Bouquets and Brickbats

Now this doesn't happen much anymore because I have seriously curtailed my blog reading (and writing) of late; but I happened over to DJ Kirkby's site 'Chez Aspy' (heh heh heh, that cracks me up) via my friend Jill over at Twipply Skwood (btw: congrats on making 'The Guy Who Knows A Song About A Chicken' into an honest man) at the precise moment that she posted THIS. No, click over, really, you have to, it's worth it! (Especially you Unka Dick and Oscar Zed!)

Well, after picking up my jaw and trying desperately to work out what was actually going on in the picture, I realised it was a caption competition, so I threw my natty, nay witty, hat in the ring! Now, I'd love to say that I won outright but awwwwwwwww, WTH, any win is a win right? And it's nice to get a bit of blog love in a time of such miserable blog paucity on my part!

Anyhoo, if you want to read some of the captions people came up with, including the pithy and yet scythingly insightful witticism from moi.....click over to here.

Meanwhile, I am on HOLIDAYS!!!!!!!!! So I am about to start working on my La Jeune Fille summative post, with bonus Kangaroo Island pictures. As per usual at Chez Arizaphale, nothing goes exactly smoothly and there are plenty of stories to tell.




WHICH reminds me!




Remember I told you I was up on the roof cleaning out gutters last week? Well, having found a number of problems, I called Gutter Man and he came a visitin' on Friday. As the two of us were sitting up on the roof, examining straps and ties and flashing and whatever, No2 Son (aka 'The Obnoxious Boarder Whom We Infrequently See and Who Never Contributes Anything to The Household in Any Way Shape or Form') wandered out into the garden and looked up at me.

"Hello," he said bemusedly.

I wondered whether this was a request for information and decided I couldn't be bothered trying to figure it out as I wasn't at work and didn't have to make allowances for any crazies on my own time. Even if he is related. I smiled and waved and he went away.

Later, as we looked at the collapsed gutter on the front of 'his' verandah (the one in front of his bedroom, that's it in the picture on the right) he emerged again.
"What's going on?"
This was more promising, a question I could answer.
"We're just looking at repairing some of the guttering."
"Ah! Well, now is a good time to mention this. I was wondering if you and Dad would mind if I did an extension to this verandah, to create an area out here to entertain my friends and to do my art projects. Don't worry, I'd pay for it myself...I'd get a few mates in to help put it up..."

The loud thud that followed was my jaw hitting my knees. For moments I was rendered speechless; and then, no......I was still speechless. The trouble was there was so many things I would like to have said.

1) Why on earth would I want a jerry built verandah extension on the FRONT of a property we are trying to fix up to sell? Or live in...if we don't sell....

2) Why would I want an art 'workshop' with it's associated cigarettes, beer bottles and unwashed youth congregating out the front of a property etc etc (see above)

3) HE would pay for it? He doesn't even pay board!

4) HE would build it?????? He doesn't even clean out the gutters or put up shelves!!!!

Sometimes I think that boy is living in la la land.

He then proceeded to tell me how paranoid I was about money, based on the fact that I am paranoid about my cooking. These two things are comparable. Apparently.

And on that note I'll leave you to go and take the BA off to the Salt Mines. And I MEAN the salt mines! When she's been doing fries she comes back with it encrusted in her eyebrows :-D

On Tenterhooks vs At Long Last!!!!!

I am DROWNING in work but I have just popped up quickly to report on two important and contrasting events!

1) The BA's interview went...as well as it could have. She feels confident that she gave a good account of herself and was happy with her answers to most questions. We will have to wait until next week to see what the outcome is.

In typical BA style, she was able to eloquently articulate the fact that while she would like to 'win' the scholarship, she isn't really sure if she wants to go to the school.
"It would kind of be like 'Yaaay I did it!' and then 'Oh...now I have to actually GO to the school...." she says.

Very fair I thought.

2) Himself finally got out his SuperDad cape yesterday and marched No2 Son off, kicking and screaming (metaphorically) to our local TAFE (College of Technical and Further Education) where he enrolled him in a last minute Bachelor of Visual Arts and Design. He starts tomorrow. I am not exactly sure how No2 Son feels about this but it certainly is a good course for him. It's varied and practical and will build on his strengths, if he embraces it. He just has to get over his dislike of being told what to do and acknowledge that there are people out there who know more about...oh I dunno....EVERYTHING.... than he does!!

Stay posted!!

Before. VERY DEFINITELY Before.

I think I mentioned that No 2 Son came back to 'clean out' his room?
Exhibit a).




Might I add that I risked life and health to get down on the floor close enough to this filth to take pictures.
And, to be honest, this really doesn't do the extent of the squalor, justice. I was unable to take photos of the bathroom as I was gagging too much to hold the camera still.

Why are teenagers so feral? Why do they not have a 'dirt' radar? I mean, we're not just talking a layer of dust here people!!!!!!

Tomorrow is Crafty Tuesday and I will save the 'after' shots for then. There is still a lot to be done but at least it is now clean. Ugh.

Weekly Wrap as Another One gets Going

I think I will borrow an idea from the very lovely Brittany over at
Mommee and Her Boys today (get well soon B), and have a 'Weekly Wrap'. There has been lots happening but not much time to put together polished blog posts.
So:

Monday: celebrating the purchase of my new toy to replace my beloved ipod. OK it doesn't have shuffle or playlists, no LED readout so I have to remember the titles of songs myself and it is only 1GB but it is very cute don't you think? I got it at the airport whilst waiting for the Baby Angel to arrive back from Sydney after Father's Day. At $55.00 (with tax) and with volume and fast forward controls on the ears....how could I resist?

Tuesday:
Another frustrating day in the salt mines.

Wednesday: Yet more frustration in the salt mines. Yr 9 in particular are doing my head in.
In the evening I attended a lovely Baby Shower for our friends Rachel and Paul who are expecting in 3 weeks. All the girls were given a dummy(pacifier) on a ribbon as we entered and told that the forbidden word was 'baby'. If we heard anyone say it we could take off our 'necklace' and give it to them. Conversely, if you said it and anyone heard, you could end up wearing a bunch yourself. I think I had 6 on at one point!! On a positive note I won two contests. The first was naming the 'baby' animals. Did you know that a baby alpaca is called a 'cira'? Neither did I, nevertheless I still topped the game with 14/18 and won a nice bottle of bubbly. The next game was a series of scrambled words around children and childbirth. I managed to unscramble them first and again got the highest score. Another bottle of bubbly!!!! Oh boy. Actually I felt a bit bad at getting two so I 'auctioned off' the second one by asking a tie breaker trivia question: what is the gap where the baby's skull has yet to knit together called? Any idea? Yes! The fontanelle. You may have a bottle of bubbly :-)

When I got home, apart from my outpouring of baby nostalgia, I had to do a voice over for Himself. Some government promo DVD for a new Indigenous Festival. My gravelly, emotion ridden voice must have gone down a treat because they've totally rewritten the script to make it longer and more emotional and I have to do the whole thing again :-( On the positive side, I get paid for it!!! On the negative side, I seem to have acquired a case of spring hayfever complete with ropey throat and blocked sinuses. Perhaps it will make me sound even more sincere.

Thursday: an horrendous day in the trenches. I was forced to go and vent my anger and frustration to the Deputy Principal after the Year 9 lesson. I vented so much that he was forced to go home sick afterwards. :-) There are some days you just shouldn't get out of bed.

When I got home I took the BA to pieces for having 'no homework' AGAIN and nothing written in her diary. >:-( Is it not bad enough that I have to chase kids at school without having to come home and start all over again. As she retired to her room, slamming the door behind her and I collapsed onto the couch near desperation at my inability to acquit myself successfully in any area of my life, Himself rang to say he was at the Small Boy's football presentation night and was bringing him home for a sleep-over as he had a 'Show Day' (more about those later) on the Friday. At this point I seriously considered leaving home.

Fortunately, when I went through to tell the BA I was considering de-camping for the night, she was overcome with remorse and admitted that she needed to work harder and stop slacking off and threw her arms around me and told me she loved me and suddenly, I could cope with everything again. I put away the car keys and started dealing with life again.


Friday: The BA and the Small Boy both had a Show Day. These are pupil free days given by the schools to provide kids with a chance to go to the Royal Show. Those of you who have read The Flaming Sword for a year may remember how much Himself loves this
annual family event; so much so that he decided to give it a miss this year. To tell the truth we were all probably relieved that we wouldn't have to grit our teeth through his 'losing it' in; the car park, the showbags hall, the food court and the car park again on the way home. Small Boy went with his Mum and the Baby Angel went with a school friend with plans for me to meet her there after school.


In the meantime, Friday was the day of the Great Year 8 Ice Rink Excursion.
I got to go with them hooray hooray. I LOVE ice skating. I'm not particularly good but every time I go I come away wanting to take lessons. This is the BA and I several years ago in the UK doing one of our fave things which is skating in the open air! No chance of that here in Adelaide. (photo by my beloved Unka Dick)

Nevertheless, one of the two ice rinks in our fair town is but a block away from school, a fact which has hitherto escaped my notice. I mean, I knew where it was, I just hadn't put together how close it was and how easily I could get there oh, say...after work!!!

But I digress. The Y8 excursion was met with great excitement and as we walked all 80 of them down the road to the rink there were many inquiries as to whether I could skate. Here at last was a chance for me to gain some street cred, something sadly lacking for those of us who are over 30 and maths teachers!

And gain it I did!!!! One of the coolest boys in Year 8 asked me to ice dance with him!!!! Well, at least to skate around the rink in a ballroom hold to the squeals of delight from other students. I am so easily pleased nowadays. The only downers of the day were the fact that the canteen was not opened in time for lunch and we had hordes of ravenous teenagers ready to gnaw the blade off an ice skate in hunger. A couple of the other teachers left in search of a shop which might be able to whip something up quickly for the mob as those of us remaining toyed with calling for pizzas. Turns out there was a strip club style hotel on the next corner and our two intrepid teachers braved the bar and ordered $100.00 worth of fish and chips 'to go'!!! Let me see, hordes or hungry teenagers or a strip club? I'd go with the strip club any day!!

The only other event to mar the otherwise delightful afternoon was the all out, full on, tooth and fist brawl which unfortunately broke out on the ice between two young, testosterone ridden lads vying for social supremacy. It had apparently been building at school during the week with much bravado and threats and, in the environment of the rink where both lads were pretty impressive skaters, they had been bumping each other, cutting each other off and the like until one of them took it too far, slammed the other into the wall and punched him as he went down. Well, it was on for young and old. It took two of us to hold the smaller one back. He was beside himself. The air was afire with the language, much of it involving how 'dead' the other one was now. Phew.
The cocky 'winner' was hauled off by the male teacher and I was left the calm and console the injured party with the anger management issues.

Nevertheless, once they had been escorted (separately) back to school to meet with the Deputy, the afternoon proceeded with minimum fuss. I was even beginning to master the art of the transition between skating forwards and backwards! I think the BA and I will be back for a skate soon.

After school it was off to the Show where I met a very excited Baby Angel who was waiting for me to accompany her on The Big Dipper, for the fourth time! I made her work for it though. She had to accompany me through the gadgets hall where we had our hands exfoliated, sat on massage chairs, tried out exercise machines and finally had the pleasure of watching an electric steam mop demonstration. I really lusted after that steam mop. I couldn't afford it though so I booked a 'Show Special' Chemdry carpet clean at the next booth instead. The BA says I have reached a new low in lameness.

Finally I could put it off no longer. We queued for 'The Big Dipper'.
This (see right) is a similar device and as you can see, you get to go upside down which was actually not the worst part! I think the worst parts were the low tight turns where you were thrown over on your side. I am still trying to decide whether the crick I am currently suffering in my neck was a result of holding back the furious Yr8 boy, sleeping badly last night, or the Big Dipper. I am getting old.

To counteract the excitement we watched the dog obedience display before packing into the arena for the looney idiot boys on motocross bikes throwing their legs in the air at 80mph whilst clearing a jump. For God's sake! What is wrong with these people????? Why leave a perfectly safe ground? The fireworks were soothing in comparison.

Saturday: Great excitement as we attended the birthday of Boy Z (not a baby anymore) at the home of A Free Man and the lovely Dr O'C. Now, I cannot say why, and the BA agrees with me, but Baby Z is the only baby in the world who does not love me! In fact, he bursts into tears whenever he sees me. All I have to do is smile and say 'Hi Z' and his face crumples. Is it the glasses? I have started taking them off when I am around him. It is beginning to give me a complex.

Nevertheless, we had a wonderful time meeting some delightful people and feasting on sensational BBQ and a rather dubious duck cake.
Well, it was probably not that dubious until it fell over in the car on the way back from the shop, and until Dr O'C, in deference to a request from a cousin, cut its face off. Mind you, it didn't alter the taste as evidenced by my two large pieces....mmmmmmmm.

I did manage to get a couple of nice shots of Boy Z 'opening' his presents....with a zoom lens so I wasn't close enough to provoke the inevitable hysteria. I blame the balloon that unfortunately burst just as I picked him up. I will be forever connected with that loud unpleasant noise. The BA however seems to be a big fave with him. Humph. I intend to resort to bribery.

So that was our week. Tonight I am writing reports (See me write. Write arizaphale, write.) and we have finally had a visit from No 2 Son. He spent the afternoon clearing out his room and packing everything into boxes. Looks like we may get that guest room after all.

After an initially awkward period we managed to speak to each other quite cordially although there was no discussion as to the nature of the rift or anything of any depth. It just didn't seem to be the right time. Who am I kidding, it will never be the right time.

Have a lovely week everyone.

image credit: big dipper

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

Life goes on.Yes, it is true. They are in the same room, they are both eating from their own bowls and at this point....no one is hissing at anyone else. Unlike the human members of our family.

And lest you think this is a 'fluke'

Mind you Pippin has a slightly nervous, watchful look going on there..

Family melodrama aside, this weekend the BA played her last netball match before the finals. The last time we played at this venue, Morialta Falls, the liquid factor was in full flight. Here's the photo from before the match, 2006. Check out the excitement at playing 60 minutes + in the pouring rain!!

Now, same location, two years later. Exactly the same weather.This cracks me up so much! Look how much she's grown. Not just in size but in ability to deal with the everyday crud of life. She is so awesome.

For the record, unlike 2006, the rain held off until after the game at which point it let fly in spectacular manner, followed minutes later by equally spectacular hail. We all managed to shelter under the ubiquitous Australian bull nosed verandah until the worst had passed and I am not ashamed to say that I am getting too old for all this extreme weather crap. Still, they are into the first round of finals next week.

No word from No2 Son. Not that I thought there would be yet.

Just a post script to all this mess. No 2 Son had thought he might go and stay with his mother who has moved to Canberra in the lat few years. I suggested that this was a great plan. Time to catch up with Mum, get away from the small town mentality of Adelaide and se a bit of the country. Unfortunately when he rang Mum to confirm this idea she told him that she didn't want him. Not in so many words perhaps but the message was clear. She actually rang Himself and said how she couldn't take No2 Son in more than short bursts as he was 'too intense'. Hello, welcome to my world!

No wonder the poor kid is fith (f***ed in the head)! Mean ole stepmother who won't let him get away with squat and a mother who can't cope with him!!

I am being very objective about this. My sharp tongue the other night was a trigger rather than a cause. He was ready to fly. I was just his excuse. I can live with that.

At the end of the day in situations like this my first port of call is prayer. There is certainly bugger all I can achieve here under my own recognisances.

Onward and upward mateys! Here's to our Aussie swim girls!!!!