Remotely Weird

Although we headed away for Christmas, we did have the traditional Christmas lunch of relatives and relatives-who-aren't-related (RWAR) before we left.

There were people in this household who were campaigning strongly for a live Christmas tree for the occasion - and I was resisting - hard! There's nothing worse than coming home from a beach holiday, dealing with a laundry full of sand AND a crispy dead Christmas tree that the local rubbish collectors will NOT pick up.

There were mutterings that the house didn't feel very Christmassy, so I threw a few decorations around, including a lovely red bauble on our resident fake palm tree and dared them to disagree that it didn't scream 'Christmas!!"

Recognising that part of the illusion is the smell of pine, I hatched what I thought was a very cunning plan: I ordered fake candles online for the summer-empty fireplace and got Elle to duck up to Central Park where the Scouts sell Christmas trees and fling them a few bucks for some offcuts. The effect was as I'd hoped - a lush green bed, emitting the smell of Christmas with flickering candles - but sadly, I failed to take a photo - so you'll have to take my word for it.

Anyway, like so many things online these days, the wax candles with 'life-like flames' arrived with a dodgy remote. Seriously - not that hard to turn the on/off switch on the base - and I've recently discovered if you don't actually switch them off, they chew through batteries like there's no tomorrow.

The novelty of the remote wasn't lost on me, so I gave it go - and the strangest thing happened (no, it didn't just 'work'!! - in fact, as suspected, it was a bit hit and miss). When I turned the candles on - it kinda worked, but I had to hit the 'on' button a few times and get close enough that I might as well have just use the bloody switch! However, when I turned them off, watch the video to see what Shanequa (the robot vac) did....

Riddle me that!!!

The season of goodwill... except at Chadstone Shopping Centre car park

What on earth was I thinking??

We're at liberty to go to Chadstone any day of the week, but Elle and I chose last Saturday afternoon, in the lead up to Christmas on a day of severe weather warnings and possible flooding to head to the self-promoted 'fashion capital'.

Naturally, the car park was hideous.

I told Elle that in these circumstances, the best strategy is to stop just inside one of the lanes and sit it out until you spot someone leaving. Driving around doesn't work as you continuously 'just miss' a spot.

So we sat.

An Audi 4WD pulled right up behind me so I popped my indicator on. I could see the driver huffing in my rear vision mirror as she pulled around me - but didn't expect the spray:

You can't stop there! She screamed at me. Wow.

So taken aback, my instant response was to yell back You can!

You can't! She yelled again,

You can! I screeched back.

So Grade 4 - it was actually pretty funny.

Meanwhile, some people had returned to their car just in front of me and we parked.

As we walked over the next lane way, the Audi was approaching in the  slow line of traffic - still looking for a spot. My gaze held steady but the driver was deliberately busying herself with something in the centre console while her young daughter was left to give us a filthy look.

I hope they have a very happy Christmas!

The Gold Plated Cat

Gary is ginger - sort of gold - which makes sense given how much he's about to cost me.

In fairness, so far he's been a cheap ride. He was gifted to us by neighbours heading OS, he's happy to eat Aldi cat food and aside from immunisations and a bit of arthritis, his medical expenses have been minimal; until now.

He was looking very ordinary after the recent heatwave. In truth, over the last few months, he's been eating like a horse but getting skinnier and skinnier. 

Geoff: Do you think the cat has cancer?

Me: Maybe. But he seems happy enough. 

His lack of health on the weekend could not be ignored. I wasn't even convinced he'd see Monday.

Anyway, I did take him to the vet who ran through the options - including euthanising him. But if it was just a thyroid problem, that could be fixed and apparently we'd get a few more years out of him. To determine that he needed to be admitted and popped on a drip and have blood and urine samples taken. How much, I asked. I'd already decided if it was hundreds, I'd say yes but if it was more, goodbye Gary. Naturally it was something like $965. Damn it!! 

The vet added if he needed to stay longer, it's $3-400 a day. $3-400??!! The most expensive hotel I can find on LastMinute.com is only $338 a night - and that's at the fancy-pants casino - not in a very small cage at the suburban vet next to a big dog.

Sass and I visited him this morning and he has perked up considerably. She was so relieved. Here they are.

The vet rang before with news. I can't even decide if it's good or bad. I'm torn. It is his thyroid and possibly a little something else - but treatable with a tablet or two a day. Great, I said, should we pick him up? Of course it's not that simple. They need to keep him in for a few days and monitor him while they get the right level of medication - at $3-400 a day!!!! And if he has to take a tablet every day, we'll have to take him to South Australia with us - an 8 hour drive. 

Yep - the joy of Christmas.

It's a wonderful time of the year.

I love Christmas - the parties, the shopping, the food - what's not to love?

It's been a fairly cruisey lead up this year which has been very different. I'm all organised and ready to go - we even have the table set and I've been for a run.

I was at a party last week when a woman I'd only just met was sharing that due to her husband's recent retrenchment, they were all sorted and she was missing the 'week before Christmas drama'. It's not often you get such a candid confession. Most of the time we prefer to have a moan about how busy we are and how much there is to do - but in truth, it's fun.

The slower pace isn't bad though. I remember those far-too-few Christmases with four kids (including the toddler, the teenager and two in between), a corporate job that had me to be nailed to my desk until just before the day, going to 10 parties and breakups, buying 35 presents and hosting 22 on the day - ahhhhh - those where the days!

If you do find Christmas with the relatives all a bit much, perhaps you might like to recap my post of the tautology of dysfunctional families. Just to be assured how normal you are.

Anyway, wishing everyone a very merry Christmas - enjoy1

Is more 'more' at Christmas?

We've not had Christmas at home for a few years - we were in Japan last year, at my folks the year before, Cambodia the year before that. So it is with much excitement that this year we're home!

I'm actually at risk of being a 'bah humbug', but the decorations have reached a frenzy.

Geoff and Sass came back from the hardware store ladened with cheap landfill from China. I know I should let it go but the Greenie in me was so appalled that I was compelled to voice my objection, only to be told by Sass that I was mean and that she'd be a lot happier if I just went away and she and Dad could continue their merry (junk-filled) journey without me! (Yes, I probably did deserve that).

But there are now so many lights on the front of our house, I'll bet we're a beacon to those in outer space.

The internally lit, fan-assisted, inflatables. Can't wait for the power bill!

However, I also realised that I could be accused of being a hypocrite as I recently purchased these deer for the woodlands scene I have going on, on the kitchen table. 

Aren't they adorable? Okay - they're also incredibly kitch but I am fond of a bit (or a lot!) of kitch!

So maybe it's more of the style of Geoff and Sass's crap that I'm objecting to?

Still - the question remains; is it possible to overdo Christmas??

It's Beginning To Look A Bit Like Christmas

Check the date people - that's right - August 28th. AUGUST!!!

So I was at Coles this afternoon and look what I spied?? An entire stack of Christmas Mince Pies.

I had some Christmas cards years ago that said 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...' on the front and inside, '.... and it has been in the department stores since September'

Well, this is proof - it's not just our imagination - it is coming around faster every year.

Happy New Year!

For many today (or yesterday depending on when I get this out!) will have been your first day back in the office. Another reason I'm loving working at home - although best I start focusing more of the kind of work that pays, as opposed to trying to get this house sorted!

It's been a busy break - Christmas day, roast pork and the excitement of Santa, turkey dinner on Boxing Day because my brother couldn't make it for the actual day and then Geoff's birthday on the 27th. We headed home from South Australia on the 30th for a night of rest before heading up to Ruffy to a friend's farm for New Year - and what a party! We kicked on until 2am - including Sass - which was loads of fun until about 5.30am the next morning when the sun hit the tent we'd pitched in their garden. Within about 30 minutes, it must have been 40 degrees. Geoff had bailed at about 30 degrees but at six, I dragged my sleeping bag and pillow out of the tent and into the shade of a hedge for a little more shut-eye. Sass appeared shortly there after and I suggested she check on her sister and her friend Charlotte, who were both in 'onsies' (those silly in all one sleeping outfits usually reserved for the under two's as anyone older is in grave danger of a huge wedgie), in sleeping bags, under a 'mink' (ie 100% polyester and very heavy and hot) blanket in a tent reaching sauna-esque temperatures - just to see that hadn't expired and perhaps, at least drag the blanket off them.

Back in town, the 'gathering of gear' for the year away at boarding school for Eleanor began. Like many women I know, I quite enjoy a shop, but after two days of buying hiking gear, underwear, a sleeping bag liner (that's what we needed on NYE to absorb the sweat!!), toiletries, linen, trail shoes, water bottles, a compass, blah blah blah.... even I had had enough! Now I need to sew name tags on about 8,000 items and she'll be ready to go. She and my adopted daughter Frankie have sewn on quite a few but Frankie's gone back to Sydney and Eleanor is doing Surf Life Saving Cadets down the coast, so it'll be up to me. My gorgeous friend Penny B has offered to help - bless!

And interjected into this period of 'relaxation' was Elle's 14th and Sass's 7th birthdays. Geoff bought Sass a laptop - yes - that's right, a full fledged, Windows 7 laptop. She was straight onto eBay - ahhhhh!!

And we've also had time to have a go at dipping the girls' nails in vodka and then pressing newsprint onto them - it really does work! It'd be better with foreign language print - but we only had The Age. You need to press quite hard and then add a clear top coat. Check them out.

Elle's 

Frankie's

Good Help

The old adage is true; it’s hard to get good help.

I know I’m spoilt when it comes to having assistance on the domestic front, but I do have exacting standards (although you’d never know it looking at the state of my desk at work…)

We had a domestic goddess a while back who’d clean, wash, fold, put everything back where it went, rearrange the linen cupboard, refold and colour coordinate every thing in my wardrobe and on occasion, even throw dinner in the oven on her way out. Then she moved.

Our current cleaners are lovely, lovely people. When they first started, they said to just write anything down that needed doing. What I quickly discovered is their grip on the local language is as tenuous as a wet bar of soap. One minute they seem to have a fairly firm grip, the next it’s completely shot out of their grasp.

I did leave them a note, once, asking if they could put the clean washing back in the cupboard. They said they’d seen a note but couldn’t read my writing. Seriously, I had printed like a 12-year-old high school girl, so don’t think typing it in 36 point would have actually help.

Nearly every doona is in its cover side ways, there are single sheets on the queen sized bed and dust thick enough to grow tomatoes on the bookshelves.

Last night I noticed the spider webs on the ceiling fan in our bedroom are now so elaborate, I’m torn between attending to them myself or just spraying them silver for Christmas.

But the bathrooms are clean, their folding is so good it’s slashed my ironing bill and they are lovely, lovely people. Where did I put that can of silver spray paint??

Christmas

Christmas. There; I’ve typed it. And I can almost refrain for reaching for a brown paper bag to control my hyperventilating.

Don’t you think Christmas is the ultimate test for the working mother? It’s like it taunts you, ‘you’ve made it this far in the year, but can you handle.… Christmas??’

Last year I decided it’d be a good idea to spend this Christmas with my brother and his family in the Middle East. He works for an airline so we can mostly get pretty good deals. But as it’s turned out, Christmas is kinda busy, so the cheapest way to get my partner and kids there is via the really, really cheap (ie cramped/no movies) airline to Kuala Lumpa and a connecting flight to the Middle East. What I failed to realise until yesterday, was the far cheaper way for me to get there, is first class with my brother’s airline.

I pondered how to break the news and decided a message on Partner’s phone would be best. ‘So, just realised….’ I started, and ended with ‘..really, no, really, I’m only doing this to save us money.’

It’s not quite finalised, but the picture so far is him and kids, hoping there’s something decent left on that food trolley when it finally makes its way to them, while I’m in my own suite, with a bed and French champagne.

Yes, I feel bad. I will get over it. It really is just to help the budget...