In fact, Elle said if she was ever asked about my hobbies, vacuuming would top the list.
And Sass (not to be outdone) said if she had to nominate her parents' occupations, then Geoff is a builder, and I'm a vacuumer.
They all get very annoyed with me, but I like to have some vague feeling of order about the house and just because they're sleeping, watching TV or on the phone - I take no heed - and vacuum on!
Geoff bought it at great expense, and I must confess, to begin with, I was skeptical - now I can't leave the damned thing alone. It's just so handy!!
So, when the girls were cleaning Elle's car, and she ran over it - twice - I completely lost it at her. I'd probably have been calmer if it'd been the cat. God knows what the neighbours thought, but I dredged up my angriest of angry mother voices and let fly.
Geoff taped its poor broken head, but it does now tend to cut out fairly regularly. But like a mother with an empty pram, I keep moving it around until it eventually kicks back into gear.
Unusually, Elle had cause to use the stick vac recently, and I was speechless when she dared complain that the cutting in and out business was really annoying....
The renovation is finally underway, and the first task is to clear out the excess of 'stuff' (I'm using the term generously!) that's accumulated the last couple of decades.
It's highlighted how easy it is to buy - click a button, pop your details in and voila! Disposing? Not so simple.
I have stuff on eBay and Gumtree. I even Googled the legality of listing on both (you can). We have art and furniture and collectables and light fittings and god knows what else to get rid of. I didn't realise it was possible, but I actually maxed out with the value of what I was selling on eBay in a single month - so I started listing more crap on Geoff's account! We've become quite good at it - the app is the way to go.
Sass had a stall out the front last weekend. The mandarins and oranges from the trees in the garden, which we also had excess of, were quick to sell out. She managed to move a bit of junk, but geez, there's loads more.
Overwhelmed, I jumped online and booked a Camberwell market stall. We've culled CDs, DVDs, (do we really need any of either??), books, photo frames, video games, prints and goodness knows what else. Lucky it's a few weeks away as it'll give us time to gather even more.
Things have been priced to sell, and still, buyers want to screw you down. I listed a mahogany filing cabinet for $200 and got $160. Do you know how much we paid for that? Geoff asks, affronted, every time I get excited that something else has sold. I tell him I don't want to know. But he often does. Oh well.
I'm even agreed to drop a chair to Werribee to a buyer this long weekend - just to get rid of it.
Everything that's staying is being stacked into the garage, and I'm sure at some stage, we'll be living in there too!
How long do you think this will take? I asked Geoff, the builder on this project. I reckon Christmas, he replied. It didn't escape my attention that he didn't specify which one.
Where are we putting the fish tank? Geoff asked. eBay? suggested Elle quietly - not really joking.
So Proof-Reader-Penny and I are dragging our families to the north of the northern hemisphere at the end of the year. Yep – the middle of their winter, with 4 hours of daylight and temperatures that could be as low as minus 30.
Such an adventure requires a top-up of the thermals and snow gear and what better time to do that than the famous Aldi ski sale?
Being virgins to such an event, our strategy was to start queueing a bit before 7.30am. Aldi opens at 8.30 and we figured we should get in a hair before those who thought lining up an hour before would be a good idea.
Penny got there before me and sent a text: she was at the front and there was no-one else there.
By the time the doors opened, it was packed.
As the roller doors were being raised, I started my 'snatch and grab' warm up routine. Sass told me to cut it out - no one was laughing. Not true. I was!
There'd already been words between an older, thin woman who'd apparently come early, gone away, come back and slotted back in behind us in the queue. A younger, larger women (I make this observation only because there's no way they'd be buying the same sized stuff) was not happy with this and let her know it. They bickered on for the next 15 minutes - so ridiculous.
In we went and it was surreal - people ran! They grabbed. They tried to sneak each other's stuff and that drew more words. It was quite the experience.
Stupidly, having gotten what we needed and loaded it into the car, I went back to do the grocery shopping. There were people trying on pants in front of the canned tomatoes, people leaning on the cleaning products trying on boots - the mayhem reigned on.
Back there today, there was still quite a bit of gear left - and not a sausage fighting for it.
I honestly think I was a better parker before I got a reversing camera.
I read an article on self-parking cars once, that concluded the best course of action was, in fact, to learn to park.
When I drove a van, that I think only had rear sensors, I was an excellent parker, but now I often seem to make a meal of it.
And as if my assessment wasn't enough, one of the chicks I used to row with was dropping her daughter at Sass's school to coach netball and had this generalisation to share about the mothers:
They're in their big black four-wheel drives, with all their cameras and beepy things - and none of them can park for shit.
Now, I'm sure that's not everyone - but it is me!!
My grandmother had a pianola. When we were growing up and learning piano, it came to our place. And eventually, Dad had it restored and it arrived at our house about 20 years ago.
As things panned out, neither my siblings nor I were harbouring any musical talent. We looked, we tried, yeah - no. Same with my kids. They all had a shot.
Elle did group keyboard lessons in primary school. She was pretty bad, so I called the people who ran them and asked if we should have a crack with a term of private lessons. They told me to save my money!
Even though you don't need to be able to play, I reckon we've used the pianola less that once a year and with the pending renovations, it had to go.
I emailed my parents, uncle and brothers and asked if anyone wanted it, otherwise we'd be donating it to an aged care facility where I'm sure far more people will enjoy it.
My brother in Dubai, who's just downsized, offered me a Casio keyboard, should I want a replacement - I don't!
Dad called the aged care facility in the small country town where we all grew up and where the pianola had spent its formative years. They were happy to take it. Yay! I did quip that Dad could have first dibs on the play list when he moves in there - which he didn't think was nearly as funny as I did!!
Dad also arranged for the removalists who did a great price because we were donating it. They were meant to be here at 4pm on Friday - which would have been perfect as I was out - but they were late. Dang! We were going out so Geoff jumped in the shower at 5.15pm and the removalists arrived at 5.17pm. I told him to get out!
These were not your piano removal experts - just two guys and a truck - without a hoist, just a small trolley and a ramp. See, this is why I'd hoped not to be here. The process was so precarious, the poor old pianola groaned and complained quite a lot, the language of the blokes was explicit and getting out was a tight squeeze. I couldn't hang around. In fact, I had to go down to the shed and distract myself with work I was so anxious.
Finally, Geoff came in, collecting some beers for the equally traumatised removalists and saying even he couldn't believe they managed to get it onto the truck in one piece. (Geoff's usually pretty confident about such things.)
We also sent all the rolls; more fox trots than you can shake a stick at, and some more 'contemporary' ones like Elton John, Neil Diamond, The Beatles, Abba and Elvis. Something for everyone in that lot! I only hope they can get it of the truck in one piece at the other end so they can play them!!
Anyway - I did get a little footage of John Lennon's Imagine, in case I ever miss it!
BTW, if you're unfamiliar with a pianola, it's a piano that can also mechanically play by itself, powered by bellows that you pump by pedalling.
This place is just down the road from us - a couple of doors up from the wine bar.
Geoff and I had been at the tile shop a couple of weeks ago (yes, that renovation is finally getting underway!) to pick up some samples and I commented that the line "As a soft touch for getting you back to life" makes no sense at all.
I was a bit surprised when I was walking to the Post Office yesterday to see it had been shut down by the police for operating as a brothel. Those signs stuck on with red tape are from Victoria Police and the Magistrates Court. I won't post close-ups - even though it's clearly public - because it names the accused.
So why only a bit surprised? It's certainly not the first.
Myrna's Relaxation Centre popped up in the strip more than ten years ago. Retail around here mostly consists of high-end antique shops, a florist, interior designers, upmarket gift and homeware stores and more recently, a myriad of cafes. I was suspicious of Myrna's from the start. Their front window was adorned with dated lace curtains and plastic flowers - not very day spa-like.
The owner of Myrna's saw Geoff in his work truck and asked if he could install a basin upstairs. He did and later confirmed that it was in fact, a front for an S&M brothel that had an array of racks, whips and other equipment upstairs.
What was surprising was when not long after, our neighbours came over one Friday night for fish and chips, small children in tow, and the guy casually asked if either of us had had a massage at Myrna's? (Dear god.)
As it happened, when he went in and asked for said massage, he was asked how 'hard' he likes it. He conceded he did indeed like it firm. They then asked if he liked it to 'hurt', to which he looked aghast and said 'No!' At that point, they realised he had no idea what was actually going on there so he got your straight forward massage. He was so impressed with it, that he went home and told his wife that she really should pop in and have one, too!
We enlightened him as to the true business going on at Myrna's and suddenly that strange exchange made perfect sense.
Anyway, back to yesterday.
I sent Geoff a text about the massage shop above and later that afternoon, when he was returning the tile samples, he spotted two more.
I had seen these places but had noted nothing more than the Kmart bedside tables in the window.
Speaking to some passing friends from the 'hood yesterday, we agreed that if there are brothels around this area, we really don't care, as long as they're licensed, regulated and the workers properly cared for. But I was surprised when one said she'd read in the paper that they'd had underage girls working there. Geoff confirmed he heard the same thing from the owner of the tile shop. And that's not funny.
Slavery in Australia's sex industry is apparently rife so I can only hope that with these raids and closures, any girls not there of their own free will have been liberated. It's shocking.
