Days like this

Buckle up, it’s been a crazy few days.

Where do I start?

Friday was the dizzy limit. I needed to get soooooo much done before an early afternoon flight to Melbourne for DD’s work Christmas party.

I was frantically tapping away when I noticed Bilbo was acting strangely.

I check him and my heart sank. I was 90% sure he was about to … there’s no nice way to say this … blow an anal gland.

It’s happened twice before and his skin literally explodes, creating a nasty exit wound.

Friday was not the day for Bilbo to be having a medical emergency, but I raced him to the vet, hoping my quick action could save the situation.

However, after the vet donned surgical gloves, slathered on the KJ and shocked the daylights out of Bilbo with an anal probe, she said he would need to stay there for a few hours to have it lanced.

I didn’t have a few hours. I dashed home to continue working and hunt for someone to collect him.

My nephew agreed to pick him up after he finished work and I called the vet to let them know and give them my credit card details.

As I was reciting the numbers the door buzzer rang. It was a courier, I fumbled with my mobile phone, credit card and buzzer and shoved something inside the door as I popped onto the landing to make sure the package was there … and the door slammed behind me.

Nooooooooooooo!

The eldest was at work and I hadn’t put the spare key back in its hiding place since a handyman had used it.

I was locked out, with a weekly newsletter to send for work and a million and one last-minute things to do.

I called DD. I cried. He said he’d be there in 45 minutes with a spare key.

Waaaaaaahhhhhh.

I started texting workmates to beg for help with unfinished tasks.

Finally DD arrived and I raced upstairs to fling final bits and bobs into my suitcase, pack my laptop for any work emergencies and dashed downstairs for our flight to Melbourne.

We were running a teensy bit late at that point and found ourselves in a traffic jam, so I started panicking about missing our flight.

As we exited the harbour tunnel Qantas texted to say our flight was delayed. Good news in terms of not missing our flight, but bad news in terms of being late to the Christmas party.

Anyways, Bilbo was collected and returned home looking very sad in a cone, we got to the Christmas party 45 minutes late but fortunately before everyone sat down to dinner.

Dinner was at a Melbourne institution called Grossi. Every time we mentioned to a local that we were going there, they went “ooooh, fancy!”

We had duck tortellini with pear and duck sugo, beef cheek with polenta and pumpkin, chocolate souffle and an ungodly among of Chianti.

I had lots of fun bonding with DD’s co-workers and regaling them with tales of exploding anal glands and my various celebrity encounters.

We were the first to leave at 11pm, but I was knackered from a late night on Thursday due to a Crowded House concert. We crashed in bed and I slept until the unheard of time of 8.30am.

We caffeinated and laid around reading the papers until it was time to catch a train to Kew to meet up with our New Zealand cruise friends Derek and Aileen. You may vaguely recall that Aileen represented Australia in figure skating at the 1964 Olympics.

We chose from the seniors’ specials list at the pub – over 60s could choose a beer or wine with a meal for $20 bucks. DD qualified and did the ordering … that’s him at the bar between the beer glasses …

Bargain!

Sadly we forgot to take a selfie so you’ll just have to use your imagination, but it was lovely to catch up with them.

Then it was back on the tram to the city to grab DD a polo shirt from H&M then get ready to meet my ex brother and sister in law for drinks at a cool bar called 1806.

When the lift doors in our hotel opened I was surprised to see Santa standing inside.

There’s something about Santa that brings out the childlike awe in me, so I gushed with completely sincere joy,”Hi Santa!!!!!”

I was too shy to ask for a selfie, as Santa was off to do important Christmas business, so you’ll have to make do with the pic of him striding off up Collins Street.

My brother and sister in law had gone to a cocktail making course upstairs at 1806 and promised to come down with their final creation to join us. While we waited I ordered a theatrical concoction with butterfly pea flower syrup.