at home in the new(ish) house

Our new house has arches. We can't knock them down, apparently, or the roof will fall -which wouldn't be good. I'll have to think of some other creative way of disguising them.......any ideas?




We don't have any bookshelves yet.







But this mess is familiar, comforting. It follows me wherever I go, from house to house. I think it loves me. And, no wonder, I leave it be, give it room to grow.....some might say I nurture it.




We had snow last week. Charlie thought it was most cool.

word meter thingamy

I read recently on a certain writerly blog that it is very BORING and not at all COOL to talk about your word count and other such Work-in-Progress related stuff.

But in keeping with my latest habit of boring you to death with silence I've decided to be more proactive about my boringness. Yes, no more of that no posts at all type of boringness! Far too passive! I'm getting aggressive! I'm here to actively bore you by talking about my new word meter. Nobody can accuse me of not being a go-getter.

Here it is:

32,000 / 100,000

It is very pretty, is it not? And it lives over there, on the sidebar just above that other word counter thing, the fatter, rounder, blue one -the one that hasn't MOVED at all for months and months (lazy slug of a thing). Anyway this faster, much more streamlined word counter was designed by the very clever Leigh from The Art of Subtle Procrastination and though she hasn't exactly guaranteed that it will make me write faster or more consistently, I'm pretty confident that it will.

We'll have to wait and see.

And coming up next - my analysis of the recent Australian budget.

(edited to add - hmm, well, the meter in this post looks a bit, well, no, VERY weird. It has its own frame. Anyway, if you look to the right you'll see the real thing)

cough ...cough....ahem.

yes.

...cough....

a little late, I am.

Much has happened since, um, December, when I last, um , updated here.

Most significantly, we sold our house and bought a new one and moved in (5 bedrooms! enormous rumpus room! beautiful garden, next door to school!!!) which was, well, fun, kinda, not.

And NIGHTSWIMMING has been released in print.....and, if you are so inclined, you may buy it here.

I shall be back.....

BIZZY TIMES

Dear readers,


I hope you all have a WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS and a fantabulous new year. I'll be back blogging in mid January. In the meantime I'll be enjoying an Aussie Christmas which involves a lot of sunshine, the beach, blowflies, mosquitoes, Santa and presents, an inappropriately hot baked lunch, lots of wine, family and not a flake of snow.

See you all next year!!

onwards and upwards!

I may not have been blogging much lately....but I have been writing. And I'm very happy to be at the halfway point (though not as happy as I thought I'd be back when I first began this book.....still feels like there's miles and miles of work to do yet).

I wrote of terror today:

But there are a lot of different pictures in my head, more chilling scenarios, alternatives that seem more likely – rape, torture, murder – and they are all so petrifying that I start to cry. Great, gulping sobs that make my body shudder and my breath come in noisy, rasping heaves.

And of love:

I love Will. He loves me. And he is so perfect, so gentle and kind. And I’ll hold this little nugget of knowledge, the treasure of my love for him, and it will keep me warm and happy no matter what happens. When I’m at home alone in my bedroom - grounded - (as I know I will be) the thought of Will, the memory of the time we spent together tonight, the promise of what’s to come, will be enough to make it bearable – worth it, even.

So now the house is messy - I need to vacuum and mop and fold and wash - and I feel mildly guilty (writing will always feel like an indulgence until I can actually bring in some money for it....) but excited and accomplished at the same time.

And I'll be back very soon to answer some interview questions that the fantabulous Jen of A2eatwrite has sent me........

stake and vej

steak and potatoes and broccoli for dinner tonight.

*sigh*

Does anyone else ever get sick of cooking? Does anyone else ever contemplate serving cheese-on-toast or baked beans night after night after night after night just to avoid all the hassle? Does anyone else wish they had a resident chef to cook gourmet, nutritious and actively slimming meals each night? Does anyone else wonder how old a child has to be before you send them off to cooking classes and make the preparation of the nightly meal their chore?

I think I need to change my attitude.

How about....

Perfectly cooked Scotch fillet served with steamed broccolini and baby new potatoes with thyme-butter.

hmmmm - much better.

But still - who's gonna do all the washing up?!

Crazy (non) Clients

Crazy (non) Client: So, what do you think? This tile or this one? Do you like the pinky- salmon tones or the baby-blue?

Me: Um, I think they're both fine (I look anxiously at the clock, I've been talking to this woman about the colours in her kitchen for over fifteen minutes now - and I have a customer coming to sign a contract in less than ten minutes and I have to finalise his plan and get the contracts ready) But Perhaps we could discuss this all a bit later. When you're certain you want to go ahead?

Crazy (non) Client: I was just worried about the splashback actually? What do you think? Glass or tiles?

Me: Glass. I like glass. But these details can definitely be worked out a bit later. There's no hurry. (I drag the diary over and look at her questioningly) So? When would you like me to come over and take a look?

Crazy (non) Client: (Looking puzzled) Oh. But you don't need to do that. The builder has already organised Dodgy Kitchens (local competitor) to do the job.

Me: (confused now) So. Oh. Um, you're getting a kitchen from Dodgy's?

Crazy (non) Client: (unabashed) Definitely. We've paid the deposit and everything. Oh look. (she picks up a large Granite sample from the floor) Do you think I should have something like this? I know it costs a lot more...and that it is porous and...but it really is so beautiful...and I just love those pinky tones...and my husband...

Me: Um. Excuse me. Um...but...I think perhaps the guys from Dodgy will help you with this.

Crazy (non) Client: (smiling, completely OBLIVIOUS) Oh. Yes. I'm sure they would. But they don't have any women there and ....well....it's just so much nicer talking to a woman about this stuff, isn't it? (eyes opening wide) Oh My Goodness! Look at that colour! That is exactly what I am looking for! ( she picks up another granite sample - a particularly vomitous splotchy green- and-pink, and holds it up with delight)

Me: Um. Excuse me. I'm really sorry. But we don't normally...really...offer this service to people who are getting kitchens from our competitors. You have to understand..we can't really afford to....

Crazy (non) Client: (Smiling - has she heard what I said?) But I don't want to go too pink. After all ( she laughs) my husband has to live in the house as well. I don't want to make it look..

Me: (feeling quite pissed off now, she has wasted my time and I'm going to be late for my next client) I'm really sorry. I'm sure Dodgy's will be happy to help you. I really do have to get back to work now. Excuse me. (and I go to the desk and sit down. My back to her.)

Crazy (non) Client: (sounding mildly nonplussed) Hmmm. But just look at how well these go together. This granite and this wall tile....(sigh) There's just so much choice...I'm not sure if it would be better in the long run to....

I don't turn around, I don't acknowledge her, but she keeps asking questions, keeps chatting away. I'm not even angry anymore - more baffled, really. And curious. Quite fascinated. How does this woman get on the world? How does her husband cope? She must definitely fit somewhere along the autism continuum. .....

And she's still chatting when I stand up, excuse myself, and leave the office. I go out back into the workshop where I quickly explain the situation to Hilary, in muffled whispers.

Hilary: Really? (He goes to the door and peeks through at her) She's going now, I think. She's collecting her tiles and her folder. She looks a bit pissed off.

We peek through the door watching (and giggling quietly) as she departs in a huff.

No-one can tell me working in the kitchen industry isn't exciting.