I fought my way through the overgrown, burr-filled wasteland that is the side of my house on Saturday to hang the washing out. As I stepped over the enormous tomato plant that has miraculously emerged from a crack in the wall and is fruiting all over the concrete, I discovered a roof tile smashed on the ground.
Ah, that would explain how the possums have gained entrance to my roof cavity, where they noisily rut at around 5am in the morning. And also why there’s a watermark growing on my bedroom ceiling.
I’ve never had to fix a roof before … who you gonna call?
DD reckons a roof tiler. Well der. I just didn’t think they’d come out for one tile. Gawd, can’t wait to hear how freaking much that will cost. And I suppose I’d better weed before they arrive to stave off the shame. Sigh.
It was a quirky weekend all round. I sipped a convivial cuppa with my ex outside the Sydney Conservatorium of Music on Saturday morning while the crook youngest did her first-ever saxophone exam.
Poor petal. She was very snotty as she trailed off with the accompaniest.
It was a little startling to get the accompaniest’s $90 bill afterwards …
It was also a little startling for my ex when he suggested the cuppa and I announced: “Goodie! I have so many questions for you!”
Fortunately for him the questions were mainly about what to get the eldest for her birthday and school holiday plans.
We were jibbering jabbering away madly – only halfway through my questions – when the youngest appeared with her Rolls Royce accompaniest. We immediately turned to her for a rapid fire discussion of how things went.
When the accompaniest finally escaped with her king’s ransom, the youngest admonished us both for “always talking too much.”
Little curmudgeon. I love that she has no concept of how awful and awkward it would be if we didn’t speak to each other.
She was a bit neggers about how the exam went and reckons she totally bombed out on her scales. But she was also quite buzzed by the experience and had the biggest grin on her sickly face.
I hefted her enormous tenor saxophone back to the car and took her home to spend the rest of the day coughing up a lung in bed.
On Saturday afternoon, the eldest grudgingly agreed to let me drop her to a sleepover party and was horrified when I insisted on going inside to meet the parents.
It meant I also got to meet the eldest’s friends for the first time. It was so exciting to confirm they weren’t imaginary.
To celebrate I bought myself a box of these at the supermarket …
Being sans the dour, black-clad teen meant the youngest and I got to watch the Emma Watson version of Beauty & The Beast on Saturday night. I don’t know what it says about me but I thought the Beast was waaaay spunkier when he was furry with horns. He was so unremarkable when he became a pretty blonde boy.
Sunday morning dawned at the ungodly time of 5.22am, not as a result of rutting possums but because my overactive brain shook me to consciousness with a single, horrifying word: “Christmas!”
I freaked out because I suddenly realised I am totally unprepared for Christmas and it’s NEXT month. I am usually the person who is ready for Christmas by August, but somehow it got away from me and I hadn’t bought a single gift yet and arrerrrrghhhhhh how will I get it done in time and what will I buy for people and a bit more arrrregghhhhing.
And that was me done sleeping for the night.
It may have lead me to make some rather questionable impulse purchases during a flying visit to TJ Maxx … and getting Christmas crackers and one tonne of Christmas themed chocolates at Woolworths … on November 12.
I also finally managed to find the youngest a nice pair of shoes to wear to her year 6 graduation. It has been a loooooong time since I went nice shoe shopping. I usually wear sneakers and whatever happens to be at Seed – as its a few doors down from Woolies – these days.
It was startling to discover that all the shoes are hideous. We went to shoe shop after shoe shop after shoe shop. All she wanted was something a bit feminine and shimmery, but not completely covered in diamanties. No dice. I am not surprised retail is in such dire straits when all the footwear looks like what the youngest would call “grandma shoes”, with the alternative being what I would call “mardi gras” shoes.
I also realised I’ve lost the taste for shopping – all those crowds and queues and things I can’t afford. I’m not looking forward to the Christmas pressie procurement palaver.
I dropped the youngest to tumbling afterwards, gave the bathroom a rough clean, then headed to a Malaysian friend’s house for dinner – homemade chicken curry, yuuuuuuum.
And that was my weekend, how was yours?
PS No blog tmw as I’m going to a cocktail making competition tonight and may be up til all hours. I’ll give you the lowdown on Wednesday.
Song of the day: Chic “Le Freak”
housegoeshome 
Leave a comment