Author: ThirdCat

a meme from meli

The lovely meli tagged me for this meme. She has tagged me before, and I’ve never done the memes. Mostly just because I’ve never got around to them, not because I don’t think she’s lovely. You’ve nearly all done it by now, but here’s my answers:

What was I doing 10 years ago?

2007. Just returned to Adelaide. I was: still thinking that I would always be able to speak Spanish; believing that having had my first story published in a Penguin anthology, my second story would be snapped up no problemos; planning to have a child, deciding not to have a child, planning to have a child etc etc; being gobsmacked by mister’s extravagance when he bought a bottle of Grange; going to a lot of films; thinking to self ‘if I don’t get my first novel published by the time I’m 30 it means I’m a miserable failure; wishing that Melrose Place had never had to end; writing a really appalling novel (honestly, it had a scene where these two young people sat on a cliff looking out to sea and wondering – out loud of course – how people could be so unkind).

Five snacks I enjoy in a perfect, non weight-gaining world:

I go to the gym and now live in a perfect, non-weight gaining world

Five snacks I enjoy in the real world :

Cheese of all descriptions (even that stuff that comes in the blue box and is wrapper in alfoil – do they still make that); cashew nuts and almonds; anything the mister brings me with my cup of tea while I am watching Tony Jones.

Five things I would do if I were a billionaire:

Get extra solar panel for Kangaroo Island residence, allowing use of three lights and fridge all at the same time; have servant to draw curtains and bath at my request; good works; get in my jet plane to meet James Spader for lunch; set up own publishing company with editor who would never reject my work.

Five jobs that I have had:

Project officer, youth services librarian, manager of Community Aid Abroad shop, executive officer, temporary electorate officer to local member of parliament while permanent electorate officer took annual leave.

Three of my habits:

Blogging, checking bloglines, refreshing bloglines

Five places I have lived:

Clare, Port Pirie, Auckland, Parkside, Blackwood

Five people I want to get to know better: (A nice way of saying TAG!)

yes, well, like I say, I think everyone has done it by now. But fifi hasn’t. You all read fifi’s blog, don’t you? You should be if you’re not. Jennifer. Her blog is excellent too. Unique, thought-provoking stuff. Also, she’s an actuary. I don’t know any other actuaries. Deborah is from New Zealand and lives in Adelaide. I used to be from Adelaide and live in New Zealand. She writes very interesting things and I keep meaning to ask her if she’d like to have a coffee at the Art Gallery sometime. Mikhela‘s just had twins, so she hasn’t got anything much to do. I’m sure she’ll have time for a meme. And finally, tut-tut. She’s trying to find a good home for a lovely dog. But we live too far away.

Youse don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Also, no idea why the formatting and fonts are all over the shop like that, and I don’t really have the inclination to find out.

Nothing a couple of panadol won’t fix

Its enormity, which I believed I understood, has been settling on me in waves.

Like yesterday, as I sat at the side of the bed of a man I love, a woman I have been smiling at all week but whose name I do not know, stopped and said ‘we’re going home’. Her nod, her smile, her look were small. ‘It’s at that point. There’s nothing more they can do for him’. I don’t speak because there is no need and because this time is hers.

I wonder how much more there is I am yet to understand. And how I ever will.

And then, in bed at seven, because I couldn’t stand or sit or think, my boys snuggled in with me. They brought me a glass of water, did sums together, took turns to pat me, and when the mister got home (delayed by fog) they said ‘shhhh…Mum’s got a thumping head’.

Told you I was sick…

Nah, really, the gym didn’t kill me. In fact, I went back this morning and almost enjoyed myself. Plus, I went to Sydney for a couple of days, had a meeting, saw a submarine and two whales in the harbour, used the hotel gym and got chatted up. I jest not. Along the lines of ‘haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’ Good grief.

My mind has been occupied with such questions as ‘how many more people are going to write letters to the editor talking about how we shouldn’t have maternity leave because not everyone will use it’? It is true that not everyone will use it. But thankfully, not everyone uses workcover either. Not everyone needs an unemployment benefit. Also, howcome our arts minister is making weird comments about art, but our sports minister sees no need to comment on poor attitudes to women (in my opinion, bordering on violence against women) as displayed on certain television shows.

Geese, the world is full of geese. And whales.

Am also very busy trying to act like an adult all the while feeling that certain elements of my existence are being given no respect and that particular important relationships are being given no oxygen. Life is complicated, no?

My boys are absolutely gorgeous at the moment. They give me spontaneous hugs and kisses and make up jokes to make me laugh.

The dog is slightly better trained, though he is still getting on the table to look for food scraps (of which there is a great many, this being one of those houses where the dishes do not get taken straight to the sink).

I am considering taking up golf though the mister feels that I will feel myself out of place.

I got a speeding ticket – the first one I have ever had. Nearly two hundred dollars. It made the twenty dollar parking ticket hurt less.

The mister rocks. He is also a rock. From time to time his rock-ness gives me the shits. But more often than not, his rock-ness keeps me keep-on keeping-on.

It is not a good time to be trying to sell a house. It is never a good time to be selling a house on someone else’s behalf.

And all the while, I am madly trying to write putting the finishing touches on my first solo show for its debut in August.

The colour-coded books are beginning to look most ace. Photos to come, hopefully after this weekend when I get them all finished.

New age TV

So, even though our television is circa 1988, we watch it the modern way. By waiting until things are way finished and then watching them back to back on DVD. We have been watching The West Wing. The result was a lot of late nights, because of that whole ‘just one more?’ thing. But I very much like watching things this way. It’s a lot more like reading a book than watching television.

Now we’re watching Love My Way. We haven’t finished The West Wing – we’ve still got series five and six to go – but no one feels like going to JB hi-fi right now to get series five. And since Love My Way was just sitting there waiting to be watched, we started on that.

I’ve got a small dilemma. The mister, who doesn’t know anything about such things unless I tell him, has no idea what is about to happen in Love My Way. And I’m not sure whether I should tell him. On the one hand, at least he’ll be prepared. He’s very bad at death and infedility. But on the other, he’s really gonna chuck the shits if I say ‘just one more’ and he stays up later than he wants to, and then…well, you know…

I guess it will resolve itself one way or another over the next couple of days.

And that’s fifteen minutes of my life I’ll never get back

This morning, I have been threading a shoelace through a shoe.

It all began when the dog chewed a significant length of the shoelace. The shoelace was too long anyway. But still.

The shoelaces are not old, but in the shoes of a boy who has fallen in love with soccer, they have fallen into a state of disrepair which, in combination with the efforts of the dog, left them difficult to lace.

I had to use a darning needle, a fork, and a well-time lashing of the mister’s patient follow-through.

But the shoelaces are now much easier to tie, and also do not need a triple knot to keep them almost not long enough to trip over a soccer-playing boy.