Keeping your head down

 There are times in lives when you must live by the rule of keeping your head down and your nose clean.

Some people have long stints of it. Imagine living in a war zone! For some it's a way of life. There are those who fake the confidence and keep plates spinning . And then those who have a spike in merde attached to shorter periods.

Like for about 18 hours of my day today.

I heard the dishwasher in the wee hours singing a happy tune.

I heard V get up before me. He had a torrid few hours the night before for this reason and that.

I heard the cat.

Image: meme of Condescending Mediaeval Owls

These were not intrusive sounds. I did not know they were the sinister harbingers of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I do exaggerate.

But when I went in to my usually empty pre-dawn kitchen my husband greeted me with "happy birthday" and "where do we keep the tea now".

This in itself was in no way terrible. And yet this scene could really be used to juxtapose against the future horrors.

My sister messaged. Again, in no way an issue. We generally get a lot of chitter and reel swapping and Scotland plans together.

My computer, where tasks of bureaucracy before breakfast awaited. Thursday stuff.

Or rather, a plastic box or electrical components designed to frustrate me awaited like a baited trap.

So my next two hours was battling that dragon. 

Very, VERY first world.

Then breakfast. Good. 

Then teenager.

Hmph.

There is a good dose of me in Paris. And there is a decent dose of V.

There are occasions when that combo is awesome.

And there are times when she can bring out the suboptimal teenager's mother and there are times when the suboptimal teenager's mother gets to look in the mirror.

So on the upside I didn't have to do the school run this morning. And I had an additional phone, so winning.

I did get sung to on the way to work by 'Salina. That was a bright spot.

The podcast that I am listening to on my commute stopped playing mid-sentence about a block before i got there.

The acoustics of my desk must have blocked the greeting from Keith over the divide, or perhaps the deathly silence from my workmates at the Far North of my work corridor froze the soundwaves.

It seemed like the rings of business damnation were used to heat my workload today. Email duels were enacted in my inbox. Confounding formulas required rejigs and macro dances recalibrating, whilst meetings about data pulling bled into lunch breaks and the sheer stupidity of a few added a sheen of incredulity to the whole eight hours.

Dad called for my birthday on the way home. Even when 'Salina had called him this morning to wish him a happy anniversary of being a father it took some consulting of the calendar and deduction (with a final push from my sister) before he twigged.

It's been a few years since Mum was the instigator of birthday call and song.

I did buy myself some wine and it was a label that I recognised from my range of cheap but drinkable Pinot Gris, but it was not from my old local bottle oh.

I had not made my birthday cake this year and had booked for us to go to a decent Asian restaurant.

But do you know what? I did not feel like hopping in the car to go out and nor did anyone else so 'Salina agreed to collect the order and come to ours.

Image: wait time for take away

The final twist in the tale was the restaurant gave our takeout to the lady with the little boy and brown hair who said "yes, I am Jeanie here for my order" just minutes before.

However, blessings be, the restaurant remade the order completely and it was fabulous and the store bought cake divine and presents on point and I even won the last 2 games of Uno.

One week

Image: lemon tree, very pretty, and the lemon flower so sweet

When life gives you lemons, these are the lemons you want to get.

Image: black cat on the farthest point from civilisation she could find.

G is starting to have it on a string around here. She has been reacquainted with some furniture and while we are still to some degree camping, there are bits that are starting to feel like home.

Image: meme of a post by iwansk_the_urban_hillbilly

Human: That's my coat that I need to hang up.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: That's a laptop computer.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: That's a box of important documents.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: Here. I bought you a cat bed.

Cat: I don't even know what that is.

I have heard rumours that the above is untrue, but I have never independently witnessed proof.

Late night - T+5

 Oh my. I always forget that the best laid plans etc etc...

This is actually fairly reasonable time in the morning of the day after - I hit the wall last night and slept until well after the sun was up this Sunday morning...  but why ruin a good parallel (even if I am the only one who can see it) with the truth!

So the move happened. 

While the panic merchant within me always foresees disaster (& V doubly-so), all potential missteps throughout the day were pulled out of the fire at the last minute, so we will count it all as a win.

Let me lay the deck of the last five days.

Image: a cafe table laden with food - V had corn fritters with a poached egg and avocado and Paris and I both went for the smashed avocado which is served with marinated mushrooms and feta on sourdough toast with baby spinach,a poached egg and a wedge of lemon.  The garlic on those mushrooms was next level.

 

Optimism started our Tuesday. We could do this.

 

I was tempering my urge to crack the whip for it needed a crack. However the payoff was a delicious breakfast together.

Image: higgledy-piggledy collection of furniture and mattresses that greeted us after the removalist left - thank goodness the refrigerator isn't in that mess because that may have broken us.

 

I shall not give you a blow by blow account of the day, but this is the result of some blokes wanting to knock off early. One should not have to haul furniture when you are paying someone to do so for you.  Thank goodness for Paris and her boyfriend to lend some muscle to the unearthing of beds, table and chairs.

Image: Avocado, toast with toppings, jar of marmalade and a lemon whose diameter equated to that of a piece of toast.

 

I must admit, I did not breakfast on our first full day at the new abode - I woke with my traditional "post major event" migraine that comes from running around like a headless chook and not eating and drinking properly.

 

My favourite breakfast is one slice of toast with marmalade - currently on a jar of Dad's grapefruit but previously had a cracking half-jar of lime using Mrs Breton's method. I have a prolific lime tree beside my driveway..

 

And the other slice with Vegemite, avocado, lemon juice and cracked pepper.  That lemon is courtesy of the tree on the OTHER side of my driveway.  B-L-I-S-S 

 

I was back at work on Thursday and Friday, however work is now less than a quarter hour away so I get home in time to truly enjoy a bit of afternoon and the occasional sunset. 

Image: wooden paling fence dominated by gum trees from the park beyond and a most delicious array of colours across the sky courtesy of sunset.

 

Not too shabby - although that back fence is on the "to do" list as it is probably the most rickety of all components of the new home.

 

We have been doing a bit of that - compiling the list of what needs to be ticked off.  

Image: Dawn sky backlighting power poles and palm trees with a spray of cirrocumulus (please correct me if I am wrong) clouds.  

 

Doesn't stint on the dawns either.

 

The "new washing machine" wheels were already in motion but took a little time to get the tick because a warehouse far, far away failed to send one part - we finally got a partial tick on Friday afternoon and so a lot of my Saturday (after that gorgeous dawn) was putting through laundry that had piled up since the old washing machine got sent to washing machine heaven last week. 

Image: box of clothes that I don't fit into, that neither daughter will ever wear and which I will pass along to an op shop in the hope that someone will enjoy

 

I have let go of some memory boxes and considered it the first step towards Swedish death cleansing.  Its and tiny step when I contemplate the boxes still in the back shed to be opened and sorted through.

 

I have nearly fully set up the spare room and office, the kitchen I would declare as about 40% done (hopefully closer to 80% by the end of day today) and I have access to all of my clothes -  well, those left after a cull!

Image: boxes and cardboard packaging from the monitor.

 

Now, what do you see?

I see a robot's head , but from a slightly different angle I see a Nutcracker. Could come in handy for the "OMG we have moved to a competitive level Christmas neighbourhood" panic. Which is when we will discover just how uncrafty I am.

Image: Gangsterrr hiding out in the top of Paris' cupboard.

 

The G is still very VERY wary of the new digs.  Every bedroom has built-in cupboards with one mirror slider on each - and she is none too pleased with there being another cat in every room she visits. 

Image: as table set for two with flowers and curries and a tiny tele with a tiny man talking about gardens

While Paris was on shift last night, V and I had our first "home cooked" (well, unearthed from freezer) meal.  

This is as romantic as we get - I believe that goat compost was being discussed on our viewing of choice.  We may not extend to goat compost ourselves. 

Image: A smiling sandwich

So it may not have the beach (its now 15 minutes away), we are definitely relaxing and enjoying our new Paradise.

Work is 12 minutes away - although when school goes back tomorrow I will have to go back to leaving at the usual time unless V takes Paris in the mornings, as it is no longer "on my way" but a very slight backtrack.

Paris' work is less than 10 minutes away, saving us over an hour each shift in travel time (and the fuel!).

No more 14 stairs each time you need to go to the garden, the laundry, the car.

Ahhh,

So how was everyone else's week? 

Twas the night before

 moving 

And all through the house 

Were boxes and bags and bits and pieces yet to be done 

But I am done from the organisation exhaustion.

Of the trying to manage every moving part without looking like you are doing it.

I find the best disguise is to appear as inept as possible and they would never guess. Do never guess.

I've been successful in that subterfuge so far.

Image: flavours packed in the working pantry boxes on the waist height level of the box wall in the kitchen (Peach iced tea, pink grapefruit, lemon, lime and bitters - 3 Bickford's cordials - and Buderim ginger's ginger refresher)

I have managed to pull off quite a few items on the checklist today, but I really didn't help myself by leaving my phone in V's ute when I went to redirect mail and he the shops. 

Image: pills, keys and a box of redheads matches 

I contemplated using the payphone nearby, but there was a crazy guy on hold to a Monday & already overworked public service employee. Or maybe everyone using a payphone on a Monday afternoon exudes a certain madness. Maybe it was his Mum.

Next block two closing down signs. Both retiring, it seems.

I turned and started to walk along the main street into town in the hope of intercepting V.

Another block to the servo, and asked to use their phone to call him.

Image: an I ❤️ Paris with the Eiffel Tower pink cushion, an aqua and turquoise and gold (or whatever colour you call them) and black butterfly 🦋 cushion and a purple cushion with golden trim cushion on a faux timber background.

The guys at the servo were amazed that I knew someone's number as it seems in this day and age we are forced to think less so often. A good discussion ensued.

Image: Gangsterrrrr reclining on white laminate furniture, pink necklace showing off yellow tags highlighting the green in her eyes.

I left a voice to text message and left the servo and  not 20 metres from their door I saw V's ute sail past towards the Post Office. 

Only Four blocks, I think. He will find me about half way. I'll be fine in my "dress up for appointments in town and nice slip on shoes that are fine for nothing so serious as a seven block walk level too serious" outfit and shoes.

How quaint and old fashioned, I thought. No photo opportunities, no notifications, no "I should look up" interruptions or other people's ideas.

My big toe on my left foot by the fifth block began to whine just a little bit. That was annoying.

Image: Gangsterrrrr investigates rocks in the backyard of Paradise.

The sixth block had this beautiful arbour of eucalypts at one point, completely crazy because they had a severe flattop just below the powerlines.

By Seven I was resigned to walking the rest of the way.

I turned towards home and could see the driveway V had not yet arrived home.

I climbed the fourteen steps for one of the last times as he pulled in.

My right foot told me that it too was putting a complaint in to the union.

Image: meme borrowed shamelessly from the internet. If it's yours all credit to you ma'am or sir, you are quicker and wittier than I. It says "hi, sorry it took me five days to get back to your text. I myself am understaffed at the moment"

And tonight as I lay in bed avoiding my brain taking me through the list that I have to do tomorrow, my Gluteus Maximus, hips and the tendon straps holding them together have a chanting chorus that is not complimentary to the footwear of choice this afternoon.

My beautiful, gorgeous, talented, genius, hilarious and perfect daughter has just been told to go to bed, and so should I.

This time tomorrow..

We are entering the lasts...

Image: a black cat, young and sweet, supervises the packing, working out where she could fit.

It wasn't a very Eastery Easter, was it? Well, not for me. There is a lot to digest in the world right now. That and, well, we are moving in 8 days.

So driving, gathering and feasting were low on the priority list.

Image: yes, Ms Gangsterrrrr, I am aware of the too much stuff too little room theory of relativity.

Mind you, while I have had a weekend of pedalling furiously, I fear that little of it got results.

So the teensy tiny bit of socialising that I did have was welcome.

Image: artful organisation of boxes to allow a little black cat a few hidey holes.

Still, it's going to happen whether I am ready or not.

This whole move thing.

Image: she'll be apples - or maybe pears on special at a local Coles.

It has also unearthed artifacts of us, our civilisation of this ground for 19 1/2 years.

One of the memories unearthed was of printing and sticking labels onto school stationery. Suddenly, whilst realising that while we would never do that in Paradise again, I also realised that I may never cover stationary again. 

How liberating.

Image: may be the last pikelets cooked at Chez Paradise - but definitely the first cooked in the you beaut frypan Dad picked up in a "two for the price of one" tv deal.

I do make a mean pikelet though, and am looking forward to continue that in - what should the next place be called?

Image: apologies to Mum and my grandmothers for the language - but they would have appreciated the sentiment.

To work tomorrow - heigh ho. Four days to next five day stretch in which the move will happen.