noun, two words. or one. depends on what you like.

chicken pot pie reheated at 1am. with a green leafy salad. and a lovely glass of milk.

he had just brushed his stubbly chin across my belly. the sweet bliss of pleasures yet to be had were right there for the taking. ..

you know the feeling, you squeeze your eyes tighly closed, grab the pillow, roll over quickly in the vain hope that you might just somehow slip back into that delicious dream.


but no.

it is not to be.

why? because of the two little people who have invaded your space because THEY can not sleep, and they miss him, sadly not the bloke in the dream, but the one whom donated genetics.

uh-humm.

jet lag -noun a temporary disruption of the body's normal biological rhythms after high-speed air travel through several time zones.

Wicked, but not mean really.

Mobile phones are lovely, fun and lately necessary things.

For years I fought getting one. However, I have acclimated quite well to the nuisance.

In OZ. I paid a fee. I texted and rang to my merry delight. Texting more than ringing, b/c it was quick and somewhat removed and clever.

In TX. I pay a fee. And the service providers charge and roam and this bit and that bit and times and what not and so I pay more and I don't text at all because no one I know over here does. Slightly less fun.

So I have this new little flippy phone. They gave me the number when I signed up for the service. Actually, Arti - phone service guy, he let me pick which number I wanted out of a list of 30 which he read off to me from his little screen. Ok so maybe it was only a choice of 10, but it sounded like 30 when each number has 10 digits to it. All I could think is I want the one that'll be easy for the kids to remember. No one else remembers numbers anymore they just program them into their phones and direct dial. I am guilty of that one as well, although I retain some numbers in my head forever. Some are important to my heart and others like the number for Pizza Hut in Australia are just stuck there, when I am quite aged and my red hair has turned gray and fallen out I am pretty sure I'll still be able to sing 3892 1111 with the catchy little diddy.

I picked my number. It is easy to recall.

It is remarkabley close to a local taxi service number in the town in which I live now. This fact is now etched into my mind. Never do I get the call for a taxi ride in the afternoon. Or morning. Or evening even. Always the phone rings at a hideous hour, usually shortly after I have managed to fall asleep.

1 somethingish am. I let it ring out. They rang back twice. The third time I answered. Now I am not sure if it was the late hour, my irritability, or sense of humour that caused me to do it. He said they needed a ride, from Northgate. I agreed in my funky australian texan accent. "right-o, no problem." I asked had they had a lovely evening, enjoyed the game, had a fun night out on the town? Yada-yada. Told him I'd be right on that run.

I hung up and went straight on back to bed.

I am sure he'd be fine, I could hear the giggling in the background, at least he had company while he waited for his taxi.

Only slightly wicked.

blur

It started with trunk or treat and ended with the celebration dinner of an undefeated season 7 days later.

Trunk or Treat. A parking lot filled with cars all parked boot in. Their are games in to be played in the boot. Play the game, collect a lollie. Walk on with a smile. Also brought in for a special treat, an inflated wrestling ring with helmets and a bar with two overinflated marshmallow looking bobbies on the end. To boys of all ages this was the place you go with your mate to see if you can bash the crude out of him - in a friendly way. Not really, the testosterone got going and they just wap each other until they had fallen completely over four times, then they had to trade. All fun though, most hopped out of the ring smiling.

Monday - work, work and more work, then decorating for Halloween.

Tuesday - Halloween carnival for the littlest school, Montessouri is the way to learn. They had a half day of games, lollies, and running amuke in the school playground. I watched littlies hunt and paint mini pumpkins. I encouraged the paint smock. Spin it red haired mumma. "You'll get your pretty little fairy costume dirty" "You don't want orange paint on spideyman now do you?" yada yada yada. The end of the Halloween festival was a treat. Time to take down all the sticky spiderwebby polyester I'd strung between trees and doorways, find those pumpkins that were stuck just a little too deep, and gracefully try and organize the drippy painted pumpkins.

Wednesday - I am the mother of a 12 year old. It is not possible. But real. I am too thin and too young to have a kid this size. He got a football, the pigskin variety and music lots of music and a skateboard. I need to update the health insurance.

Thursday - Braces. She now looks like she's 12 and she is only 8. I am counting down until they come off. And they are not on my teeth. She does not complain, she is a trooper. Food is going to be interesting.

Friday - The Birthday dinner out. Mexican food. Friends who give the boy a jumper from Texas A&M Uni. He did not take it off for almost a week, and then only whent he temperature rose to 30 degrees Celcius. All the kids compliment how fun the friends are who went to dinner with us. In particular the bloke. I am estatic inside - they are healing and do not believe that all men are cult vermin - we will prevail, we are the best of both hemispheres, Texan and Australian.

Saturday - soccer, soccer, soccer. 4 wins. Everybody happy.

Sunday - Adult old people have a undefeated season. Calls for Margaritas and Mexican food and a photo. All fun except that last bit. I stopped many a man from scoring any goals. So fun, I love to watch their faces fall.

I think I might have a wee bit to go before I heal all the way.

Life Expectancy.

Halloween pumpkins are great.

We slopped off to the pumpkin patch on a frigid day and prowled through the vast array of pumpkins to pick our treasures, one for each of us. Plus a variety of little pumpkins because for starters they are very petite precious little things and we are embracing our first Halloween with vigor.

We acquired pumpkin carving tools, last week soccer training got called due to torrential downpours, having excess energy and stamina, we decided to CARVE. Artists look out. Newbies have arrived.

Pumpkin carving is not a clean sport. In other households it is probably not a sport at all. In ours it is. Seeds flew. Preferably towards the scrap bucket but not necessarily so, the odd seed accidentally flicked at siblings and children. I am not sure how that happened but no one put an eye out so it's alright. We scraped out innerds and scooped out, the hand works best, not so fabulous if you have a strong gag reflex though. People with a strong gag relfex sometimes turn green when scoooping out their pumpkin. People who look green usually feel green inside and it is best to keep your distance, and politely suggest greeny go and lie down until it passes.

We ended the evening with four beauties.

Two happy go lucky and two cheeky bordering on scary. We are not a scary lot so we didn't make it too far that way. One had hands, several had eyebrows, all had smiles of sorts.

Pumpkins are very pleasing to look at when carved.

Not so pleasing after 6 days of erractic weather though. Furry mold abounding with soft pliable sides our little pumpkins were relegated to the bin, no matter how lovely and fun they were nearly a week ago, the tiem has come. We'll carve a big monster this afternoon so that we have one for the big day, the cutie pies they had to go.

Fall Family Fun Night

Eye opening.

The kids are between 10 and 14 years old, they are in grades 5 and 6.

We arrive, my son runs off for a quick play of handball only they call it four square here before we go into the classroom activities. He joins up with two of his mates from school, they are nice boys even if they all troop through the rooms on a warpath. They joke with the teachers they like and avoid those that are not their favourites. I see the ativities they do gleefully, they are only 11, still only children really, just stuck in bodies that are big.

I stand back and watch, he makes eyes at the girl he likes, doesn't talk to her just smiles. Innocent and young. It is sweet and gives me no pause.

Just as we decide to depart for home and dinner he introduces me to another mate, one he has not run the halls with this evening, but one he is nice to during the day, he is nice to everybody it is not unusual, he always has been kind-hearted. During the first couple of weeks of school he mentioned this boy. Mum he would say, you know A he's BIG. And BIG he is. We talked then about how lots of people here are alot bigger, heavier than what we have seen regularly back in OZ, and BIG might be an ok non-judgemental way to describe it. So a few weeks ago my son tells me he thinks his friend A might have been held back once or maybe twice, he wasn't sure, but he's BIG mum. Tonight it is clear to me what he meant. The boy is a boy no more. I am not certain how many times he was held back, it is more than once, that does not matter, he is quite possibly close to 15 yrs old. I have no issues with that at all, I hope the learning comes easier as time goes on for him. I am all for children learning and getting a good education however it needs to happen.

It gives me pause when my son introduces me to you though and as you shake my hand you cut your eyes away. The pain that is there is obvious. I hope that my child can be an encouragement without being sucked into making unwise choices. I am reminded that we have been through quite a bit of crap in the last several years, but we must be doing something right, my son treats those around him with fun and friendship, it can't be too bad.
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Marley & Me is a great little nugget of a book.

I am currently without something to read.
Bills do not count. Something to read just for fun is necessary.

I must get onto that.

Picking up a little bit of ugly.

So yesterday I picked up my youngest and headed to the orthodontist.

I have never taken a class in dental anatomy, however, I am fairly certain that I could have found an itty bitty piece of plastic and stuffed it between her last two molars. I might have even been able to come up with some royal blue plastic to stuff in there. I didn't though.

And lucky because then I would have robbed said child of the chance to perform the human Pez dispenser trick, you know the flip top head?
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We went shoe shopping, well because that is what sunny Tuesday afternoons were made for and I am bringing my baby up right. I rang my mum on the way to check on a couple flight coupons she is picking up for me, we chatted, it was nice, she's working but happy with that. Finished the call, we went into the shop, we hunted, tried on funny shoes, pretty shoes, practical shoes and enormously high heels, a girl has to learn just how it is done.

Halfway up the athletic shoe aisle my phone rang.

It was mum. And went something like this...

mum hi honey!
(cheery voice I have come to recognize over the years as signalling a bomb alert)
me hi mum.

mum well I haven't told you yet, because I know you don't approve of what I do sometimes ...

me mum you are a grownup and make your own choices, my not necessarily making the same choice as you is not judgement on what you do or don't do it is just us being different

mum so I told your sister already, so I need to tell you too. look I want you to know I that I have met somebody, his name is Phil, Phillip, Phil, and he's really nice and he treats me like a princess, and he is really sweet and he's retired and 10yrs older than me. So he doesn't work anymore.

(this is the bit where I am thinking that suddenly my mum has morphed into a teenager again)

me that's nice mum, I am glad you are happy, thanks for telling me.

mum we think we might come up and visit this week...

We talked for a bit longer, she revisited the retired bit, and how lovely he is to her, told me where he lives, etc. I thanked her again for telling me.

Now I am a glass half full kind of girl. I prefer to look at the positives. I am positive that at present my mum is very happy. She is very happy to merrily give her heart away. I understand, it's cold outside, it is nice to have someone to cuddle up to and chat with about life and all. I just think that it might be a good idea to maybe step back and not approach dating at mach speed, where you end up with his and her towels, and your heart broken after just a little bit. I hope he is nice and sweet and kind and fun. I wish for the best. I will listen as my mum twitters like a 14 yr old about how great every thing is, and if it works for the long run - fabulous, and if not I pick up the pieces again as the drama unfolds if another man breaks her heart. At least this time I am in the right hemisphere. There's a glass half full for you.

The shoe shop sells ugly. They are clogs with holes in them made out of foam. They are tangerine orange. I bought them so I can photograph her and bring the picture out at her 21st. Crocs. yippie.

Rings just don't shine.

Nice weekend.

COLD weather. This morning it was nine degrees C. Brrr. And blowing a gale. I know because our handy little inside/outside thermometre told me so. Thank you maroonedinaustin. So I added a jumper as I walked out the door to soccer. I should have added thermal underwear, a beanie, gloves, and those handwarmer thingys you get when you're skiing. Safe to say while my speech acclimated to australian life so too did my internal thermometre. Popsicle girl observes soccer match. Shaking like a leaf has new meaning for me. And I now long for an espresso machine with verve.

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He said I was hot.

He meant it as a compliment. It was not one. Not that I have issues about how I look. I don't. I'm firm where I need to be and soft where I should be. I don't have extra weight hanging out, any that I had vacated during the divorce. I don't think I am hot, but I am damn sure not bad. When a married guy tells you that though, not good. I am offended on so many levels. Not the least of which is I just don't go there, you are married, hit the road jack, I will not even respond to your quasicompliment. The next time I see you though, should you make the same type of comments again, I hope you are ready, you'll be that little bug that unfortunately flew in front of the windshield when the car was going 80mph.

And I will still be hot very far away from you.

Silence in the car.

We saw this sign on the way to one of the three schools I drop my kids at. We sat silent. Not my favourite thing about America.

Just bites.

you wake up. well rested.

ever so pleasant.

for two seconds, then it is like that poor unfortunate cat who fell in vast sums of water. Leaping, diagruntled, disturbed and definately pissed away from the offending substance.

oversleeping. grr.

Perspective.

Really very few things tick me off. Unfortunately this week I have run into several right smack in a row.

For starters any government run offices are hard wired to be difficult. It is in there nature. It is how they make extra money for the politicians to eat lunch on. I have discovered in my great home state that I might well have to remove and disect my fourth rib in order to get my drivers license. You have to appear in person at the local DPS office stand in the laneway for an inordinate amount of time before you get to speak with the woman who could quite possibly be entombed as a relic of days gone by. Yes folks the 80's are far far behind us, however, here we have a finely preserved specimin from that era. She sports 'helmet hair' and blue eye shadow, tornados might very well come through this area occassionally, but that hair it is not going to budge. Her demeanor is a beauty. I am not sure if the DPS sent her to special training days or if that is her natural inclination, she is not helpful and certainly has no time for those not born and raised here. The poor little asian lady in front of me in, she made her cry. So I think I might have been predisposed to dislike her, that is just not kosher. Asians are lovely, and the food they've brought to this great state is less likely to cause you to become so engorged as to resemble a beached walrus. With helmet hair.

The second is more a personal issue. A lady who child is my age. I have known her a long time. We are not close. At one time I valued her input. That time is now gone. In her opinion it is unwise for me to ever remarry, you know because my situation was different, and I had children, she says with a snarl to her lip that looks as if she has just spotted a dog dropping on her persian rug. I don't desire to remarry today or tomorrow or next week. And the idea of being legally bound is enough to cause me to eye that rum bottle with a pirates lusty longing. But you know having someone tell me I should not makes me want to run out on a mad flurry of dates. Until she has walked around in my bare feet I am certain she can keep those little undesirables to herself.

Third. And last at least for today. Would it kill people to not waste so much damn stuff. Why people, and mostly I am only seeing Americans at present, so why Americans NEED ever so very much stuff. Plastic water bottles by the slab, half drunk and then tossed. Eight million gallons of fizzy drink in their bottles or worse cans. Food enough for small immigrant armies in foreign third world countries, tossed out because Americans can't eat that much but they have a bloody right to be served that much food for $7.95 and more and more and more. No wonder a huge chunk of the population are enourmous, they eat all that food and then sit round on their bums contimplating all their 'rights'. Ick. Self-absorbtion ticks me off.

I said it was the last one, but really it wasn't. People who wear bras that are tooo small!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For everybody elses sake, please get some proper fitting gear, those girls hanging out everywhere, nobody wants to see that.

A little too much non-drowsy ...

1:31 am awake.

1:32 check the kids, maybe that's why I woke up

1:33 look outside into the inky blackness

1:34 trip over a box on my way back to bed

1:35 - 2:02 flopping around waiting for sleep to return

2:03 wash a load of laundry, I'm WIDE awake may as well be productive

2:05 nine hundred channels and nothing to watch.

2:07 Meerkat Watch, it was the best of the options, two episodes and then one of This Old House

3:31 back to bed to sleep

This afternoon will be a challenge of my patience, maybe a nap would be good.

Dreams.

In the build up to a snarky head-throat cold, I have had some doozies.

Worry, stress and fatigue do interesting things to the mind. Not to mention a Sonic size serving of caffiene on a regular basis. For example, Wednesday evening was the one and only appearance of the lifesize sock monkey, he tended to my every whim as we strolled the aisles of H.E.B., tortilla chips, absolutely, 2% milk, right-o, bagel bites, yup. He did no talking, just walked with me and the trolley. Now I don't know where he came from, I have not, as I can recall, seen a sock monkey since I was 4 and never a life size one. Thursday produced icky dreams about moving trucks and bicycles, not with anyone on them, the bikes drove themselves out into the road with out looking and were flattened by the HUGE white truck. Friday seemed somewhat of impending doom. I woke with a start at 3:13 am believing I was escaping from a fire in a white timber two story house. I knew the house was on fire, and yet I went back in to get the dog, a yellow lab. Superheroes always survive, I got out with the dog, and then discovered the house fire was set by the cult people my ex hangs out with. Disturbing but not so much that I didn't go on and have a beautiful day. He ruined enough of my days, he does not get anymore.

After three nights of not so great sleep, my body has finally given in. I woke this morning to 3 soccer matches with four kids, again an extra this time of the girl variety. My waking thought after I realized that aside from the mobile phone ringing somewhere around 2 I slept through the night was that I made it through without any funky dreams. My throat - it screams, my eyes - they scratch, my sinus passages - are full of molten lava.

I have a new chemist bestfriend. My love. Sweet treasure. In six hours and two doses you have made me feel much less deceased. Lovely effervescent health formula in zesty orange. Airborne. Kicking germy butt out of my head cold.

It Should Have Been.

Ok so I bought the new house.

It is fabulous. We moved in, we love it. I have purchased various items of different levels of importance. The trampoline, it's very good for stress relief - really you can not, as an adult, jump on one of those things without laughing, it should be on the bottom level of the food triangle it is so good for you. And beds. and plates and cutlery - the kids they like to eat, shampoo, and conditioner, cat food, a computer, tv, towels.

The FIRST purchase should have been CANDLES and MATCHES to light them with.

We have just come out of the first and hopefully last brown-out, or black-out or whatever they call it. And I can assure you when you arrive home from soccer training with four hungry kids, candles, well they would come in handy. Four kids, I know, I had an extra. It is blacker than anything inside my lovely new home with no lights. The kids had a ball, they bounced on the trampoline, I used the mobile phone to ring to a friend who had electricity, we fed the kids pizza and macaroni, not nutritional but it'll hold them until morning.

We had a beer.

Brown-outs call for one.

Ick.

Three shootings in one week. And people wonder about why guns make us so nervous? Seems fairly straight forward to me.

I ride my bike up the road to meet one of my sons on his way home from school each day. I watch him cross the road with the lollipop lady, and hear him say good afternoon to her, and then we chat all the way home. So today, he waves and smiles, always happy to see me there looking goobey on my bike. He crosses the street, and we turn around to head home. Both of us nearly fall off our bikes. There is a motorbike traffic cop sitting there, and he pointing something. Now our little sheltered Australian minds freaked out. He was only pointing a radar gun at the traffic to see if anybody was speeding in the school zone, but it looked like a gun. He noticed our jump and startled looks and said "It's allll-rIght. It's alll-rIght."

We are sheltered. I am glad. I hope we stay that way. We might have to avoid the tv, where every third ad is for the army or the military of some sort.

Ick.

The Olgas.

Thought I'd give the picture post a go. I like this one. Reminds me of a happy holiday with a dear friend. Everyone should visit the northern territory with a friend. Camp, it's the best way.

Sore Abs, but it's a good thing.

Sometimes you're going through life and you wonder about how things go. Or I wonder. I meet people, we get on, our kids get on, things just seem to work. 2 years ago I made the decision to stay in Texas for a time, for several reasons, in hopes that my nutter husband might snap out of his cult and choose his family, to give our children a chance to cope with American culture/life, to break from the icky pattern my ex and I had gottenourselves into. I could go on and on, I won't, I prefer to be optimistic and move on with life.

Anyway. I stayed. The trade off for the pitiful munber of tears that I shed on the plane ride from Colorado back to Texas, I am not a big crier, the body evidently chooses to release the stress of your husband leaving and going across the ocean in it's own special way. HIVES. So I drank margaritas and cranberry vodkas with my sister and her husband, over time not all in one night. I soaked up the love of my family that had been missing me for years, my dad, my stepmum, my brothers, aunti's and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents too. They were all civil to Nathan should he happen to ring to yell at me about my wickeness, but they heaped the love on me. My family is cool. We're crazy but at least they were polite to him. No more need be said really.

I moved back to the town we lived when we were first married. I had friends there. I met new friends. Specifically track coach family and UPS family. I knew them for the 4 months before the US Federal court and I came to agreement that myself and the children would return to Australia. They emailed, we sent postcards, the kids all talked about one another, Christmas letters were mailed, the friendships survived the distance. Now we're back. The kids go to school together or play soccer together or both.

We headed to dinner tonight. The Potato Shack. Potatoes and ice cream, sums it up. We had our spuds, the kids ate ice cream and we shared history. We laughed like little mindless children without a care in the world. Yes we all have mortgages and phone bills and insurance, yadayada-yada. But we talked and hoo-hawed. The name Beverley will never be the same for me. I hope I never meet her in real life, I am not sure I could contain myself. As it is my abs are painfully sore from so much laughter.

I am glad.

Good friends are fabulous and I left more than a few behind that I miss dearly in Australia, always happy to add to the pool though.

He's bright, he's bored, they're challenged.

The teachers are lovely. One is slightly less lovely than the others and it has nothing to do with appearances. She came to the meeting unprepared, I think this might be a habit.

I was gracious and direct with a bit of sugar to help things along.

The child has straight A's. There are kids that are failing, but not him. Yes he is a bit like the pied-piper of talking, he starts, they follow and then mayhem. I am all for the decrease in talking during class time. I told them, boy and teachers. If the kid completes his work and double checks it and you have not gotten the challenging work out yet, well frankly sounds like a personal problem to me, we are in week seven - crack that challenging work out.

No I have not had him tested. They'd like me to test him. I am not a fan. I get the impression, everybody wants to test their kid. I don't, if he's clever, great, give him more work, make his brain all kind of wrinkled, I don't need to label him in order for the public school system to educate him.

So we both survived the meeting. He was much more subdues this evening, and a little contemplative. That is all I am asking for. He is still a child.
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Things we have learned in our new house.

The neighbours dog has a rubbish gut, she does not like broccoli.

Australian cats are baffled by squirrels. Squirrels will yell at cats regardless of their nationality. No matter how much a cat paws at the window, squirrels will not come over and say hello.

If the dishwasher hose comes disconnected from the rubbish disposal under the sink while the dishwaser is running, there is enough water to mop the entire living areas of the house. This is not the ideal way to mop floors.

Wood laminate floors are very slippy. If you run in your socks and then skid you can make a slide approximately 10-12 ft. Timber doorframes are HARD. If you hit a timber doorframe while performing a slide it is both painful and embarrassing. Hitting a doorframe during a slide does not give you a concussion, but it might feel like one.

Glass jars will break on the concrete floor of the garage even if you are doing a good deed when you drop it.

Burned popcorn does not make the smoke detector go off, toast stuck in the toaster does.

It takes nearly two hours to retrain the electric garage door opener to a new keyless entry remote and a built it car remote. Retraining garage door openers might encourage someone to drink heavily or give them an eye twitch. Or both.

When it is nighttime and all the lights are out, it is good to remember the location of the light you just turned off, NO ambient light filters into the new house.

Cheers.

morning surliness.

what is so difficult about greeting the day?

Wake up, feed the belly - it can't possibly be the honey nut cheerios that are making you crabby, there's nothing in them. Does the task of making your bed so drain you that you no longer have the energy to be kind to those around you or is the cleaning of your teeth that sent you over the edge? Possibly I think it was the gentle reminder that it would be best for YOU in the long run if you were to try and talk slightly less during class each day, even if said class is boooooring. I can remind you for many reasons, the topmost being I know and you do not, just how much you are talking in class each day. For starters, you do not think about it, you are 11, it is not on the radar, it is not shaped like a ball so it does not thrill your mind to ponder it. I have spies, as well as being all knowing with regard to your life, I chat with those whom attend the educational institution with you and tactfully inquire without their knowledge about your behavior. Hey when you are a single mum you have to be clever, I am outnumbered. The other reason for the reminder and the inquiry... I know I have a meeting scheduled for Thursday with your science instructor, at her request. She thinks you talk tooo much. You think she is dull as a fence post out in the middle of the bush, I know and after the parent 'Meet the Teachers' night in the second week of school, I agree with you. So I will meet with the queeniness of dulliness, and you WILL have to chat less in class, and I will have to graciously remind said teacher that Grade 6 science is the year where you start doing really cool experiments and practical learning is much better than Charlie Brown's droning teacher. All will be well.

So wake up, love the new day, it is full of adventures yet had!

At times it makes me crazy.

I whinge about it. They break all the time. It is tired and crabby like a disfunctional teenager, occassionally just deciding on a whim life is just too hard and it willfully, or so it seems, chooses not to function properly. It runs too slow, misplaces important items -never to return them, manipulates important files so that they can never be sent in any format, and periodically just shuts down whether in the middle of something or not.

But really, secretly, I LOVE IT.

My computer. I NEVER ever could have survived an international move without it. Much less two.

Tonight modern technology has once again brought that goofy happy grin to my face. After, yes it has been two months, without our own computer with a broadband connection, we are once again IN THE BUILDING! Woowaw. I feel I should run and pop my pretty heels on just to type. The computer arrived via UPS, the poor cable guy came over yesterday to drop a new line in -yes I want the broadband on that wall- it was less than perfect, he ended up calling two of his mates to come a help him. I like the texturing on the wall, honestly I had no idea it would be so difficult. So he spent a large portion of the 4 hours he was here in the attic. Truely not my fault, no matter which wall I wanted the broadband on, he was going to be in the attic. Cableguy also delivered my cable connection - we now have soccer. Woo-hoo! The boys have watched part of two English Premiership matches today alone, they also attended school and did their homework, chatted online and attended soccer training. So last night I installed the software so we could chat with folks, and then I felt I must test it out and make sure it was working alright - you know just so the kids wouldn't get frustrated when they tried to talk to their mates today. I was testing it out til way on up in the morning ... it was a decent hour in Australia, unfortunately that is not the time zone we're living in, so I was very tired today at work, and at the shops. They say never buy groceries on an empty stomach, I think I might ammend that for our family.... never shop on a tired brain. I think we might just be eating waffles, risotto and fruit for the rest of this week. I have no idea what ended up in the trolley. Jam I think, you can put it with lots of stuff and make a meal right?

So anyway. Technology makes me happy. I am exhausted, however, tonight, due to modern advances, I clicked a button on the msn chat, and talked with my English friend who lives in Australia for free. A little Creative microphone& webcam, Dell's lovely shiny silver speakers that arrived with a woofer (who knew?) And it sounded like we were just right there beside each other. I could close my eyes and pretend we were going for our Friday walk through Toohey forest, and talking over the week's happenings and life and what was thrown at us that week.

Once again I am reminded that while sometimes I whinge and grump and try and give my cranky away over the blasted computer, today it has made me smile a little goofy for quite a little bit.

Why the bloddy trigger trombone?!

Hundreds of years people have been getting by just fine.

But not now.

NOW the collective of band directors in our new'home' town have decided it'd be so much better for students to learn on the trigger trombone. No mentionof the fact that they are more expensive when they tell you that your son makes a lovely sound out of the trombone, ok so they didn't say "lovely" but my still australian ears heard it that way. Everyone else on the planet seems to struggle through learning on the regular old slide trombone. That a poor child should have to slide that brass all the WAY out to hit the proper notes, who knew it could damage them so?

My thoughts.

I never thought I'd be so thankful for Ebay.

I am liking purchasing the trigger trombone for the cost of renting one for 9 months, now if I can just convince the child he only needs to walk down to the creek behind our new house to practice it each day....
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The spending spree continues.

Last Monday I bought a car. Paid in full. Insurance and all.

Last night I bought a desk top computer to go in the house that I bought today.

Tonight I bought two beds to go in the house so we have places to sleep tomorrow night.

We move in on Saturday, I am so excited. I might pop. I can't though, it'd muck up the little creek behind the house. Bites worrying about the environment.
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I pick our cats up from the arctic circle of my mum's house on saturday, hopefully they will thaw out by Halloween.