Anthony Malloy

It’s not often you are surprised (in a good way) by your gas or electricity provider, and it’s even less often that you’re impressed. There was an envelope from Origin in the PO Box today so, as I do with each of their envelopes, I took a deep breath before opening it. To my surprise it wasn’t a bill. It was a letter,

The letter was about feedback they had received from door to door salespeople and how their customers weren’t impressed so they have done something about it. They included three ‘Do Not Knock’ stickers, as released by the Consumer Action Law Centre, that when attached to the front of your house make it illegal for door knockers to, well, knock on your door. There are three stickers, one of which matches our house colour scheme perfectly so we can now look forward to interruption free evenings.

Thanks Origin. Now there’s a phrase I never thought I’d utter.

It’s one of my favourite times of the year, pre-Christmas catalogue season. Our catalogue guy just wheeled his trolley past and dropped the mother load in to our letter box; 17 catalogues and one local newspaper! I’ve already divided the catalogues in to Essential, Possible, For Rae and Car-Related (ie straight to the recycle bin) and they’re waiting for me on the kitchen table. It may be time for afternoon tea, a long afternoon tea at that.

There’s one source of marital discord in our house and that’s our children’s football team. We’ve divided them fairly (one boy/one girl) each but Bert has been displaying disturbing Bulldogs tendencies thanks to being taken to games by his mum and nana. I’ve begun to try clawing him back by taking him to Tiger games but the allure of nana was proving strong.

Then, today, Bert drew me a picture.

He may yet be mine.

At last, a plant/tree we can’t kill. I was out, um, watering the lemon tree this morning when I noticed something – our very first lemon! Given our house is the place where all plants come to die it’s a major achievement and has made me disproportionately happy. Here it is, our Lemon Of Hope.

Not everyone is on Facebook and I want to be able to stumble upon this picture years down the track so, for those who haven’t already seen it, here is how my Tiger girl fell asleep last night, dreaming sweet Tiger dreams.

Go on, ask me what sort of phone you should buy.

Their parent’s genes run strong in these boys.

Rae renewed the Age subscription yesterday, it was supposed to expire on November 12. I get to read it most days while I have breakfast and we would buy it Thursday and the Weekends anyway so it’s not much more to have it delivered 7 days a week. With taking Bert to and from school next year I may loose my reading time so we’ll revaluate then.

But that’s not what I wanted to write about.

When Rae renewed the gentleman on the phone said it would take 10 days for the renewal to take effect. 10 days! How on earth can it take that long? Credit card payment is instant (or should be!). Do they employ someone to walk from the call centre to my local newsagent to let them know to keep on delivering? Do they only release the pigeons once every 10 days? I can not for the life of my conceive how it could take 10 days for The Age to notify my newsagent. That’s just ridiculous.

I’m in a quandary. (That would be a great name for a suburb. “Where do you live?” “Inaquandry”) I went to see my doctor today and I’m not sure what to do next because I don’t think I have confidence in him any more. I went a couple of weeks ago because the arm I broke back in June is still painful. I went off and had the x-rays like a good boy and because the x-rays were apparently all clear the problem was solved and all I have to do is wait for it to get better. Five months after breaking it and it still hurts but there’s no problem. He just didn’t seem to listen.

I went back today and saw the same doctor. First thing was for the damage I did to my shoulder last week. I explained how most of the time it wasn’t a problem but when it was, oh boy, it hurts like nothing on earth. He felt the bicep and tricep, said there was nothing wrong with how it felt and that I just have to wait for it get better. Now Ren was here on Monday night hand heard the scream as I tried to pick up our doona. I’m sure she  can tell you, there is something wrong and now I’m too scared to use my left arm.

There was another problem I wanted checked out but again he just didn’t seem to listen to what my actual symptoms were. He’s sent me away for a couple of tests for a condition for which I have no symptoms. My four sisters and one of my nieces have all been treated for what I think it may be, and all of my symptoms match that condition. I mentioned this but it was dismissed straight away. I know I’m not a doctor, I know not to diagnose myself but a pattern of not listening to what I’m saying and telling me nothing’s wrong when I know that  something is has me concerned.

Should I have the tests/procedures he has recommended or should I get a second opinion? Decisions, decisions.

It’s Cup Day. We’re having a chicken and champagne brunch. The Moet is the first bottle to go. Thanks for the special bubbly my love.