Anthony Malloy Between Coffees

2005.

Happy New Year to all!

Except to the idiots setting off fireworks in the next block, scaring our cats and every dog within cooee. But I’m sure that’s not you so happy new year.

If I was any more relaxed I’d be comatose.

Today was spent upgrading Rae’s PC with a new CD burner and operating system. Bye bye Windows 98, hello Windows 2000 Professional. I did manage to get the lawns mown in between a visit from Rob and some Simpsons Hit and Run on the Xbox.

Now the lawn is trim and the weather is on the improve I think tomorrow may be hammock day. God it’s going to be tough going back to work.

72.

That’s the number of hours I went without sitting at a computer. No internet, no blogs, no podcasts, no email. Amazingly I am still functioning and obviously back.

I had a magnificent Christmas. Scored a great deal of great loot (Dr Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker are now resident on my office desk) and was spoilt rotten by my gal who managed to get two great tickets to see Paul Kelly and Deborah Conway on the same bill at A Day On The Green at All Saints Winery just outside of Rutherglen. If this doesn’t make me the luckiest guy in the world I have no idea what does.

We then spent a few days up in Shepp doing bugger all. We’d get up and read the papers, then go down the street to grab a coffee from the new Hudsons (and I know should be supporting a good local cafe, but you show me where you can get a consistently good coffee in Shepparton and I’ll support them. Besides, I want a ‘free’ travel mug). Then we’d read some more before having a bit more of read to recover from the days reading before heading off to bed for a little night reading.

Now we’re home and the cats seem happy enough to see us. We’ll probably spend the last few days of 2004 getting this house in to some sort of order. After which we’ll probably sit down and read a little more.

Lying in the sun on a (new) hammock under a clear blue sky listening to some podcasts on the Ipod while watching jets fly off to destinations unknown.

Merry Christmas one and all.

Q: And if disaster strikes? The age-old question — what happens if you forget the corkscrew?
A: There actually is a way to get the cork out of a bottle without pushing it through. Take the bottle, and remove the foil. Then start banging it gently on a carpeted floor. What you do is create pressure, and it may take you 20 minutes to do it, but you will get the cork halfway up, and then you can pull it the rest of the way. It’s a great trick.

Source : Business Week Online

But who can be bothered waiting 20 minutes to open a bottle of wine?

RFC membership card, 2005.

It’s the 21st of December,
Now they’re ringing the last bells.

Happy Gravy Day everyone.

Wow, I’m beginning to think I don’t really know Rae. Not only did she try to kill me on the weekend she is now demonstrating a previously unknown sadistic streak.

I mean, how else do you explain her leaving a can of ‘Ocean Platter’ cat food in front of the fish tank for two days. No wonder the fish is stressed,.

Rae is trying to kill me. I have explicit instructions to follow from the doctor and she is telling me I’m not allowed to. She’s even taken over the very thing that is supposed to make me better and won’t let me have it.

I went to the doctor to get a certificate ’cause I left work early yesterday. During the conversation he told me the way to get over this virus was to “sit in front of the cricket with a bike bottle of water and drink it”.

Rae has the telly on Blazing Saddles and is refusing to change it to the cricket so if I never get better and die it’s all going to be her fault.

Me, I just do what the doctor tells me.

You’ve all seen Duel? The Dennis Weaver must have felt ’cause I was chased home from work today by a house.

All the way along Dandenong Rd, up Kings Way and over the bridge all I could see was a house in the rear view mirror, no matter what I did there it was, bearing down on me. I gave it the slip at Melbourne Rd. It was last seen heading out of the city, no doubt looking for another victim.

Evil things those car hunting houses.