Saturday, 28 January 2012

Curriculum Vitae

I've been sent into the office (garden office, not a Real Person's Office) by The Accountant to do some work. This is because I moaned and groaned, ranted and raved for a full ten minutes about the state, or lack of, my career.  "You made me leave a perfectly good dance school and company in Oxford, blah, blah, blah, kitchen sink, rant, rant, bloody children, rave, rave, selfish, selfish.....".  So in the end he flipped a coin (in truth it was a Turkish Delight wrapper) to see whether I worked this morning, or had a sleep (overtired and emotional).

The wrapper won.  So I am meant to be working on my CV and getting stuck into the dreary job of looking for dance work.  Of course I took a moment to write a cheeky blog.  That will show him.  Bloody stupid time to work anyway as it is Sunday morning. No one will be in their office. No one to answer my questions or emails.  So I have written a List.  I am in fact the Queen of the List.  I really like Lists.  I have tried not to make the List too overwhelming or ambitious.  It is a very modest List, and I could in fact achieve all the components today if I wanted.

It is a choice between working at home.
Going to beach with The Accountant and Cost Centres Numbers 1 and 2.
Going to a gallery with visiting Father, Jo and Cost Centre Number 3.

If only writing a blog could be a paying job. With a little side serving of dance.............

Sunday, 22 January 2012

Early Morning

Ever since I got over my jet lag, way back in the day when I was full of hopes and dreams (before the clanking of the chains around me and the kitchen sink), I used to get up very early and go walking.  Feeling thoroughly chuffed with myself, energised and ready for the children by 7am.  These days it is a different story entirely.  Jonty does like to have an early morning feed, about 5:30am, but then he dozes off again.  Which means I doze off again.  The whole house is dozing this summer due to the warm evenings keeping everyone up until very late.

So today I said to myself - this has got to change.  So I did get up early, went walking before the sun was even properly up, the birds were tweeting (squawking by Australian standards) I was all alone in the beautiful dawn of a new day and feeling very chuffed indeed. Then I saw all those smug dog walkers.  No offence to anyone (DH especially), but why do dog walkers seem so bloody annoying?  Is it the outfit?  Is it that they are always slighly overweight ranging to very overweight?  Is it the fact that they are usually carrying with them a disgusting stick with a slimy, grimy ball on it or even more disgusting package of doggy poo? All of the above.

Anywho, came back from walk (saw a rainbow-coloured balloon in the sky - maybe the gays are taking over after all) and did some yoga.  Hilarious yoga CD titled "Yoga For Busy People", but the guy spends the first ten minutes dictating the intentions of yoga practice and then chanting.  Just get on with it hippie - I've got three children waking up any second now.  Meant to be going to dance class tonight.  We will see.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Visitors from the Old Country

Our first (and best, seeing as they are the first!) friends have come to stay from England.  What has really made my week fantastic was going to the pool today.  As I was walking around the big pool holding on to Rufus' hand, what could only be described as a complete Adonis came strolling out in front of me, with brown locks, a washboard stomach, a very broad chest and legs that went all the way up to....his washboard stomach (yes my father reads this blog).

This sight was only SLIGHTLY better than seeing Frazer at 8am this morning in JUST A TOWEL ROUND HIS WAIST.  I nearly tossed the baby at him just to see if he would drop everything.  Keep it together ladies.

Very hot here in Melbourne 34 degrees but due for a thunderstorm tomorrow.  Karen and I are debating whether we have the energy to get up at 6am, cycle to the local swimming pool and making it back before The Accountant has espresso at 7:30am.  It is already 11:30pm, I haven't had my evening stroll and there are visitors waiting in the lounge and half a bottle of bubbly to go.  Can it be done?

I came out (into the office) on the pretence of checking the weather report.  You can see the pressure under which these blogs are written.  You could break the tension with a knife.  Ha Ha. Sorry I couldn't even keep that smirk off my face whilst writing that.  Life in the suburbs hey. It's bloody hot.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

English Summer

Eighteen degrees and raining. My kind of summer. I love it.  I know you think I'm crazy English folks, but really the heat gets you down over here.  Unless you are sunning yourself by a pool, then it is really no earthly good being 35 degrees and sunny all day every day.  So this little break in the weather suits me just fine as I can get things done.

Speaking of getting things done - when am I ever going to start up my dance classes or company? Hey?  What's that about?

Wanted: One super-efficient secretary to do all administration, marketing, publicity and organisation of aforementioned dance company. No pay just good jokes and champagne. Whingers need not apply.

Orange Sucks

I have just had the most aggravating conversation with the idiots at Orange, trying to get the debt collectors off my back.  I haven't even used the bloody phone since September and they are trying to get more money out of me, even though my contract was up months ago.  It is making my blood boil.  I even had to pull out my Jenifer Sauders line from Absolutely Fabulous "Is there someone else I could talk to?", very scathingly said.

I was explaining to the Idiot Manager that it was not about the money, but the principal of the thing.  He was lost for words, had no idea what I was talking about.  So all of you UK people out there - boycott Orange and I am never, ever, ever using them again.  So there.

Monday, 9 January 2012

43

Yesterday was my birthday! (Thanks a lot all you people who didn't send cards or birthday wishes via email.  You are on my list.  Try not to mess it up again next year.)

Had a lovely day which started with a sunny fry-up breakfast at Auntie and Auncles' camping spot.  The day progressed by going to the Maze at Wandiligong (yes UK friends, that is really the name of that place).  A bit of fun at the river collecting sticks and stones.  And ssssshhhhh, don't tell The Accountant that I bought myself a little piece of happiness in one of the many new boutiques in Bright whilst I was supposedly buying baby food and milk.

Henry and Rufus were in boy-heaven at the river yesterday, having so many adventures making dams, collecting stones and other stuff which is still in the car.  The car smelt like the bush on the drive home to Melbourne.

I was just getting used to being 42. Oh well.

Caravan of Love & Disaster

Remember when all you had to think about on holiday was your bikini, your book and your towel?  Those days are gone people.  Just a faded sun-on-your-back, suncream-smelling memory.  These days it is all about the packing.  The packing for the holiday, the packing for the day at the river/beach, the packing up from the day at the river/beach, the unpacking back at the caravan, the re-packing of clean versus dirty stuff.  And so it begins again the very next day.  Does The Accountant experience any of this?  I can hear you laughing from here.

Caravan parks are funny places.  Like suburban-life in miniature.  Basically we all live together in tiny versions of houses, which are more annoying, more cramped and with a lot more crap spread about, than you would in the comfort of your own home.  Somehow you never end up sitting outside at the end of the day looking up at the stars on a warm evening.  Even if you did, your reverie would be interrupted from next door "Kevin! Don't put your wet bathers on the bed again, how many times......".

Bright is  a beautiful place and I spent nigh on ten years going there each summer with my aunties and uncles and cousins.  Even when my own family stopped going, I still kept up the vigil.  In those days my Uncle took his boat, and we would go water-skiing on Lake Buffalo every second day for two weeks.  Great fun for us cousins - looking back it must have been exhausting for the adults. 

My Aunties holiday regime would have been a tried and tested formula of housework and childcare within a tent.  With some swimming and skiing thrown in for good measure.  My Uncles days would have gone something like this: pack for lake, put boat in lake, drive boat, fix boat, more skiing, lunch, fix boat, get boat out of lake, put on trailer and drive back to camp ground. Fix boat. Fire up the BBQ for dinner and drink beer.  Fix boat a little more before bed.  There were always three male heads upside down peering at the boat engine.  Although I suspect only one of the heads knew exactly what was going on.

Bright is set in the Alpine region of Victoria and the smell in the air is just as refreshing as the icy-cold water in the Ovens River.  The elixir of life and caravan/housework.

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Bright

Off on holiday today again folks.  Don't envy me too much UK friends as this comes complete with another long car journey with three small children.  Have got DVD player in car now so at least bigger boys amused.  Jonty not so amused as he gets to sit facing back of car looking at bloody nothing but the smug looks on his brother's faces as they watch all their favourite films and cartoons.

Stop the madness of unpacking, washing and packing! My life.  Getting rather good at it now and hoping to have all bags ready for onslaught when the Accountant comes home in one hour ready to go.  "What have you been doing woman? Sniffing around the house. All you have to do is look after boys, pack clothes, linen, food, swimming stuff, toys, baby stuff........." Yes I know darling.

Merimbula

Have just come back from a lovely jaunty holiday to Merimbula - on the South Coast of Australia, about six hours drive from Melbourne.  Now this is where it gets confusing - we stayed at The Cousin's Brother's house.  Obviously he is my cousin as well.  The Cousin's Brother was very hospitable, does a decent BBQ and a great impression of Finn (youngest child of The Cousin).

The Cousin's Brother did well to have two families staying in his house - five children in total.  I discovered that babies and beaches do not really mix well.  Sand picked up in tiny fists, shoved in mouth and eyes, followed by screaming and wiping.  Then five minutes later the process starts again.  Needless to say Jonty and I spent about half the time at the beach as the others, but managed to have a good time nonetheless.  The boys had a ball.  Lots of marine exploration with The Accountant.

One of our favourite days was going to Magic Mountain.  A feast of waterslides and other rides in a bush setting with tall trees giving us shade all day.  Much fun and hilarity.

The Accountant and I went out for dinner one night with friends who live in Merimbula.  Afterwards we were having a drink at a Tapas bar.  I pictured this bar to be something like Kazbar in Oxford.  It was nothing like it, but good fun all the same.  As we stood outside the bar we watched three cars go by at various interludes.  Our friend said "Three cars tonight.  Usually you don't even have to look when you cross the road".

Another country town incident involved about eight teenage boys on a beach holiday, strolling down the street after closing time and getting very excited about a cockroach on the street corner.  One of them picked up the offending insect and promptly ate it whilst his friends filmed with their iPhones - ready for Youtube.  You heard it here first.