Author: awmalloyadmin

Phee had the day off school today, a ‘curriculum day’ for her teachers, and thanks to a particularly fine display of attitude last night wasn’t allowed to watch a DVD, or television, today. By 10:00 am she was moping on the couch, looking at the television that steadfastly refused to turn on no matter how hard she wished.

Seeing Miss Grump sitting there I scooped up Bert, piled them both in the car and headed off down to Williamstown to the library. Now I haven’t been a library member in a very, very long time. I generally buy books I want to read (ah, the carefree life of a childless single person) or having a lovely wife who previously worked in a library all I had to do was drop an email and the book, on a seemingly never ending loan, would magically appear on the dinner table that night. I took along the only bill I have with my address on it (bugger, it’s a week overdue) and after finding the book I was after (The Slot Car Bible) and joined up.

Oh me oh my. How things have changed. Way back when, about 20 years ago, I remember you were allowed 3 books at a time from the good old Shepparton library and now it’s 25 books, plus DVDs, plus CDs. And there’s tech – no more date stamps and flaps of paper inside the front cover; it’s all self serve barcodes, scanners and tiny thermal printers. As Rae reads this blog I’m not even going to mention that the age of librarians seems to have decreased and cuteness levels vastly increased. These days there seems to be a lot to be said for being well read.

It’s either a sign I’m getting old or that I need to head back to work.

Browsing a rewards catalogue today I got excited that we almost had enough points to get a bagless vacuum cleaner.

Tomorrow I’m going to go and blow my whole allowance on something I completely don’t need with shiny buttons to push just to make sure I’m still me.

It’s not often you’ll miss a rental agent, but we will this time. After our last horrid encounter with agents from Barlow McEwan and Tribe in Newport we thought all agents were to be despised and mistrusted. Not so with Century 21 Wilson Pride in Yarraville. They were great, Jody especially so. We’ll miss her helpful calls and always happy manner ’cause now we’ve got our full bond back the old place is finally history.

Okay, that was odd.

I was sitting in the arm chair with Ready, Steady, Cook on the telly. Janelle starts to whip up a batch of pikelets and just after she gives the recipe I nod off. 5 minutes late I wake up and decided I have to make pikelets. I remember her recipe so throw stuff in a bowl (no measuring cups, which is not how I normally cook), mix it up and now I have a pile of pikelets sitting on a plate and dishes to do.

I have no idea why I made them. At least I know now that Bert likes pikelets.

 

What a perfect morning. Glorious autumnal Melbourne day, sun shining, bay perfectly still, not a breath of wind. I packed up the boy and we headed down to Williamstown.
I was going to head to the beach but at the last minute decided to go touristy instead. We strolled along Nelson Place, looked in Seagulls book store, took a stroll out along the pier, sat in the park while he had his morning rusk, strolled back down the other side of Nelson place and wandered back to the car. The car was parked in front of a school playground and it was recess time. Hundreds of noisy, running, jumping, yelling kids pelting around in front of us. Bert was mesmerised – so many ‘Phoebes’ to play with – he just sat in my arms and grinned.

It’s times like this that make me really wish I didn’t have to work (and that I had brought my camera).

I was playing with a phone spammer this evening.

“I am calling from Melbourne.” she says, talking on a VOIP line that could only be coming from the deepest darkest depths of Bombay.

“Oh, a lovely town.” Say I.

“Yes, even Victoria is a lovely town.” she says.

Click.

Last night was the first two cat night for 2006. I’m not sure what the temperature dropped to but Bella finally made her way to the bed (Tom has been sleeping with us for a while now, poor old man). Of course, being a Daddy’s girl, Bella slept at my side and with Tom between us I had no room to move but there’s no complaints here; we both think having a cat sleep on your bird bed is one of the highest honours a cat can bestow.

It’s funny that Daniel should mention emergency wards in his post this morning, ’cause that’s exactly where I ended up last night. I mentioned in my previous post that I had been having troubles with my foot. Taking the day off on Sunday seemed to do it good and by Monday afternoon it was feeling positively fine so I decided to walk a whole block to send of an invoice. All was going well until I took one step too many and I felt something go pop-pop-pop under my heel. I hobbled home, a two minute stroll took about ten minutes and plonked myself down on the couch.

It ended up feeling so bad I headed off to emergency with Brother-In-Law-Of-The-Year nominee Rob. Two hours, a set of xrays and a pair of crutches (not to mention a swipe of the Mastercard) later I was home with strict instructions to stay off the foot for two days. Now that’s easier said than done when you are the stay at home parent of a bouncing 8 month old. A lot easier said. A whole military like operation has swung in to effect. Local Nana is taking  Bert today, Rae is going to be late for work, Rural Nana is being trained in to town to take over tomorrow and I’m stuck here on the couch; leg up, wireless network on and seven episodes of Battlestar Galactica, season 1, ready to go.

I’m not at the Doggies v Bombers game today. I’m not sitting in the magnificent seats my mate Robin leant us for the day. I’m not enjoying an overpriced yet welcome beer or listening to 774 or marking the score in The Record. No, Rae and Stink are doing all of that but I’m not.

All because I didn’t listen to my wife.

For a long time now I’ve had a little niggle with my left foot. Nothing serious, just seemed to seize up when I had been sitting still for a while. Then it began to get a little bit more seized at smaller intervals. Hmmm, I mentioned to this to Rae who wisely suggested I should go and see the doctor. I didn’t. The foot got worse. I thought it would get better. It didn’t. Recently I’ve begun to limp – it hurts to walk and for the past few weeks Rae has been at me and at me to make an appointment. I mean, I work at a hospital – it’s not that hard. But I didn’t make one until I finally gave in last Thursday and called.

This was a good idea because this long weekend I’ve barely been able to walk and my foot is throbbing with pain even as I sit here with it up. I wouldn’t have made it up the steps to Telstra Dome, let alone walking from the car. So here I am, watching the game on the telly and listening to Albert sing to his toys while Rae and Phee cheer on the Dogs, just metres from the boundary line.

One day I will learn my lesson, one day.

Everyone, as the wise old proverb goes, needs good neighbours. It’s one thing when you move house that you can’t control but thankfully with this move we seem to have hit a winner. Last night was bin night, this morning as I fed Bert I could hear the truck collecting the garbage and recycling. I’m fairly sure they haven’t invested in new technology that allows bins to be placed back behind a fence so it seems our kindly old neighbour, Joe, to whom I introduced myself the other day, has tucked our bins away for us.

This place may yet turn out to be a home, not just a house.