I haven’t had enough to drink today

“Miss, tell him to shut up. He keeps telling everyone I did two of his mates.”

“Ignore him, Miss Year 7, he has ASD (and more) and he will soon move onto something else.”

“But Miss, it is true. I did.”

 

I passed it up the line, to those who earn the big money. I just hope that her conception of “did his mates” is different to mine, but I fear not.

 

 

 

 

oh just a morsel then…

I feel a bit ripped off by the weekend. It was very social. I find being nice exhausting and so by the end of the weekend I was feeling depleted. Happy but depleted as only an introvert can be!

Saturday we collected the exercise bike from a former colleague, a lovely woman who was so kind to me during my very first teaching job. It seems so long ago, and it was such a difficult time that I almost walked away from teaching before I even really started. However, Colleague and I have kept in touch through social media, and the gifting of the exercise bike meant a trip to the city and a good twenty minutes of polite conversation in her driveway as Mr FD loaded the bike into the back of our car.

To recover, Mr FD and I treated ourselves to lunch, something we haven’t done for months! We both chose the barramundi fish with pea mash and sweet potato chips. We were quite decadent and followed up with dessert. I chose the orange crème brûlée that was just perfection in a ramekin. I would have ordered a second helping without much prompting! Mr FD declared he would order something more “manly”; an apple and rhubarb crumble with vanilla ice-cream. How a dessert can be manly, I don’t know, but he was more than satisfied with his choice.

lunch 1

lunch 2

Sunday, I lunched with my favourite girlfriend, the one I have known since kindergarten. She and her husband have just returned from a trip to South America and climbing  Machu Picchu, as you do! Friend had news of a mutual friend who has had her foot amputated due to complications arising from diabetes. A lack of self care – so sad.

After the exhilarating  gustation of the previous day, I settled for a chicken soup with mushrooms and basil. It arrived in a bowl large enough to bath a small babe, and with a bread stick roll that was almost too large for the soup bowl. I have to admit that I had chosen soup as I was expecting a smaller meal! I did my best, but have to admit the soup defeated me. The glass of white, didn’t however.

a new cycle

The view from our deck by day

The view from our deck by day

This weekend we got an exercise bike. It’s not new; in fact it is second hand, unwanted when its owner went overseas. We have placed it outside on our deck, for the moment. I did circle it for an hour or two, as I am not an exerciser – as I joke, my idea of exercise is moving from one end of the couch to the other!

I was out trying out the cycle this evening. The weather is unseasonably warm, and the evening was just lovely, not too cold, no insects. Our house is on the side of a hill and overlooks the Village and the entire valley, to the ranges in the distance. It was evening and the street lights were twinkling like stars and it was just magical.

Augie Dog was outside with me, standing at the far end of the deck. Son came out and was of the opinion that Augie was watching a wallaby somewhere in our garden that we could see. He was certainly standing very quiet and still the entire time I cycled.

It was just perfection, and I felt so happy, cycling and enjoying the moment. It was a very, very nice end to my weekend.

I just hope I can walk in the morning!

Bored by that view? Then try this one!

Bored by that view? Then try this one!

sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite

bedtime 1

Media likes to promote the idea the intimate relationships can easily be maintained into the later years. I am of the opinion that a twenty something writing about the physical life of elders has no understanding of the logistics involved.

For example, simply sleeping close together in bed.

I am usually asleep before night owl Mr FD comes to bed. Now that it is winter, he is naturally drawn to my warmed side of the mattress. We have been married too long for me to entertain the illusion that it is anything more than the need for comfort that draws him neigh!

Now this is where the problems arise. I prefer to sleep on my left side, facing towards the edge of the bed. Mr FD draws near, but to borrow a quote he has a “belly like a bowl full of jelly” so while his top half might align well, his tummy pushes my spin out of its comfort zone. So even if asleep, I awaken and some realignment takes place to find a comfort zone.

Further issues are that my neck issues mean I need a certain amount of pillow to support my neck, the rotator cuff injury results in a limited number of positions for my right arm unless I want to experience pain. I often have to sleep with a small pillow under my right arm.

Add to this the fact that Mr FD wears a CPAP mask and we not only have to make placement for the mask, but the hissing in my ear makes me feel as though I am lying down beside Darth Vader. He also suffers from restless leg syndrome so will move randomly from moment to moment. It is not just legs though – his hand twitches, and he can have a whole body “jump” as well.

So, after ten or more minutes of grumping and annoyance we finally settle into some form of mutually acceptable comfort and settle to sleep. Mr FD usually disregards my death threats, because he is just that type of guy – senseless.

Five minutes later I am so hot from Mr FD’s extra body heat I have to throw back the blankets and order Mr FD to his side of the bed. A number of death threats have to accompany this request before Mr FD rolls to the cold side of the bed.

Right, romance all the way.

a story of beetroots and little girls

 

conversation 2

Hello, Peoples!

My week has been varied. First week of term, new classes for me, more students to remember. I am dreadful with names, especially if they are Pacifika names. The names of Sudanese girls often trip me up too, and though I try my hardest to get the pronunciation correct, but it is not one of my better skills, so I often exasperate the students. I can but try my best.

Friday I went to a Teacher Librarian conference which had no TL focus but rather was on innovation and creativity; and was great. I really enjoyed the content. The brown paper bag lunch they provided was obviously at the lower end of the budget, but we survived. These days, I find, because I have been thundering around for a couple of years and making my opinions known, I have people seeking me out at conference, which is great for my ego, but it is so exhausting being nice. I am an outlier, and there I sit, and in these days of innovation and creativity, it appears a little more welcome.  Maybe, it is because I show that I really don’t care anymore. I don’t care about being mainstream.

I was told to cease and desist on my the makerspace, but if you can’t go over it, go around it, so I am seeking less visible ways (to administration) to achieve my goal. First up is seeking out two exercise bikes. I am hoping a couple of someone’s will donate them to us. One can but ask. If not I will put into my next budget  as library “furniture”.

The house is much quieter since Petite Fille and her parents moved back to their home. The conference I attended was in the city, so I spent the night before at what I now call their boutique hotel (they have a butler’s pantry bigger than many kitchens we had in previous houses!) Friday afternoon I was to return home to the country, but Petite Fille had a sad face, so Grandma agreed to spend another night.

Saturday morning we decided on coffee and cake, and Petite Fille was so excited at the thought of a “treat” – she is a no sugar child. She was allowed a lamington, which we hoped would go under the radar of her father’s approval (he was absent though!) When it arrived it was a vegan, beetroot lamington which ticked all the boxes. The Big Whatever must have been watching over us today! I could hear generations of long gone CWA Ladies (Country Women’s Association) rolling over in their graves – no sugar and beetroot in a lamington. From the way it disappeared I suspect there was in fact little to complain about!

I dropped into an office supplies store on the way home and purchased a set of neon coloured sharpies, so I am off to play with my pens! Not that I can draw, but I shall amuse myself never the less.

 

I waz cheated, I tell youze

elephants

Thursday was a quite a pleasant day. I spent most of the day with Petite Fille playing Peppa Pig, Duplo, Doctors, and reading a mountain of books to her. It was a good day, until my son-in-law, Petite Fille’s father, came home and told me my Thursday was in fact everyone else’s Friday.

I didn’t believe him to the point that I found my mobile phone and checked the day and date. I didn’t fully believe it then either. Okay, I was on vacation, and I had been suffering with a cold, and I had been home bound child caring, but how did I get cheated out of a whole day?

Where was I when I was living that day? I was cheated out of a day of vacation! So instead of having three days until I had to return to work, I had merely two.

Talk about a pissed off individual… thy name was Flamingo Dancer!

 

pish pash another day

rake

A cold has befuddled me the last couple of days. What is it about colds that we feel this primal urge to identify just where the virus might have originated from to infect us? Mr FD almost always picks up cold when he takes plane trips, and I was on a plane three days prior to the sore throat starting. My money is on the inbred who stood in line ahead of Mr FD and I at the voting booth and made sure she turned around and couched directly at us every time she had a throat tickle.

Mr FD and I would, almost in unison, take a step backwards every time she coughed, but there was only so much distance that that we could keep between us and the diseased one (ever heard of putting your hand over your mouth, you silly cow!) and still maintain the progression of the waiting line.

And the damn election has resulted in no clear winner, and maybe a minority government. We always seem to live in electoral areas that are totally opposite to the way we vote, so it is merely an exercise in democracy for us when we vote; as we have no expectation that our candidate will win. Ever hopeful.

Last night, I must have overdosed on Berocca because I experienced one of those moments when I felt overwhelming anticipation of good health on the morrow and made plans to match. You know when you have sooked around for a couple days feeling ill, and then have a kumbaya moment of promising The Big Whatever that you will clean up your act and get healthy, really healthy.

So, lying in bed, I made plans to knead bread and leave to rise on the window sill and  to run a 10 kilometre marathon at dawn, before returning home to forage for nuts and berries in the bush land for a healthy natural breakfast with the bread I baked. Then I was going to garden, clean out my closets and knit a tent before morning tea.

Of course the first weak link in my plan was that I stayed awake until after 1am catching up on programs I had missed while away last week. The weather was windy and the wind chill factor made it quite uncomfortable so that nixed the marathon. I didn’t even walk to the mailbox to check the mail, it can wait until tomorrow.

I did clean the ash from around the fireplace, always a thrill. Speaking of thrills, a new washing machine was delivered last week. Just before we made our tree change 3 and on half years ago, Daughter2 and I selected a new washing machine that turned out to have a major production fault. The make has been bursting into flames and burning homes down all over the country. We were offered a fix early on, which we accepted, but a couple weeks ago the manufacturer rang to offer a new machine. Mr FD had the sense to accept on the spot. So, my holiday thrill has been working out the different aspect of using the washing machine. Oh it’s all fun at the Flamingo Dancer Manor!

For the next four days I will be entrusted with the care of Petite Fille, while her parents move their goods and chattels back to their city home. Petite Fille has recently started ballet lessons, so we shall no doubt pas de deux about the kitchen until I hurt some random body part.

I refuse to think about work next week, except I obviously am. Sigh.