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I found the camera briefly, and got the photos on the puter, and now it’s lost again. It’s not the only important item suffering the lost, found, lost, found fate.
I found the ring I had thought was gone forever in Adelaide. I had tried to be relaxed about it and think about how it’s just an object, and life is bigger than that, yada yada. But I was feeling rather sooky about it anyway and now it’s much better. In other happy news I’ve finished a few things, some pants for the kid, a summer handbag for me (except for the button, which I’ve lost), the neice’s doll quilt (18 months late), and the Bloke’s quilt (more than two years late).

I like to think of myself as a person who isn’t very attached to objects and things and stuff. But I am. Most of us are. Moving is rather confronting in that regard. I’ve tossed and donated and garage saled and recycled and yet there are carloads and carloads and truckloads of things. We had to drive around yesterday looking for charity bins. Most of the ones we found were nearly full, so we’d get rid of one bag, then drive to the next one and repeat the process. Five bins later there was room in the car to collect the lad from Nanna’s. Christmas usually makes me feel ready to become a Minimalist and toss everything as I become swamped by all the new stuff. Moving house has the same effect. Having both at the same time makes me want to join a monastic order.
We had a quick dinner with friends last night, the kids hit the wall around 7pm, and the adults weren’t far behind. I was awake for the children’s fireworks, but I had been in my jarmies for some time. We saw in the new year in bed, surrounded by bags and boxes, unless of course the bags and boxes get up and move when the people go to sleep. We were woken by a drunk couple arguing outside our house at some stage, but it didn’t last long enough for me to get up and offer relationship advice (go home, sleep, and talk about it when you’ve sobered up). We got up this morning and walked into the city to find the Bloke some new jeans (same as the old ones, but without holes, they’re on sale at the moment) and the kid a few necessaries. If you have to hit the big yucky shops for post-Christmas sale prices, first thing in the morning on New Year’s Day is the time to do it. FYI: Hudsons coffee will be the only place open and they do now serve organic fairtrade coffee, but the staff may be too tired and hungover to notice you asking for it. I’m not really sure what I got, except that it was in a paper cup (which you get even if you’re drinking instore).
In other news, I’m now old enough that cabinet papers from the year of my birth are so old they are no longer secret. The new house, incidentally, is roughly the same vintage.

Last inner city curry on Sunday night. First country living beers (and soup from Nanna) on Monday. We’ve even got the new internet working (albeit slower than the current connection).
Packing books, chucking things, booking removalist, or finding camera so I can blog the new house?
Christmas is almost done. Christmas event number four is tomorrow. I’d show you the haul, but the camera, she is somewhere under piles of wrapping.
The short version is that I got some new art, the Bloke got some new art, and the kid has 35 new Matchbox cars/trucks/utes and one rather large and noisy bulldozer next to an old doll’s house with lovely new wooden furniture. He also insisted that I should paint his “males” on Christmas morning. Far be it from me to tell a male he can’t have a mani & pedi on a special occasion.
Also, the new house has brown velvet curtains in the living room, which will co-ordinate nicely with the loungesuit* lounge suite, and there are orange tiles in the kitchen. I’m planning to measure up the garden for a truckload of compost when we pop in there tomorrow morning before Christmas.
* Blogging while a little weary can lead to telling the world that you have a brown velvet loungesuit. Oh that it were true.
I know I said this last year, but I promise, next year your birthday present wont have Christmas wrapping,
love Mum
But not prayin’. Because we’re not the prayin’ kind. We’re not above beggin’, though it wasn’t in the song. We applied for a house last week, and we’d really quite like to get it. The agent will be ringin’ back today.
In the meantime, there’s knittin’ and sewin’ and wrappin’, and showing that we care, etc.
I finished a sock on the bus & train back from Carrum yesterday. The kid enjoyed the first of our family Christmases, especially the splashing and jumping in the water, although the train and bus trip there was also pretty exciting. He loved his pres-pres and I had to disappear them before childcare this morning to ensure he wouldn’t try to take them with him. He got a Beetle!
and a Dumb Fuck!
So, should we unpack the Christmas decorations, or for the third time in my life, will I be moving house the week before Christmas?



