#1506 Day 8 of getting there: The home/work convenience

Today I am simply grateful for the convenience of work… at home.

I roll out of bed, wash my face, get dressed in my trakkies and my hoodie, and head downstairs to log in.

That’s it. I’m at my work desk.

At first I was truly uncertain as to how it would all go. Working at home, and trying to keep baby girl busy while doing a new job, at that?

It has gone well, amazingly. Sure, some days she will yell at me to come to her, only to show me the urgency of a passing cargo ship.


Other times she will hug me 16 times, and stand by me while I try my hardest to concentrate.

Other times she will play with puzzles on end.

Watch a movie.

Take a walk in the back yard with Mister F.

I am so grateful for her compliance, as much as I am grateful to use my toilet, eat food from my fridge, and make tea/coffee as many times as I want to.

I think I can get a bit too used to this… πŸ™‚

#1497 My cat’s face

My gratitude peaked exceptionally high this morning, at 8:25.

You see, overnight I was anxious and worried. Both Hubbie and I were.

Because we had let our cat Mister F out of the house after dinner last night… something we never really do, because as we like to joke, he meets up with his cat friends and sees his girlfriend and goes to the cat club, and then WON’T COME HOME.

The way we get him back is by shaking his special packet of cat treats. These things he would fly through the air for. It’s a little trick we use for when we need him inside, quickly, and don’t know where he is.

But last night, he didn’t respond to the treat-bag-shake.

For maybe 90 minutes, we repeatedly went to different doors, shook the bag, and called him. But nothing. It got dark. Our calls got quieter, not wanting to upset the neighbours with our cat calls.

Still the treat bag shook.

When Hubbie went to bed, we had to make the choice… Mister F was still not there, but our bird Orange-cheeks was outside. If we allowed both of them to stay out, Mister F would surely arrive at some stage and try to jump on Orange-cheek’s cage.

We didn’t want a bird-blood-bath to tend to in the morning… soΒ Hubbie brought Orange-cheeks in.

Lowered the blinds.

Turned off the lights.

But even though everyone else went to sleep, including our bird in the other room, I couldn’t help but check a few more times if Mister F was sitting outside the laundry, waiting to be let in.

But still, nothing. I went to bed worried, thinking how he had never slept outside before.

In the morning, an ambulance woke me early as it passed the street… and then that was it.

My mind was turning. I could not sleep anymore.

I was preparing for the worst, imagining horrible scenarios.

Who would I call first? Surely the shelter where we had gotten Mister F from… what if someone had handed him in? He had been found on the street, possibly injured?

Which photo would I post of him on the lost and found pet web site for my area?

We hadn’t even had him a year.

I trudged downstairs, fairly resolved in what I believed was our definite fate. Still I peeked into the laundry, hoping I would see something, my heart feeling heavy.

And I did… a familiar black and white furry figure was sitting outside on the mat, huddled up.

I gasped. Dropped my phone on a nearby bench. And I ran to open the door.

“Mister F!” Overwhelming relief was submerged by my tears that flooded out as I pat him, this cat that had a look on his face like he had gone through some heavy shit overnight.

“Ohhh, pussy cat.”

I will never take you for granted again Mister F. Nor will you ever see daytime after dinner either. πŸ˜‰


#1463 So close to royalty at the firies concert

I wish we were in Sydney tonight in the crowd of thousands, watching artist after group after band perform on stage to raise money for the bushfire catastrophe that has gripped Australia and the rest of the world over the last couple of months.

Did I say artists? I meant legends.

We only caught the last couple of hours of the show on tv, but were there in time to watch Adam Lambert and Queen take to the stage.

Anyone following my blogs knows what I think about Queen.


It was truly something special. My thoughts kept going from “how amazing is Adam Lambert” to –

“How can he stand up to Freddie Mercury?”

“Of course he can’t, he’s his own person.”

“But Freddie was the best.”

“But look how far Adam has come to be performing with Queen!”

To and fro, my thoughts, and my words to Hubbie next to me on the couch.

Then they put Freddie on screen doing his legendary operatic solo bit where the crowd copies him, and seeing him lighting up the darkness of the arena with his yellow outfit, so large and life-like, I swear it was like he was there.


But then baby girl came into the room, and I was a little on edge.

As way of explanation… we haven’t quite spoken about death with her. She knows that if you do something stupid (like run out onto a busy road, get caught in a fire, or don’t put sunscreen on) you can die.

Things like that I bluntly drill into her. Shock effect to make her listen.

But real-life death, death of those around us? As far as she gets it from what I can tell, there are people ‘here’ on earth, and then there are people who are not… the in-between from here to there I think she doesn’t comprehend, and as for ‘there,’ the concept is all a bit cartoon-like for her, like Ursula the sea witch being stabbed to death in The Little Mermaid, or Mother Gothel falling out the tower in Rapunzel.

It’s all a bit exaggerated and other-worldly.

Add to that my first experience understanding death when I was about her age… and the thought of making her as sad and scared as I had been, was devastating to even consider.

So when this rock star princess of ours entered the room to “We Will Rock You,” took one look at Adam and asked “where’s Freddie?” I knew it was the perfect opportunity to break into a discussiom about death with her, and it might even just work, because Freddie, wasn’t part of our extended family.

But then again… with the amount we played Queen around the house, he might as well have had his own bedroom downstairs.

“He’s not here tonight honey…” I shot a confused look at Hubbie, who just shrugged. He’d previously said that talking about the death of a celebrity was the perfect segue into real-life.

But now he was looking as reluctant as I was.

“… he’s not singing anymore,” I ended. I waited for her to ask, but the question didn’t come. She stared at the screen for a few moments, before turning to our cat on the couch.

“Mister F, who do you like better? Freddie Mercury or this guy?”


“Mama, who do you like better, Freddie Mercury or this guy?”


Off she went to the other room to ask Hubbie who had just walked off, and I heard his answer as short, simple and brief as mine: “Freddie.”

“Baby girl, who do you prefer?” I asked as she came back in.

“Freddie Mercury!”

He almost is like a part of our family…. so that conversation will have to wait, for another day.

But for tonight at least… Adam and Queen brought him back to life.

You can still donate to the bushfire relief here: https://firefightaustralia.com/

Thank you. ❀

#1451 My cat, my way

I figure after all this time of Mister F being in our family, that I need to post something about him.

He is great. Truly adorable. We totally have a love-hate relationship. There are times I love him… then there are times, as Hubbie will attest to, where I pretend I’m mad at him, but secretly I’m amused (while smoke shoots out my ears).


He is a really loving cat that can also go a bit cray-cray, who’ll swipe you in a sweet way if for example, you are touching him too much while he is napping (but they are so cute when they nap!)

Today I was waiting for a phone call, and so ventured outside to get some sunshine. First he was rubbing against my legs constantly, but when he saw the chair pulled up close to mine, he jumped on it, trying to get as close to me as possible.

Then he saw the table… and being a cat, had to be higher up than me.

So he jumped.


Here he is, being a typical cat. And of course, here I am being a typical SmikG.

Of course I was never going to post his feline face! πŸ˜„πŸ±πŸ˜»πŸ˜ΈπŸˆπŸΎ

#1418 Holidaying at home

We have wanted to do it for so long.

But finally, we really feel like we are holidaying where we live.


It’s the best. Circumstances beyond our control (me no job?!?!) have meant that we were definitely NOT going anywhere far this summer… but to be honest, last time we went away for a few nights, all we wanted to do was go home to our neck of the woods, and explore.

With Hubbie on holiday lately we’ve been able to do that. Look around our side of the world. Admire beaches and take long walks, eat yummy food and drink even more coffee, head off to other towns and kinda be a tourist, but then…

Drive home and feed the cat and sleep in our beds.

And there is NOTHING like sleeping in your own bed.

And it truly did feel like we were away… after some time at home in the late afternoon, we then went out locally for dinner… something we always do when we go away.


They say taking a holiday makes you appreciate your home more.

I think we’ve been there, done that.

Now we are just holidaying here and appreciating here MORE. β™₯β™₯β™₯β™₯


#1367 Bathing it away

I’m actually kinda surprised. After getting rained on after school drop off, and having to witness my cat totally drugged out with pupils like saucers due to his new meds… I was almost laughing today.

You know when thing after thing goes wrong, and you literally look up to the sky and say “what now?”

But I amazed myself in my strength. I thought all this crap would have worn me down… but instead, like the main character in my book says “BRING IT ON.”

Maybe I’m somehow channeling her. Maybe I’m gaining inspiration through her fictional self. Either way, I moved on from the crap, and set myself up for…

A blissful bath.

There is always a reason why I shouldn’t have a bath. There are always 58 things I should be doing instead of lying in water, alone, breathing in to my thoughts.

But I’ve learnt by now that time like this isn’t a luxury… it’s a necessity.

So. Candle light. A steaming bath. The meditative sound of a slowly dripping tap, against the backdrop of howling winds outside the window.

Steam rises above me. The air is damp. I sink into the watery cocoon and let it swallow me whole, my body submerged by all that is peaceful, all that is good.

And with it my mind and soul slide into a place where my equilibrium is restored, and everything makes sense.


#1366 Moving on when shit gets hard


It’s been one of those days.

I have been to the vet more in these past 6 weeks for our cat Mister F, then I ever have been for the 11 and a half years I had my childhood cat.

We’ve had Mister F for only 7 months now.

Lately, it feels like shit just keeps getting thrown my way.

Smile. Nod. No, things are getting better…


Breathe in. Deep sigh. Step forward…

Shit storm.

Hold my head high. Shake the shit off…

MORE shit.

So there comes a time when you just go ‘enough is enough.’

I am going to whinge, and I am going to be cranky.

I am ALLOWED to be.

It’s been one of those days.

But then again, I laugh to myself (sarcastically of course)…

It feels like it’s been one of those weeks.


Shock horror… years even.


Despite my hissy fits and bitch-fests about life today, I actually realised something.

I wasn’t throwing in the towel… because doing so would be so easy, right?

You stop trying. You stop hoping. You stop trying to make things better for yourself.

You just give up and… WAIL.

But I wasn’t there today. And I think despite all the crap flung my way, I felt a bit like “huh… okay.”

I wasn’t trying to pep myself out of it. I wasn’t trying to deny myself the negative feelings either. That would have been a disservice to myself, and been a bad move in the long run.

Withheld feelings are never a good thing.

But I just dealt with it. I am still, dealing with it. I think what I have come to realise is that this gratitude game takes a lot of work… even for a glass half-full gal like myself.

You can’t control everything. You can’t control life.

But you can control yourself. And sure I was no Mary Poppins today…

But also, that wouldn’t have helped me.

I guess what I am trying to say, is I am happy with my healthy reaction.

Pissed off. Cranky pants. Shit happens.

Shit happens again. And again. And again.

And so bloody what?Β 

Let’s move on now.

YES. Let’s move on… NOW.