Category: Ramble Page 45 of 57

It’s one of those days where I have to drive up to the city for a 9:30 meeting. It’s also one of those days where I have to drop the kids off at school, fill the car up, and then relax in the contemplative bliss of heavy traffic on the freeway. I do get to the city in time to grab coffee before my meeting, which is of course The Most Important Thing.

I then make the mistake of getting a THIRD Coffee Of The Day when I get Back To The Office which makes the Rest Of The Day feel like EVERYTHING is Being Capitalized.

It’s skating day, which means Rach and the Elderbeast are out until past 7pm. I take my time preparing dinner. Then we eat dinner. Then everyone goes to bed. It’s one of those evenings that they write about in the history books. Or maybe it’s just one of those evenings that I actually get some spare time to write about the evening in which I’m writing about my evening.

And then my head exploded …

Today is PEAC day for the Elderbeast. I drop the Kinderbeast off, drive up to a whole other school to drop the Elderbeast off, and then go to work. At 11am I leave work to go and collect the Elderbeast from PEAC. I have a lengthy conversation about the quality of the Elderbeast’s handwriting, which falls somewhere between that of a UK NHS employee and my own (i.e. abysmal), and how it’s holding him back.

I then drop the Elderbeast at his usual school, where he has his first session with his new mentor, and then have an even lengthier conversation with his usual teacher about how his lack of focus is holding him back.

Clearly work needs to be done.

We end the day with the penultimate episode of Luke Cage. Never before has binge-watching a series been such a marathon task.

It’s Fucken Monday!

The Elderbeast complains of stomach pains in a bid to be excused from school. This is less than ideal as both Rach and I have jobs to get to, and Rach has already left for hers … which is actually, mostly the same as mine–it’s complicated (except not really: we just work in the same office. Also, I’m technically her boss. Which where it gets complicated.)

I’m initially skeptical of the Elderbeast’s claims but for two things: firstly, I don’t want to get a call from the school in about two hours to come and pick him up, which is the usual progression of events in these situations; secondly, he’s being unusually compliant, and good behaviour is one of the typical symptoms of illness in the Elderbeast. In the end, I succeed in abandoning him at the in-laws’ house.

I get to work just in time to see another rejection arrive in my inbox. It’s for a story that I thought had a decent shot, but I guess this one didn’t hit. I still like the story, so I guess I’ll send it elsewhere when I drag myself off the floor.

I continue to be excessively tired after the Friday Night Out. I am literally too old for this shit, but I have no regrets because Friday Night Out was awesome. Nevertheless, I achieve minimal writing on my morning shift. Unless staring forlornly at the screen now counts as writing.

Rach is off to an adult friend’s Disney-themed birthday party, and has abandoned me to chaperone the Kinderbesten to a Children’s Party. It’s local, it’s in a park, and we all survive, which counts as a successful party as far as I’m concerned.

Back home we watch The Good Dinosaur. I’ve read the book to the Kinderbeast several times so it’s good to finally catch up with the movie – and it’s a decent movie too!

For dinner I make an enormous cauliflower curry, and we catch up with Luke Cage (episode 10).

Predictably tired after last night’s fun and games I make the most of my all-too-brief Saturday lie-in. Eventually, however, I have to rise from my slumber we can take Beryl, our bonus Friday night babysitter, home.

After arriving at the in-laws house we conclude that we have not yet had breakfast, despite it being almost lunchtime, and that breakfast must be had. For reasons to vague to be committed to this page we decide to check out a local cafe that we used to frequent but have not visited for at least five years. The cafe is still there, but with a new name, new decor and seemingly under new ownership. It’s a bit like the conundrum of whether you’re still the same human being given that every cell in your body replaces itself over the course of seven years. Or maybe it’s a variant of Schrodinger’s Cat – the cafe that is still there but is also not there anymore.

Either way, they served up a fine eggs benedict.

We head to the shops because I need new jeans. I don’t recall if I wrote about it, but I was mortified to find I’d worn the wrong jeans to work one day: the jeans that have a hole in the knee, instead of my good jeans. I was even more mortified when I realised they were, in fact, the good jeans that had recently developed a hole in the knee.

We also go to Target, where the Kinderbeast spends some of his birthday money–wisely, imo–on a couple of LEGO sets. We are briefly tempted by a film called The Accountant, but decline to purchase. Then it’s off to Coles to acquire a quantity of vegetables to be roasted for our dinner.

For the evening we finally check out John Wick. It’s a film that I’ve seen mentioned often, always in a positive light, but know very little about. There used to be a day when I knew about very film that came out. This is not that day. But the film is great, and leaves me keen to check out the sequel.

Tonight brings a rare outing for Rach and I. Our good friend, and awesomely talented musician, Clay Bolger is doing a Fringe Word Festival gig with his band, The Wesley Goodlet Jamboree Scouts: who are bringing us an entire show devoted to covers of one hit wonders. I love covers! I love one hit wonders! (… sometimes, mostly …) It’s too good a chance to miss.

I get the usual anxiety about going out, which manifests itself in a thumping headache late in the afternoon. I leave work early in the hope I can rest for a while. I indeed rest briefly, and refuse to let the headache defeat me. Rach is still ailing from a migraine, and refusing to let that defeat her, so obviously I’m pretty impressed with my brave stoicism in the face of this massive adversity.

First stop is V Burger, which I’ve yet to sample. En route we determine that this is the first proper, child-free, night out we’ve had since going to see Garbage last November. We agree that we should do this sort of thing much more often.

At V Burger I’m somewhat dazzled by the choice. I’m not overwhelmingly hungry, and don’t want to spend the rest of night feeling like I’ve eaten a small child. Or maybe Rach’s vegetarianism is proving mildly infectious. I opt for the Teriyaki Chicken (grilled chicken breast, teriyaki glaze, caramelised onion, lettuce, tomato, house aioli & wasabi mayo) – admittedly with some caution, as I’ve yet to have a chicken breast burger that didn’t feel like I was eating a huge chunk of dried out meat between two slices of damp bread.

It turns out to be amazing. The chicken is juicy and tender, and the combination of flavours is a revelation. It’s an easy contender for the Best Burger I’ve Ever Eaten.

Luckily, the Victoria Park Hotel turns out to be a longer walk from V Burger than we had expected. Lucky because it gives our food plenty of time to go down. Yes. So lucky. Really. Lucky. I could be so.

We get to the venue, look around, see lots of people, but we don’t see anything that looks remotely like the Wesley Goodlet Jamboree Scouts preparing to perform an awesome night of one-hit wonders. Just … lots of people. People drinking. People chatting. People eating. We start to genuinely wonder if we’ve managed to go to the wrong Victoria Park Hotel. I even check the Facebook page. It says “Victoria Park Hotel” (among many, many other words). Then I spot a single A4 poster on a stand, next to a staircase. It’s a flyer for the gig! We’re in the right place after all.

We make our way up the stairs and quickly find Clay’s equally awesome wife, Rhona. It’s pointed out to me that The Safety Dance was playing as I entered the room; the song and I have a sort of history, so I guess this means I’ve finally figured out how to make an entrance the way they do in the movies.

I was half expecting a tiny, crowded venue – the sort of place where I would need to find a quiet corner to hide out in, but there’s not only plenty of space, there’s even a comfy leather couch at the back of the room. We quickly claim it, because we’re now the sort of people who require a comfy leather couch in order to properly enjoy a live music event.

The Wesley’s play gigs around Perth almost every weekend, but occasionally they do special one-off shows. I’ve been to see them perform David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album for the Newport Tavern’s Record Club Roadshow, as well as Bowie’s Hunky Dory. Both gigs comfortably rank among the best live shows I’ve ever been to. It’s safe to say I’m pretty excited, and they don’t disappoint: kicking off with a medley, getting in one-hit wonders from across the decades and genres, and even throwing in a bit of trivia here and there. I’m equally awed by the way Clay and the rest of band work the crowd. As someone who literally prefers to hide at the back of the room, it’s inspiring to bask in a bit of expert showmanship.

The gig is over all too soon, and we retreat to the balcony, which is about a thousand degrees more refreshing than the inside. After enjoying the breeze, and catching up for a bit with Clay and Rhona, it’s time to head home and let Beryl, Rach’s Nan and our babysitter, get to bed.

It’s been a good night. I’m glad I ignored that headache after all.

Rach and I spend the evening completing the job applications we started the previous night. It’s gruelling work. The closing date for applications is tomorrow: and we have three of them to finish. We finally get it done by about 11pm. I go to bed amazed at how long and tiring the process was – but still mighty pleased that we got them done.

Yay us!

One of those days that barely warrants a diary entry.

I get up. I go to work. Work is fine. Rach recovers from her migraine enough to take the Elderbeast ice-skating. I come home and take an inordinately long time to prepare miso ramen. Carter comes home having bashed his knee and, oh boy, does he let us all know about it. I help Rach put together some job applications and then, suddenly, it’s time for bed!

It’s Valentine’s Day! Which is really just an entirely meaningless thing to Rach and I. In fact I only mention it at all because it turns out to be just about the least interesting aspect of the day.

More importantly, it’s the Elderbeast’s first day of PEAC (Primary Extension And Challenge) which is pretty exciting. I have high hopes that this will inspire him enough to really start using his brains. Less excitingly, Rach has a migraine, but she still manages to come for the introductory session.

So we start the day by driving to PEAC, which takes place at an entirely different school than the usual one. Then I drive back home again to drop Rach off. Then I drive to work … and manage to have  a car crash.

It’s not a bad one. I’m driving along and a level crossing comes down. The car in front of me stops. I’m perhaps not quite paying enough attention because I have to hit the brake hard, but I stop in time. Unfortunately, I see in my rearview mirror that the car coming up behind me isn’t going to be so lucky. Thump.

We pull over (once the train has gone by, of course) and I find myself feeling pretty bad when I see the damage. The front of the other driver’s car is caved in, but there’s barely a scratch on the back of mine. She’s gone right into the tow bar. I feel even worse when she tells me that she’s only just bought the car. Then she says: “And on Valentine’s Day too!” which seems an odd thing to say, as if a car crash is the precise opposite of a romantic night out … which I guess it could be. Either way, I’m glad she didn’t crash into someone who felt like giving her a hard time about it. I feel pretty good about that. We exchange details and move on.

And it’s still only 10am. I drive back to work, where we’ve got a major software release type thing happening, so I have to coordinate that. Then I have to leave again an hour later and collect the Elderbeast from PEAC so I can take him back to his regular school. The good news is he loves PEAC and seems truly inspired. I return to work and sustain myself on cake, donuts and banana bread during the day. When I finally get home I realise I forgot to eat lunch.

The Elderbeast helps me make a pumpkin and coconut dahl for dinner, which turns out super delicious. Over dinner we make the random decision that we will head down to Albany for my birthday–which is in May–and start making plans.

Seriously though – what a day!

Yay, it’s Fucken Monday! This is how all my Monday diary posts will start from now on.

I start writing a new story for my morning shift today. It’s the one that I was looking up remote Scottish hotels for. As part of that research I found a handful of travelogue type reviews of suitable locations, and started reading through them. These articles always convey an almost mythical status upon the places they cover–at least they do to me. The more interesting locations I then looked up individually, and was amazed to find one of them up for sale. Obviously I won’t be putting an offer in, but there’s potential for a whole other story in there … I’m intrigued by the possibility it offers of inserting yourself into local history: buy the place and you will always be the owner of one of the most remote hotels in the world. It’s like The Shining, but for local people …

It was a hot as bastard day today–that’s the official meteorological term. One of those days where stepping outside is about as relaxing as sticking your face into an open oven. The weather often gets hots around here, but this was something else.

Rach was heading off for Galentine’s Day shenanigans, so I get her to drop the kids at work on her way. They sit obediently in a meeting room (with an iPad for company) while I wrapped a few things up. I remember often visiting my Dad at his work place. For some reason I found it the most fascinating thing, especially all the office machinery (telex machines in those days!). I think the Elderbeast may have adopted this strange obsession, as he was enthralled by the huge laser printer we have sitting by our door.

We pick up one of the Elderbeast’s friends on the way home (we ride with the windows open, and it’s like someone attached a legion of fan heaters to the outside of the car). The boys make way too much noise. Then the alt-Elderbeast’s mother comes along and takes the pair of them to the beach. Suddenly it’s just me and the Kinderbeast surrounded by a silence so sudden and perfect it can only be an illusion.

Meat sauce for dinner. Damn good it was too.