#855 Singing on the way to family day

Monday morning. Cold, but still. I had dropped off baby girl at kinder, and was now driving along towards the freeway, the music blaring through my car…

I was heading to the city, with George. George being of ‘Michael’ fame. 😉 And ‘the city’ being 40 minutes out of the Peninsula, which let’s face it is more city than anything in the south beachside where we are.

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Not only did I have THE BEST TIME EVER singing out loud to music from my ipod as the sun streamed on down through the windows (think Bruno, old school Christina, and the best reggaetón from Daddy Yankee) but I was heading towards a much looked forward to destination.

I was having lunch with my parents and sister today. It was a month late, the occasion being us girls taking our folks out for a belated anniversary date… but better late than never, and to be honest I’m pleasantly surprised it didn’t take us ’til Spring time to organise.

We have busy schedules. All of us live on opposite sides to one another. But we pushed all of life to the side for a couple of hours today, where we celebrated my parents marriage by talking about their 50 years plus together, from all of those years ago when they first made the move to Australia, all the way to today, where we made plans for more fun and parties that will surely follow.

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We always say that we should do these catch-ups more often… let’s hope that we do, as I am all for the awesome foursome getting into some more food, some more family memories and laughs, and lastly, some more singing in the car.

#854 Back to bed on a Sunday

My gratitude came super early this morning. Like 7am early, in the form of baby girl calling out to me from downstairs.

7am is early for a Sunday. A Sunday in Winter. A Sunday in which darkness is still creeping through the sides of the blinds, and a Sunday where I had to work the following Saturday night, late into the early hours of…

Sunday Morning. It was that kind of Sunday.

It was cold. I was still so tired. But after attending to baby girl, I headed on back upstairs…

To sleep in beautiful peace for another 3 and a half hours. We all slept. We all needed it. The house was still and silent and calm, and we drifted off into our fairy tale lands amidst it all.

I LOVED IT.

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Photo by Olya /Voloshka on Unsplash

#853 Open to the ‘signs’

Call it hilarious. Call it timely. Call it freaky. Call it coincidental.

No, don’t call it coincidental. There are no such things.

But with all of the emphasis I have been placing lately on signs… like the post I wrote last week where the psychic asked me that very telling and bone-chillingly accurate question as if he were reading my mind… then the other day I posted this on Instagram:

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And I was feeling like the world keeps asking me, checking and confirming from me, the very same thing.

And now, like right now. I am doing a late shift at work. I walk into the kitchen to get my dinner ready. I see a lady who is in another department – we don’t see each other often, but when we do, she always wants to hear about baby girl.

And her second question to me, immediately after the one asking how old she is now, is:

“Now I hope you are writing down this stage of life for her – because when it is over, that’s it.”

I smiled, my mind in disbelief. “Yes, I am quite good at recording these things,” I said with a grin.

And then we went on to talk about their grown up phrases, and I told her that baby girl had said to me on my way to work this evening

“Have a good day at work Mum!” and “Take care!” –

the exact two things I was originally going to post about for my gratitude today, my love for her humorous and so grown-up phrases.

Damn. Why do people keep asking me about writing?

I think the Universe is asking, because it wants an answer. It wants to know if I am legit or not.

It wants to know, what I have to say.

#852 Sweet reminiscings, and bittersweet goodbyes

Sugar prevailed today.

Some was of a transient quality, the kind you get when you visit a place you used to frequent often, a long long time ago.

That is a rather poetic way of saying that I caught up with my parents in a shopping centre on the other side of town. I used to go there fairly regularly, and I swear I don’t know what it is, but I miss the shopping centres on my old side of town so much. The three I used to alternate between visiting had a variety of shops, gave me a different experience at each one, and also, all three were relatively close compared to my now 40 minute drive to either Southland or Chadstone.

Of course, once there, coffee was in order.

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Like I said. Reminiscently sweet.

🙂

And then I had one of my last late, late work shifts tonight, because well, someone will be taking over the reigns soon, THANK GOD. No more driving home post 1am. But this night held something else over good riddance to crappy late shifts… a dear work colleague who I have worked with for the past 8 years, well tonight was her last shift… before starting the most important job of her life – becoming a Mum.

To see her off properly, again, sugar.

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There was cake galore, some brought in by her, some brought in by me. I decided to eat it all at once, but then I didn’t know if the ill feeling was from overconsumption, or the realisation I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore at work past tonight.

😦

Sweets that help us remember, and sweets that help us to pay tribute. Their unifying theme is the moment of gratitude we hold when we look back in appreciation and understanding… that things change, people move on, and people move away… but we can still remember these things fondly and hold them dear to our hearts…

Keeping the memories sweet in our hearts. ♥

 

#851 In hot water

When you move to an old house, that just so happens to also be your dream house… well you’re happy, that’s to be expected. But at the same time, the time comes where you need to start renovating, and removing the old, from your old house.

And each time we give our house the much-needed facelift it so desperately needs, we breathe a united sigh of relief: “Ahh. Another thing down.”

Let me provide you now with a song by one of my favourite groups:

It is totally relevant, let me assure you. Because it is related to our most recent house facelift. Queen sing about being Under Pressure as a bad thing… sure, when you’re rushing to work, rushing home, rushing through life… trying to make ends meet, being pulled left and right by family and friends, trying to find the money to make it through… Sure, that pressure is SHIT.

But not all pressure is shit. For example, like that essential water pressure you require to come out of a tap.

Segue eat your heart out.

Our house was built sometime in the early 80s… and we may have inadvertently found out the actual year, when we first reviewed our building inspection report before buying the house, and found on a photo of the very old electric hot water unit, the year ‘1980.’

1980! Not just the house, but the electric hot water unit! Who even has electric hot water units these days?

Until this morning, we did.

We were living on the edge for a year and a half. Because of the age of the system, we were told that changing it to a newer hot water unit was imperative… and instead of doing it immediately, we waited…

Why? Because priorities. Other things seemed more important. Also $$$. And then again, I mean, it was still working… just for how long, we didn’t know.

But we made it. We made it through without the dreaded ancient thing exploding on us. It used to make this insane screeching sound, each time the faucet was turned to hot. This shrieking was reminiscent of the horror scene from Psycho, with longer pauses between screeches, and the screams themselves prolonged. Hear, have a listen from 1:10 (or if you wanna freak yourself out watch the WHOLE THING):

I am not kidding you when I say our hot water system would screech like that when you turned it on. We grew accustomed to the racket, the ongoing Psycho shower scene of our life that we were stuck in, like a really horrible episode of the Twilight Zone, yet at the same time not so accustomed so as to turn it on in the morning to wake up a certain princess. No siree, I wasn’t going to let Hubbie, or myself, risk that.

Freezing cold water for every early morning it was.

And the pressure! Ever since renovating the kitchen, well the old hot water system suddenly couldn’t keep up with the new tapware and plumbing. It was frustrating, having a new kitchen, new applicances, all shiny and new and workable, and then there was the

SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH

psycho theme going on in the background, with non-existent water pressure.

But today. Ohhhh today. This:

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We finally got our new gas hot water system installed. It is huge, it is situated outside, NOT in the prehistoric ‘attic’ position, and well, there is pressure.

It is HOT, but it is set at a certain temperature so it is not scalding. I won’t develop 3rd degree burns when I turn the lever a little too much to the bottom when washing dishes.

It may be the most boring as batshit post to some, but to me, to us, it is everything…

Looking forward to turning up the heat tomorrow morning… and no more of this –

psycho shower scene

 

 

#849 Nothing, and everything

Well, today it happened.

I was at a loss to creatively find something new to be grateful for.

Baby girl having a good day at kinder? It’s been done.

Happy to have a working heater on such a cold day? Done.

Happy we vegged on the couch tonight with takeaway? Also done.

Happy I had some wine? Done done done.

I had gotten calls concerning appointments and jobs to be done over the next week – this gave me satisfaction, but the strength to write about them in a creative manner (it’s not just stating the gratitude, it’s also finding the creative drive to make a story out of it) well that focus I needed was GONE.

Baby girl and Hubbie made me laugh countless times, and we hugged and complimented Hubbie on how much better he looked without his beard – that has also been done.

I watched Shark Tank, LOVED it – done.

Hell, I’m even feeling better regarding my cold – and that too has also been done.

And as I sat there later this evening, realising all the things I was grateful for had already been expressed before… it dawned on me that I had just made a brand new list, and this new list had never been done before.

So suddenly, I was grateful for it all 🙂

 

#848 Beard be gone!

I began to really understand true love, when Hubbie started to grow a beard.

It made me think of wedding vows – and all the things we flippantly and easily adhere to when quoting words said so many times before us, from generations upon generations of couples.

“For Better, for Worse

For Richer, for Poorer

In Sickness and in Health

With or Without Facial Hair

To Love and to Cherish

’til death do us part…”

You don’t remember that bit? Really? You were overly sentimental and distracted on your big day, surely.

Jokes aside – I really have thought of this quote, many times in humour, over the last 5 months of Hubbie’s facial-growing-hair progress, otherwise known as THE BEARD.

I have thought of it, because I have realised in awe “I detest this beard sooo much, and yet I still bloody love this man.”

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I always knew the beard would go. That’s why it made it easier to deal with. Also, Hubbie changes his mind, opinions, tastes, styles, and even his inflexible views, SO much, that I knew this too would change. It was a phase. I knew, if I just “let it go” per Elsa style, and let him do what he had to do… he would get it out of his system, and move on.

The realisation that he had to get rid of it, came slowly. It was a gradual build-up of his own annoyances at the hair getting everywhere; he had given it a really good shot; and although most people responded to the growth positively, with women complimenting him, and men wishing they could grow a beard so thick and long… one friend last night said it best and mirrored my thoughts, when he said to Hubbie –

“but those people aren’t gonna kiss you.”

“Exactly!” I cried.

So today, he did it. We went into the bathroom where we first put scissors to skin. It was that thick, and chunks of hair fell into the sink below him. I cut pieces off when he needed me to get to certain parts. It was so incredibly satisfying.

Half-way through, after using some clippers, this:

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Half-way there. We were amazed. He looked so much better already. So youthful and fresh and 10 years younger, at least. That beard had aged him.

I left to do some other things (this was at least a decent 30 minute job) and when I returned with baby girl, telling her “Daddy looks all brand new,” she poked her head into the bathroom shyly.

He was shaving off the last remaining bits. But wow. Just wow. Check it out for yourself.

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Baby skin! I got myself a new Hubbie. As baby girl said “you don’t look old anymore!” LOL.

But I swear he has the worst timing… I’m still recovering from my cold, and have the occasional cough, blowing my nose approximately 20 times a day… but when I recover…

THOSE LIPS ARE MINE!

Watch out 😉