Hashtag lovely

Last night I found myself at Ringwood station, normally the sort of place you can’t walk 5 steps without being asked if you can spare a cigarette, but yesterday the scene of something rather special and lovely. There was a poster up at the entrance point, and a box of texters, and members of the public were encouraged to write up what they were grateful for on the poster. Lots of heartwarming contributions – ‘my family’ ‘my boyfriend’ ‘having a caring family and a roof over my head’ ‘my family and sport,’ ‘my awesome school ‘ this beautiful life’. I wrote up my own contribution of course, and then instagrammed it attempting to stay uncynical. All the feels.

Yeah, hokey as fuck, but quite nice. ringwood-stationI then headed back to Baysie, where the entire suburb is a mass of orange shirts, as we prepare for the bloody level crossings to be removed.

Usually at this time of year people start to get tired. And by people I mean me. I am really tired. My eyes look like puffy pastries. I’m too tired to blowdry my hair so it stays in perpetual topknotdryshampoo combo/mess. I’m so tired that trying to muster up some sort of energy or inspiration to write is a huge effort.

It’s been a busy year. Lots of good stuff of course, but a few challenges professionally and personally. Also the world has gone a bit mad. Which is a bit terrifying. The presidency anyone? What the fucking fuck…

Anyway, I have begged a day to work from home today so that I may have a bit of extra sleep and a bit of extra headspace. And it seems to be working as I feel more human today than I have all week. Tomorrow I shall dive head first into a bucket of wine (first lot of xmas celebrations with the girls) but for today I shall take some well earned respite from the world. Not putting makeup on or contacts in #bliss

My Day in Pics #nofilter

Fossicking around for some #inspo some months ago and came across this. And then did precisely nothing about it and got writing about other shit I was cross about. Until now, where we (I) bring you my day in photos. Yay, #phonesoncameras!

6.30am shine and rise, home

First thing I see in the morning are our dogs, Bob and George, who prefer to stay in bed as long as possible. Similar to LAH, who prefers not to have his picture taken. This was taken on my way out the door.

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7am: Heatherdale train station. Coolish morning, in a coat, wondering why I don’t do the sensible thing and drive to H.dale every morning, where I have the choice of many more trains and don’t have to take the dumb replacement buses. Train deserted, so I get seat. Good start to morning.

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7.40am coffee, Little Bourke St. Skinny latte from Higher ground. Very nice people here, and hipster AF, but the reason I go is their coffee is strong and delic. That’s better!

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8.30 now in office, CBD. This is what I look at most of the day. Living the dream….

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10am boss puts up today’s The Age word scramble. It took me many hours to get today’s puzzle.

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12pm, Latrobe St: daily lunchtime walk around the streets – lovely clear day but cool wind. Here is an old w class tram on the city circle tourist route filled with tourists. Bless.

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1pm sushi for lunch, back at desk: Quite ordinary sushi actually but filled the gap!

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3pm, at desk: check fit bit – 6324– not heaps. Might walk to Richmond

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4.30, Yarra River: walk to Richmond down the Yarra and over the bridge to the MCG. Lovely afternoon…Coat now off.

And some random stuff, near the Princes Bridge:

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6pm get home. Greeted by Bob who is more awake now.

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Check on veggie garden also – Kale going nuts. What to do with it? Am a bit over frittata.

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7pm Dinner served by Chef LAH. He breaks the news he ate my last skinny cow icecream last night! This is his cauliflower and hot smoked salmon one pan wonder (so he’s forgiven now). Bloody yum.

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9pm, couching n chillaxing infront of the ABC… cup of tea and dogs. Bed soon!

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This week, in ‘Hoarders’

Despite having a large house, there never seems to be enough space for you know, stuff. The house is filled with clothes (mine), lego (his), and umpteen books (both of us). (This is not including the numerous hairpins. They multiply on their own). Just general  human clutter that is for the most part unnecessary.

Seeking advice from the intertubes, (after finding laptop underneath clothes, lego, books and ubiquitous hairpins) I found this.

Apparently de-cluttering is a good thing – in an uncluttered environment we can all be calmer and more productive or something. Sounded encouraging. So off we went, using the following guide:
1. Start small.
Ok, did this. Decided upon small section of the house to declutter / tidy up. This was the drawer in the back room. Attempted to open it. Couldn’t, as hot water bottle (probably) wedged in. Moved on to next thing, knickers drawer. Chucked cottontails and uncomfortable g-bangers from 2003. Felt quite good.

By starting small, we also started with small time intervals. LAH* spent 15 minutes in the cramped camping items cupboard, before taking a break to watch footy and refill wine glass. He did go back to it though.

2. Make decluttering a quick 15-minute weekly routine – cool will do. It’s only been 3 days.

3. Get in the habit of putting things away, than “doing it later” – started this last night by hanging up jacket in cupboard when I got home. True story.

4. Store away seldom used items, and dispose or donate unused ones – yup, done. After we both solemnly swore not to chuck out each other’s clothes and CDs without express permission, we started a pile. On it we chucked dresses, a suit, shoes and jackets never to be worn again. Old books of no value helped give the pile some texture. Sorted clothes and packed fancy dress items in box, hung my occasional formalwear and categorised handbags. Accepted that the blue suede pumps will not get worn again. Added them to pile. Found a landline handset. We have never had a landline in the house. Chucked it. Donated clothing items. Gifted old mobile phones and innumerable phone chargers to mobile muster at Officeworks.

We grew more and more ruthless. ‘If in doubt, chuck it out!’ we said, moving like snipers through the house. Special bowls and the crystal that we use when non drinking people come over were tucked away and labelled in the cupboard. (Depressingly, my old camera that I took to Dublin in 2008 did not make the ‘label and store’ cut, and is now with Vinnie’s of Heathmont. Mustn’t hold on to old detritus! (wah))

5. Use plenty of containers when storing items – yes and the millions of shoe boxes I have kept came in handy here. Most tellingly was my bedside drawer, filled with multivitimins, inhalers, medications, and tubes of hand cream. Decluttered the fuck out of that using containers and shoeboxes.

6. Teach your kids to be responsible for their mess – we tried that but Bob and George just yawned and rested their heads on their paws.

7. Address the emotional reasons why you collect clutter – this is a WIP.

Outcome: more space, less clutter. It’s the maintenance that will prove the challenge, probably.
Running update: I don’t have one, but we did married last week. It was super.

*Lovely Australian Husband

What I really wanted to say…

Lacking the blog #inspo, as the kids call it these days. So I’m just going to tell you what has popped into my head today so far, and have not said because of propriety / CBF.

Wanted to say to workmate with no interior monologue whatsoever: Seriously, and I really mean this: You go to lunch! Go home! You tell that person what you think. You SEND that email. You go girl! OH you are going to the toilet? That is FANTASTIC!

To dickhead I know and had to have coffee with: Ugh. Seriously, are you trying to look like Errol Flynn with the pocket square and ironic mo? It’s not even original anymore.

To lady a mac counter at Myer: Yes, am happy to pay $41 for new lipstick. Sorry, crayon, yeah whatevers. But would prefer not to. Sigh, need pick me up. There you go.

To the hipster on his fixie riding towards Bayswater station: Are you lost? If not, why are you living so far away from cold drip single origin? Is it because you are staying with mum before you go to Berlin to pursue your dreams as a conceptual artist? And isn’t it hard to cycle with that button done up to your big pubic beard?? Surely it’s restrictive?

To our black Labrador, George: you are welcome to stay outside overnight for ‘George time’, but 4.30am is much too early to tell us and the neighbours all about the possums on the fence. Be quiet puppydogs (actually I may have said something).

Poss. Off.

Dear Mr Possum

Look, you know? I get it. You’re hungry. And you like zucchinis. Hey, I get that. I love zucchinis too. Such a versatile vegetable aren’t they. Such a good way to greens into the kids’ meals.

I know you think you have been clever, with your sheltering in our roof, plucking off the odd strawberry from the strawberry plant (just a couple, mind, so i assume it’s a bird) or teasing the crap out of the dogs at 10pm. And yes, I get that you are native to Australia and I am not.
But Possum? You are being watched my friend. You have gone too far this time.
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If I catch you doing this again, the punishment will be swift and harsh. Please join the perimeter of your cousins over at the bins at number 9. They would love to accommodate you and your needs.
Sincerely,
Bridge

Suburbs, darlz

It occurs to me this afternoon that I am fast becoming a suburbanite. Today I have gardened, played with dogs, walked, made cheesecake for dinner guests this evening, had long gossipy conversation with K regarding her lovely 7 month old son (he’s lovely) and done some chores. Back in the day my Saturday would have looked like this:

  • Wake up at 11, hungover
  • Go downstairs, despair at state of kitchen, and go fuck it, I am going out
  • Go and spend money at a café for brunch
  • Go shopping for unnecessary items (probably with K)
  • While away afternoon until it’s time to drink again
  • Go out and get pissed and laugh with mates.

But these days I find myself actually excited over budding strawberries, tiny sunflower fronds and fledgling zucchinis.

I do have an aperol spritzer right here though. So all is not lost.

Running update: Did 10k with sister last week around Jells Park. Quite the challenge with it’s undulating paths. Was awarded the spoon. Quite funny, but even funnier? The time was my pb.

Melbourne update: in a daring and unoriginal way for Fairfax to provoke the chattering classes, domain.com.au published it’s liveability index last week, which pitted suburb against suburb, ranking each in terms of liveability, using such criteria as proximity to the CBD, proximity to the coastline, the open spaces, the congestion, public transport options, and of course, the availability of the ubiquitous Melbourne latte. Where we live came 189th out of 300 odd, which in such a nice city I don’t actually think is that bad, personally.

‘It’s kind of obscure, and you probably haven’t heard of it’

Spotted last night outside Coles in Baysie: Lumbersexual man in 20s. Check shirt (buttoned to neck), black skinny jeans and slip ons (no socks) with man bun and beard (obviously).

It’s already started happening.

RU: Managed 5k at lunchtime today up to Swan St Bridge and back. Pace: slow and lumbering. Everyone seems I can complete 10k on Sunday except me. Slightly concerned.