I'm living with reptile!

Before I get started on this cracking tale of incompetence, let me give a brief explanation of my patchy posting. I took on a fairly senior full-time job that was meant to be 'filling in' for two or three months. I thought this would be fine, as although I still had quite a few other commitments with other organisations, I could juggle - for a while!

As it transpired, said job has turned out to be quite a lot more than keeping the seat warm, and along with the other roles, it hasn't really allowed the brain-space to blog regularly and for that, I am sorry.

If I have any readers left - at all - hello!! And a special shout out to Ruth for the nudge on FB.

Back to the story....

So - COVID vaccinations. Where do you stand? I am pro-vax, but for some reason (probably the stats) my partner was very insistent - in fact, adamant - that he wanted Pfizer. Both being over fifty (yes, please act surprised!) we weren't eligible. Other than the remote chance of clotting (I do know you've got more chance of winning division one with the Powerball in the lottery, and that's not a strong argument), it was more around the level of protection. 

He said he was going to wait. I said I'd give it a few weeks and if I couldn't find the Pfizer, I'd be stepping up for the AZ. I rang a few places with no luck. And, as mentioned, I've been a tad busy...

And then, lo and behold, the government changed the rules to allow Pfizer for under 60s! I certainly didn't see that coming. To Geoff's credit, he got straight onto it, called some hotline and got us a booking - apparently on a cancellation. It was for Wednesday last week at precisely 8.41am. 

We got there a bit before 8am and while we waited, Geoff took a screengrab of the booking with the booking number. When we filed in, it was like an airport procedure! Hand sanitiser and mask instead of security, then driver's licence and Medicare card instead of passport control. We separated for this last bit and I confessed to the check-in person that I didn't have the booking number. The lady said fine, she could find my name. Hmmm, she said, they've spelt it wrong. Quite wrong as it turned out and my email was also incorrect.

Geoff seemed to be taking much longer.

After the jab, we met in the 'wait 15 minutes' bay and I asked why he'd been so long. He said he'd nearly been turned away as they couldn't find him in the system. Luckily he had his booking number where they discovered the person making the booking, instead of Geoff Clifford, had recorded his name as Geoff Lizard!! 

Needless to say, his email was also incorrect. I was reminded of the Starbuck's video, where employees deliberately spell your name wrong - just because they can! It's pretty funny... enjoy!

Natural Fitness

Do you think it exists? If it does, I don't have it.

But have you noticed how some people seem to have the ability to comfortably carry out long bursts of physical activity with seemingly no regular or relevant training? It's very annoying.

I live with two - possibly three - such people. The one I'm not allowed to blog about (Geoff) is probably the best candidate. He can surf, ride his bike, swim, walk for miles - all with ease - yet the only only time I've ever seen him run is when he set fire to the house (that's another story!). It's just not fair. This year he has been swimming weekly with Sass, training netball and doing weight training at the gym - but it seems fairly cruisey compared to my gruelling and clearly fruitless running.

As I've mentioned before, I am a crap runner. In fact, when this top appeared for sale in my FaceBook newsfeed, I wondered if someone had been spying on me. Never-the-less, it spoke to me so loudly, I was compelled to buy one.

I run...I'm slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter...but I run.

Having not run for months, Eleanor at least has the decency to let me beat her and look like she's about to puke - but only the once. After that, she seems to find her stride and come good - god damn her! In fairness, and as I point out to her, she does have youth on her side.

It does seem so unfair. If I take a couple of weeks off - even skiing or otherwise being very active - guaranteed during my next run I'll feel (and probably look) like a bag of wet cement.

Apparently some scientists think cats of all sizes purr to maintain fitness - maybe I should try and master that?!

But what do you think? Does natural fitness exist?

Keep Calm

Good advise for those who panic. Unfortunately it appears I have moved to the other extreme. It's not that I don't care but I suspect I've had enough real drama in my life so far to appreciate that panic is just not a helpful state - but perhaps I could, on occasion, try to ramp up the concern.

A message I don't need!

I know that there are plenty of people in the world who've done it much harder than my family - I'm fortunate to have that perspective. But compared to the average first world family (whatever that means), we've had more than our fair share of medical 'incidents'. I have had to call the ambulance more times that I can remember, administer drugs as serious as morphine and Valium (not to me, although it was very tempting at times), I've been summoned by the hospital day and night as 'medical emergencies' have been called on my children, I've stood by as they were intubated and transferred to ICU, rapidly declined and bounced back. I've learned to drive a ventilator, an oxygen extractor and a respiratory suction machine, I've dressed wounds, witnessed countless seizures, resuscitated non-breathers and performed CPR. And of course, I've seen death.

So perhaps it's not all that surprising that, as one of Geoff's friends says of me, 'She's battle worn'.

But last week, I excelled myself. Geoff called me just before 9am.

I've got the worst chest pains, it feels like someone's squeezing my heart. I'm just letting you know I'm going to the GP.

Good idea. I said, nonchalantly. Let me know how you go.

Geoff's brother had a cardiac arrest (ie no pulse, no breathing) on the basketball court a couple of years ago and was thankfully revived. At the time, Geoff had some tests and they appeared to be, well, passable. So there was reasonable cause for concern.

An hour later, Geoff phoned again.

They've called the ambulance. I've had an ECG and it's normal but I'm still in pain. They need to do some tests.

Righty-ho. 

I figure if he could talk on the phone, how bad could it be? I had a  moment of guilt and called back:

Do you want me to come to the hospital? 

He knew I didn't really mean it and said no, he'd be fine.

Lunch time. I'm at Di Stassio (a very fancy-pants restaurant for peeps not from these parts) with my business partner and a colleague. 

How's Geoff? enquires my well meaning colleague.

Shit! That reminds me.....I sent a text: "Are you still alive??! x"

He was.

He'd been admitted for more tests and given morphine for the pain, so I swung by with Sass and took a few essentials as requested - PJs, phone charger, book, glasses. We arrived to discover an old friend was his nurse! Oh, we nattered away and had a jolly good catch up - then I remembered why we were there -  Geoff! Sorry - you okay?? That's right - this is supposed to be about you!

Anyway, he spent 3 nights in hospital, had multiple tests to discover he doesn't need a stent, his ticker is just dandy and that it's either muscular or heart burn. So see, no need to panic.

Update on the lethal bag: Customs have refused to let it in. It's gone back to my friend in Thailand. I'm a little bit sad about that...

Oh Yeah Baby....

Seriously, the topic of lice goes on as long as... well, as long as we continue to be infested with lice. I hope you're not bored yet, but this is a ripper.

You might recall from earlier posts that I did some research and discovered heat is the enemy of the nit and its egg. It was subsequently discussed by all and sundry in the neighbourhood.

Next thing, Geoff is telling me he can buy a device on eBay that will kill all the lice in half an hour while Sass just watches TV (or I watch TV - depending who's infested I guess) - for just $50. What?

So after the usual back and forth of me saying we need more junk around here like a moose needs a hat rack and Geoff saying why don't we give it a go, I acquiesced and the devise was purchased.

And looked what turned up? I know retro is in and this is a very stylish carry case, but the hairdryer inside - hilarious!

My mum, who's not one to reveal her age (she's a couple of footy seasons off 80) had one of these when I was growing up in a small country town. People, this appliance personified sophistication, modern technology and city chic in a single, small(ish). white zip-up case. Wow. It was a sight to behold. I was actually quite proud when friends were over and mum was zipping around from power point to power point with her head stuck in that flowery cap and the blower slung casually over her shoulder, banging on her hip. Kind of like those cool bike couriers you see around the city with their Crumpler bags.... yeah, maybe not like that!

She stuck it on my head a couple of times, but it was hot and uncomfortable.

So - back from 1972  - and here we are in 2013. Geoff sent me this pic of Sass while I was in Thailand for work (that didn't happen in the 70s I can assure you - but neither were there 7 year-olds surfing the net on their laptops).

When I got back from 16-lice-free days in Thailand, I reckon it was barely hours before I was scratching again. Ahhhh! So desperate was I that I actually dragged out the Ronson and slapped it on my head for a good 45 minutes. (I used to laugh that my mother always said a good 45 minutes - surely 45 minutes is just 45 minutes? I am becoming my mother....) It was as hot and uncomfortable as I rememebered it way back in 1972. But guess what? It didn't work! That's right.... after all that discomfort, I was still scratching. I think the bugs probably just enjoyed the little steam room spa treament.

Still giving.

Last Friday night, my folks were in town and offered to take us to dinner - my choice. In the interest of ease and being agreeable, I booked The Club at 6.30pm. A little later than they like but do-able.

At 5.40pm on the day, the phone rang.
Dad: "What time will you be here?"
MWW: "I've just walked in the door. Elle's just walked in. Geoff's in the shower - I guess we were thinking we'd leave about ten past six....."
He explained they'd been upgraded to some 'retreat' section of The Club and part of the attraction was free drinks from 5.30pm.

Now it needs to be said that my parents (and us too for that matter) are well able to pay for our own drinks, but it does prove yet again that everyone loves something for free.

"Well, just get here as soon as you can," he implored. But that wasn't the end. "What time do you think you could get here? I'll need to meet you in the lobby because you can't get up here on your own - you need to be a member." Oh, the exclusivity!
"About ten past six?" I ventured. That seemed to do it.

We scurried about, getting ready and piled in the car. The parking gods were on our side and we nabbed a park on the street not far from the entrance. The meter needed $4 of coin. It was my second trip into town for the day, so my spare coin was a little light. Luckily, Sass had brought her purse, so between the two of us, we got the required amount. I hit "OK" and immediately realised I just paid for for the BMX X5 in Bay One ahead of us and our Bay Two was still sitting on 'Expired'. Bloody hell!!

We started collecting coins again, digging into the depths of my hand bag and suggesting to Elle that she write a note to said BMW owner in the hope of them being grateful. We got to $3.80 and I was just mustering up the final 5c pieces when the owner of the car in Bay One arrived back, jumped in his car and drove off!!! I asked Geoff if he wanted to drive up a bay but at that stage we'd all lost interest so I shoved in the last 20c and hit "OK" again and we rushed off to find Dad awaiting our arrival.

I hope someone got to enjoy the $4 of parking courtesy of MWW!

Here are my other acts of unconscious generosity - here.

They're baaaack.....

Lice. I am absolutely feed up with the little blighters. Bad enough that Sass has them - but now so do I! I have been itching and scratching for days.

I've been working on a charity event with girlfriends over the weekend and after a quick kiss hello - if I've forgotten - I did announce that I in fact, have lice, so maybe keep your distance.

Saturday night; pizza, a couple of glasses of red, relaxed, so I slipped into the bathroom and lather my head up with olive and tea tree oil before sliding it all into a plastic shower cap. Boy, Geoff was in for a treat!!! (In fact he was in bed and snoring by the time I got there - perhaps just as well!)

Sunday morning and Sass is also still scratching despite a treatment on Friday. I do her hair with the oil 'blend' and comb out more of the little suckers. I have a crack at combing mine - and lose two of my purple hair extensions!!!! Not happy. I only had them adjusted about three weeks ago - how very - bloody - annoying!! Still, I did manage to scrape out a few lice as well, so not a total loss. I then hair dried to the point my scalp was burning and straightened to kill any eggs.

And within a couple of hours.... yep, scratching. Bugger.

Two, sad, oily purple extensions that slipped out of my hair :(

'About a grand...'

When Geoff and I renovated about fifteen years ago, (well, Geoff renovated and I gave instructions) we were struck by how many things cost 'about a grand'.

How much extra for those different windows?
How much for that pond?
How much to get those lights put in?
How much is that oven?

Seriously - I was starting to say it before I was even told, 'About a grand.'

The air-conditioning packed it in a few weeks back (you can see where this is going can't you?) and the repair guy arrived moments after the cool change  - of course. Melbourne has had the longest heatwave on record and we had no aircon.

It needs a new part, that costs 'About a grand.'

We're currently having some drawings done for the next round of renovations and I have a sneaking suspicion that ten years later, that 'about a grand' will now be music to my ears. I'm very afraid....

Neil vs Paul

On Monday night Geoff, his best mate Charlie and I went to see Neil Finn and Paul Kelly in concert at The Palais. It was hot, it was a Monday, I was tired but is was amazing! Well, half of it was anyway. Which let to this discussion on the walk back to the car.

Me: Half of that was great! The other half was.. meh..
Boys: How can you say that?
Me: Paul Kelly should seriously not have agreed to that concert. He just embarrassed himself.
Boys: What?! He's a genius! Okay, he may not have such a great voice but his songs are legendary
Me: No they're not. How can you compare songs with lyrics about making gravy and falling asleep in the back of the car as a kid to Neil Finn's sublime poetry?
Boys: That 'gravy' song is about Christmas! It's gold. That will be the 'Silent Night' in 50 years time. You mark my words.
Me: I very much doubt that ....

Yes, Paul sang about the clock on the silo saying 11 degrees (which was ironic given it was 40 degrees in the hall) and we all know it was a Silver Top taxi that took him t her door, all very local and heartfelt and nostalgic but hardly comparable. Let me demonstrate:

Here's a few words from Paul:

Guess the brothers are driving down from Queensland and Stella's 
flying in from the coast 
They say it's gonna be a hundred degrees, even more maybe, but that 
won't stop the roast 

Who's gonna make the gravy now? 
I bet it won't taste the same 

Just add flour, salt, a little red wine and don't forget a dollop of 
tomato sauce for sweetness and that extra tang 

And a few from Neil:

I'm really close tonight
And i feel like I'm moving towards you
Been lying in the dark
But i think that I'm beginning to know you
Let it go
I'll be waiting when you call

And whenever i fall at your feet
You let your tears rain down on me
Whenever i touch your slow turning pain

And a short, very dodgy, sideways  clip I took, but is about the sounds anyway... (If you receive this post via email, you do need to pop onto my blog site to see the videos...)

Am I being harsh?? Come one people, defend Paul Kelly if you dare!