It’s been a “taking one for the team” kinda week for my sister and I.
She looked totally wrecked as we sat in her spa on Saturday night drinking Snow Road Sparkling. She put in two VERY long days (unexpectedly) moving my parents out of their old house and into their new apartment.
They’d forgotten they are in their mid-70s and not quite as dynamic as they used to be. They hadn’t even hired an exit cleaner for the old place. Dad was going to do it himself, despite being barely mobile while waiting for the stents from his heart surgery to heal so he can have leg surgery.
My parents didn’t emergency call me about the situation because my sister has been elevated to good-in-a-crisis status following my dad’s heart attack.
They just sent a decluttered Snuggie down to Sydney for me … bless …
Oh, and a Dyson vaccuum cleaner!
I took dinner over to my sister’s house on Saturday night to thank her. Pulled lamb pasta with creamy mint pesto.
As for my own taking-one-for-the-team exploits, I spent about five hours at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music watching the eldest play the trumpet in her high school’s senior woodwind ensemble and jazz ensemble. I think my ex was weekend awaying with his squeeze, but I’m not sure because we don’t mention his squeeze if we can possibly avoid it (though the youngest has been cheerily telling me how much the squeeze likes finger buns and how awesome she is at pairing socks … I am very bad at pairing socks and ambivalent about finger buns).
The ensembles were performing as part of NSW School Band Festival. The SWE won a gold medal! I wasn’t surprised because they were AWESOME. Their third piece gave me chills it was so good. It had spoken voice in it and everything.
I startled some other band parents by telling them how glad I was that the SWE weren’t in the “Percy Grainger” section of the competition – each section is named after a famous composer – because whenever I think of Percy Grainger I see a naked Richard Roxborough flagellating himself.
Richard played Percy in a movie called Passion, which I had the misfortune to see while reviewing movies for Cosmopolitan magazine waaaaay back in 1999.
Fortunately I’d forgotten the finer details of Percy’s love of the whip, as I think I raised enough eyebrows with that little remark.
However, a quick Google afterwards revealed Percy was quite fond of flogging himself, but even more thrilled by whipping his lovers and eventually his wife Ella.
In one of his letters, Grainger wrote:
“I am a sadist and a flagellant — my highest sexual delight is to whip a beloved woman’s body.
“Her screams, her struggles to evade the whip, the marks of the whip arising on her body, all give me a feeling of male power and exultation that swells my love and devotion towards my sweetheart a hundredfold and makes out love-life more intense and impulsive.
“To a lesser degree I enjoy being whipped myself (and before marriage used to whip myself every few weeks), because the smart of the whip on myself brings home to me the reality of the sex-cruelty I long to practice on my sweetheart.”
Hmmmm. I hope I haven’t ruined Rake for myself now.
Anyways … the band wasn’t in the Percy section. Phew.
Afterwards, I took the eldest for a haircut. She’s not very good at articulating her feelings/needs and she only told the hairdresser she didn’t like the cut after they’d been meticulously snipping for 90 minutes. So I said she’d have to live with it for a month and then I’d take her back for another one.
But I have not heard the end of how much she hates it, so I’ve agreed she can use her own money to go to a local barber next week and get an all-over No.5.
THAT should be interesting … I can’t wait to see the look on the teacher’s face who’s been on her case to get her hair cut … be careful what you wish for …
My other taking-it-for-the-team moment came when I found myself shivering outside my house at 6am on Sunday morning, waiting for DD.
I must have a screw loose because I offered to drive him to the airport – he’s gone to Korea and Japan for the week for work. It costs him about $150 to get a cab each way, whereas if he drives down from his place and grabs me on the way, I can drive the car back to my place for him to collect on his way home again and he saves a bomb.
And since we have so little time together these days, it’s 30 minutes of companionship we wouldn’t otherwise get.
But geez I was shattered for the rest of the day. It didn’t help that I’d woken up at 4.30am in a panic because I always worry the alarm won’t go off. DD sensibly asked if the alarm has ever not gone off … no … but that’s beside the point … he really doesn’t understand my wacky brain.
He was feeling pretty shattered himself by the time he finally got to his hotel 18 hours after leaving home. Poor DD.
We’re all getting old, dammit.
How was your weekend?
Here are some pics from mine:
Song of the day: The Jazz ensemble played Van Morrison’s “Moondance”. Always fabulous.