A Letter From Grandma

In case you can't read Grandma's writing, this is what it says,

This is a funny story - Grandad was reading his paper and minding Peter,
and Peter climbed up on the end of the banana-bed. Grandad put his foot on
the top to stop it tipping up, then he had to put his other foot on the table to
stop him from tipping up, then he had to call for someone to grab
Peter.

How much do I care if this might be embarrassing to some of my 'lations?

P.S. Peter is my cousin. He is also now famous (well, maybe not internationally famous, but certainly around the regions wherer he's worked). I'm still claiming I have a famous cousin.

Dear Doctor...

I am writing to request transfer of my records to my local veterinary surgery on the following grounds:-

• I took my Little Black Dog to visit the vet today, and was actually in the car on my way home a whole minute BEFORE my appointment time.
• He didn't charge me for the consultation because it was just to check that things were healing properly (but when he charges me it's still cheaper despite not getting a Medicare refund).
• He must know his stuff, because he treats a number of different species of animals (and his patients can't explain what is wrong).

How legal would this be? *sigh*

Why?

There was a man.

Standing on the steep roof of an old Queenslander house.

With a green grocery bag in his hand.

The chance I had my camera with me as I drove into town?

The Dog in my Kitchen

There should not be a dog in my kitchen.

The Little Black Dog is not allowed to go in the kitchen.

He believes that he is not allowed to be CAUGHT in the kitchen.

There is a difference.

At the moment a three legged dog on timber floors has resulted in a few falls, which has made him worried about walking on the timber floors, which means that he then tried to run quickly, which meant that he stacked it faster, which meant that he wouldn't walk anywhere, which has resulted in me putting down every old towel we possess to give him traction and make doggy highways between his favourite resting places.

Now, though, he will go off the towels and not be able to turn around (the turning seems to increase the liklihood of falls). This has resulted in him getting himself stranded in the middle of the timber and making a huge fuss about being lifted back onto the towels. It is not easy if he gets himself stranded under the dining room table.

Why does he leave the towels in the first place? How does he get himself into the middle of nowhere, and why can't he get back?

But today I caught him in the kitchen. I ordered him out. He looked at me with the, "I'm a poor lame puppy who can't walk on the timber" look that he has perfected, lay down on the floor and went floppy. He's really difficult to pick up when he goes floppy. I carefully pushed all 19 kilos of him around the bench with my foot, handily mopping up some water I'd spilled when filling the ice-cube trays.

The chance that he's not bunging it on when it suits him?

I have proof that I'm co-ordinated!

Those who know me in real life will be very intrigued by the title. It might not seem consistent with what they know of me.

Anyone who's been following this blog for a bit may also be somewhat surprised by the title.

A couple of weeks ago I went to my first Zumba session. I loved it. I went again the next night!

My Beloved and I came to a budgetary agreement that for the next two months I'm allowed as much Zumba as I can get to, based on the fact there are only 4 sessions in the week here in town (unless I wanted to back to back a couple, and I think I'd probably die!) and that I have stuff on for one of the others (except in the school holidays).

So due to other commitments and illness I've managed to get to two sessions the first week, one the second, and I could only make it to one last week.

So as of Wednesday night I'd done all of 4 sessions. Some of it is getting easier.

Anyway the local high school had its annual Rodeo and showcase thing with rides and entertainment before the rodeo. The Zumba ladies had been asked to do a display, hopefully to get the crowd involved.

They were a little short on people to help demonstrate.

In fact they were desperate.

I know they were desperate, because they asked someone who has only done 4 sessions to come and help them.

They asked me.

I figure I was the large, unco-ordinated one that proved to the crowd that anyone can do this.

And I know I have a maniacal grin plastered on my face when I do Zumba firstly because it's fun and secondly because there's every chance I will entirely stuff it up. It's like a preemptive laugh at myself for being on the wrong foot or raising the wrong hand for at least a third of the proceedings.

But I couldn't help going for an additional session in my week (which was free!).

And the chance that all the newbie high school girls got it down better than me their first go?

(Well you'd hope not!)

2:15

AM.

Some advice:

When writing an assignment, if you have about another hour of work to do (so that it can be handed in tomorrow), DO NOT decide at 9.30pm that it's a good idea to entirely restructure it.

On the other hand, the chance it isn't much better now?

I really need better notes

When I'm writing assignments, I have to wade through pages and pages of notes I've taken while I've been reading in preparation.

It can be quite interesting, particularly when I started reading weeks ago, so the matter from the first few books is not fresh in my brain.

There are times when I've obviously been tired and unable to reduce a good quote to notes, so I've written out the whole paragraph.

There are times I've used obscure abbreviations and hieroglyphs for particular terms.

There are times when I've used particularly bad handwriting (even worse if it's in Greek script).

And there are times when I come across gems like this, "Big Julie refounded Corinth as a colony - 44BC"

How much money would you bet me that I haven't been exposed in childhood to quotes from "Rinse the Blood off my Toga"?

- Thanks Grandad.

A Beautiful Rainy Day

There is something so relaxing on your day off about waking to the sound of rain on the roof. It's been raining on and off all day and it is just lovely. I love rain. Anyway it comes.

The little watercourse that I can see from the back of our house is showing water beyond the line of the reeds where it is most likely to be wet.

Our rainwater tank is overflowing and creating a small lake where the water waits to pass into the neighbour's yard or soak in.

Our newly prepared vegie patch (my Beloved was busy last week and topsoiled, fertilised and mulched it ready for some new plants) is looking wet, and our sticks are continuing to put up fresh leaves.

And in celebration of a rainy lazy day I offer you another letter from my Grandma...


When Judy and John play tennis Grandad and Grandma watch them from the window.

And the chance that I'm not feeling lazy and sleepy on such a beautiful day?

Fancy-Schmanzy Architects may have a point.

At different times I've seen photos of swish houses where the en-suite has two basins.

Sometimes I've seen them on TV.

You'd reckon that I might at some point have stayed in a hotel room with this feature, but we don't stay in places that cost that much. Even in Asia.

I've always thought that it would just mean more work cleaning...

... but last night as I was wiping down the handbasin in our en-suite I reflected on the fact that two basins (as long as they were strictly 'his' and 'hers') would give clear evidence of who was the messy one who therefore is the one who should be wiping down the handbasin.

Same location, same amount of atmospheric dust and linty fluff, same degree of 'hardness' or 'softness' in the water. Different user.

How impressed was I to find a blob of toothpaste in the clean basin this morning?

Tad Troubling to the Ticker

Title just for Givinya, who has been enjoying my recent alliterative titles.

This one took a while.

I'm surprised I'm up to blogging.

Particularly summing up what I want to say in five words starting with the same letter.

You see, it is a study night and I'm supposed to be working on the reading for my second assignment. The plan is to finish the reading this week, then write it next in time for the deadline next Friday.

Okay, I've got to prepare a sermon for church on Sunday in the middle there somewhere, but as I'm sneakily using the same text as my assignment is on it should be the best researched sermon I've ever given, without taking up any extra time in the reading department.

So far that's fine.

Checked my email as I settled down to my desk. There were emails for a spate of Forum posts for the subject, so I'd better have a quick squizz.

One from the lecturer which included the words, "Friday is also the due date for Assignment 2, and ..."

I did not read the rest of the comment because my poor brain was fixated on the fact that Assignment 2, that I had marked in my diary as due on the 17th of September, was in fact due IN TWO DAYS TIME!!!!

The human brain is marvellous. It can race to top gear in a split second. People who think they are going to die speak of seeing their whole life flash before their eyes.

My brain can take in all that still needs to happen in the time frame and come up with the obvious answer that it is probably not possible, even though the lecturer had said Sunday evening was fine if we needed the weekend to finish (which wouldn't help me very much, because I have a service to prepare for).

Anyway, maybe I could get something submittable done with a couple of all nighters, and by not doing any more reading (leaving my Bibliography woefully short, unless I did the read-two-random-pages-in-each-of-the-remaining-books-and-hope-there's-something-I-can-reference thing).

My brain then flicked to wonder precisely how dumb it would sound to write and request an extention on the grounds that I can't read a Study Outline.

Then flicked to think that I needed to check the Study Outline, because I was certain it was the 17th not the 10th. I mean, I've done some dumb stuff before, but...

All this took about 0.3 seconds.

5 years of which was spent staring at the email in dawning horror.

Thankfully, the next email was from a concerned student who was certain that the due date was the 17th, not the 10th.

There was another on much the same topic.

And a response from the lecturer apologising because he had the date wrong.

How much did my blood pressure require the exercise?

... Approximately None!

The Traitress

I am a horrible woman.

Multiple times a day I am taking advantage of the willingness and obedience of a Little Black Dog.

I lure him into the laundry, put the bucket collar on him, then lock him in and go off to whatever is in the diary for the day.

His little eyes reproach me.

And the next time I tell him to go through the door he still does it uncomplainingly.

He waits for my return.

Either he is stupid or he loves me very, very much.

And, for the record, how much higher is my IQ than his?

... Approximately None!

The Triumvirate of Terror

Pretty spectacular-sounding title, hey?

Might be a bit of an overkill.

...Maybe.

My Mum and her two sisters are having a week together this week. Mum's younger sister from Brisbane picked Mum up on Sunday and the two of them have flown to Victoria to spend the week with their older sister in the deep south.

Doesn't sound too scary when it's put like that, but it is enough to send my uncle fleeing the country.

Well, okay, he was leaving the country anyway which is why the girls decided to have the week together. But it sounds better the other way around.

What odds will I give you that Victoria will still be standing by this time next week?

... Approximately None.

After today I think I've confirmed everyone's suspicions that I'm a bit air-headed...

It has been one of those days.

7.30am - Prayer breakfast

8.45am - Get home and take a picture as a background for our church's new website banner (for September - yep, right in time for the new month). Download it. Put the necessary writing on it. Get onto the admin site and upload the image. Realise that it has a typo. Not an important one, or anything. Just the name of the town the church is located in.

10.20am - Frustrated at not getting the website update finished, but take the LBD to the vet to get his dressing changed and for the vet to make sure that everything is looking good. It is, he's walking on it, but doesn't like the sticky bandage coming off. Pushes against me so hard that his good back leg falls off the table and he tries to take all his weight on the bad one.

10.55am - Put dog in the laundry because I have to go out soon. Madly work on the computer to fix the typo, re-upload September's website banner and fix it. Try to insert a new news article, that doesn't end up showing on the public site, but I have to go out again...

11.30am - Meeting with one of our music ladies about a potential solo for Sunday. Words of song are perfect for the service. Can't get onto Sunday's organist. Have a bit of a discussion about deep theological stuff. Get fuel, pick up the hospital pastoral care phone on the way home.

12.45pm - Get home, put some soup in the microwave to defrost. Check dog. He has managed to eat or in other ways get rid of half his bandage. Ring vet. I can bring him straight down. Great.

1pm - try to lift resisting dog out of the back of the car. Drag him into the vet. Vet fixes new bandage. Buy pigs ears to try to keep the LBD entertained while I'm gone.

1.15pm - Put soup on to reheat. Find the LBDs bucket-collar in the back of the top shelf of the cupboard so that he can't eat his bandage. Gather materials for 2pm meeting, remembering the letter I have to post, and the CD to leave for someone at the office.

1.30pm - eat lunch quickly. Burn tongue.

1.45pm - Grab dog. Put on bucket collar, grab pig ear in other hand, then pick up the dog to carry him downstairs to the laundry. Try to push him into the laundry, despite his unwillingness and the fact that the bucket collar gets stuck on the door, which can't open fully because he's rearranged all his bedding. Run upstairs and grab handbag and stuff I need.

1.50pm - Realise that my car/house keys are not in my handbag. They are not on my desk. They are not in the kitchen. They are not in the bedroom. Put everything down and check each of these places three times. Stop and think about what I did when I first got home. Check the shelves in the cupboard where the bucket-collar was. Grab keys. Grab stuff.

2.03pm - Apologise for being late to the meeting. Have meeting to organise Sunday's service. Find out that our organist is away and is not due back til the end of the week. Scrap potential solo.

3.30pm - pack up stuff after meeting. Decide to have a quick run-through of a new song for Sunday (to be accompanied by guitar). Realise that I've lost the CD I had to leave in the office for someone to pick up. Go through all the stuff I have with me. It isn't there. Check the car, my path between the car and the church hall, the office and the meeting room three times each.

3.40pm - Decide that I really need to get home to my Little Black Dog.

3.47pm - Find CD and letter I was going to post on my desk. Ring the lady who was going to pick up the CD. Get her husband. She's just left for the church. Leave message. Ring church. Leave message.

Just now - get new email with the minutes of last week's meeting to plan the Spring Fair. Realise that I should have been there and wasn't because it had entirely slipped my mind.

What amount of respect am I going to have from my church after today's little effort?

... Approximately None!

I like Spring, too.

Okay, so I don't like the weeds.

And I don't like the fact that when you take off your jumper you can't keep pretended that the extra Jen is just the added bulk of heavy clothing.

But it is a truly beautiful day.

And the air has a special promise of good things to come.

Yesterday was the first time I'd worn a skirt in months.

And the chance that I didn't have to spend a little more time in the shower and a permit for vegetation removal in preparation for my lilly white legs being on display?

... You guessed it! (Not that it's too hard to guess, really)

The LBD is AOK

Just letting you know that the LBD's surgery yesterday went well. He spent the night at the vet's (it was a late surgery due to the vet having to semen test 30 bulls in the morning - glad that it isn't my job!) and was very glad to see me this morning.

Chris popped in to see him last night and got a groggy tail thump.

The LBD loves his Daddy.

His back leg is strapped up in a crimson bandage that he is determined to eat. Whatever is left will come off on Monday, we go back to get stitches out a week later, then we can start with the slow walks as he improves.

How much excitement is there in his life right now?

... Approximately None!