New Year's Eve Eve

I just had 4 days with my parents - which wasn't ventworthy as it went rather well, all considered.

We went for an outing.

Dad got someone to have breakfast with each morning.

I fed the chooks.

Time stood still - but it also entered warps because the clock that chimes runs 15 minutes ahead because that is the way that it goes. Except that at some point it lost time so nobody was sure what it really meant when it chimed.

I had a LIST.

I did the floors.

I reorganised bookshelves and sorted paperwork.

I harvested silverbeet.

Large pile of silverbeet - cheese slice for scale

I made meals in the theme of disappointment. It's hard knowing a criticism is coming, especially when deserved. I would plead ingredient integrity and availability but to my side of the leger I did make a bit of amazing juice that was not appreciated AT ALL by one (the other wasn't casting her vote as vocally).

I made many spinach and cheese rolls.

I even had a half a handle on the bits and bobs for tax - however my computer battery went flat and despite various trying to get it charging it hit zero and didn't rebound. Computer guy is not in town but reckons power source.

And although I was TO THE MINUTE organised today as I had to finish some three day jobs that never get done at their place, at the final 1/2 hr a silent car glid up and parked ACROSS the gate behind which my packed car was parked. Visitors for my Dad dropping in unannounced who would love a cup of tea - the wife knew Mum before and offers to be with Mum for Dad to go to meetings with the husband - committees and Lions - salt of the earth.

I have also just realised that it might well have been a farewell tour for the latter hearing their offload of the medical drama his life has been of late.

Which makes me that much more of a bitch in hindsight for grumbling inwardly about the parking as I made them afternoon tea but did not attend as i had to handover to the carer.

I still got home safely.

One of my 'to dos' today I made sourdough pizza bases for NYE - two for me to bring home, one for Mum and Dad and one for the carer.

 sourdough pizza base

I also spent time remembering Auntie Glen and how today was the first 30th December for 35 years where I haven't reminded Mum to ring her best friend for her birthday - and unfortunately due to driving a car and daylight savings didn't get to ring my godbrother and my godsister.

Bespoke silverbeet and cheese rolls - reviews based on taste rather than aesthetics please 🥺 

Anyway - list and logistics to happen tomorrow here. Last day of the year and we're kicking it off at the dentist for Paris.

Way to pace yourself 2025!

Christmas Eve Eve

 Happy Christmas Eve Eve!

Which means that it's the night before the last day of work.

(During the writing of that paragraph a crisis has arisen over keys. I have realised how much we rely on muscle memory. I had an automatic response to hearing a car door slam of saying "honey, if you are near my keys on the bench can you please click the ..." and that was all of the instruction needed for a whole saga to ensue. Oh, and my daughter won a game of fortnite. Whatever that means.)

I am already nearly a day ahead of myself in having the majority of gifts already wrapped! 

You know those people who are organised in October? I am not they.

Of course, part of this year's secret lies in the paucity of presents and a complete lack of time to organise. I think that I have clocked five hours on preparation this year - and that includes the wrapping effort tonight.

Have you ever watched Red Dwarf? Then you will understand when I tell you that I am up to colour coding my timetable for the house situation.

I am approaching the next few days - and weeks - as coolly as I can, which, as it happens, I am apparently not very good at. I have been told.

They're probably right.

The pool fence yarn

I went to poetry tonight.

I do love a good poetry evening.

It is a mix of ages and people and everyone is there for the joy of words and connection.

Ah.

It's a bit like blogging but shorter and more immediate.

It's also a bit over two hours of me time once a month.

Ah.

And I get to share it with 'Salina.

Ah.

We are looking online at offerings of houses still.

We are holding powder until the right stars align - those meteors last week must have scrambled them.

One I saw recently had a swimming pool.

Hooray I hear some say but I know that (a) with such delights comes very hard work and (b) that was one ugly pool.

I grew up with a rectangular pool. Dad - or was it the husband of a relative? Anyhow he and a mate had met a guy in the pub who used to build pools on cruise ships - and for a non-taxable sum, a place to stay and to get fed for the duration he worked with Dad to build our pool.

We were the only ones in the area who had one when I was little.

Not that that meant our house was "the neighbourhood hang" - geography was too vast and everyone had a dam or tank to suffice.

But it did mean that there was always an option for a swim.

The technology involved with the pool was a hit'n'miss pump and a hose.

The pool was pumped from the river. As moss grew on the sides and the steps, we had stiff brushes to scrape them - and as scum and decaying leaves would form scabs upon the surface we had nets on long handled to scoop the pool.

Various chemicals were mixed with beakers of water and compared in the shadows against numbered charts of colour, and the resultant formula for clear waters sprinkled across the surfaces and swirled through.

The depths of the deep end and beneath the stairs were still freaky places I would not ever dare to venture to. I did not care that I was considered a wimp because I knew the truth.

I was a smart wimp.

The things to watch out for was slimy strings of amphibious eggs, black insects with hard beetle shells and hands of sharpened pincers, dead animals and toads.

Cane toads are ugly.

They are especially ugly when eyeballing you from between you and your exit from the pool.

Luckily there were two exits - the wooden stairs in the corner of the shallow end and the ladder - and I believe that it taught me to swim faster - both teaching and swimming faster - that very healthy fear of the cane toad.

They were in the pool DESPITE the 2 foot high pool fence directly past the concrete edge of the pool that's sole purpose was to deter toads from gaining access.

Should the bottom of the deep end get so murky and full of sludge that even the cane toads were coming up for fresher sir, the hit'n'miss would fire up and the next 14 hours - with intermittent orders poolside to scrub and calls of "how much fuel" and "is it blocked" while the water levels lowered and the sludge became more concentrate.

The next morning was old clothes, rubber boots and shovels as buckefuls of sludge were winched and dispensed to wheelbarrow and hence down the hill back towards the river.

There was a rectangular sinkhole at the far edge of the deep end where the last of the sludge was swept towards.

Then cracks reputtied and all sides repainted and sundried before the next cycle of pumped water re-entered the pool.

To quote the old man, you knew that you were alive when you hit the water in the morning for a few laps - or in the case of this particular wimp, you were alive after your Dad had had his "cold wash" and disposed of all cane toads.

Unsure of title

 Since the last post (& mostly not me) (no particular order):

• Real estate agents
• Unexpected answers to long-asked question
• How to make snake beans edible 
• Heart attack 
• Titanium rod
• Asparagus and white bean pasta
• Miscommunications 
• 21st
• Tomato pickers
• Small towns 
• Big families 
• Did I say amazing real estate agent 
• Work
• Boyfriend 
• Migraine 
• Poetry 
• Garden
• Packing 
• Finance
• pre-Christmas 
• Macros

I haven't forgotten you.

Just been a bit busy.

My Gorgeous Godmother, Auntie Glen

 My Mum's best friend had her as a bridesmaid when she and Don married in April 196? - 3 I suppose?  She joked with Mum that Mum grow for the job - and Mum stretched another 2 inches to 5'2".

When my parents got married, Glen was to be her matron of honour - but as she was also 8 months pregnant with her son at the time, contingencies were made.

Mum and Glen studied pharmacy together, and we heard through letters of Mum's high-flying friend from her heyday - moving whole states away living a very different lifestyle: he an industrial chemist and eventually executive of a multi-national nation-building conglomerate; she a very skilled executive's wife, poster-book PTA mother who, like Mum, kept her hand in the trade doing a day or two here and there behind the high counter at the chemist shops.

And she was MY godmother.

I obviously met her when very young - the November prior my April birth my parents and sister went to see the Melbourne Cup (Rain Lover won - of course my Dad had money on him, with a name like that!) and also Glen and her family - husband Don and son and daughter - so she probably knew of my being before I was, indeed, on this earth.

I cannot remember in which order it went - we to visit them in Sydney or they to come and visit us.

When they came to visit us (which may have been before) my older godbrother and I put together a project - we built a frog farm where they lived in complete masonite apartment luxury with a flyscreen net roof and doors and windows and water-wallowing troughs and grass beds.  We valiantly attempted to gather flies for our inmates, but it didn't take long for us to realise that it was a fools game so we liberated the frogs and looks at the ruined castle and reminisced.  

At the end of that holiday, my first remembered interaction with a real ambulance came when my godbrother parted company with Linda, a beautiful chestnut - only he didn't part company fully, with his shoe catching in his stirrup and his flailing causing Linda to bolt.  My godbrother lived, but the end of the "holiday", looking back through this lens, may not have been very restful to my godmother.

The Sydney trip involved driving both ways in the brand new (to us) Chrysler - a brave move on my Dad's part because he thought that we could fit into a sedan.  On the upside, it had electric windows - on the down, it had floating suspension.

The windows died less than half a day into our trip.  The suspension floated for both days going down, and the day and a half going back.  Three country kids who generally fought over who got the window seats fought over who got the middle seat with the view of the road, while either side of him (or her on occasion) were ordering Dad and Mum to pull over more often than not.  Sometimes not in time.

My reintroduction to my oh-so-sophisticated godmother at then end of this marathon was presenting my doll Sandra and all of her clothes to be put through the washing machine in the valiant hope she (Sandra, not my godmother) would survive the ride.  I watched.  

The highlight that I really remember was going to Taronga Zoo and learning that you could possibly take pictures through the wire diamonds and maybe get better views of the animals - I received a small camera for my birthday (maybe my 8th or 9th?) and didn't realise that I was short-sighted.  After I got my photos back (a month later), I realised that while there was no wire in the way, I still couldn't make out the animals in the distance!  

Oh, and my godsister and my godbrother - both older than I, like chalk and cheese from each other but whole different species to us.  These were verifiable big city kids who knew all about the world around them and I was in awe.

I did "a fortnight's" work experience when I was at University, and I stayed at my godparents house in Sydney.  My godbrother still lived at home, and my godsister was studying in New Zealand - and for six weeks I shared their roof and their meals and their lives and it was wonderful.

At the end of that year, the company that I did work experience for invited me back, and they were my family base for the next 5 years, enjoying Sunday dinners and being their surrogate daughter, sister (my godsister had returned to Australia soon after) and granddaughter (my godmother's mother was an absolute hoot).

It wasn't all beer and skittles - especially if you didn't have a coaster.  You don't get an immaculate house or system going unless you are quite particular about how you stacked the dishwasher or played a record or sat in the parlour - I was very country mouse at times, plus a teensy bit bolshie so there were times I found the soft spots at the edges of their tolerance levels, but we all enjoyed the sport!

Then I went on to live other lives and no doubt as did they.  We kept in touch the sporadic way that we did then and we do now - but each birthday, anniversary and festivity included a card or a call to the family or they to me.

My godfather passed a few years ago now, and my godmother lived alone for a long time, then in an apartment in a retirement village.  Of late her health had deteriorated causing her to moving closer to her children (who had both chosen semi-rural lives in the end).  She passed away this afternoon with my godsister and my godbrother beside her and I am sure that she is now with her darling Don and wonderful Mum up there looking down on us.

Love you, Glen. 

Instant Idiot - just add

 water.

We heard him first 

The scream of the engine 

The spin of the wheels 

We had rain a week ago 

Enough to soak and and to sit and to funk

The lush parkland right across

there is a dream that this driver has

Festered upon 

For four nights.

and tonight it has peaked.

His wheels squeal right by 

Biting bitumen - this boy

Shrieking each turn.

Ripping across this calm Friday night 

Clear is the sky round Beaver Moon 

It Rends our peace.

But he's driving his dreams round all roads of this town 

Screech-shriek-spin-thrum-grunt-farkenwhathe-ever-lovin' hell.

The cars screams recurrent t'ards South

and I pray

Not today 

Not today 

Not today.

The BOM tribulations

(Apologies that I have confused people with the below.  BOM is the Bureau of Meteorology - a very integral government service in this very weather dependant land.)

Poor old BOM.

So out of touch with people, a year or so ago had a very middle-child response. A name change was launched without warning but much fanfare by some bureaucratic marketing department. They had decided that they didn't want to be called such a destructive homophone - does that make them homophoneophobic? - and preferred the more grown up version of The Bureau.

Nonsense, said the general public, we like your old stuff better than your new stuff.

Thus they reverted to BOM.

So came time for their website security upgrade, as burglars of today think nothing of mining your search history for when you are to be absent and your locale being more identifiable.

*Why not " the faceless them if the Bureau thought "change the curtains while the opportunity presents" but then chose to the most (metaphorically speaking) godawful mustard frill and misspelled Chinese cheap shit curtains for the Reno and the mother-in-law (aka ABC the public broadcaster - and then all other media outlets and their listeners and viewers) complained.

I totally get it. Lives may well be lost if they stuff up because of seemingly minor irritating merde as this.

But as all of my ancestors came by boat to this land 150-260 years ago, and they placed their lives into the hands of cavaliers harnessing the wind and a great deal of hope towards the goal of getting over to the other side of the planet, is complaining about this a little modern and soft-underbellied of us?

And they would have dreamt of a time that they could have known what tomorrow would bring, let along the lottery of crossing oceans in an uncharted future.

But poor old BOM needs our attention and the knowledge that they fit into our landscape without these petulant outbreaks.

So that is a longabout way of saying that it is stormy again here tonight and we hope to goodness that common sense and BOM work together on an upcoming sailing trip for a member of the family.

(Translation for those not inside my head - one daughter is off on a science under sail excursion for the next five days and I am hoping for calm conditions weather-wise)

Oh, and my (house hunting) shortlist went to two on Monday when one contender just seemed a little pokey on inspection. 

(The house hunting shortlist reduced again) To one by Friday lunch when I (finally) got the guts to enquire about the expensive but ve-ry nice one within spitting distance of work and discovered another "under offer" straight arm defence.

Which makes it (house hunting shortlist) basically Zero as my very first enquiry remains disengaged so I am doomed to never be an internet acquaintance from early this century's next door neighbour.

I had a brief love affair with one house near the end of a cul-de-sac but alas it too had been promised within three days of offer.

The market is what is known as hot.

(Lesson taken from above) Task one - sell and step into the unknown.

At that profundity the thunder rolled across the heavens and I will have to bid adieu.

I am to be away before 6 tomorrow so now must sleep.

Good night.

I slept in today

 which was not in the plans.  Paris had to work early, I had a task to undertake with 'Salina after and a dozen potential properties to peruse.

We are by no means ready, but if we waited until we were ready nothing would ever get done.  I am still viewing it all as practice runs.

 

As 'Salina had awoken early to undertake her task, she beneficently bestowed her navigation skills and critical eye to the project and within an hour, we had whittled that down to a possible four.

(The pictured property - a two-board white fence, shady green trees overhanging and a neat verge - first a view of the side yard from the south - south-east and then a view from the back and the driveway.  This is in the middle of town and not for sale - absolutely amazing block though, with the most unassuming front yard and private house)

As none of those four had pressing open houses, I returned home to cook gluten-free chocolate squares (I have book club and a work morning tea coming up in the next few days), make the shared areas presentable and write a list for the planned menu.  I had one curry from the freezer, one to use up from the pantry and intentions to make one of my favourites of late - Beef Kerahi (I am going to have to find the link to the recipe I have written down).

I had used precision timing, with the squares due from the oven at the time I would have to leave the house to collect Paris from her shift - however I forgot that the instruction was "ice while hot" so the quickest ever icing was ever concocted, maintaining the no gluten (and no dairy - the metric tonne of butter in the base probably makes that a futile gesture). 

(The pictured parkland is across the road from our current house.  This is one of the many mobs of kangaroos that live in my neighbourhood.  This picture has nothing to do with my day today - its just a picture for effect.)

Technically, I was two minutes late for the end of the shift, but I have solemnly promised Paris she is not in the blog so she shan't be. 

We went to see the one house that had a few very - quaint features, and a few - well, quainter features.  Unfortunately the real fireplace (although a hybrid between Brady Bunch and Jetsons styles), circular driveway and swimming pool attractions were  doused by the Edwardian room layout, the two burner stove, the rollercoaster pitch laundry path and the orange toilet.  

Darn I wish I could tell some of her stories, though.  There was a corker stimulated by this house visit.

Late edit - I have been expressly allowed to tell this story.

Paris said that the moment she stepped into the house, it was like she was in a time machine.  She channelled a 1950s housewife and started to have an anxiety attach that the children would be home any moment and she wouldn't have supper ready for them after homework.

The agent was the first one to actually sound at all enthused, but given the pool that I have access thus far is only 3 and the other 2 were male, it may not be statistically sound sampling yet.

Still, the number reduced to 3 maybes and a possibility. 

 When we came home from shopping and cursory coos at the cats at the shelter, I made my curry.  I chopped it all nicely and displayed on beautiful matching plates - and then completely forgot to take any photos.  That is the quality of food blogger you deal with here.

I did take a photo of the end result, though.

(yes, that is still the special 1970s that my phone has implemented as its standard filter)

Date night, as Paris went out to the movies tonight with a few other kids and one of the other kids lives down this end also, so I did the drive in leg and we had several hours before the others drive her home.

But realistic in our goals - a nice dinner and a bit of an episode of the Lee Mack 1% Club.   Might even lash out and do the washing up at some point.

Saturday night - how is yours? 

The minutiae of not much

 Of an update 

(Please note - photos are in no way related to post...)

As you yourself know all too well Debby, stuff somehow magically happens or it does not. In the hands of a higher power.

Cathy and River - by thinking "gee that date on the milk bottle resembles one familiar to today" and "I think I remember the path to mozzarella can be found with a junket tablet" and "I remember that I once bought junket tablets". Detours were caused by discovering my expensive cooking thermometer selection would work for a roast and would work for candy but was completely inadequate for cheesemaking purposes, discovery that a declutter had caused the demise of the Citric Acid, which had been deemed rarely required in modern life (salvaged by the juice of the last grapefruit of the season), discovering the inadequate thermometer had broken on the bench between bouts of curd-creating curdles on the stovetop, winging it, draining it, beating it, microwaving it and completely failing to get it to anything remotely resembling "stretching it and folding it". Despondent but resolute not to waste, the whey became pikelets and the cheese was refrigerated to take on my trip as "Goldie" (a complete typo in the previous post but I'll keep it) is my dream food inspiror. She is who declared it ricotta and it became a recurring feature of the feasting held.

Boud - no, indeed sought location is close to work - I drive about 30km each way (taking 1/2 -3/4 of an hour depending on school ). It will be a lot easier to commute.

Kelly - Debby is right, Power of Attorney. My aunt is relatively healthy if you consider she is 84 and has had health issues all of her life. POA wanted to ensure family were aware and nobody was taking advantage of anyone. Lovely lady. Up there with anecdotes as was the aunt.

Jeanie - it is one of those promethian conundrums, will womankind ever get to tick off the "sort $#!+ in office/spare room" checkbox.

Rita. I know. Who is this woman and why is she wearing my clothes?

BTW ai is getting very smart. I have a select group of commenters, more by chance than design - and I recently received a spam comment that was a work of art- either they have paid that monkey well or there is a tortured poet in PR purgatory. I left it there but be warned, the webpage attached to Jean S's name is selling something!

Apologies for complete lack of comments, replies, picture descriptors or links - I had done the latter and I touched the wrong thing apparently.

Night all. Tomorrow is another day (of work work work work then dr appointment (not for me - for the 3rd day in a row) then dinner, declutter and Ted Lasso). Life balance.

not much of an update

 since last time

• saw one RE agent
• made myself a new list
• accidentally made ricotta 
• work work work work work
• visited a wonderful friend Goldie
• ate wonderful food and nourished my soul 
• saw my aunt and her POA 
• work work work work work
• spent a weekend with Mum and Dad
• work work work work work
• made a better list
• booked storage
• had a car go clunk
• found out car can still clunk carefully until next week
• went to poetry
• started working through list.

This actually isn't on today's list, but I had 10 minutes between "mowing" and "sort $#!+ in office/spare room" and thought that maybe it should have been. 

Ahead of me is all that list, sell a house, buy a house, move, be present for family near and far and work work work work work... 

MIA

 I know, I have been missing (although if you look at my posting pattern for the last 16 years, that is not so very unusual) but do believe, it has been a very much IN ACTION type of missing.

Work has been crazy - I work full-time, and its generally 110% required. This week, three key players in my 7 player side (2 of the 7 being new recruits) were on leave, including my boss who I am 2IC to.  Crazy busy doesn't even start to cover it.

I went to visit my parents last weekend.  I also took the opportunity to give my sister a flying visit (haven't seen her in what seems like forever).  Next weekend I will be down at the Goldie to see a friend and also visit my Mum's sister with her POA so we can go through what she wants done with all of her house stuff should she ever decide to go into care (or have the decision made for her by fate), so may take that opportunity to give my sister outlaw a flying visit (ditto).  I have all weekends through to Christmas almost mapped out for me and I don't get a lot at home.  

On top of that, we are contemplating what is required to enact a possible house sell/buy/move in the next 6-12 months.  So far V and I have written a 4 page list of what may be needed to achieve the first bit, spare time is in contemplating what the second bit might be possible and we haven't even started to think of the headache of the third.

This was set off by a chance phone call, and as we had been discussing it thought "why not have a look at what may be".

The what may be person was going to come and give us an idea of what effort (and indeed, what money) we need to throw towards 3/4 of our list as frankly, our home will likely be sold on position rather than aesthetics of the house this morning - so my "do it before the what may be person comes" list was burning in my hands this morning.  Luckily I gave myself a 10 minute cup of tea break to check my emails, as he has asked to move it to tomorrow - I will have to move work hours.  My "do it before the what may be person comes" list now seems much more doable. 

So now, I am off to check out a few blogs with a more relaxed cup of tea, toast some of the bread I made last night for my breakfast, make pikelets with the whey from the mozzarella I also attempted to make last night (we will find out in 24 hrs how it went.  As total cost is time and a junket tablet - all else was in the "use it or throw it away" category - the very frugal part of me made that decision) for my book club later today and relax a little more.

Anyone want to spend a fortune on a home with a great view?

 

One Week Later...

I was so darned organised.

Packing en pointe. Carry on with absolutely required items only (still weighs a doggarned tonne). Tickets and passports and things needed to get in easily accessible nooks and crannies.

I had even checked-in online on time. Made sure that Paris had the window seat and me next to her all flights.

We got a great park at the airport and mother-in-law and V primed to wave farewells.

And then?

The booking card for Paris was mine printed twice. I showed Paris that it wasn't technically pushing in if we used the priority desk for a little Snafu of the airline's own making - and bonus, it gave the clerk a little one-upmanship leverage in workplace politics. Win.

Then we boarded. Word to the wise - apparently row 15 doesn't have a window. So struck out there.

Got to our connection city and going through the international connection gate had a problem with our  boarding passes AGAIN. It kept saying wrong date - so the lady did a manual override swipe and we entered the realm that was to be ours for the next 6 hours.

We connected to the airport wifi and made calls then went to see what was on offer for dinner on our way to scout the gate - but no flight, no gate and no clue what was going on.

 

Finally someone (hint, it wasn't me) had the bright idea to check the app - and there was advised second leg of flight was delayed by 10 hours.  On the upside, the airline put us up in a hotel and gave us some food vouchers - for inside the terminal, not at hotel. However, as Paris really wanted to shout us Chipotle's via Uber Eats we ate well. The beds were very soft and the pillows were way too fluffy. Luckily I had a spare shirt for the hot/cold changes so something to sleep in but no spare underwear!

This meant that we would miss the connecting flight from Brisbane, so after an interminable time on hold (thank goodness it wasn't a genuine EMERGENCY) I eventually got onto travel agent's 24/7 emergency response person (TA247ERP) to change flights. Given logistics of flights and customs, the earliest realistic flight I could get on was the next day (Tuesday) which meant I would have to stay overnight.  The TA247ERP said this is the airline's issue - check in chick advised it was in their charter and, on seeing our documentation, confirmed we should be eligible and she would put a note on our file for someone to talk to us about procedure at other end. That didn't happen but she had said we could send in a claim.

Motel we stayed at had firm enough bed, free shuttle to airport in morning and A-MA-ZING room service. We also had our luggage, so fresh clothes. The apartment was right at the other end of the complex to the office and free shuttle and the bags heavy, but heck, people pay to go to the gym.

Arrived back in home town - friend who had car garaged at hers collected - in her car, as my car wouldn't start. RACQ advised battery stuffed - got new battery.

Collected cat - paid for extra night. Cat yelled at us all the way home.

Dropped off cat and daughter and collected groceries. On way up with groceries, noticed a large puddle beneath toilet/pipes. Rang plumber. Amazing plumber came and fixed perished rings in toilet and advised no heavy work for toilet for 24 hours.

Used downstairs toilet for heavy work - discovered that downstairs toilet has same issue plus probably more. Used bucket from laundry sink to flush. Noticed washer in laundry also buggered.

Meant to be back at work Wednesday - on middle of night escort of daughter to downstairs toilet (its scary down there) felt a migraine niggling - took some drugs but was still a complete write off until about 2pm so first day back a sick day - all evacuations either end required a walk downstairs, get bucket of water from laundry and complete. Noted how filthy toilet was. Also had to call Cancer Care and move appointment for 3 year check up - not a fun activity when jackhammers are in the brain and nausea is threatening. Daughter put on washing (hooray) and washing machine stopped at final rinse. I think that I have worked out it may be related to washer issue in laundry as I got it to work by specifying "tap cold" rather than "cold/cold" for water temperature.

Called plumber again - couldn't come out to Friday morning.

 

Back to work on Thursday - as developer was finishing up other projects I couldn't get lowdown on requirements for fixing any issues raised with me until Friday, so spent day sorting spotfires and writing lists for Friday meeting.

 

Plumber back - downstairs toilet not only has issue identified but also apparently a crack in the base - will send a quote for that (but fixed problem).  Laundry taps so bad required complete replacement also.  It seems that my next holiday budget will be labelled "maintenance".

 

I rarely blog when in "real life" due to the brain drain that work is (they do get value for money).

 

All extra hours this week (and this weekend ahead) is devoted to catching up on family, yardwork and housework - and zonking out early - then up early because apparently time is just a concept!

 

Awoke at 3:14 this morning (pi time!!) and brain when into whirr zone. Am hoping that all the things I envisage happening today when I couldn't get back to sleep do actually happen. 

 

So - how has your week treated you? 

And in a blink

 Four days have now passed and suddenly we are nearing the end of our sojourn.

(Apologies - most of these photos are out of order, as gz often complains I too blame Blogger.)

Still, as it has my trademark "1970s sepia" mask in place.

Bad photo of Petco Park towards our seats from a section halfway to first - if you squint you can see Paris and mother-in-law 

We did some tourist stuff - saw Old Town. (Didn't take photos)

Saw extended family. (Didn't take photos)

From our seats behind home plate. Mother-in-law has a client who has been a member for a lot of years.

Received much kindness from neighbours and clients and friends of my mother-in-law who all love her enough to give her gifts to enjoy while her family are visiting.

From above our seats looking towards the field 

We saw the new towns developing on the footpaths and saw some baseball and learned how to use uber amidst a morass of fans swarming with disappointment after a sweep at home.

This is meant to be a panoramic view from the members balcony but it just looks sort of weird, doesn't it?

 and saw streets with life murals etched and meanwhile at home the fans kept blowing and sucking the moisture from the air and the walls and our souls. (Being overly dramatic for - well, for dramatic effect I suppose).

A mural passed on our Uber ride back.

The best thing that happened this morning was the fans stopped. The silence was amazing. The plastic removed from the walls and the cardboard removed from the floors and whilst there are decent holes in the wall the machines have gone and we all relaxed.

The sourdough finally worked on the last loaf attempted.

We did those jobs today that are a p.i.t.a.

Returns and refunds. Exchanges. And yet - charmed existence, all store clerks most helpful and kind, time requirement negligible, all needs met. I even scored a shirt while not exactly what I wanted but better than expected and when mother-in-law saw it exclaimed "wait" and gifted me a black and white patterned skirt that matched it PERFECTLY, it was another sign of a blessed day.

Meanwhile in Australia the three hat trick that a certain bank has been playing (blogged about a few weeks ago) had another chapter with involvement from all corners of the globe and modern communication methods - and achieved a significant breakthrough. Not a "stick a fork in it, it's done" breakthrough but one involving a chink of light from the very end of a proverbial tunnel.

Still couldn't turn back time and give us a Padres win yesterday.

Horror movies

 It was decided on the drive home from shopping today that we would be watching Jaws tonight. I abstained from voting on the matter but my vote didn't matter as it was.

I was scrolling adjacent as the movie played. I am not one for gore or violence or anything jump-scary, so luckily the movie is now so well known in modern folklore that I could anticipate.

In my wander around the playground that is the internet I discovered:

• The San Diego Botanic Gardens has a rare orchid bloom - a corpse flower (& if you go to their Facebook page you can name it) https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/2025/08/28/rare-corpse-flower-prepares-for-its-first-bloom-at-san-diego-botanic-garden/
• ... about 1.67% of attackers in the Secret Service report were transgender and 95.56% of attackers were men who were not transgender... So in summation, if we are to change the outcome we need to consider the base root cause.  https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/transgender-mass-shootings/
• The length of the shark in Jaws spawned a sociological discussion of science vs myth https://www.quora.com/Can-a-great-white-shark-really-be-as-big-as-25-ft-long-and-weighing-three-tons-as-depicted-in-the-film-Jaws
• 316 sailors survived the USS Indianapolis https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/surviving-sinking-uss-indianapolis
• Not only is there Jaws (1975 Spielberg) and  Jaws 2 (1978 Sczwarc) there is Jaws 3-D (1983 Alves) in a theme park, Jaws 4: The Revenge (1987 Sargent), Cruel Jaws (1995 Mattei) which is apparently some fan fic that got a limited release and  a myriad of Jaws 6 concepts. The Jawsical (estimated Summer 2025 Whannell/Koepp) was promising but no tune on the promos trailer didn't fulfil the musical promise)

No sharks (mechanical or otherwise) were harmed in the creation of this blog post.

Apologies to Abraham - if you aren't AI then please take it as a compliment that it was so close! Don't say stupid

August ending

 The middle of our last weekend here and the end of the weekend there.

It has been a mostly busy day.  A "drop everything we are socialising and entertaining today" sort of day.

I really don't mean to be bossy. Honestly. I am happy to be a worker bee, a "tell me what to do and I will do it" kind of girl.

But I have been in situations where it has muddled and nobody stepped up in time to get it directed.

The trick, I think, is getting your timing right - so you are assured that nobody else has dibs and not realising until too late the requirement of the someone taking the reins is you. 

Judgement that the someone has thrown their hat into the ring they also worthy and not doing it just because - and not yielding to a claim of gazumping just because unless they are the perfect solution.

Aren't photos wonderful" they said. "They keep memories alive." Outside San Diego Zoo with V, mother-in-law and Paris. Really, it is!

Luckily in the scenario today I was always going to be "it". Mother-in-law had work until the last moment and momentum from several different directions had already come into play and needed harness.

I was so bossy today and yet I wasn't. As I said to my sister, I was merely a lollipop lady with a list. I love a good list!

It went relatively smoothly and there was more than enough in the way of food and drinks and connections made - and enough spots to hide if you are a shy teenager in a morass of adults or sneak off and watch baseball.

Nobody complained of being allocated tasks or denying then the honours, anyhow. Well, not yet but is a long weekend over here.

In what situations have you ever found yourself in a "needs must" role?

Communication

 Isn't communication a revolutionary thing? I mean, compared to the era of my 2x great grandparents and their family across the oceans or that of my greats without phones or grands without fax to parents starting to email and us with our old-hat blogs and Facebook while the next is IG, Snapchat and tiktok and who knows what into the future.

Today (which is a relative term), I am

• carrying on a conversation with a friend last seen in the early 80s in Rockvegas rowing on the Fitzroy;
• Having a meme conversation with an old work colleague;
• Operating multiple mobile phones profiling one another to find why one octogenarian's phone isn't receiving group photos connected to 19 relatives on that branch, of which statistically she numbered two! (All of you who have ever assisted older generations with any form of technology, nod slowly) (BTW I succeeded - it was not that she was not of the clan, it's that her phone had deemed the clan to be spam! It had also pocket-blocked a favourite nephew.
• Assisting only very slightly with the administration of the generation where computers and apps and mobile technology are definitely not second nature (or even placing)
• Giving opinions on the advisdedness of designating certain persons asshole status in certain almost certainly contrived situations 
• (Because surely to goodness nobody is that mean or thick)
• (Surely not)
• Peeking over the out-of-office notification of my work emails to see who might be making a dartboard with my picture while I continue to swan it up 
• Expanding the branches of the family tree in a few new directions with living sources, and 
• Ordering food for eight people.

I certainly could not have done that in yonder days...

It was the sort of day that doesn't get a title

 It was a day of waiting for phone calls and seeing adjusters and listening to the constant whine of a compressor drying the walls and us determinedly not being driven up them.

I finally watched whole episodes of Downton Abbey (very late to that party) and did loads of washing and mother-in-law recut hair (still perfect but now tapered more) and redid Paris's highlights and we had ravioli and played pool badly.

See - more taper here

I also had some technical issues. Due to something or other Luddite my phone is not esim compatible which is as much research as I have done regarding connectivity while here.

This hasn't limited me too much as mother-in-law has WiFi and folks that I need to talk to here are all contactable via mother-in-law and folks that I need to talk to elsewhere I can get through social media so have had little to require it. 

One day of international roaming costs $10, and it is charged for 24 hours from the moment you accept a call or text or make one.  

I did pay for 1 day to speak to Paris's school so she could continue with her work.

However today I should have known there would be issues as Dad, who I ring nearly every morning at 7.25am, couldn't pick up his end because Messenger would ring once and disappear. He then sent me a voicemail which I couldn't download and we continued in this fashion until he rang again and I, despite the dose of Scots, answered the $10 phone call.

Which was very stressful for both of us - no video for Dad meant a huge comprehension issue and on his end the line kept dropping out until it disconnected and I couldn't get through calling back.

Luckily my sister-in-law went to see them today.

Then I got an extended family message to beat the drums for another of the older generation and so I did what I could from here that someone will be able to advise the right people. 

I even inadvertently discovered another familial vendetta that one particular branch specialises in which is just so petty and tiresome. Just passing along news, not looking to start, maintain or broker anything here!

Instead of Amtrak we caught the umm track

 Today the plan was rise early, catch the train North along the coast to a site where V misspent part of his youth, stay the night and return on the morrow.

Instead, water views were on offer in unusual places here and many administrative duties undertaken to alleviate that situation.

Amtrak refunded the tickets.

The flood was 12 hours too late to cancel our accommodation.

A pipe inside a wall behind the fridge had developed a leak and the leak had developed into a stream when my mother-in-law noticed when searching for a 3am peanut butter snack.

The damage wasn't the worst that it could be. Phone calls have been made and received, one guy put blue tape on bits of wall and a noisy machine with pipes dehumidifying the wall, another guy checked a temporary fix and took photos for a report for insurance and we will have another few guys around at 9 tomorrow to talk how many 0s might be involved.

It's going to be a few uncomfortable days and possibly a bit of wall repair.

But it was Providence at work, because I sure as heck wouldn't have wanted to have gone away and returned to the damage that could have been done.

And we therefore also got to get a bit of shopping done closer to home so not all wasted 

150 years ago

 A 17 year-old came out on assisted passage - Alfred Benjamin Martin - alone amongst 350 on the "Isles of the South" (check out this trove article by the captain on the voyage - the man should take a masterclass in understatement - would go nicely with a decent port!)

Six years hence he married a 20 year old German girl who had lived half her life in Queensland. Wilhelmina - or Minnie - Schultz.

Over the next 10 years , four children had been born and the wife had died when the youngest was not yet three years old. I saw a very old photograph of them - Bennie,  Rosie, Lennie and Lillie.

He brought his father (Alfred) and 3 siblings out to Australia from a changing England - an older sister (Esther) and two much younger brothers (William and George).

The sister looked after these four motherless children until a business discussion led to a new wife nearly half his age. Phoebe Emma (or Anne - it appears interchangeable) Edwards.

I have several matrons in the family tree who had a dowry. Both have stories attached.

One great great grandfather - no relation to the above for another generation - was a total scoundrel but did not touch the 1,000 pounds that his wife Hannah brought with him.

But this great grandfather was a great bloke and friend to all, had well-taxed deep pockets and Phoebe's 10,000 but 5 years later Phoebe had four well-married stepchildren, a 19 year old son (another Alfred - James Alfred),  a sadness (Hector died at 1 day old and there is a family story told many years later that there were up to 10 pregnancies) and two late surprises with an 8 year old girl (Jean) and a 4 year old boy (Ian - my grandfather) - widow's weeds and a line of business associates of her late husband requesting that she waive the IOUs that were due - and less than 400 with no money coming in.

He was many more things than the above in his amazing life - he was a scholar, an engineer, a mill manager and spokesperson for all things sugar in the region - first Mackay and then Maryborough, both serving pivotal roles in his life journey.

But back to the trove story - unfortunately this post - I was about to make up a word - anniverses - does it work? This post doesn't anniverse the story with hailstones

 A very heavy N.W. gale was experienced on the 27th, in latitude 33° S. and longitude 155°* E., with much thunder, lightning, and large hailstones. A sudden shift to S.W. (for which we had prepared ourselves) took place, and a new inner jib paid the penalty and was

blown almost to rags, the sheet of which was flogged into quite a "Gordian knot," which took some pains to unravel.

but instead, it would have been the month prior 

On August 24 (62 days out) we passed the meridian of Cape Aguthas, in lat. 44° south, and then a fair run of 233½ miles a day for 27 days was made. On August 29 Flog Island, one of the Crozet Group, was sighted ; and on this parallel of 45° south we continued to run down our easting, during which mostly favorable weather was experienced with an occasional gale and a high sea to break the monotony of the day's routine. 

But that is Captain J. D. B. le Conteur for you - understated!

Sour doh

 As you know I like to cook.

My approach to cooking is somewhat akin to my approach to gardening. It's science and some experiments prove things - and some don't.

While over here, my MILs next door neighbour has gifted me some starter as I do have some at home that I play with and for whatever anyone says about the sourdough community, generosity is built into the whole equation.

On the downside, MIL is not a baker and thus the whole scientific approach that I normally pay lips service to has had to hit the kerb as no scales, strange bowls and ah hoc cooking vessels have made it a slightly more -  esoteric? - experience than that undertaken in my own kitchen.

The rolls that I made first up were acceptable but not my best work - flour isn't always the flour that you are used to so what I thought was wholemeal is a whole different taste journey here.

The bao buns failed miserably but I think that I know what went wrong (as well as that whole "how tf and I going to steam them" hanging over my head that I ended up not needing to solve).

The discard English muffins that are a favourite at home worked okay although the lack of a pizza stone and following recipe instructions instead proved to be the pizza stone is a superior method.

I had made a dough for a loaf but screwed up my maths and ran out of things to hold it in so pivoted to "let's do something with all of these apples" and what I made was not what I envisioned. It's edible but disappointing.

On the upside, in the non bread domain I have managed to create enough for me to keep the visiting chef hat atop my head so phew!

The other fun available

 There are apparently other things that you can do on holidays besides relax or shop or get beautiful or just let go of all care.

You can fight with a teenager about the school work that should only take about an hour a day to keep on top of.

In fact, if you get a teenager in the right phase, you can argue about 20 minutes of school work for nearly the whole day.

The arguments varied from I have done everything through its all stupid to its all your fault that I will fail everything by taking this holiday now.

To add interest, the first baulk at doing what was required resulted in no phone availability until at least 20 minutes was achieved, and it proved to me that time travel is possible because I saw a modern version of my own teenage strops.

Mum was right then too.

Once we were over that hump, had food in our stomachs and equilibrium reached, we were playing pool and Paris noted how, with the white ball in one hand and cue in the other, she was like Elsa (in Frozen) when she was coronated.

Coronated didn't sound right, so we went to the internet to see what we could find.

Amongst things found was proof in the adage that you should never trust the internet.

Is it Thursday?

 

That is the problem with a holiday, isn't it?

we enter the swimming pool of days, shallow and warm and mesmerisingly relaxing.

Our "real time" is akilter.

And now we have entered that deep water of where in the week are we?

In the month? Which month?

In the spin of earth attuned with Sun?

But every day is Sunday for us here.

Thursday so we went to the foot spa and manicure place today and my nails are now varying shades of orange 🧡 .  Paris chose a very neutral gel, and I discovered that I am ticklish - extremely ticklish - when my feet are scrubbed by someone else.

I could be wrong but I think that this is Elizabeth Rankin and Herbert Arnold Burgess, parents of my father's mother. Grandma was born in 1912.

I wonder if that was a Thursday? And what shape their feet were in.

Although, another of my forbears was a shoemaker and a daughter who is a podiatrist so perhaps better than we could expect today.

San Francisco Love Stories

 I have never been in San Francisco but it is a city where the heroine of one of my stories met the love of her life.

He was an older man, but she was an incredibly successful woman in her own right when they met in an official capacity.

They swept each other off their respective feet and he followed her into her life and, from one perspective, they formed their own perfect reality exclusive of all others until death did them part.

---

Back in the day - over 40 years ago now can you believe - I did a presentation. I must admit my poster art always let me down.

I think that is why I went into public speaking quite assiduously at that juncture.  

Other people think that they are terrified of public speaking. It's definitely not so cool to be scared of an A3 piece of purple cardboard, some maps, photos cut from magazines, markers and clag (don't even mention sticky tape or worse still, stickers).

Words I can play with and you can hardly tell when I colour outside the lines.

My presentation on San Francisco had interesting facts like the Golden Gate bridge and the Chinatown and their zigzaggiest street in the world. 

---

This is not the zigzaggiest street of SF but rather the view towards SD I snapped yesterday. Usual phone disclaimer.

I cannot remember if I mentioned the Giants and, funny thing, I married into a Padres family who are being visited this week by the San Francisco Giants. 

My lucky number is 23 - which happens to be that of one Dominican player called Fernando Tatis Jnr

OMG 😱 I just read his Wikipedia and that of his father and it was meant to be:

• Fernando was a favourite ABBA song;
• Ferdinand was the name of my favourite book about a bull that didn't want to fight (& there was a cork tree in it)
• Wasn't it?
• Snr holds a record for RBI as he hit 2 grand slams in one innings 
• ON MY BIRTHDAY 
• in 1999!
• Which was also the year that not only 'Salina was born -
• But his own son Fernando Tatis Jnr was born in that year 
• On the 2nd of January, which is a date etched in my mind as my great aunt is the first name etched in the family bible as being born over 125 years ago 
• Which is also the day after Fernando Tatis (thereafter known as Snr) turned 24
• Snr was born the year that I started primary school.
• Jnr played an absolute BLINDER today and helped to smash the Giants tonight.

So not every love story has a happy ending for all involved. The Padres fans loved it. Should I get a number 23 Padres shirt, there would definitely be a happy ending.

---

In other non-SF related news - today I got a haircut and we had enchiladas and tomorrow we may get pedicures and manicures and go to a bookstore.

Yours truly sporting the latest style from my MILs salon.

What is not to love about a holiday?