Knocked back and around

As I suspected, my offer on the apartment was knocked back on Friday. While the real estate agent had implied I was in with a chance, when he called back he said the owner wanted $100,000 more.

Blimey. Thanks, but no thanks.

I wished him luck and got on with my day.

There was literally only one other possibility to inspect on Saturday, so my friends Emily and Fee joined me for a twirl.

The apartment was fabulous. We all agreed it was nicer than the place I missed out on. In fact, it was our favourite so far.

Just one problem … I think it’s probably out of my price range.

The agent sent an email out on Friday announcing it was on the market and saying it was in my price range, but when we got there, my price limit was the base price they were seeking.

Apparently the couple who bought it last year at the top of the market are getting a divorce and want to get back what they paid for it, plus stamp duty and agent fees.

I will be interested to see if they pull that off in a rapidly plummeting market. But there were a few well-heeled older couples checking it out, so maybe they are in with a chance.

After inspecting the apartment I hooned to Marsfield to watch my nephew’s team win their rugby union grand final.

I was very late because Epping Road was totally flooded by a burst water main. The water was literally halfway up people’s car doors in one lane.

I have never watched a rugby union match before and I was a bit bemused by it. It seemed to consist of men building human pyramids to catch balls, piling on top of each other and lovingly cupping each other’s faces with their hands … which I later learned was actually them fighting with open hands so they wouldn’t get sent off the field for punching each other.

One bloke on the other team got so aggro at one point that he tried to single-handed take on about 50 opposition team supporters.

It was very exciting.

We followed it up with celebratory, absolutely enormous spread of yum cha, then went home to digest.

On Sunday, my mum, sister and I collected our godmother, Aunty Barb, and took her for brekkie with a gobsmacking view at the Museum of Contemporary Art.

I must confess that until brekkie my sister and I were not aware that Aunty Barb was our godmother.

We just thought she was one of the gaggle of Mum’s friends who were given honorary aunty titles during our childhood.

Maybe Mum had mentioned we had an actual godmother some point and we’d forgotten.

I forget a lot of things these days. I had to turn around from the self checkout at Coles three times on Saturday and head back into the aisles because I’d missed things on my shopping list.

Anyways, we had a lovely brekkie with our godmother. I thoroughly recommend the MCA as a spot to wow visitors and it’s not too bad on pricing – you can get a bacon and egg roll for $12. Just make sure you are lurking at the entrance when it opens at 10am so you can bolt upstairs for a table, as they don’t take bookings.

Mum and Aunty Barb (pictured main) have been besties since they were kids and were thrilled to see each other again, as COVID-19 messed with them catching up over the last few years – Mum lives in Newie and Aunty Barb lives in Brissie.

Aunty Barb reads my blog every day so she was up to speed on most of my crazy life, but hadn’t heard that the eldest had a forehead stud, shaved his eyebrows off and was wearing totally white contact lenses these days, so that provided a side order of entertainment with her French toast.

There were big hugs and a few tears as everyone parted.

Love you heaps Aunty Barb!

Song of the day: Split Enz “One step ahead”

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