Thursday, 9 August 2012
Monday, 6 August 2012
We have landed
After the years of planning, months of packing, weeks of cleaning, and days of eating strange meals made from random tins from the back of the cupboard, we are now in England.
And after all the hype and all the excitement, being home with my family for the first time in two years is - in the best way possible - kind of an anti-climax.
My brother still jumps out at me from behind doors; my mum still thinks a small portion of food is a loaf of bread each filled with most of a kilo of bacon; my dad still thinks his dog is a super species; and my youngest brother still seems to manage to sneak up on me without me noticing.
Home sweet home.
Thursday, 19 July 2012
Making your own amusements
Ben decided two days ago (probably quite rightly but I'm not at the stage to admit it) that now is the perfect time to varnish all the floors in the house.
Phone call between us as I drove home from work yesterday (hands free, mum):
Me: Hey, which door am I allowed to go through to get into the house so I don't step on something I'm not supposed to?
Ben: Ah, the front one. And then you'll have to squeeze past the lounge.
Me, knowing the lounge is on it's end taking up the whole corridor space: Ok. Can do. And then where can I go?
Ben: That's it.
Me: What do you mean?
Ben: I mean I've done all the rooms. You are only allowed in the hallway.
Me: Ben?
Ben: Yes.
Me: Why would I come home just to stand in the hallway?
But stand in the hallway I did. Or rather, I made a nest out of our upright mattress, all the sofa cushions and all our bedding.
Ben was ever so proud of himself for thinking of leaving the computer and our books in an accessible spot, you know, so we didn't go without luxuries.
He had also thought through dinner. Earlier in the day he had put all the ingredients for one of his nearly-famous stews in a pot. Then at 5 o'clock, all he had to do was put it in the oven:
After this manoeuvre, he went back outside to finish some jobs. I'm going to admit it, by this stage, I was craving a cup of tea. And having seen Ben climb onto the kitchen bench from the hallway I figured I could do it too.
I stretched myself from the hallway to the bench top so I could get a good handhold on the kitchen top. This meant me being at about a 45 degree angle. Not drastic but definitely committed.
Next step, in my mind, was to engage core and upper body strength and lift weight onto arms/kitchen bench.
What actually happened is that when I lifted my legs, I pendulummed into the end of the kitchen bench, left knee forward, taking the full hit.
The next bit is predictable if you know me. If you don't, you should know that:
1. I get the giggles when I hurt myself
2. I get the giggles if I think Ben is going to get mad at me
The result was that I was a mess. I just hung off the end of kitchen bench racked with nervous, manic waves of laughter and a throbbing left knee for probably a full minute. I don't know how I didn't collapse and the whole thing end in divorce.
It was a good cuppa though.
Phone call between us as I drove home from work yesterday (hands free, mum):
Me: Hey, which door am I allowed to go through to get into the house so I don't step on something I'm not supposed to?
Ben: Ah, the front one. And then you'll have to squeeze past the lounge.
Me, knowing the lounge is on it's end taking up the whole corridor space: Ok. Can do. And then where can I go?
Ben: That's it.
Me: What do you mean?
Ben: I mean I've done all the rooms. You are only allowed in the hallway.
Me: Ben?
Ben: Yes.
Me: Why would I come home just to stand in the hallway?
But stand in the hallway I did. Or rather, I made a nest out of our upright mattress, all the sofa cushions and all our bedding.
Ben was ever so proud of himself for thinking of leaving the computer and our books in an accessible spot, you know, so we didn't go without luxuries.
He had also thought through dinner. Earlier in the day he had put all the ingredients for one of his nearly-famous stews in a pot. Then at 5 o'clock, all he had to do was put it in the oven:
After this manoeuvre, he went back outside to finish some jobs. I'm going to admit it, by this stage, I was craving a cup of tea. And having seen Ben climb onto the kitchen bench from the hallway I figured I could do it too.
I stretched myself from the hallway to the bench top so I could get a good handhold on the kitchen top. This meant me being at about a 45 degree angle. Not drastic but definitely committed.
Next step, in my mind, was to engage core and upper body strength and lift weight onto arms/kitchen bench.
What actually happened is that when I lifted my legs, I pendulummed into the end of the kitchen bench, left knee forward, taking the full hit.
The next bit is predictable if you know me. If you don't, you should know that:
1. I get the giggles when I hurt myself
2. I get the giggles if I think Ben is going to get mad at me
The result was that I was a mess. I just hung off the end of kitchen bench racked with nervous, manic waves of laughter and a throbbing left knee for probably a full minute. I don't know how I didn't collapse and the whole thing end in divorce.
It was a good cuppa though.
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Dear Husband
Dear husband, yesterday was our second year anniversary and before I left for work you:
1. Got my travel mug from the car without me asking, you just heard me swearing to myself,
2. Threw a well-aimed toast-soldier at me when I came back into the house because I had forgotten my phone,
3. Didn't remember it was our anniversary.
Luckily, I love you to the moon and back for the first two points and don't give a damn about the last.
Here's to many more years m'dear xxx
PS. Do the nice things I'm saying mean I'll be forgiven for the photo?
Monday, 2 July 2012
Smile
As a result, whenever I jog past someone, I grin like a loon.
It is amazing how many people don't smile back. So recently I've upped it a notch and I entertain myself by saying Hello or Good Afternoon to people as I go by.
Nothing.
Yesterday was Sunday so there were way more people on my usual route than normal. And only one person out of the twenty or so I went past responded.
Now I know I go a funny colour when I run, and I know that I should save my breath for the actual exercise, and I know most people around here are overweight and might think I am mocking them but seriously, a less than 5% response rate!?
Get a grip folks - make a connection - smile - respond to people around you. Yes, even the crazy jogger.
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