Anthony Malloy

It’s on again but a bit later this year. Today I saw some fencing heading up the road and over the bridge to Albert Park for the Grand Prix. I think I read somewhere that due to the Commonwealth Games they have to set up the track and the mothball it for three weeks. Guess that as I’m not driving to work this year I won’t get to see the bridge going up over Kings Way either.

Wow, I looked at my blog yesterday and realised it had been over a week since I had posted anything. That’s scary. It seems like only a day or two had passed.

We have been busy though. It’s less than two weeks now ’til I gets me a wife. We’ve been organising the day; meeting with the celebrant, finalising the movie and cinema, making sure the café we are going to remembers they are meant to be feeding us. It’s all pretty much done – and it’s been remarkably stress free. I guess we knew what we wanted to do, have ditched pretty much all the ‘wedding’ essentials that you are told make a wedding and made it the day we want. Not having to sweat over details we don’t want to sweat over sure makes life a lot easier.

Oh boy. A BBQ, couple of bottles of champagne and now Rob and I are sitting in the shade in the backyard listening to each other’s Itunes library. He’s got his mac laptop, I’ve got my Windows lappy and we’ve joined up over my wireless network. Ah, what a life.

Happy birthday my love.

There are some people who wonder why we follow football teams, say that it means nothing, that it’s just a silly game.

To those people I say take a look at the photos below (from the Tiger web site).

When it is the wish of a boy, who will the next day lose his sight in an operation to save his life, to see his favourite players, and to know this will be one of the last things he will most likely ever have the memory of seeing…well, it brought a tear to this Tiger dad’s eye. (Post operation news.)

One of the things about my dad was the way he’d drink his beer. I think I only ever saw him with a stubby or can in has hand twice, and I can’t honestly say I ever saw him drink from one – Dad only ever drank his beer from a glass. He had two glasses that he seemed to prefer, a glass stein for the afternoon beer and occasionally a long glass, both embossed with the Kiwanis symbol.

I’ve always been a straight from the stubby man myself, although Steve wouldn’t approve that I generally plonk it in a (Richmond) stubby holder, but this is beginning to change. Lately I’ve been drinking Pepsi with loads of ice in a tall glass and tonight I poured a beer in to a glass and was surprised at how much better it tasted. Almost a year since he’s gone and I’m becoming more and more like my dad; that’s something to drink to.

I don’t know how I do it but I always seem to be home on the day Americans have their Superbowl thingy. It’s on again this morning so I’ll probably have it playing in the background, no use in having the sound on ’cause the game makes absolutely no sense to me, but it’s always a spectacle. I think I was home last year when it was on and I was definitely home two years ago on the occasion of the infamous ‘wardrobe malfunction’ because that was the day after we moved in to this house (happy anniversary house!). I never would have thought as I watched Janet Jackson flash the USA that two years later I’d be permanently at home looking after my new baby boy.

And now, this from a special guest blogger, The Mysterious ‘N’.

When taking your 2 year old child to Buddy’s soft-play area, don’t leave the main play hall intent on finding the football results. What will happen is that you will notice the TV is tuned to the bloody rugby. So you will happen to notice a hi-fi sitting just outside the main play hall door. Thinking this is not being used, you will switch it from CD to Tuner and start fiddling.

Having located the right station, you will then be annoyed to find that you can’t hear it. You will then begin to turn up the volume until you reach maximum.

What will then happen is that among the many small children in the play hall, the lucky ones will die, while the rest will bleed profusely from the ears and the others will be permanently plagued by toxic-shock syndrome.

You will then realise that the hi-fi you’ve been fiddling with is the main PA for the 5000-sq-m play hall.

N

I crunched my bare foot in to the end of our bed today and it feels like I’ve broken the little toe on my left foot. Hopefully it’s only badly bruised. Hurts like hell either way.

(I know, I have a funny toe, it’s genetic.)