The sample

 If you're like me, the word 'sample' conjures up images of tiny bottles of shampoo, perfume and body lotion, or tasty morsels stabbed through with toothpicks and proffered by middle-aged women in branded aprons at the supermarket.

But no - in this instance, I'm referring to urine.

Now that I'm of a certain age, I'm obliged to go to the GP for an annual check-up. That happened a few weeks back, but apparently, my urine sample was 'contaminated' (that doesn't bear dwelling on) and needed to be repeated.

I was back at work so getting away from my desk to get it done took a few weeks, so I rang first to make sure the local clinic was still expecting me - but really to save the embarrassment of having to announce my purpose at the none-too-private reception. They said sure, come on up.

Turns out the call was a wasted effort. When I got there, I still had to tell them - loudly due to both face masks and a barrier to force social distancing - why I was there. I was handed a specimen jar and told to bring it back to reception.  What?? Normally you drop it in a hutch at pathology and job done. 

I did question it, but she insisted she needed pathology to organise labels, so I needed to bring it back.

Having collected said sample, I slunk back to reception, trying desperately to be nonchalant about the entire ordeal. A man was talking with my receptionist so I was forced to loiter, sample in the jar in a clear zip-lock bag at my side - for what felt like an hour. The man suddenly turned to me to point out the other receptionist was off the phone and now free. I sidled over. Of course, then I had to explain, loudly, the whole thing again. 'And what's your name?' she asked. There went any possible anonymity that my mask may have provided in the now almost full waiting room. She called pathology - I waited - and was finally instructed to go and drop it in the hutch.

As I returned to reception, she flagged me over to ask me to write my name on a Post-it note. When I turned around, I heard 'MWW! Hi! How are you?'  and there was a mum from school, who I'm very fond of, right behind me in the waiting room with her three kids, including one of Sass's friends.  O..M..G. They MUST have witnessed this entire event! I chatted briefly (not mentioning the wee situation) and when another mum arrived who she knew and I didn't, made my escape.

I know I shouldn't be embarrassed - but I was!!!

Use Of Force

Some great things came out of the long, seven-month winter lock-down here in Melbourne and one of those highlights was this podcast.

                                           

Written and narrated by my brilliantly creative friend Sarah, and produced with our old friend David, it's no wonder it shot up the Australian Apple podcast popularity list with a bullet.

Here's the blurb:

Female ex-cop reveals a world of violence, intimidation and lawlessness - and that was just in the office. 
Never intended for release, 18 months of intimate phone conversations with a woman who was nearly destroyed by the police brotherhood. A toxic mix of corruption, misogyny and high-risk offenders. 

Just six episodes - most around 30 minutes - it'll leave you stunned at how naive we've all been about what actually happens inside these bastions of patriarchy. 

I know many of my friends from adland got onto this early, but if you missed it, click on your preferred platform below to start listening.

Apple Podcasts

Spotify

Google

And a particular shout out to readers outside Australia, please share!! It'd be great for this to get the global recognition it deserves!

Vale my beautiful Frelative

Are you lucky enough to have a 'frelative'? That's the term I've coined in honour of this amazing woman, Theresa or to me, simply T.

I first met T in 1988 when I started in advertising. We weren't particularly close but she was friendly and smart, and kind to the trainee (that was me).

T married Peter, who was also in advertising. The industry in Melbourne is a fairly small circle so perhaps it wasn't that surprising that a few years later, Peter was my boss. He was charismatic, ambitious and very good looking! Because we lived in adjoining suburbs, he'd regularly offer me a lift home as an alternative to taking the train, which I readily accepted. Tragically, Peter died in a car accident before he was 40. T never re-partnered - he was, literally, the love of her life.

It was after that terrible event that we became close. Not just T and me, but our families, including her and Peter's three beautiful children, Frankie, Gabi and Gianni.

We quickly became the 'relatives who aren't related', sharing family dinners, birthday celebrations, Christmas get-togethers, brunches and more.

Frankie would have sleepovers, babysit the kids, play dress ups, do craft, come on fun runs  with Elle and me - I often refer to her as my fifth or 'acquired' child. She spoke at both Jaz and Georges' funerals. Gabi also babysat and recently, our work paths collided with colleagues saying 'oh, right - so you're Gabi's aunt!' - yeah - pretty much! Geoff and Gianni share a love of music and have gone to many a concert together.

T used to collect George and take him to watch Gianni play basketball every week for a season or two. At that stage of George's life, he was wheelchair-bound and spent most of his weekends hanging out with us - so he absolutely loved these outings.

T was so thoughtful. We'd come home from holidays and find bread, milk and other essentials at the front door. Anniversaries, birthdays and life events were always acknowledged - for example, a tub of ice-cream dropped over for George's birthday after he'd died - because we all knew how much he'd loved ice-cream!! She'd often text to say she's dropped off a nut butter or new vegan chocolate or some other amazing product she's discovered because she wanted to share her find.

My friends loved T. She had the most incredible ability to recall the details of people's lives - because she was genuinely interested. She'd see someone a year later and ask how their son's uni course was going or how they'd enjoyed their holiday to the States. It was incredible.

We went to the same gym so before lockdown, I'd see her a couple of times a week - often in the same Spin class.

I don't have a sister, but T was as close as I think you'd get. The conversation was always unedited, she was always there if I needed anything - a kid picked up, dropped off, looked after - but there was never any obligation; which is what made it feel like family.

T was taken way too soon. Her loss of Peter so early in their life only consolidates the unfairness. But as we all know, life isn't fair and bad luck doesn't make you immune from more bad luck. 

So vale my beautiful frelative and I so hope you've been reunited with Peter. xx

The Endurance Quest

Have you ever toyed with the idea of an endurance quest? You know the type, walking from Brisbane to Sydney, riding your bike across the Nullabor, going it alone through Siberia? The type of undertaking that challenges your resilience and mental strength to just keep going?

Well, if you live in Melbourne, you can pretty much tick that box.

We have now officially had the longest, harshest lockdown in the world - and it's still going.

You may be wondering why I haven't used this time to post more. That's because NOTHING has been happening!! #isobored  In fact, I have ventured out so infrequently, I've only refuelled my car once since March - ONCE!!!

Way back in March, when this shit-storm started, there was some novelty to being locked down. I ironed, cleaned windows, sorted out cupboards, did some jigsaws, cooked a lot - the things everyone was doing. This was followed by a little reprieve; we had dinner with friends, I went to the gym, had my nails done - there was hope in the air. Now, I can't even be entirely sure of the sequence of events but next thing, we were back in Stage Three, which then rapidly escalated to Stage Four for six weeks, which has now only slightly eased for yet an additional two weeks.

Friends who I've always thought of as stoic, resilient and community-minded are losing it. People who have shown no interest in politics are screaming at the TV when further announcements are made and posting things on social media that is sparking debate on how this has been handled. This is officially a hot mess - and we're all on the Coronacoaster.

Various recent comments implied that people not living here don't get it. They ask the right questions but don't really comprehend the depth of distress Melbournians are experiencing. It reminds me of unpaid family carers - that passion of mine. I once described caring - the 24/7 high-needs type - as a 'perpetual ordeal'. And, like lockdown, it's not to say it doesn't have its moments of joy, but you're always hypervigilant, awaiting the next inevitable catastrophe or bad news event.

I know I shouldn't complain. People have died, others are suffering incomprehensible financial distress and front line health workers are exhausted. I often think of those shut up in tiny apartments with lots of small children, home-schooling and allowed out for only an hour a day (now two....). Many people are physically trapped in a crumbling relationship - the requests to lawyers for divorce is up 40% - and that doesn't even touch on the soaring domestic violence. 

So there you have it. I am trying to focus on the positive this week and stop my endless complaining. So far, not good. I'm cracking on with another jigsaw, learning Spanish and completing a certificate in Governance and Risk Management - but what I'm really missing is people!! Coffee, meetings, drinks, strategy days, workshops, dinners - I can't wait until I again have places to be, and people to see. 

The Kmart Kart Game

Given here in Melbourne we're back in lockdown, you'd think I'd be churning out blog posts - but there's really so little going on there's not much to write about. Until now.

I've been after these black, glass-topped side tables from Kmart for months. They'll be perfect for your cuppa (yeah, okay - wine!) when watching the endless hours of Netflix/Stan/SBS/FTA... and they're $39. What's not to love?

They've been out of stock for months. When we weren't locked down, I even checked in-store, where empty shelves across many categories confirmed reports that the supply chain - mostly from China - has been affected by COVID.

Elle and I have been checking online from time to time to see if they're back and weren't we thrilled to see them - yay! I popped them in my cart and then realised I needed to get to $45 to qualify for free shipping. I needed to get something upwards of $6 - how hard could that be? And here's where the game started.

Underwear in our sizes was out of stock. We tried a hair clasp. The process is that you need to add the item to your cart and then attempt the checkout - that's when you discover the hair clasp is out of stock, Damn. Next was a cheap fashion necklace, then another - nope, both out of stock.

I know, I thought, a book! I Googled bestsellers,  a  couple of reviews - time was ticking and my tables were waiting. Elle was getting panicky. I threw one in the cart and proceeded to check out - the book was out of stock. I chose another - same deal. I selected a random title - also out of stock. Clearly, there are no books in stock.

What else, I  pondered? I know! A new laundry basket! The handles on my tubs are broken - I could do with a  new one - and, miracle, it was in stock!! I checked out and was beside myself with a deep sense of achievement - tables, free shipping and a random laundry basket.

My elation lasted until the next day when I received an email from Kmart to advise that my tables were out of stock and that they'd issued me a refund. Next was an email from Australia Post to say my parcel from Kmart was on its way. And here it is.

No tables but a $12 laundry basket (free shipping) I probably could have lived without. Never mind.

Powering Down

Other than acquiring some new and whacky hobbies over iso, I've also used the opportunity to pay more attention to that fun, family activity - finances!!

Top of the list was the electricity bill. 

I'm with a supplier that nattily tracks our expenditure and compares it to our average. Now I appreciate that we've all been home and winter is upon us, but dear god, how could we spend so much?? In March and April, it was $30-40 a week, but in June, it just kept going up until we cracked $100. Now there's a PB no-one should be proud of.

The real mystery was why were the weekends less painful than weekdays when given our routine, every day is pretty much the same. Here's an example.

The obvious culprits when the weather turns are heating, hot water and the dryer - but to add to the mystery, in our house, those three are gas. 

I rang the energy company and discovered that the price of electricity during 'peak demand' costs more than DOUBLE off-peak. Added to the explanation is that 'peak' runs from 7am until 11pm. That's not PEAK - that's pretty much all of my waking hours!!

I believe some companies also have a 'shoulder' but I'm guessing when it's all said and done, it evens out to be the same; ridiculous!

And we might even pay higher rates in winter. I Googled that and couldn't find a clear answer. 

Can I just point out this is only electricity and that our solar is currently putting almost zip back into the grid.

In an attempt to stem this hemorrhaging of money, I:

• Reprogrammed the bathroom floor heating and pond filter to go hard between 5am and 6.50am
• Ran the dishwasher from 11pm
• Used the 'delay' button on the washing machine to run during the night (I'd wondered what that was for! Poor Gary the cat sleeps in the laundry and may not appreciate it - but as he's making no financial contribution to the household, tough luck!)

I have also attempted to get people to turn off lights as they leave a room - but that's still a work in progress.

Anyway, just with those changes, here's what happened! We've whittled $20 off it. And saved some carbon.

Not exactly a holiday but better in my pocket than theirs!

Painting by numbers

If you're anything like me, you've always pooh-poohed this style of art. In fact, I still don't think it is art - it's really just a different read on a puzzle.

Having literally just completed the second of two massive jigsaws - 1000 and 1500 pieces - the kids gave me an Aldi paint by numbers kit for Mother's Day. I also scored the Jacinda Ardern book, "A New Kind of Leader" and a plate of home-made jelly slice. Winner!!!

Mother's Day was back in early May, and I finished the painting yesterday. Here it is.

That, my friends, was a bloody marathon! Here are a couple of progress pictures, to prove I didn't snip the image off the front of the packet.

Yep - Gary walking over my 'masterpiece' and 

having a little drink from the brush water...

And for reference, here is the packet. I'd describe the outcome as more of a facsimile or a likeness, rather than an accurate depiction. And once you get into one of these, you quickly discover why.

Before embarking on this project, I näively assumed paint by numbers was as simple as working your way through the provided colours and fill in the spaces with that colour. How wrong I was! Yes, some colours are straight out of the pot, but others require mixing - and not just two, sometimes there are three.

The instructions said that if two numbers were indicated, mix in equal parts. So I was surprised to see areas requiring 10/6 abutted next to areas of 6/10. More confusing was that some of these complex colours mentioned numbers - like 26 and 19 -  that weren't supplied 😳.

To add to my frustration, being the rule follower that I am, on more than one occasion, the colour I mixed looked pretty bloody identical to a previous combination of different colours! At that point, I confess, there may have been some rouge, 'off-piste' and ad-lib painting.

Other issues included incredibly teensy-weensy areas and numbers. I don't normally wear reading glasses, but was forced to commandeer a pair of Geoff's x2 magnifying glasses to see what the heck was going on. What this also revealed was that once into the very detailed areas, some spaces were absent of numbers. (No - they weren't meant to be white as they were all numbered 1.) Couple that with the single 'one size does NOT fit all' brush that comes with the kit and the degree of difficulty is ramped up several notches. Here's an example, which I have blown up so much it's actually gone fuzzy - to make my point. 

So - would I recommend it as an iso-hobby? It's no better for your neck and back than a puzzle, it takes at least as long and ruined my thumb-nail opening those silly little pots, but a least with a jigsaw, once it's done, you can pop it back in the box and pass it along. What on earth do you do with a dodgy piece of 'art'??? I'm thinking about the recycling bin.