before you sell, anyway.
I shudder every time I walk past the Box Room. I keep telling myself I should dispatch it to the landfill or the goodwill, one box at a time, but it’s just so bloody hard to motivate myself to do that.
There’s always another book to read, a cup of tea to enjoy, and a recipe to cook up.
Did I tell you that I made Mary Berry’s Yorkshire gingernuts yesterday?
They were fun. I’ve sent the entire batch bar two into the Bloke’s work this morning. Pity you can’t eat ginger, Catty.
Baking, so very satisfying.
I’m trying my hardest not to eat anything at all at the moment. That seems the easiest way to prevent IBS flareups. By dinner time last night I was about ready to gnaw off my own arm, so I had a small serving that has been gurgling unpleasantly ever since. Ugh. This is not going to end well.
That’s the strange thing about it. I dropped 2 kilos after Monday night’s event, but I’ve put it all back on and then some. I’m convinced this means further events…. which is not welcome news, seeing as we are off this evening to that exclusive, invitation-only awards night for the kidlets. I’d better suss out the location of the facilities as soon as we arrive…. and cross my fingers that I can get to them in time.
How did it go? And what was the mystery award you weren’t sure of?
I have to say our work Christmas party was epic. The 12 course degustation menu was superb. Luckily each course was only a bite and a half or we would have turned into wafer-thin mint man … but OMG the food!
Someone was saying it was voted the 7th best restaurant in Australia and I’m only surprised it was so low down.
That sounds fab, Morgana! I’ve only once been to one of those degustation places, and I was glad each item was only bite-sized because all but one of the items was horrible. Whoever came up with the idea of a goats cheese croquette in fig sauce deserves a well hard kick in the quoit. Bleargh!
The awards night was suitably impressive. If I can figure out how to post a video, I’ll put MK’s musical group up for you all to admire. Maybe later when the kidlets get out of bed and are on-hand to help me.
Really? Wow, that is awesome MM. And that they’ve managed to find a Xmas party venue that’s so close to home. Win.
If I ever make it up the north coast again I will have to investigate.
So what were the tastiest morsels?
It depends how much you’ve stuffed down your gullet before it, Khan GB.
Hey MM, how went the skip filling?
I considered opening a box of junk yesterday to dispatch the contents to the goodwill, but then all of my goodwill burst into flames so I shut the door & walked away.
I really must junk the hoard, one of these days.
Thank goodness I could still breathe and therefore taste on Friday, but I woke on Saturday with a nasty dose of TGP’s cold.
Luckily I went with the skip bag … same size, takes the same stuff but you buy it from the hardware, fill it at your leisure and then call to collect. So I think I’ll have to sacrifice Plumbing Thursday, because I won’t want to do it next weekend.
Also luckily, Gigantor is on holidays and therefore deployable whenever he doesn’t have to work.
I didn’t know Gigantor was working. Good on him. I have yet to convince the older kidlets to find paid employment. When I got MK’s course list for next year, one of her subjects requires her to find a work experience position for 6 hours a week. I thought that sucked hugely, and asked the teachers if she could just get a paid job and count the hours towards the work experience, but they said no. It doesn’t make sense, but there you have it.
Sux to have a cold, MM. You poor love. Here, have a mug of eSoup. And a hug. U> (0)
Well, it completely fell in his lap. One of his mate’s Dads imports teak furniture, so because he’s good at manual arts he was asked to help with the refinishing, which he is also good at. So when they need help he gets summoned. He got offered work baby-sitting but never followed up and got his Blue Card, and there was talk of putting a CV into the local restaurants but that never happened either.
But he always says yes and I’m told works hard and gives no cheek so there’s that, too.
That is ridiculous, Catty! I mean, if they can get paid, why not? Has she got any idea who she will approach?
What a lovely skill to have, MM. Much saner than babysitting, too. You never know when they’ll try to kill each other…wait…he’d be perfect for wrangling that.
What kind of work experience is it, Catty?
I think the general idea of those things is that if they do x amount of hours per week then it gets them used to the idea that you have to keep going back there, day after day, week after week, and it stops those with wealthy families from sending their children to sleep all weekend in the stationery office out the back of Uncle Clem’s law office.