The ninth life

Before we left for Ennuin we had a very sad duty to perform. Mum’s cat Sufie had been ill for some time. Back problems, absesses and in the last few weeks kidney failure. Going away meant that a decision had to be made. My sister and I had given Mum the cat sixteen years ago for her birthday and I remember that the grumpy thing weed all over my sister’s laundry in the back of her car.

The poor thing was skin and bone and spent much of her day trying to drink enough water to stay hydrated. We took her to the vet for what is known as the “green dream”. The examination room was very stark, with slate floors and hard surfaces. The vet’s voice seemed to boom. No wonder Sufie was frightened. I’m sure the vet took one look at Sufie and knew what was wrong with her but she did the right thing I suppose and examined the cat. It did seem cruel though because she was clearly scared and in pain. She reacted like a wild cat.

Eventually after Dad said “I think we’d like to put her down nicely”, she gave Sufie a sedative. There was no way that cat was going to sit still for a needle. Unfortunately it meant that she felt nauseous before she quietened down and fell asleep.

I thought that the rest would be simple after that. We’d see her breath rise and fall (I thought) and then… not rise again. But death it seems does not happen that easily. When the green (it was actually green) anesthetic was injected she stretched out as it (possibly) reached the heart. Then relaxed and breathed in and out, in and out. Then the vet listened for a heart beat and said she was gone but would take a few more breaths. She did. Big ones. Gasping. It was horrible. And it went on for quite a few breaths.

Eventually she stilled and we could take her home.

It was a lot more traumatic than I imagined but the right thing to do. In death she looked relaxed and could curl up again like a cat. She was in too much pain in life to curl up.

She is buried in the garden with an iron picket cross. The kids decorated the grave with colourful flowers.

Sufie, you were a cantankerous old cat, but now that you are gone I miss you. The house seems empty without you.

Good evening Mr Howard

Just came back from the opening of the new building and a swish affair it was complete with the prime ministerial touch. Yes I met him and remembered the honorific (early readers may remember my chagrin at calling the former PM “Paul” when I met him - clearly a bit too familiar). He’s a lot shorter than I expected.

Also had a dance with Mr Breakfast which was a lot better once I remembered NOT to lead. A bolshy lass this one - and we wonder that it wasn’t passed down in the genes (not).

I have spent the last few days up at the station and they went very quickly. Did the usual - driving lessons for the kids, caught yabbies in the dam, had baths under the stars and slept on the deck in a swag.

This time number one son aged nearly 11 had a go on the pedals. By himself. We drove out to kangaroo flats - named because the ground is flat not the kangaroos (of which there are many) - and let him have a go. He did so well that dad thought maybe he could drive us home - a distance of at least 12 kilometres. Well things were going well until we got to a little curvy bit of road and he had to go offroad to go round a bush.

“You can slow down a bit son.”

“Try the brakes out now.”

“STOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!”

We ended up in a mallee tree. Luckily we weren’t going very fast. Luckily the tree was a bushy kind not a car-destroying kind. Luckily noone was hurt. Luckily dad had a chainsaw in the back (next to the yabbies) with which to cut us out.

Aged ten. First solo drive of a landcruiser. First crash.

Got straight back in and drove the rest of the way home too (on dad’s knee). He did (tree aside) brilliantly and will have a lot of competition from his sister in a year or two’s time.

We now have a second bath on the ridge to enjoy. This means you can chat as you stare up at the milky way while a little fire under your bath keeps the water warm (or hot). This means you can spend quite a while enjoying the atmosphere. We have a hose running from the house to adjust the temperature if the fire is a little too effective. And with a little practice we’ll get the fire-making so that the baths are at about the same temperature. It is such a brilliant experience though.

The painting is well advanced. All the smaller rooms are done - just the main lounge and dining to go. The pinky red in the kitchen looks awesome with the new breakfast bar and I think it will look very smart when it is all complete - hopefully by next Monday.

In the meantime, a weekend of work awaits. Joy.

Is She Nuts?

I spoke today to SJ from Sarcastic Journalist. She lives in Houston and is staying despite the fact that Rita is bearing down on the area. Staying really because she doesn’t have a choice. If you want a real story about making the decision to stay or go - read her blog.

There is no gas. All those people? They’ve run out of gas and are now camping out on the roads. I met a family, a cute older Hispanic family, that left at 2:45 this morning and drove 48 miles, only to run out of gas. more

Back doing the weekend shift for the first time in a while - ahh it feels like slipping on a pair of ugg boots. In fact I wish I had them on right now as my tootsies are feeling somewhat cold. While it has been lovely moonlighting on Afternoons and Drive they are not my shows - it’s nice to get back to the old rhythm.

In renovation news…

Our floor is done (R has already scratched it!). The guy who did the coating of the floor (Ian) and did a fabulous job had to do it twice, the poor love, after leaving a footprint! That is a lot of polyurethane. But the result - bellissimo. Not that I’ve seen the floor you understand - but R says it is fantastic. Photo soon. Painting to come.

No blog, just a joke

Too tired to blog - pathetic excuse but there you are - I must be up early on the morrow. But so you don’t leave empty handed:

A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment. Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight. Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper, “Please wake me at 5:00 AM.” He left it where he knew she would find it.The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn’t wakened him, when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed. The paper said, “It is 5:00 AM. Wake up.”

Go the Eagles.

Scary Journalist

I interviewed Margo Kingston today. Scary journalist. I must admit to being completely intimidated. Here is a woman who has thrown in her salary and security and taken on the media barons at their word and is challenging them with her own form of blogpaper.

She denies she runs a blog with Webdiary and says it is an independent newspaper. Sure it is not a simple blog - but it sure looks like one.

Commenting is the big feature - audience interaction. I wonder if it has been everso that the gp otherwise known as the great unwashed has contributed to journalistic life. As long as I’ve worked in the media a number of stories were contributed by listeners either as a question, an observation or as fact that they wanted exposed. It is the nature of the beast and not just the province of blogged news reports - although at least in that case they are transparently via the public… if all are published. Anyway until her phone went off in the studio - nightmare - it was an interesting chat even if she was a little intimidating.

How lucky is George Walker eh? He gets a second chance to do it right. To wipe the Katrina slate clean by a perfect response to Rita. Of course if he stuffed up again…

Mainlining

Folic acid. I should do. I’m sure that PMT is the problem here. You see I think I have very active ovaries (nice to know they’re working). Certainly the signs are all there. Basically I should just warn you that two to three days after I have sore boobs I’m going to over-react to stupid restaurants who can’t serve fruit salad. I just am. So Wednesday - hurts when I jog - Saturday - cry in restaurant because I can’t get a bloody apple.

Felt much better after a couple of tabs of FA and I’ve been on them ever since. No crying in restaurants. Mind you I haven’t tried to order fruit salad since then either…

I broke a golden Sudoku rule today. The golden rule is NEVER GUESS. But I did and it worked so… meh.

What else?

God I hate it when Rory is right!

Painting the house - Rory says “We’re not giving the kids any choice on their wall colour. They can have a blue or purple feature wall. We’ll choose the colour. They’ll both get the same. There will be no arguments.”

“No”, I say, “They are individuals. They should have different colours.”

“They’ll fight. They won’t be able to agree. They’ll argue for colours other than the design palette.”

“No they won’t - we’ll give them a choice. They will appreciate it.”

I was wrong, Rory was right. Yes darling you are a better human being than I.

Children, I’m not angry with you. Just very disappointed.

Arguments all afternoon. He’s happy with blue. She’s happy with blue - but not that blue, in fact she’d prefer red, or a different purple, or can she have the green? Endless.

As Wesley says in The Princess Bride: "Get used to disappointment".

Happy Birthday Rory.

I have had one disappointment after another today but things are getting better. First, Rory’s birthday present wasn’t a great success. I thought I had got something a bit special, having listened to him when we were at this shop - but it turned out he was talking bollocks as usual and I was wrong. Shame really. Maybe I wasn’t listening properly. It happens.

Then we went to T in Cottesloe for breakfast as the place is noisy and dirty thanks to our floor renovations. I don’t know why I thought they would suddenly be nice for breakfast it never has been before. I should have gone to Vans (they have a policy of trying to satisfy customer desires). Nightmare. All I wanted for breakfast was a fruit salad. There wasn’t one on the menu but there were fresh fruit juices so I figured they had fruit. After all Caffissimo where I sometimes get breakfast when I start early at work has fruit salad. But no.

“What would you like?”
“I see you have fresh fruit juice, would it be possible to have a fruit salad?”
“I’ll check with the chef.”

She goes and checks with the chef.

“I’m sorry, the chef says we only have what is on the menu”

I was tempted to ask for a freshly squeezed juice, before they juice the fruit.

“Ah, just the coffee then thanks.”

The waitresses had obviously been well trained to make sure everything was all right. Several times we were asked if we were happy…

“How are you today?” Asks our waitress sweetly as she delivers our coffee.
“Disappointed.” I reply - NOT referring to the weather.
“Did you get blown away by the weather?” She replies as the howling wind forces the torrential rain through the closed windows spattering us with icy drops.

Another conversation.

“Our table is a bit wobbly. Would you mind bringing us something to stabilise it please?” Rory asks pleasantly.
“Certainly sir.” The matter is not raised again. Eventually we fold up one of their flyers advertising lunch and stop the table wobbling.

So, paying the bill. Service is included. That’s fine. Nearly $50 for pancakes (I), toast (H), a full breakfast (R) and one drink each. Whatever.

“How was the meal?”
“It was fine although I was disappointed the chef couldn’t make me a fruit salad.”
“Ah, well we can’t source decent fruit this time of the year, so the chef has taken it off the menu.”
“That’s interesting because other cafes can find enough decent fruit to make a fruit salad.”
“Well it will be back on the menu in October.”
“Fine. We might come back then, then.”

I sign the chit and make ready to leave.

“By the way, how was the food you did have?”
“The coffee was excellent, thank you.” Icily. Like the weather.

The waiter from WaiterRant would probably hate me too but then, I guess would at least try to make a polite customer happy. Thanks to his blog I do try to keep in mind the other side of the transaction. I also have a better understanding as what is reasonable to expect. So the fruit they had in wasn’t as good as you get in summer - probably they bought horrible fruit in because who cares when you juice it. But we didn’t get the courtesy of that explanation until we left.

They might not have had the right fruit for me this morning but for goodness sakes come up with a better reason not to have fruit salad on the menu. We don’t live in the outback. If the real reason is that the fruit is too expensive this time of year - either change the fruit you use or bump the price up a bit during winter. I can’t be the only person in Perth who would rather fruit than heart stopping full breakfasts.

Maybe I should rename this blog - Customer Rant - but now that I’m done I feel much better.

We went to see the new Wallace and Gromit movie afterwards which was great - lots of funny jokes that we got and the kids didn’t - like playing Bright Eyes on the radio - and other rabbit references. Afterward we drove down Selby street - they must have had a mini-tornado through there because there were several large trees at the corner of Underwood Avenue blown over.

Now the Eagles are 74, The Crows 43. Yay!

Addicted

Hello. My name is Cellobella and I have an addiction. So Doku. I just can’t stop doing the puzzles. At the lights in my car, on the toilet, during dinner, on the treadmill at the gym, I have had to physically restrain myself from sodokuing at work or I would get NOTHING done. Whenever I am waiting I twitch until I can find a puzzle.

My reading has suffered, my sleep has suffered, my family are ignored. I am a basket case!

Even this blog has been affected - look how short tonight’s entry is!

So obviously if you don’t know what I’m talking about you had better have a go yourself.
Visit Sudoku.com or The Times.

Oh no! Now I’m a pusher!!!

Breakfast Bar

This is the breakfast bar - now we just need to find some stools!

That is Colin from Remill. Notice the feature square in the kitchen floor cunningly designed so that we can get our dishwasher out of its little hole if need be. The boards in front of it simply lift out.

I’b gob a colb

Can you believe it? I haven’t had a cold in ages. And now I do. Arghh. I’m drinking straight lemon juice and not sleeping. Just what I don’t need. I’m grumpy grumpy grumpy. Anyway Rory has gone shopping. The kids have taken their bikes down to coles with instructions to buy me the morning paper (that will probably end up being the afternoon paper!). They have their pocket money so I don’t expect them home anytime soon.

I’ve put some nurturing Supertramp on the stereo - up LOUD. Probably that kid who practices his bagpipes across the road just when I’m settling down to a session of Australian Idol can hear it.

Coffee is making itself in the kitchen. Yeah. Already I’m feeling a bit better.

I haven’t been to the gym for two days (yesterday and today). I thought I should take a rest and try and get rid of this cold but it doesn’t seem to be working. I might try a yoga class later today or tomorrow.

Ah that coffee is lovely.

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