Spring has sprung in Canberra. Its beautiful! The weather is divine - cool crisp mornings, and sunny days.
But there are traps to spring. Suddenly dawn breaks so much earlier, flooding my bedroom with searchlight strength brightness at an unholy hour. Plants erupt with flowers, triggering horrendous hayfever for those sensitive to it.
But for me, the worst is the wildlife.
If you haven't heard possums mating, then you've missed a true Australian experience. But at 2 in the morning in the gum tree outside my window, it is a very unwelcome sound. As are the shrieking birds at 4 am (well before dawn). The dog that barks up the road. And the neighbour who gets picked up at 5 am by a large truck......
I think I want winter back.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Out of the mouths of babes
I haven't had much to say lately - I've been too busy, too tired, too distracted... Or just plain haven't had much to say! Tonight I am playing bedtime troll to 6 children under 6 and as such am sitting quietly, waiting for the next outburst and taking advantage of some quiet time to catch people up on where things are at.
Exactly nowhere more exciting than they have been for months. I have my own place, but I haven't found the energy or cash to do anything more to it. The onset of summer will probably encourage me to bother with blinds and curtains to keep the heat out, and hopefully by next winter I will have bothered to organise better heating, but otherwise, I probably still wont have got to painting the bedrooms, installing new flooring or ventilating the bathroom!
I still have no love life - and I admit I'm not making much of a push towards getting one. Funnily enough, sitting around in your own living room doesn't afford many opportunities for meeting eligible men.
I'm still frustrated with my family, in particular the ones who live nearby. I did not appreciate getting a lecture on 'loving god' from a five year old this evening. Mostly because I am quite offended by the 5 year old being told that I don't love god. There are those that will argue that it's true, but the person who told the child doesn't actually know what my stance on god is - never having bothered to actually ask me, just assuming based on the obvious - that they haven't managed to convince me to drag myself to church with them every weekend. For the record - I vowed never to go back into that particular church after attending a service in which the main subject of the sermon was how great martyrdom is.
I admit I have a problem religions which focus on how great everything will be once you are dead. It kind of makes me wonder how they get through the living bit at all.... Its frankly morbid, and I believe that whatever else you may believe in, it the living bit that matters - what you do with your life and how you acquit yourself as a thinking, feeling human being. What matters is how you would be remembered here, not how the scales of divine justice play out after you've gone to feed the worms.
Anyway - so rant over. I'll just chalk it up to another 'we are just totally different people' moment and let it slide on by.
Back to being the bedtime troll - there are distinctly suspicious noises coming from bedroom number 1........
Exactly nowhere more exciting than they have been for months. I have my own place, but I haven't found the energy or cash to do anything more to it. The onset of summer will probably encourage me to bother with blinds and curtains to keep the heat out, and hopefully by next winter I will have bothered to organise better heating, but otherwise, I probably still wont have got to painting the bedrooms, installing new flooring or ventilating the bathroom!
I still have no love life - and I admit I'm not making much of a push towards getting one. Funnily enough, sitting around in your own living room doesn't afford many opportunities for meeting eligible men.
I'm still frustrated with my family, in particular the ones who live nearby. I did not appreciate getting a lecture on 'loving god' from a five year old this evening. Mostly because I am quite offended by the 5 year old being told that I don't love god. There are those that will argue that it's true, but the person who told the child doesn't actually know what my stance on god is - never having bothered to actually ask me, just assuming based on the obvious - that they haven't managed to convince me to drag myself to church with them every weekend. For the record - I vowed never to go back into that particular church after attending a service in which the main subject of the sermon was how great martyrdom is.
I admit I have a problem religions which focus on how great everything will be once you are dead. It kind of makes me wonder how they get through the living bit at all.... Its frankly morbid, and I believe that whatever else you may believe in, it the living bit that matters - what you do with your life and how you acquit yourself as a thinking, feeling human being. What matters is how you would be remembered here, not how the scales of divine justice play out after you've gone to feed the worms.
Anyway - so rant over. I'll just chalk it up to another 'we are just totally different people' moment and let it slide on by.
Back to being the bedtime troll - there are distinctly suspicious noises coming from bedroom number 1........
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The interweb is awesome!!!
I finally got proper internet installed this week! After a month with limited connectivity through a Wireless USB modem, I now have unlimited, high speed internet. In fact, this connection is significantly better than my old cable connection, despite the fact that it is over an aging single pair cable that should be pretty crap.
I love the internet.
I love the internet.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Home sweet home
I have now been in residence for 2 weeks. I think I have settled in pretty well. I've got the living space sorted out, the bedrooms are still largely in boxes. But as I spend most of my time in the living space, that's not really a problem.
I recieved my first housewarming gift last night:
I now have parsley, thyme and chives. I just hope they cope with the frosty temperatures on the balcony, if not, I'll have to find somewhere inside for them.
Next weekend I am going shopping for a new bathroom vanity. Then I'm getting the plumber in to fix all the dripping taps! Once that is sorted out, I'll start on the bedrooms. I expect to spend most of my free time over the next few months patching, plastering and painting!
I recieved my first housewarming gift last night:
I now have parsley, thyme and chives. I just hope they cope with the frosty temperatures on the balcony, if not, I'll have to find somewhere inside for them.
Next weekend I am going shopping for a new bathroom vanity. Then I'm getting the plumber in to fix all the dripping taps! Once that is sorted out, I'll start on the bedrooms. I expect to spend most of my free time over the next few months patching, plastering and painting!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The mystery of other peoples standards
So this week I settled on a two bedroom unit. Exciting right? It is amazing though, how disappointing these sort of things can be. On Monday I had an appointment for the pre-settlement inspection, and I was shocked by the condition of the place. It had been rented out, and the tenants clearly hadn't bothered to clean anything when they left. Also, their standards were obviously way under par by most peoples standards (I hope anyway).
The two bedrooms were heavily infested with mould. The window frames were absolutely covered in thick black slime and the walls peppered with grey-black haze. The carpets hadn't been cleaned and the mould was clearly evident around the edges of the floor.
The bathroom hadn't been cleaned either, more mould, specks of toothpaste, soup scum on the shower screen that clearly hadn't even been wiped.
The rest of the place wasn't much better, the floor clearly hadn't been mopped, and in the kitchen, it was obvious that they hadn't been cleaned properly for some time. While the top of the stove was clean, all the surrounding surfaces hadn't been touched. There were oil spatters and food spots all over the cupboards wall beside and the splashback and adjacent bench. The floor around the stove was covered with a thick layer of grease with dirt and grime set into it.
The windows and balcony sliding door hadn't been cleaned, and the surrounds were full of dirt and grime, with more mould and general filth.
Its disappointing on a number of fronts. First, that people can live with that without noticing. Second, that tenants leaving a property can walk away from it like that. Third, that the vendors response was not to take the tenants bond and get a professional cleaner in, but to pop in that night and wipe away the more obvious mould from the bedroom walls but otherwise do nothing.
My solicitor was less than impressed - the standard for selling a home is 'clean and tidy', and as the agent commented - it was 'way below par'. But with the options being, delay settlement and hope that the vendors managed to get it to just acceptable by the end of the week or accept it and clean it myself (which lets face it, I was going to do anyway having seen the state it was in!). I expressed my disappointment through the solicitor and took it on the chin.
I have since ripped up the bedroom carpets exposing the bare concrete beneath, used 4 bottles of mould treatment, 2 cans of Glen 20 (also an effective mould killer according to the government factsheets) a large packet of chux clothes, and half a bottle of sugar soup. The walls are now paint coloured, the window frames almost look ok, and my hands are peeling and sore. But I managed to get in yesterday as planned.
Thanks to the boys who provided muscle, and the girls who provided food. Special mention to the man who knows how to tie knots, whose expertise meant that we could haul the vast majority of the stuff over the balcony and not have to carry it up 4 flights of narrow stairs. Watching your microwave float up through the air is a little disturbing, but everything made it up unscathed and we managed not to take out the downstairs neighbours on the way up.
Today I am returning to the old place for what should be the last car load of stuff, and to clean up. But not being a grot, that means I need to vacuum, mop and wipe down the flat surfaces, because I actually keep things clean - including regular cleaning of windows and surrounds, all kitchen surfaces and actually opening windows now and then to let the fresh air in and keep things like mould at bay!!!
The two bedrooms were heavily infested with mould. The window frames were absolutely covered in thick black slime and the walls peppered with grey-black haze. The carpets hadn't been cleaned and the mould was clearly evident around the edges of the floor.
The bathroom hadn't been cleaned either, more mould, specks of toothpaste, soup scum on the shower screen that clearly hadn't even been wiped.
The rest of the place wasn't much better, the floor clearly hadn't been mopped, and in the kitchen, it was obvious that they hadn't been cleaned properly for some time. While the top of the stove was clean, all the surrounding surfaces hadn't been touched. There were oil spatters and food spots all over the cupboards wall beside and the splashback and adjacent bench. The floor around the stove was covered with a thick layer of grease with dirt and grime set into it.
The windows and balcony sliding door hadn't been cleaned, and the surrounds were full of dirt and grime, with more mould and general filth.
Its disappointing on a number of fronts. First, that people can live with that without noticing. Second, that tenants leaving a property can walk away from it like that. Third, that the vendors response was not to take the tenants bond and get a professional cleaner in, but to pop in that night and wipe away the more obvious mould from the bedroom walls but otherwise do nothing.
My solicitor was less than impressed - the standard for selling a home is 'clean and tidy', and as the agent commented - it was 'way below par'. But with the options being, delay settlement and hope that the vendors managed to get it to just acceptable by the end of the week or accept it and clean it myself (which lets face it, I was going to do anyway having seen the state it was in!). I expressed my disappointment through the solicitor and took it on the chin.
I have since ripped up the bedroom carpets exposing the bare concrete beneath, used 4 bottles of mould treatment, 2 cans of Glen 20 (also an effective mould killer according to the government factsheets) a large packet of chux clothes, and half a bottle of sugar soup. The walls are now paint coloured, the window frames almost look ok, and my hands are peeling and sore. But I managed to get in yesterday as planned.
Thanks to the boys who provided muscle, and the girls who provided food. Special mention to the man who knows how to tie knots, whose expertise meant that we could haul the vast majority of the stuff over the balcony and not have to carry it up 4 flights of narrow stairs. Watching your microwave float up through the air is a little disturbing, but everything made it up unscathed and we managed not to take out the downstairs neighbours on the way up.
Today I am returning to the old place for what should be the last car load of stuff, and to clean up. But not being a grot, that means I need to vacuum, mop and wipe down the flat surfaces, because I actually keep things clean - including regular cleaning of windows and surrounds, all kitchen surfaces and actually opening windows now and then to let the fresh air in and keep things like mould at bay!!!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Mondayitis (PG for bodily functions)
It turns out that this weekend is a long weekend and the week a short week for me.
'Yay' you say? Well, not really. After a couple of weeks of bad sleep, this weekend it spiralled out of control and culminated last night with being woken up just as I was dozing off at 11pm by the people next door coming home. Loud car music, loud voices, doors slamming....... There was no going back, I tossed and turned for hours.
My body has an interesting physical response to lack of sleep. It suddenly decides that the only way to make me stay in one place long enough to get a couple of hours sleep is to turn my bowels to mush. That's right. My body thinks that a bout of gastro is the perfect way to get me to sleep.
It is of course not that simple. To start with, I have to get out of bed at regular intervals. Also, its pretty cold here at the moment, and every time I dash out of bed, my body loses 8 degrees and I have to shiver manically for 15 minutes to return to a normal temperature, often just in time to get out of bed again. And of course, its really not that easy to sleep while you worry about whether you'll make it out of bed in time.
So, after being hit with my body's 'you need to sleep' response at about 2 in the morning, I finally managed to get to sleep sometime after 4am. And then the alarm went off at 6:20. I seriously considered just getting up and staggering into work. But when I tried to sit up, the muscles refused to function and I nearly brained myself on the bedhead. So I reset the alarm for a more civilised hour and dozed off.
When the alarm again pulled me through the vortex of pain, I called my boss. She had her phone turned off. So I left a message, and thanks to the joys of the web enabled phone, wrote an email to her work address without having to move more than about 15 inches in total. Then I passed out. Literally. I dont remember hitting the send button, or putting the phone back (which actually, it turns out I didn't).
Its ok though. About half an hour ago I rose out of the haze following a soft buzz from said phone (vibrate alert for incoming email) and the boss says 'all good, sleep well, see you tomorrow'.
So - a long weekend. Sort of. I'm marooned on my couch, tossing up whether if I go back to bed now I'll manage any more sleep before the miracle hour of midday when daytime napping becomes a disaster waiting to happen. And as for the short week, I now have 8 working days instead of 9 to prepare for a week off. Which wont actually be a week off as I will be engaged in hard physical labour moving boxes around. But hey, so I have about 4 weeks of work to squeeze into that time. If I pull it off they can continue to underestimate how much work I do, and if I don't they might see they should hire someone to help.
PS. Louise - please note the efforts I made to include all apostrophes in the appropriate places (I think).
'Yay' you say? Well, not really. After a couple of weeks of bad sleep, this weekend it spiralled out of control and culminated last night with being woken up just as I was dozing off at 11pm by the people next door coming home. Loud car music, loud voices, doors slamming....... There was no going back, I tossed and turned for hours.
My body has an interesting physical response to lack of sleep. It suddenly decides that the only way to make me stay in one place long enough to get a couple of hours sleep is to turn my bowels to mush. That's right. My body thinks that a bout of gastro is the perfect way to get me to sleep.
It is of course not that simple. To start with, I have to get out of bed at regular intervals. Also, its pretty cold here at the moment, and every time I dash out of bed, my body loses 8 degrees and I have to shiver manically for 15 minutes to return to a normal temperature, often just in time to get out of bed again. And of course, its really not that easy to sleep while you worry about whether you'll make it out of bed in time.
So, after being hit with my body's 'you need to sleep' response at about 2 in the morning, I finally managed to get to sleep sometime after 4am. And then the alarm went off at 6:20. I seriously considered just getting up and staggering into work. But when I tried to sit up, the muscles refused to function and I nearly brained myself on the bedhead. So I reset the alarm for a more civilised hour and dozed off.
When the alarm again pulled me through the vortex of pain, I called my boss. She had her phone turned off. So I left a message, and thanks to the joys of the web enabled phone, wrote an email to her work address without having to move more than about 15 inches in total. Then I passed out. Literally. I dont remember hitting the send button, or putting the phone back (which actually, it turns out I didn't).
Its ok though. About half an hour ago I rose out of the haze following a soft buzz from said phone (vibrate alert for incoming email) and the boss says 'all good, sleep well, see you tomorrow'.
So - a long weekend. Sort of. I'm marooned on my couch, tossing up whether if I go back to bed now I'll manage any more sleep before the miracle hour of midday when daytime napping becomes a disaster waiting to happen. And as for the short week, I now have 8 working days instead of 9 to prepare for a week off. Which wont actually be a week off as I will be engaged in hard physical labour moving boxes around. But hey, so I have about 4 weeks of work to squeeze into that time. If I pull it off they can continue to underestimate how much work I do, and if I don't they might see they should hire someone to help.
PS. Louise - please note the efforts I made to include all apostrophes in the appropriate places (I think).
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Time drags when your not having fun....
In three weeks, at about this time, I will be in my own place. In just over 2 weeks, I'll officially take ownership. This is exciting.
I have however been just a little stressed lately. This week I developed dermatitis on my hands, and today I chipped a tooth - probably because I've been grinding. Its going to be a very long 3 weeks.......
I have however been just a little stressed lately. This week I developed dermatitis on my hands, and today I chipped a tooth - probably because I've been grinding. Its going to be a very long 3 weeks.......
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