Reality Cheque and Other Random Crap

Reality is hitting here.  We REALLY have bought a house.  Shit.  We have a mortgage.  Shit.  Don't mistake my cursing for regret - I am VERY excited.  But I am also VERY scared!  Yesterday I posted a very big pile of papers off to the conveyancer, after signing my life away - a million times.  Enclosed was also a VERY hefty cheque - for stamp duty - BOOOOO!  And today, two VERY big envelopes arrived from the bank.  More signing required it seems.

Today's school newsletter announced that I am retiring from the uniform shop!  Made me laugh.  Also received a letter from the kid's new school welcoming them.  Reality...again.

I have started doing what I do best.......shopping.  I made a very quick one hour trip to Spotlight on Monday, I only needed one metre of fabric.  I ended up in the homewares section and came home with half a dozen cushions, bath mats and curtains.  Whoops.

I also purchased some amazing fabric online last week, (on sale - thanks to The Intrepid Thread) as I am planning how to decorate the girl's bedrooms.  Andrew has suggested perhaps I have been watching too many episodes of "The Block"?  I haven't given him the real story - I've been spending too much time on Pinterest.  God I love that search button and the gasp of air that leaves me as I have a whole screen full of divine decorating ideas in the specified colours!  Bless the creators of Pinterest....

The other thing I have found myself doing, much more often than I used to, is taking photos of random things of interest.  If I find it somewhat amusing/disturbing or just plain wrong, I whip out my iPhone and file it away for future reference.  And You are the lucky ones that get to share them with me!

This text message came through last week in relation to my eldest son's basketball game.  I pee'd my pants laughing at the voicemail's text version of events.  Mostly because the club he is playing for is sometimes lovingly referred to as "Bosnia" instead of its correct suburban name.  Trailer Park Jets seemed quite fitting.....

I was strolling through Target yesterday and was deeply distressed by the sight of these revolting jumpers.  Not only are they in bizarre colours and prints, they are also knitted AND in the "groovy" section of the menswear department.  As I stood readying myself to capture this image, I was even more disturbed that a middle aged woman stopped to lovingly feel them and consider purchasing.  Shame.

Up until a couple of years ago, when Masterchef hit our screens, I had no idea what an actual proper macaroon was.  All I recalled were the coconut macaroon biscuits that were in The Woman's Weekly recipe books of the 80's.  It seems they're all the rage these days?  I took Ms Chloe for morning tea at the shops today and had my first ever macaroon.  Mine was the Lemon Tart version on the right.  Chloe's was the ghastly BubbleGum on the left.  I wasn't overly thrilled.  I need a chef.

This little beauty is the latest creation at Ms Midge.  I did a pattern review for The Oz Material Girls, which you can find HERE.  They are the prettiest ruffle skirts ever!

Finally - I am off to the Gold Coast in precisely EIGHT MORE SLEEPS!  Not that I'm counting.  I will be gone for three whole nights - CHILD FREE!  Not that I'm excited.  I will be spending the entire time with lifelong friends, and will be going to our 25 year primary school reunion!  I am so very excited but have one very big concern

WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO WEAR????
HELP

What If Land

About ten days ago I had a little "turn" and thought I  was going to pass out.  I didn't, but somehow travelled to a different planet for the following 36 hours.  To say I felt "odd" would be about right.  Away with the fairies was I.

I did the right thing and took the pathology request that had been under a magnet on the fridge for the past two months and finally had my GTT test.  Turns out I'm not diabetic!  Which is a good thing, seeing as I have just eaten a row of chocolate before I sat down here.....

I also did another right thing and went and saw my GP last week, thinking she would say my test was fine, all was fine, just keep on keeping on.  Fail.

It turns out that being off with the fairies is not an ideal outcome after nearly passing out.  It also turns out that when you tell the GP this has happened a few times before, said GP gets that little concerned furrow on their brow as they sit back in their chair and look quizzically at you.

So now I look like some kind of cyborg.  

Little patches of annoyingly scratchy tape are attached to long cords that lead to a funny little computerised box.  It's called a Holter Monitor.  And it's going to tell me what my heart does over a 24 hour period.  Fun!  Or not so fun.

I also have an appointment with a Nuerologist to look forward to drain my account.  You know, just to rule out whether I have had a minor stroke......  Just as I wrote that I think my heart monitor would have recorded a jump.....

Now, I know you're not supposed to be alarmed when your GP says they are requesting these tests "just to be sure", but I am quite seriously shaking in my freakin boots!  All the what if's in the world are spinning through my over-active mind, and the whole reality of getting older and gaining more health issues seem way too close to home!

Yes - it could just be that I am stressed.  There's plenty going on in my life to induce stress, anxiety and a whole lot of other feelings.  But what if??

I've obviously had to explain to my kids what all the cords and patches are.  It went something like this - 

"Mummy hasn't been well, and is stressed out, so now they're seeing how my heart is working" - this was said through gritted teeth as I attempted to get them to stop fighting as they were going through the front door.....

This comes less than 24 hours after having to explain to them they their Great-Grandmother has gone to sleep and more than likely will not be waking up.  Chelsea replied to this news with "At least she got to live to 93".  Kids are resilient.  And naive.  Just the way I like it.  My husband, on the other hand, is devastated.  As he should be.

Stressed.  Me?  Nooooooooo.......

A positive twist to all this?  I have just opened and read a letter sent from our World Vision Sponsor Child, Keriya.  Well, her Father told the volunteer what to write which is great.  The last line of the letter made my voice quiver.... "Dear sponsor, she will be so happy if you write her a letter and send a post card that can give her an idea about your self and expresses your place to her".  Fills my heart - take that heart monitor!

Do you ever go in to What If Land??  How do you navigate out of that place?

To Friend or Not To Friend?

I have always told people that you only get out of something what you wish for.  Especially in terms of that little social media "club" - Facebook.  I've had many a conversation with others over their dislike of FB and removal of their profile because they found it bitchy or that too many people came out of the woodwork to snoop in to their lives.  But my answer was and is ALWAYS that Facebook is what you want it to be.  If you want to use it to snoop on other people, it will get you in trouble.  If you wish to use it to keep in touch with people you like and whom you trust, then you will enjoy the ride.  I choose the later....


Every day when I log in to see what is happening in the world, I read countless cryptic status updates.  They amuse me, confuse me or make me curious.  I make a conscious choice NOT to read in to them, basically because I know that when I am being cryptic - on purpose or not - it could apply to so very many circumstances!  And my REAL friends would know that.  It's the not-so-real friends who may choose to apply them in a way that suits them.


I've decided I would like a new rule brought in to MY Facebook.  This is how it would read, if I could be bothered to write it:

Dear friends,  

If you are only here with me on Facebook to scrutinise my every word, and turn it in to something that it is not, please do me - and you - a favour, and click on the "Unfriend" option.  If you wish to stick around as my friend, please do so with an open mind.  Please understand that my life has many facets, and that not all of my status updates relate to one little part of my life or You.  I do not use my FB account to hurt other people's feelings, so please 
do not do the same.

Thanks.

I am not a game player.  Not literally or any other way!  And I'm finding that the older I am getting, the less patience I have for them.  This was confirmed this week after I worked out that someone on my friends list uses their FB for different reasons to I.  It lead me to many conclusions.


1.  If I am worried about writing something that someone may mis-interpret, then we mustn't be very good friends.
2.  If I am questioning my trust in someone, then we mustn't be very good friends.
3.  If I don't think we are very good friends - then you should not be on my friends list.


My "Voice of Reason" - aka Andrew, is also my moral compass.  When I am angry about the way others are behaving and choose to deal with things, he reminds me that I am not them.  That I should not lower myself to their level.  I thank God someone that I have him every single day!


How do you choose your FB friends?  And how do you un-choose them?

Monday Funday

A bit of Monday night random thoughts for you all.....cos I know you need it!

Please tell me I am not the only person who is regularly greeted with poo in the toilet?  You know, you innocently walk into the bathroom and go to sit on the toilet to see that the person before you has not only failed to use toilet paper, but has also failed to flush?  Do little kids just have this inept ability to "snap one off", or could it be that they have no problem walking around with poo stuck to their undies every day?

Told you it was random.....

I am taking a strange amount of joy in taping empty boxes together and filling them ONLY with stuff I am remotely interested in carting to the new house.  I am taking even MORE joy in putting a whole bunch of crap next to said boxes, preparing them to go to their new home at the OP shop!  Or bin - sssshhhhhhhhh........

I continue to be freaked out by the 13 year old MAN that is residing in my house.  It just IS NOT RIGHT that he has gone from being a little boy to a mumbling, deep-voiced, pimply and somewhat hairy human being.  It does not help that this person also thinks he can raise his voice and question every. single. thing. we. say.  Nope, not helpful at all.

I wore leggings today.  And leopard print.  Together.  I got some strange looks - I'm always in jeans or skirts - I think everyone at school pick up was confused?  Cadyn was confused - Cheetah or Leopard?

We watched an epic of a basketball game on Saturday - Chelsea's under 10 team in the grand final - coached by my husband.  They came from behind to draw and went in to double overtime.  At some stage during the last 15 minutes of the game I felt like I was going to keel over.  The Mum sitting next to me said I went white as a ghost whilst I took the "Brace" position you learn over many years of watching serious airline stewards.  Lucky for me I had lollies in my bag and powerade was rampant on the bench!  I can laugh about it now - but the serious side of this is that I have had a pathology request on the fridge for two months now.  I'm off to have my GTT test tomorrow.  Remember the two hour torture glucose test you have to have when you're pregnant?  I am *meant* to have them every two years - post gestational diabetes with all four kids.  These funny little episodes I have been experiencing for a few months now are hopefully not indicative of anything serious......cos I will seriously KILL someone if I can't eat chocolate or lollies anymore!!!!

And last but not least in this Monday mundane.  During Chelsea and my post-grand-final-loss-shopping-trip, we I came across this delightful product.....

If I were Kate Middleton/Wales, I would not be a happy Princess!

School sucks...sorta

I organised to have today off work over two weeks ago.  My astoundingly athletically talented freakishly flukey daughter, Chelsea, is running in the district cross country today!  To say I was surprised when she told me this little pearler, would be an understatement.  Let me clarify - she spent the first two seasons of basketball skipping down the court and looking off into space as if the fairies were coaxing her to their toadstool.  Obviously one season of serious basketball with her hard-ass Dad as coach has paid off - she can run!

Anyway, I digress.  So today was meant to be one of relaxing, getting my nails done, taming my eyebrows and generally doing whatever the hell I wanted, oh as well as watching Chelsea run.  This is how my day went.....

At 8.30am, I rang Lochie's high school and demanded requested a meeting with his level co-ordinator.  She obliged and said she would see me at 10am.  I then had to rearrange my appointment to meet with the renovator at the house.  Check.  I spent the hour before school meeting pouring bleach all over the tiles in the bathroom and scrubbing them with a toothbrush.  Cos that's what you do when you're annoyed with something yeh?  I inhaled said bleach and started packing.  Who knew we had so many freaking books!!  Honestly - I don't think I ever actually see anyone reading them?  Oh well, they're packed and moving with us, so they can patiently sit on the bookshelf in the hope that someone will read them again.

Meeting at school was actually with the co-ordinator AND the Vice Principal.  This shit just got serious.  To cut a really long story short - a few weeks ago Lochie told me of some issues he had with one of his teachers.  I rang the co-ordinator at the time and discussed with her my concerns.  She reassured me that it would be dealt with.  It was. A week after that I had to ring her again with a more serious concern.  After getting off the phone I was sure it too would be sorted out.  I was wrong.

So this morning I find myself in this office trying to convey my frustration.  Thankfully they were very understanding and apologised that this had not been dealt with in a more timely manner.  Then it happened - I got emotional.  FUCK IT!  Why do I always feel like crying when I'm passionate about something??  Anywho - I got all of my points across, and was thanked for being a parent who cared enough about my child's education to try and work it out.  Lochie had a meeting with the Teacher and her superiors, and it "seems" to be sorted out....along with an apology to him from said teacher.

Chelsea survived the cross country.  133rd from 160+ kids......I think that's pretty damn good. She was stuffed.  I lasted 30 minutes at cross country.....I was stuffed.  Headed straight for the shopping centre...

I forget how quiet it is when you get to have lunch by yourself.  Albeit with a million people rushing past your seat, busily going about their lives and all important shopping.  But I sucked in that serenity and took advantage of it.

The rest of the afternoon fell into place.  The nails were done, as were the eyebrows.  I even managed 20 minutes of torture via the chinese massage place.  Heaven. 

How do you spend your days off?  Is bleach and/or wax involved?

Crises....of sorts

It would be a fair assumption to say I am at a crisis point.  Actually, I am at a crisis junction - too many crises!  Where to start?

#1 - I received Chloe's kindergarten forms last week.  Which was all very exciting.  Until reality struck.  My baby will only be home one day per week.  GREAT I hear you say?  Well that's what I thought I would be saying - but I'm now in panic mode.  14 years of having a child at home with me is coming to an end a little too suddenly.  I need to wrap my head around that.....

#2 - Work.  I have been at the same job for some 15 years.  Love my job.  Not so much loving the shift work attached to said job these days.  Working every second weekend has lost its appeal.  Having three out of four children playing weekend sport as well as a husband who widows me every Summer, has made this past year frustrating.  Shift work is ideal for families with small children, but as we move into this next phase of activity over-drive, I'm finding myself treading water.  Lucky I have an awesome boss who doesn't slap me around when I'm having my all-too-familiar meltdowns!

#3 - The Big Brown House.  It's becoming very real that in a matter of weeks, we will have a mortgage.  A very substantial mortgage at that.  Back in my past life, at the ripe old age of 21, I bought a house.  For $75k!  Now THAT was a mortgage.  As I lay in bed trying to work out where the ABC1 weather man gets his outfits from, I told Andrew I was having a bit of a heart attack.  About the mortgage.  He laughed.

#4 - Seal quite obviously needs some sexual healing.  I watched "The Voice" and felt the skin crawling off my bones during Emma's performance.  At about 1.10 minutes in, it gets uncomfortable.  He needs to learn how to hide his lust!  And how to get a private room......

I could go on.  But I shan't bore you all!  

Anything got your knickers in a knot??


ps. this is my 200th blog post!  I'm going to get an icy-pole to celebrate....cos that's how I roll!

Royalty Reigns

Last night re-affirmed my belief that good karma comes to those who wait!  I am also of the belief that myself and my two gorgeous girlfriends must be good people to collect said karma.  This is how it all unfolded.....

My all-time, number one, favourite artist in the whole entire world is Prince.  I can still remember listening to him for the first time.  I was around nine years of age (circa 1984 - don't do the maths).  My older sister and her bestie - Tammy - were avid fans.  Tammy had a purple bedroom, plastered with posters.  She also had the most coolest purple guitar in the corner of her bedroom.  I was in awe of her coolness.  Her Dad was also a glazier, so her bedroom had full length mirrors on the walls.  The epitome of 80's coolness.  So I would listen to the music they listened to, and just loved the grooviness of Prince and his tunes.  Tammy said to me that when Prince finally came to Australia, one day, she would take me. Fab.

Fast forward to 1992, when Prince finally announced he would be touring Australia.  I was now 17, and Tammy was long gone in my life, but my bff's had finally caught on to what I had known all along.  Prince was the hottest artist in town. So we jumped on a train and went to our first ever concert.  BEST. NIGHT. EVER.

Press double fast forward now, to present time.  A month or so ago, Prince declared he would be touring again.  Hoorah!  I was thrilled that Hayles and Bec wanted to go.  Hayley jumped on line at 9am the Monday morning tickets went on sale.  At precisely 9.05am she had allocated tickets - right up in the "Gods" of Rod Laver Arena!  I was not bothered as I was going to see Prince!  Slightly bummed the next day when I realise two more concerts were for sale, with seats down low.  But I got on with life - I was going to see Prince!

So last night, we jumped in my car and travelled to the city.  Spent far too much time worrying about where the hell we were going to park, and whether we would be lucky enough to dodge the imminent rain on our walk to the arena.  Thank you Richmond Football Club for your open car park and thank you Mother Nature for turning off the water.

Excitedly entered the venue and found an usher to show us our seats in the northern hemisphere.  He asked us if we were all together to which we nodded.  He then walked off.  We were a bit confused, but then saw he had wandered down the small flight of stairs and was summoning us to join him.  "Give me your tickets girls, I need to change them over".  Huh??  Had we inadvertently found ourselves with scalper's tickets?  Were we in trouble?  "Just stay calm" he says.  He then handed us tickets for seats in the LOWER level - ROW G!!!!  Many expletives left my lips before I asked him his name.  "Allan" - couldn't help myself in the excitement - Allan........allan, allan, allan - was all I could say!  If you have no idea why I was blurting this out - watch this...

Allan!

I then asked if we could kiss him?!?!!?  As you do?  Of course he said Yes!  I could not believe our luck.  Or good karma?  Things like that just never happen to me, or my friends.  Thrilled beyond belief!  We very calmly (on the outside anyway) found our seats and were dumb-founded to see how close we were...

I spent the following few hours in awe of this amazing man and his talent.  It was like one big "jam".  Songs that I have listened to for nearly 30 years, live and right in front of me.  My feet were sore, my bladder was full (I couldn't miss a second for a toilet stop) and my hands stung from clapping.  A truly brilliant evening.

When we finally left, Hayley asked me if this concert was better than the first I saw?  I couldn't possibly compare.  The first concert you go to is always close to your heart, it's kind of a "right of passage" in my opinion.  And having the privilege of seeing the same artist some 20 years later.....you see it through different eyes.  Not just older, but more appreciative.

Here's a couple more pics from my most brilliant evening.

I'm still a little high from it all!  Who is your all-time favourite?  And have you seen them live?

A Likely Witch Hunt

Happy Mother's Day!  I worked all day but was happy to return home  to a lovely Indian meal cooked by the husband, and the children had all made and bought me lovely bits and pieces.  Nice.


What I didn't think was nice, was the not so brilliant timing of 60 Minutes' story telling.  I mean seriously, putting a story on about smacking, on Mother's Day.  Good one.  I saw the ads for it last week, and straight away thought "fabulous, that woman is going to get roasted".  I'm always curious as to why people would put themselves out there, in the public arena, to be torn to shreds?


Just to clarify - I am NOT anti-smacking.  I am NOT pro-smacking.  I am PRO-PARENTING.  This is my take on it all....


I am not a perfect parent.  Far from it.  I have smacked my kids - on the VERY rare occasion.  It's usually out of frustration.  And I ALWAYS feel guilty after I have done it.  Hence why it has rarely occurred.  Watching the story this evening, I cringed.  This Mum, whom I am certain loves her four children dearly, smacks on a rather regular basis.  My opinion is that if you are smacking your children often, and on a regular basis - it's NOT working.  It's NOT effective.  Change your tact.  Clearly this Mum thinks she is doing the right thing.  And you know what?  That's for her to live with.  I can only imagine that she is now going to go through hell - because every anti-smacker on the earth is going to want her blood.  They will be gunning for her.  And that is unfortunate.


We all parent the only way we know how.  I USED to yell.  Until a few weeks ago.  Things are different in our household now.  I am relishing the random hugs, kisses and "I love you's".  A few days ago, I lost my shit for the first time since then.  And as I raised my voice and lost my temper, my eyes were open.  I saw the way my kids were looking at me.  And I remembered why I stopped yelling.  Their eyes were sad.  I stopped and apologised.


I'm hoping that the Mum from tonight's story watched tonight, and that her eyes were open.  I'm hoping that she saw the looks on her kids faces, and their body language.  And I hope that she learns from it.  I also hope that the wider audience and the media are kind, because after all - she's a Mum, just like the rest of us.  


Did you watch tonight?  Thoughts?

I Get Around

With all the talk, and action, being done about moving house, it has had me reflecting on how many bloody times I have actually moved.  I worked out last week that this house we are in now, is the house I have lived at the longest.  In my whole life.  Eight years.  It's a record for me.  So here's how the role-call of my habitats goes....

1.  Have no idea what the suburb was that I was brought home from hospital to.  But I know it was on the Gold Coast.

2.  Carrara - lived in a big house on the canal, right opposite the Flea Market.  This house will always be remembered as the place my sister was run over by my Dad.  Yep, unfortunately it runs in the family....  Lived here for around five years I think.  Started grade one, then moved a few months later.

3.  Coomera - Seven and a half acres of beautiful land with a ginormous house.  We had a bit of a hobby farm, and it wasn't until I was in my teens that I looked back at regret for all the horses we owned and I never really rode.  Geese remembered for their angry attack on my little brother's knackers.  The giant mulberry tree that grew in the chicken "pen"....it wasn't really a pen, more like a farm in itself.  The creek that ran through the property where we would have muddy swims and the big dam where I gained my first set of stitches.  Great memories.  We were here for about four years.  

4.  Oxenford - Smaller house, smaller property.  Probably the best years of my childhood.  Lived opposite two of the best friends a girl could ever (and still) have.  Back in the 80's, this little suburb was quaint.  Everyone knew everyone.  You could ride your bike around all day and return home at dusk without a worry in the world.  All you needed were a pair of swimmers and thongs, and you were set for a whole day's fun.  The only downside to this time was my parent's marriage falling apart.  We were here for about three years.

5.  Oxenford - The rental.  Family friend helps us out by renting us his house.  Because Dad has lost all control of his problem, and we now have no money!  This house saw a marriage break-up, a new man in my Mum's life and my sister move out...  Strange times.  Another few years here.

6.  Oxenford (again) - The Caravan Park.  Urghhh...... Take this as a warning.  Gambling = disaster.  For many years now I have looked back on the fact that we lived in a caravan park as pretty embarrassing.  Part of my marriage vows (well not really) were that we would NEVER stay in a caravan, let alone live in one.  But, in my older age, I can now understand that my Mum and Step Dad just did what they had to do in order for us to get by.  We lived in said caravan park for a few years.  I was in high school.  It was not ideal, but hey, it was ok.  And I certainly learnt quite a few life lessons whilst there!  The irony in this is that my Dad now lives in a caravan park....go figure.

7. Melbourne bound!  Stayed at my Aunty's house in Woori-yallock.  At 15, and straight from the beaches of Queensland, I thought this was surely the coldest place on earth!  It's not.  A month spent here discovering the beauty of Victoria and the "fashion" that was bomber jackets and desert boots.  I have still not recovered from these finds....

8.  Bayswater - Says it all really.  Good old Baysie.  The four years I lived there were super fabulous!  The walk to high school was always an adventure.  There was a flasher who loitered about the creek at the back of the school.  Never got to see him, shame.

9.  Ferntree Gully - My parents had decided they would move to Hong Kong.  So a house was bought, and my boyfriend at the time and I, along with my little brother, moved in.  Tumultuous times followed, with a brother who got involved in all sorts of trouble, and a boyfriend that would then become my husband.  This house saw my 21st and hens night amongst other celebrations.  I think all will still remember the big black man and his shlong.....  Lasted here a couple of years.

Stay with me here!!!

10. Boronia (aka Bosnia) - Bought my first house with the ex-husband.  Can you believe it only cost us $75k!!!!!!  Delightful little weatherboard that saw WAY too much.  The great memories are those of my beautiful first born being brought home and the fabulous parties we held there.  I lived there about 3 years, until I left my marriage.  Ex-husband still lives there....

11.  Moved in with Mum and Step Dad, with son.  Three months.

12.  Ringwood - found a cute little unit.  Just me and my boy.  Just six months.

13.  Ferntree Gully - Work friend offered her house for rent.  Lived with another friend, until she disappointed me and was sent packing.  Met Andrew whilst living here. We were married in the back yard and brought Chelsea home from hospital there.  Another few years passed...

14.  NOW.  Phew.  Eight years.  This suburb has been one of the most memorable.  Another two babies born and brought home.  I have met some amazing people, everyone knows everyone.  Mostly that is a good thing, but at times it has caused me a lot of grief.  A part of me is sad to be leaving......but there's another part of me that will be happily waving goodbye.  

So to all of you who declare "I hate moving!" - how many times have you actually moved?  Do I belong on a reality show?  Or perhaps in therapy?

Sexy Sewing

Just a quick post this afternoon between eating chocolate freckles (everyone loves them yeh?), swigging Pepsi Max (they did not sponsor this post unfortunately, I'm just addicted), squishing orders into postal satchels and getting quotes for renovations!!  Here's some useful information for you......

Sexy huh?

The lovely Renee over at The Sewing Library is celebrating their First Birthday!  She has an amazing prize on offer - and it makes sewing look pretty damn sexy!  Great opportunity for everyone (well except me, because I am one of the sponsors of said sexy prize, now I know how Karl and Lisa feel when they can't enter Today Show comps!) who loves sewing, would love to sew, or knows someone who sews to win a beautiful machine!  Pop over there and let Renee know I sent you!


Who knew carpet was so freakin expensive??  I mean really.....it's just big rugs on floors yeh?  Seems I am taking a master class in "how not to get ripped off by big companies" during the infant stages of our renovating.  Today was the 3rd hour spent sitting around whilst a strange man wandered around with his measuring tape.  Let's hope the quotes get cheaper - please.....


I keep looking at the rather large amount of "stuff" we have, everywhere, and wonder how I am possibly going to get it all packed and moved?  Remedied some of the problem by emptying out our garage of all the useless shit we have been holding on to "just in case" on the weekend.  Hard rubbish collection has perfect timing this time round.  Seems our crap must be really, really crappy this time round.  Apart from a few random items, it's all still on the nature strip.  Unheard of in this suburb!  Some people must roam from area to area, trailer hooked on, picking through others crap in the hope of finding good crap to transfer to their own crappy garage?  Noice.


I've sort of, kind of, maybe decided that the kids will be changing schools next year.  Our moving date will be some time in July, so I will have at least half a year of travelling to their current school.  Yes, it may only be ten minutes each way, but given we have only had to walk 300 metres to school for the past five years, I'm guessing I will be over it by year's end?  I have a school in mind, and they just happen to be holding their open night later this month.  I'm already bribing Chelsea with the news that they have piano lessons during school hours!  Bribery 101 will be my best friend in the coming months.....


Bella the kitten has made herself well and truly at home.  She now flies from one piece of furniture to another, and scares the absolute bejeezus out of everyone at some stage during each day.  Found her on top of the printer this morning after hearing it turn on.  Printer lives on top of three filing cabinets.  Still trying to work out the logistics of how she ended there....


That's it.  Must go and look productive.  Husband just pulled in the driveway!

And We've Only Just Begun.....

The Brown House.  That is the best description I have for it at present.  Brown.  Really brown.  But we have a vision.  Sort of.  It's a bit of a blurred vision right now, but I'm hoping my little exercise book filling up with notes will soon make it clearer.

I have a gazillion more photos of our new home, but am too scared to look too closely, for fear of running!  This little big beauty is most definitely a work in progress.  It's going to take a whole lot of hard work and hard earned money to get it to look the way we want it to, but I'm shitting myself quietly OK with that.

You see - this big brown house is where my husband was brought home to after he left the hospital.  Back in 1979.  This is his childhood home.  Last year sometime, he suggested that when his Mum was ready to downsize (she has been living here by herself for quite a while now) it would be the perfect sized home for us and our tribe, and perhaps we should think about purchasing it?  He left the thinking up to me.  SO I thought long and hard about it.  And after about a week, I told him I agreed.  This humungous house was pretty much perfect for us.  Except of course for the carpet, painting, tiles, gates, doors, decking yadda yadda yadda......

Soooooooo............as we begin this journey into home renovation - bare with me!!  This is not my first rodeo renovation, my past life ended at the final stages of an extension.  My plan is to have THIS marriage outlast THIS house!  I will more than likely be committed at some stage, and will require you to tell me that it will all work out.  Please.  Thank you.

Am I crazy?  Do you have any tips for getting through a rather large renovation?