I got my group certificate this week and it was quite a shock. I don’t think I’ve earned this little in a financial year since I started full time work all those years ago. Of course it’s only due to me taking half a year off on vastly reduced pay but it was still a surprise to realise I’ve been a kept man for this past six months. Up side is that i should get a nice return this year.
Grown Up Glasses
A week and a half after returning to work and we are slowly getting our groove in place. I’d probably be a lot more settled if I could get over my one big obsession at the moment and concentrate on things like cleaning the house and feeding the family.
I’m obsessed with wine glasses.
It all started when we visited Michelton for Mothers Day this year. We did some tastings at the cellar door and they supplied us with magnificent tasting glasses. This got me thinking about the glasses we use for drinking at home. They are not magnificent. They are actually quite terrible – I think I bought them just out of uni. Poor, starting up a house they did the job. Thick, poorly shaped – they may even have come from Ikea if I remember properly. Oh dear. Now I’ve written that they seem even worse.
Any way. The thought that I am now a grown up and I should have proper red wine drinking glasses has not left my mind. At the time I was on leave and on considerably less than half pay, so it wasn’t an option to go out and splurge then. Now, two months later, I can barely think of anything else. I went down the street today to buy a set only to find the shop had shut down while I was away. Unbelievable. Now I’m getting desperate – if anyone can point me in the direction of a shop that’s open tomorrow and has glasses in stock I will be forever in your debt, and I’ll pour you a glass of red in thanks.
Whose Your Daddy?
Last night Bert and I were bachelor boys as both of the girls were out. Doing what all young men about town do we hopped in the car and went out too.
It was while having dinner at The Coat that it happened for the first time. Kaz came over and told me that the lovely Claire had forgotten my name and I was referred to as ‘um, Bert’s dad’. It may have been the first time but I guess it won’t be the last.
All Good Things
The time has come. I’ve hung my jeans, stowed the slippers, cancelled the paper delivery, checked my swipe is in the car, checked my work clothes still fit (yeah!), bought a new pair of shoes and as a final symbolic act, had a shave.
Tomorrow I head back to full time work.
The past five months at home with Bert have been the happiest of my life. Getting married in that time also helped, of course, and even a move couldn’t bring the time down. I have enjoyed every single second, right down to the nappies and very occasional sleepless night. As his mum put him to bed tonight he looked at me, smiled and said “Dada”.
I’m so going to miss my boy.
Going Potty
Mum has come to visit for a couple of days. It’s lovely to have clothes ironed, little cakes made (yes Marita, they’re superb) and the kids well and truly smothered with affection.
Last night as we headed off to bed mum asked if I had a book for her to read. Hmmmm. There’s a challenge as our reading tastes differ considerably to mum’s – a lot of history, biographies, Ian Rankin, Iain Banks…nothing that mum would really be in to. And then I spotted it. Harry Potter. Mum said she couldn’t put it down last night so we’ll be sending her home with the first three to keep her going. Those books truly know no age boundaries.
Sign Of The Times
We all went for another stroll today, this time around Seddon and Footscray. I managed to get some pictures to start my ‘Old Signs on Buildings‘ collection, the start of what will hopefully be an ongoing project.
One thing the hour or so we spent walking taught me – my foot is not well. Back to the doctor I go.
a quickr pickr post
Flannelette Time
As my love has already pointed out I am a recent convert to the way of the flannelette pyjama. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to be seduced by the flannelettish goodness. My one question though – what is the earliest one can pop in to their pyjamas for a nice night in front of the telly or reading, or is it more a function of the time, date and outside temperature?
Congratulations
The Kids
a quickr pickr post
