Garage sail

Someone was holding a garage sale down the road on the weekend. They had a big hand-painted sign:

1500 books!

Tempting.

They also had a couple of other signs:

Sail of the century!

and

Everythink must go!

I decided to give it a miss.

Number 13

So we’ve bought a house. I know, I can’t quite believe it either. Of course, being the first house for both of us it’s a renovators delight. But you can walk to the beach and the shops and it has a huge yard. Settlement is in three weeks and I can’t wait. The carpet is going as soon as we move in.

It was all a bit of a shock. We had been watching this house, thinking it could be a good buy but it was way too expensive. We watched the price slide, and slide, and then it got to the point where we thought we might be able to beat them down enough. So we looked at it and the next morning made an offer.

We were scheduled to drive to Brisbane to see Picasso’s collection that day and spent the morning trying to get hold of the bank manager. We decided to leave and of course as we did so he called. We went straight over, the car all packed up ready to just keep driving on to Brisbane. He told us we should go for it so we rang the agent and left a message. Eager to get on to Brisbane we just decided to drive. The agent rang back when we got the Big Banana and I pulled in to talk and we made an offer. By the time we got to Korora the offer was accepted. We stopped at Woolgoolga and engaged a solicitor. Over the phone. On recommendation. (Thankfully that all worked out well). Then we drove non-stop to Brisbane, except for a roadside pee for Dash, checked into our apartment, had one beer to celebrate and then fell asleep.

I feel I should write something here about how I never thought I would buy a house, the Sydney property market being what it is and having beaten me down in the years I spent there, and all that. I should write someting about turning over a new leaf, this is a new chapter, I have a new life, three years down the track, etc etc. But that’s all twee, and frankly, boring.

All I need to say is: home. At last.

Swimming in July

Swimming in July

Originally uploaded by stack

We went swimming two days ago and it was actually quite pleasant. Unbelievable for this time of the year. There were more people swimming today and I would have gone in had we had the required attire.

I have always fancied becoming a ‘winter swimmer’ but have always found something to stop me. The water temp is currently hovering around 20 degrees celsius so I have no excuse, especially when we get to 24 degrees during the day…

Walking up mow with a meever

Dash has been walking around singing Silverchair’s ‘Straight Lines’ lately (and when I say ’singing’ I mean moaning a bit and getting the words all wrong) so I downloaded it for him and then called him in to give him his ’surprise’. He then pointed out to me that he doesn’t have any “rock” music on a CD. Which is true. He has plenty of Wiggles, some Rolf Harris, some Play School and some dodgy Yank CDs that were 2 bucks at Big W.

So we sat down at the Mac and I assembled a play list for him, of his choosing, and burnt it to a CD. It goes a little something like this:

1. Straight Lines - Silverchair
2. We Will Rock You - Queen
3. My Doorbell - The White Stripes
4. Chasing Pavements - Adele
5. You Can’t Always Get What You Want - Rolling Stones
6. 1234 - Feist
7. Road Rage - Catatonia
8. Pull Shapes - The Pipettes
9. I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’ - Scissor Sisters
10. That’s Not My Name - The Ting Tings
11. Just a Song About Ping Pong - Operator Please
12. Do Ya - Peaches

I scrawled ‘Dash’s rock’ on the CD and now every time we go out in the car he dutifully and rather hopefully brings it out and places it on the front seat for me to insert into the CD player.

It could have been a LOT worse.

Country lessons #486 - #489

Lesson #486
At a function advertised as a ‘cocktail party’ it is not always necessary to serve said beverages*.

Lesson #487
A motivational speaker is appropriate entertainment for a ‘cocktail party’.

Lesson #488
It is quite acceptable to include samosas and spring rolls on a ‘Mexican’ menu. Anything that has seen chilli will do.

Lesson #489
A dress code of ‘cocktail/mexican’ is just asking for trouble.

*Unless you count the doubtful looking sangria ladled from a punch bowl by bar staff.

Football while doing the dishes

I am always looking for excuses to post about sport and usually I am waiting for some kind of connection to books or writers because after all, this used to be a book blog.

Today I found AS Byatt writing about Euro 2008 and I knew I had another excuse. If you love football go and read it. If you love AS Byatt go and read it. If you love neither read it. Who knew she was so enamoured of football? I loved the article, she managed to sum up so much about why I love football, how I watch it and how it becomes a part of people’s lives, even those that read books.

I haven’t been watching a huge amount of Euro 2008 because I don’t have pay tv and the  highlights show on SBS is at a time when there’s homework to be supervised, shirts to be ironed and cooking to be done. When I do manage to sit down Dash always manages to put himself between me and the telly and/or sit next to me with his arm draped tightly around my neck while he proceeds to ask me one hundred questions about the game.

What team are you going for Mummy? And which colour are they wearing? And why aren’t you going for the blue team, because that’s your favourite colour? I am going for all the teams, then I am always happy. And what’s the score? There’s no goals, this is sooo boring, don’t you think it’s boring Mummy? And what are we having for dinner? And why did he fall over? Why don’t you like that one Mummy? Is this the Swans? Well, they’re red, why isn’t this the Swans? Oh yes, the ball is round. Was that a goal? It looked like it went in the net! When are they going to get a gooooaaaaallll Mummmmmmyyyyyy?

And on and on. Eventually I give up. I’ll start making dinner while keeping one eye on the football and Les and Fozzie (that good Lismore boy).

The thing that I have really enjoyed about this tournament is the podcast. The Guardian and Five Live have produced podcasts that I dutifully download every day and then transfer to my iPod. I listen to them while I wash up. I will forever associate James Richardson’s voice with being elbow deep in hot soapy water. I’ll miss them all when it’s all over, which will be by this time tomorrow.

I think it will be the (boringbut predictably efficient) Germans but I do hope the (rather more exciting but unpredictable) Spanish prevail.

Listening to: sigur ros

You know when you have heard of a band but haven’t really spent enough time listening to them to make you uber-familiar? And then when you do accidentally listen to them you are struck down with dumbness because they sum up exactly where you at, at that particular point in time? And you wonder why in heck you hadn’t listened before? And to admit not knowing them backwards and forwards does serious damage to your music cred?

Well, that’s where I’m at right at the moment with sigur ros.

Where have you been all my life?

Listen to Hoppipola

It’s a meme

I haven’t done a meme in ages. I saw this at Ampersand Duck and Pavlov and thought I would take it and run:

What was I doing ten years ago?

Experiencing one of the most turbulent years of my life. Finishing Uni. Starting a new part time job that would eventually lead to an entire career, whether I liked it or not.

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

1. Anything pickled (esp onions and chillis)

2. Top Deck.

3. Blue Castello (aka ‘fat on fat’)

4. Salami of any description

5. Whatever is left over from last night’s tea

Five snacks I enjoy in the real world:

1. Anything pickled (esp onions and chillis)

2. Bananas

3. Crumpets

4. Salami of any description

5. Whatever is left over from last night’s tea

Five things I would do if I were a billionaire:

1. Give up the job and write

2. Go to Anfield

3. Buy a house

4. Pay off family debts

5. Give it away

Five jobs that I have had:

1. Information Architect

2. Web Editor

3. Admin assistant

4. Book shop assistant

5. Milk delivery girl

Three of my habits:

1. The internet

2. Chewing PK orange gum

3. Reading on the loo

Five places I have lived:

1. Sawtell, NSW

2. Alstonville, NSW

3. Newtown, NSW

4. Leichhardt, NSW

5. Coogee, NSW

As I am possibly the last blogger on earth to do this meme I can pass it on to no one. If you want it, it’s yours.

Can’t think of a headline that doesn’t use the shoe/fits cliche so I won’t

I am officially getting old. It’s the shoes you see. Since stress fracturing my foot I can’t wear most of my shoes. There has been talk of orthotics. I’ve looked at Homy-Peds with a new understanding. Anything flat makes my foot hurt and gets me worried about causing another fracture.

I used to think younger people who wore orthotics and complained about foot pain and such things really should just shut up and get on with it. They were whingers. Old people had problems with their feet. Like back pain, I found it so BORING to hear about. Incredibly painful if you are suffering from it but tedious for all around you.

And foot pain is tedious. It’s that kind of nagging pain that is not bad enough to warrant pain killers but uncomfortable enough to inhibit your day-to-day life. No one wants to hear about it and I don’t blame them

I can tell all those around me are sick of me whinging about my feet and the fact that I can’t get a decent pair of runners. Which leads me to the one of the biggest gripes about having to wear sensible shoes ALL THE TIME. I have taken to wearing runners because they are practical. It’s fairly simple, I want something in any colour but white. Black preferably. I can wear kids sizes. I can’t wear mens. I wear jeans a lot and the Seinfeld look just doesn’t do it for me. Call me crazy.

Seinfeld: It’s just wrong

I am not the only one who doesn’t want their feet lit up like the main drag on a Saturday night. I have spoken to a lot of people about this. (Ok, about three people in my family). One would think that it would not be hard to walk into a shoe store and find a pair of comfortable runners in a dark hue that fit me. Well, in this town it’s impossible. They exist, I’ve seen them on the internet. It must be true. I could order them online but something about buying shoes online that are supposed to be ultra-comfortable just doesn’t sit well with me.

So, I’ll wear this pair that are vaguely suitable until they wear out and every now and then I’ll slip into my favourite boots until I am hobbling and am forced back to the runners. In the meantime I am hoping that someone in a sports shoe company will get it into their heads that not everyone wants to wear shoes that could blind you.

Reading blitz

A photo all readers and book buyers can understand.

Not even the Blitz can stop the browsing for a good book:

Credit: an email my mother sent me. Ideas about original source most welcome.

UPDATE: I found the image in: Under Siege: Literary Life in London 1939-45 by Robert Hewison. It has the photo on the cover and also inside. It is apparently the Holland House library in 1941.