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It was so kind of you to address your first blog post in two years to me personally. I’ve been smiling all morning since I read it. And feeling a bit old. Feel free to take responsibility for the smiles and I’ll take full responsibility for the old thing.
Anyway, it was great to read about your travel plans, and I thought, well, if Gareth can get his act together to blog after two years I can update the world on the goings on here. I’ve been letting the blog go a bit. It needs weeding and watering. And content.
Ahem. We celebrated the kid’s birthday a bit early to make sure he got his moment in the sun before everyone started talking about Christmas.
He requested an Old Macdonald Had A Farm cake. My oldest friends spent their Saturday night making marzipan animals and a tractor. I slathered the green food colouring around.
Having realised that his knees were hitting the handlebars on the trike he was given last year we decided to get him a two wheeler bike. He unwrapped the helmet first and said “it’s a helmet for riding a two wheeler, you could go to the shop and borrow a bike for me to ride”. So it turns out we overspent, because he would have been ok with just borrowing a bike every now and then. He was speechless when he unwrapped the bike, and now i understand why my grandpa enjoyed Christmas so much. Being able to give your kids something they didn’t even dare dream about is so cool.
We’ve been getting ready for Christmas. The Bloke’s family will be here Christmas Day, we’re looking forward to it and trying to work out how many extra glasses and chairs we have to borrow. I found a bunch of new plates and bowls in the local oppies and they’ve all had a run in the new (to us) dishwasher. We inherited a dishwasher. Let’s not talk about how exciting that is because it’s one of those things that contributes to feeling old. The kid has enjoyed Christmasses past, but this one is the first he’s able to anticipate and get excited about before the actual day. He’s figuring out who Santa is, and that there’ll be presents and a party and “all my friends will be there”.* The Bloke and I, atheist and apathetic about Christmas for so many years, find ourselves enjoying the making of decorations, the purchasing of presents (and getting competitive about which of us has found the Best Present) and we even bought a tree.
Our excitement hasn’t made us completely loopy, when I say “bought a tree” I mean “went to Diggers and purchased a small olive tree”. Dammit I’m not spending money on a tree that doesn’t produce edibles. Our olive tree is still very small, the kid helped pot it up and made lots of appropriate oo-ing and ah-ing noises about the decorations. The tree itself isn’t sturdy enough yet to hold up all those decorations by itself so we’ve enlisted the help of the Macquarie Dictionary.
The kid has also learned to pose for photos. The elbow on the heater cracks me up. How does he even know to reference all those Gentleman leaning on fireplaces in grand houses?
* Which is to say “my grandparents, my cousins, any aunty who brings treats (all of them) and Uncle D who has a boat and is therefore the coolest of cool”
So far this birthday week (week is used here rather loosely, it’s already been a week and I haven’t actually had the birthday yet) I’ve received two presents. The first was an electric blanket from the Bloke, which observant types will notice was at least half for himself, and the second just came in the mail from my aunt.
Hilarious no? Happy birthday and welcome to Central Victorian winter.
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.
You should have figured out that it’s better to sleep with people/a person that you don’t mind eating breakfast with in the morning.
You should be able to have a party with friends and relatives present, where the aunties don’t raise their eyebrows at your mates behaviour.
It might be best to have the party at lunch time, and get home by 4.30pm. If you go out in the evening, you might still be home before 10.30pm.
If you don’t wake up til 7am on The Big Day, you might think “Wow, a sleep in”. This would never have happened at 25 would it?
If you’re expecting your kid to play nice through the party, you’ll probably want to give him plenty of outdoors time and attention before hand. Unfortunately this might tucker him out, but not guarantee a decent nap. Grandma may have to take him for A Walk.
Your friends have figured out by now that a good speech makes people laugh, and doesn’t make anyone wish they could pop out to the loo til you’re finished. Your friends may make such a lovely speech that you forget everything you were going to say.
It’s probably a good sign if your friends and relations have given you things that are either drinkable, or stylish, or practical.
No the pumpkin wasn’t a present, but the bubbles were. French bubbles make a very very very nice accompaniment to Sunday night cooking with brand new French cast iron. There are also quite a few more Australian wines in my cupboard than there were last week, and I have homemade bikkies, and flash wine glasses and a gorgeous brooch and pendant. I am very very very spoiled, the grey coat above? Also a present.
Finally, if you leave the house headed for your party with your camera in your handbag (congratulating yourself for remembering to bring it) don’t be surprised if you still forget to actually take photos. You wont be the first person. At least one person has done this recently on her birthday.