It hasn't rained in Adelaide for quite a long time. We're in a severe drought. But for the last 2 days, the watery stuff has once again begun falling from the sky.
Its also the first time that its rained since I've been working in the CBD. I had to break out the umbrella.
So did a lot of other people.
Apparently a lot of them are shorter than me. Or maybe its just that all the people that were giving me the shits were all shorter than me! I'm not overly tall but there's a good reason why I noticed all the people that were shorter than me. They seemed to maange to aim the rim of their umbrellas at my head and expected me to get out of the way.
Now having to dodge an umbrella in the rain is fine, its part of the fun. But what really got my blood boiling was the number of people that insisted on walking under the minimal bit of shelter provided by building verandahs and porches and so on with their umbrellas up!
Hello! It doesn't rain on you when you are under the shelter. If you have an umbrella and feel the need to keep it up, then when you see 300m of shelter, go walk in the bloody rain! Or, radical as this might seem as a concept, put it down whilst you're under the shelter. Don't keep trying to take my eyes out because you're ignorant, please!
I mean, the thing that topped it all off for me was the woman who was standing in line for the ATM. Under shelter. With her umbrella up. Lucky I'm such a nice guy or I might have found a new way for her to hold it ... arrrrrgh!
Apr 27, 2007
Apr 22, 2007
Snot Breath
When I sleep, I typically sleep on my side, facing away from Caroline. But occasionally I turn over and sleep on my other side. Because of the shoulder injury I’ve been having to sleep on my back in order to get any rest at all. Its simply not comfortable to lie on it, nor is it any good lying the other way as it rests in a position that causes significant pain.
Last night I woke up at 3am for no particular reason and had to lie there, flat on my back, attempting to return to the land of sleepy bo-bo’s.
As I lay there, I became aware of something that I’ve had occasion to notice before, but generally forget about. I was being breathed on.
When I sleep on my side, I tend to tuck my head towards my chest a little, such that my nostrils point toward my chest. When Caroline sleeps on her side, she tends to sleep with her head tilted up, which means that her nostrils tend to be aimed away from her. And if she’s facing me, that’s where they point.
There’s something quite disconcerting about lying in bed and getting little rhythmic puffs of air from your bed mates’ nostrils! Especially when you’re lying there, trying not to think about such things so that you can get back to sleep. At least it makes one glad not to be sleeping next to the legendary Snot Dragon of McFillispire!
Of course, when I realised that there was also a little sleep nail-biting going on, I had to nudge her away so that I didn’t quietly dissolve into my own personal insanity before sleep could claim me.
Last night I woke up at 3am for no particular reason and had to lie there, flat on my back, attempting to return to the land of sleepy bo-bo’s.
As I lay there, I became aware of something that I’ve had occasion to notice before, but generally forget about. I was being breathed on.
When I sleep on my side, I tend to tuck my head towards my chest a little, such that my nostrils point toward my chest. When Caroline sleeps on her side, she tends to sleep with her head tilted up, which means that her nostrils tend to be aimed away from her. And if she’s facing me, that’s where they point.
There’s something quite disconcerting about lying in bed and getting little rhythmic puffs of air from your bed mates’ nostrils! Especially when you’re lying there, trying not to think about such things so that you can get back to sleep. At least it makes one glad not to be sleeping next to the legendary Snot Dragon of McFillispire!
Of course, when I realised that there was also a little sleep nail-biting going on, I had to nudge her away so that I didn’t quietly dissolve into my own personal insanity before sleep could claim me.
Apr 19, 2007
Orange?
Throughout my life, there's been a little constancy. All the toothpaste I've ever had (well at least that I remember) has always had a mint flavour.
Caroline bought some new toothpaste a while back.
It had a bright orange packet, which I thought was rather odd.
Well let me just go on record as saying that the packet has got nothing on the strangely orange-minty tasting toothpaste!
Its just wrong I tell you!
Caroline bought some new toothpaste a while back.
It had a bright orange packet, which I thought was rather odd.
Well let me just go on record as saying that the packet has got nothing on the strangely orange-minty tasting toothpaste!
Its just wrong I tell you!
Apr 13, 2007
Splatman - the aftermath
I had to post this, because it hurts so damn much, but when I am dressed, there's no evidence that I'm not putting on the whole thing.
Apr 12, 2007
Canadia - An Update
Ok, so I think its about time that I provided an update on what’s going on, given that I have a little more information than previously. And I stress, a little.
Probably the most important piece of information is that the timing of our move has come forward. It is now looking certain(ish) that we will be leaving these fair shores at the end of June. We will initially relocate to Fort McMurray in Alberta where I’ll be assisting with the implementation process of our contract with Suncor.
We’ll be there for a couple of months and then move down to Sarnia, Ontario in about September in time for the kids to start school. Yes, those crazy Canadians start their school year in September. I’m sure it’s the least of the oddities that we’ll have to get used to.
Like I said, it’s a little bit more information. The timing is at least getting more definite. Apparently, they’ve even nearly finished writing the position description for me role. Once that’s done, I even hope to get a letter that might outline the little things like what I’ll be paid for this grand adventure!
But one thing at a time.
Probably the most important piece of information is that the timing of our move has come forward. It is now looking certain(ish) that we will be leaving these fair shores at the end of June. We will initially relocate to Fort McMurray in Alberta where I’ll be assisting with the implementation process of our contract with Suncor.
We’ll be there for a couple of months and then move down to Sarnia, Ontario in about September in time for the kids to start school. Yes, those crazy Canadians start their school year in September. I’m sure it’s the least of the oddities that we’ll have to get used to.
Like I said, it’s a little bit more information. The timing is at least getting more definite. Apparently, they’ve even nearly finished writing the position description for me role. Once that’s done, I even hope to get a letter that might outline the little things like what I’ll be paid for this grand adventure!
But one thing at a time.
Call me Splatman!
Whilst on holidays my mate decided that he and his family would take their bikes into Moonta and ride around a track that’s there, letting me know that there were some jumps and things that we could have some fun on if I’d like to come along.
Sounded like a fun plan to me and so I rode Caroline’s mountain bike in to have some fun with them.
We rode around the tracks for awhile until we came to the bit of the park where people had put the jumps.
I’d been looking forward to this bit of the ride, but hadn’t seen the jumps before and so didn’t really know what to expect. When I saw them I have to say I took one look and thought, “Oh well, buggered if I am going to kill myself, they look way to advanced for me.”
So we settled for a bit of a ride around and some minor little jumps that we could handle.
Of course, as time went on we got a little more adventurous. First it was the attempt to go down the incline that looked rather steep and had something of a drop off in the middle of it. No problem, that was fun. Though when my mate tried it, he did kind of forget to turn at the end and finish up in a tree. Unscathed though.
Then there was the challenge that I issued … see how far you can jump off that. I thought my mate’s attempt was pretty lame. Then I had a go. I easily cleared what he had jumped, but kind of landed front wheel first and had to dump the bike as I leapt off over the handle bars, much to the amusement of everyone (My mate, his wife and their 2 kids) that was watching.
It was at that point that Belinda issued us with the warning, “you guys have to remember that you’re not 15, that you’re getting up in your 30’s!” So we settled for some more sedate activity after that.
Then we decided to go and get ice-cream. But just before we did, Jase went down a slope and over a jump … one of the scary looking ones. Though he braked at the jump and just rolled over, not getting any air.
I decided to have one last shot at glory before we left and went over the same jump. I didn’t use any brakes. For a few brief moments, everything was exhilarating. I got air.
The next thing that I recall (and I remember this extraordinarily clearly) I was headed for the ground.
Head first.
I had just enough time to think, “roll” and tucked my head and attempted to get my shoulder under in order to roll with the fall. I succeeded in not hitting my head, but landed with the full weight of my body on my shoulder. Ouchies. The bike (according to later recounts of events) sailed over the top of me to land somewhere beyond my crumpled form.
To demonstrate, I’ve added this little pictorial representation of the event (click to enlarge):
At that point, Belinda dropped her bike and ran over, full of concern. Jason of course, just pissed himself laughing.
As my heart attempted to slow from something like a billion beats a second, I stood up and tried to assess the damage, spitting dirt from my mouth. The shoulder was bloody sore, but I thought that I would survive without too much drama. After a few minutes we decided that we’d ride off and get that ice-cream and laugh of my suicidal tendencies.
But as I rode the bike towards the road, the first two little bumps that I hit demonstrated to me that I might need just a little more assessment and intense pain flared through my shoulder. Yep, a trip to the hospital was called for.
Fortunately, following x-rays, a pethidine injection in my arse and some rather bashful explanations of what I’d done, it was revealed that nothing was broken and that it appeared that I’d just bruised everything rather severely.
That of course did nothing to assuage the guilt that I felt from having done something utterly stupid that now meant that Caroline would be faced with packing up all our camping equipment when it was time to go as I watched as a spectator in a sling! Following that little thought came things like, “I guess that’s it for the start of the soccer season.”
Its now almost a week since I did this and I am constantly amazed by the number of ways in which this shoulder has limited me. Initially my arm was in a sling and I became ‘that guy that fell off his bike’ around the caravan park. Its amazing how fast word travels. Sam couldn’t quite understand how everyone that saw me seemed to know that I’d managed to do it falling off a bike.
Currently the arm is improving, but it still hurts like buggery with certain movements. Tying up my shoes is still a massive challenge (enough that I’ve asked Caroline to do it for me). But I have moved a long way from the initial challenges I faced when I could barely move the arm (less than 20 degree swing).
The first night I realised that I was still variously covered in dirt from the crash and that a shower would be in order. Of course with one arm immobile, even getting undressed was going to present massive difficulties for me. The obvious solution was to get Caroline to help.
Of course, we were in a caravan park at the time, with communal (though not unisexual) showering and toilet facilities. So the debate ensued as to whether we were better off sneaking Caroline into the men’s with me, or me into the women’s with Caroline.
In the end I held out and we went to the mens. We checked that there was no one in there (made sure it was quite late at night too) and then hustled into the shower.
That was fine, except for the fact that as soon as we were in there, there was an inexplicable late night rush for the showers! Within moments, went from being the only ones in there, to having every shower occupied and someone standing just outside our stall waiting!
We took our time, but once we were finished, the other people were still going and someone was waiting. I told Caroline just to walk out but she was too embarrassed to do that, so she knelt down on the floor, looking under the stalls to see when the feet disappeared so that we could make a dash for it!
Finally someone else left their shower and after he’d spent an inordinate amount of time dressing and preening we were free to go.
We quickly hustled ourselves out the door only to run into an old guy just about to come in!
Caroline was a little mortified, but the sling on my arm along with Caroline’s rushed explanation gave credit to the fact that it was not ‘hanky panky’ kind of visit. (We’ll have to save that for next time?).
Sounded like a fun plan to me and so I rode Caroline’s mountain bike in to have some fun with them.
We rode around the tracks for awhile until we came to the bit of the park where people had put the jumps.
I’d been looking forward to this bit of the ride, but hadn’t seen the jumps before and so didn’t really know what to expect. When I saw them I have to say I took one look and thought, “Oh well, buggered if I am going to kill myself, they look way to advanced for me.”
So we settled for a bit of a ride around and some minor little jumps that we could handle.
Of course, as time went on we got a little more adventurous. First it was the attempt to go down the incline that looked rather steep and had something of a drop off in the middle of it. No problem, that was fun. Though when my mate tried it, he did kind of forget to turn at the end and finish up in a tree. Unscathed though.
Then there was the challenge that I issued … see how far you can jump off that. I thought my mate’s attempt was pretty lame. Then I had a go. I easily cleared what he had jumped, but kind of landed front wheel first and had to dump the bike as I leapt off over the handle bars, much to the amusement of everyone (My mate, his wife and their 2 kids) that was watching.
It was at that point that Belinda issued us with the warning, “you guys have to remember that you’re not 15, that you’re getting up in your 30’s!” So we settled for some more sedate activity after that.
Then we decided to go and get ice-cream. But just before we did, Jase went down a slope and over a jump … one of the scary looking ones. Though he braked at the jump and just rolled over, not getting any air.
I decided to have one last shot at glory before we left and went over the same jump. I didn’t use any brakes. For a few brief moments, everything was exhilarating. I got air.
The next thing that I recall (and I remember this extraordinarily clearly) I was headed for the ground.
Head first.
I had just enough time to think, “roll” and tucked my head and attempted to get my shoulder under in order to roll with the fall. I succeeded in not hitting my head, but landed with the full weight of my body on my shoulder. Ouchies. The bike (according to later recounts of events) sailed over the top of me to land somewhere beyond my crumpled form.
To demonstrate, I’ve added this little pictorial representation of the event (click to enlarge):
At that point, Belinda dropped her bike and ran over, full of concern. Jason of course, just pissed himself laughing.
As my heart attempted to slow from something like a billion beats a second, I stood up and tried to assess the damage, spitting dirt from my mouth. The shoulder was bloody sore, but I thought that I would survive without too much drama. After a few minutes we decided that we’d ride off and get that ice-cream and laugh of my suicidal tendencies.
But as I rode the bike towards the road, the first two little bumps that I hit demonstrated to me that I might need just a little more assessment and intense pain flared through my shoulder. Yep, a trip to the hospital was called for.
Fortunately, following x-rays, a pethidine injection in my arse and some rather bashful explanations of what I’d done, it was revealed that nothing was broken and that it appeared that I’d just bruised everything rather severely.
That of course did nothing to assuage the guilt that I felt from having done something utterly stupid that now meant that Caroline would be faced with packing up all our camping equipment when it was time to go as I watched as a spectator in a sling! Following that little thought came things like, “I guess that’s it for the start of the soccer season.”
Its now almost a week since I did this and I am constantly amazed by the number of ways in which this shoulder has limited me. Initially my arm was in a sling and I became ‘that guy that fell off his bike’ around the caravan park. Its amazing how fast word travels. Sam couldn’t quite understand how everyone that saw me seemed to know that I’d managed to do it falling off a bike.
Currently the arm is improving, but it still hurts like buggery with certain movements. Tying up my shoes is still a massive challenge (enough that I’ve asked Caroline to do it for me). But I have moved a long way from the initial challenges I faced when I could barely move the arm (less than 20 degree swing).
The first night I realised that I was still variously covered in dirt from the crash and that a shower would be in order. Of course with one arm immobile, even getting undressed was going to present massive difficulties for me. The obvious solution was to get Caroline to help.
Of course, we were in a caravan park at the time, with communal (though not unisexual) showering and toilet facilities. So the debate ensued as to whether we were better off sneaking Caroline into the men’s with me, or me into the women’s with Caroline.
In the end I held out and we went to the mens. We checked that there was no one in there (made sure it was quite late at night too) and then hustled into the shower.
That was fine, except for the fact that as soon as we were in there, there was an inexplicable late night rush for the showers! Within moments, went from being the only ones in there, to having every shower occupied and someone standing just outside our stall waiting!
We took our time, but once we were finished, the other people were still going and someone was waiting. I told Caroline just to walk out but she was too embarrassed to do that, so she knelt down on the floor, looking under the stalls to see when the feet disappeared so that we could make a dash for it!
Finally someone else left their shower and after he’d spent an inordinate amount of time dressing and preening we were free to go.
We quickly hustled ourselves out the door only to run into an old guy just about to come in!
Caroline was a little mortified, but the sling on my arm along with Caroline’s rushed explanation gave credit to the fact that it was not ‘hanky panky’ kind of visit. (We’ll have to save that for next time?).
Apr 11, 2007
Zoom Zoom
Over the years, the Easter holiday has become the traditional point at which training wheels are removed from the kids’ bikes. This year was to be no different with Emily having reached the point where that freedom was ready to be experienced.
Unlike her brothers, Emily had had something of a head start. When the boys took off on their first momentous journey down the grassy slope, they were experiencing two wheel freedom for the first time. Emily had the advantage of a couple of drive-way forays with either Caroline or myself dutifully tagging along behind to catch her when the balance failed.
And unlike her brothers, who spent days here before suffering through various degrees of cajoling, coaxing and encouragement to get them to allow me to remove the wheels, Emily was as keen as mustard.
Initially, upon our arrival, she was just keen to have me ride around the single circuit that makes up the caravan park whilst she rolled along with the training wheels in place. But after a single circuit with her it became evident that the noise of the plastic wheels on the rough and aged bitumen was going to quickly lead to early onset insanity. So I suggested that we remove the wheels. Glee ensued.
This of course meant that rather than riding around the park with her, I was reduced to jogging along behind her, occasionally catching her as she wobbled excessively or alternately just telling her to watch where she was going. For someone that was riding on two wheels for essentially the first time, she had an amazing propensity to turn her head at 90 degrees (or more) to the direction which she was travelling so that she could talk to me about how well she was doing!
She’s taken to the bike beautifully and its now become a not uncommon sight to see the little pink thing trundling along on her little pink bike calling out “Hello!” or “Look how clever I am!” to random strangers about the park whilst one or two cars crawl along behind her, waiting for a chance to get past!
Its amazing just how quickly she went from needing someone to help her start to pushing herself along with one foot until she rolled enough to lift both of them off the ground and start pedalling!
That first night, I was sitting watching the world pass, the sun having already set, thinking that the kids were just about ready for bed when to my utter amazement, around the corner came Emily on her bike, happily just going for a quick little ride in the dark!
Unlike her brothers, Emily had had something of a head start. When the boys took off on their first momentous journey down the grassy slope, they were experiencing two wheel freedom for the first time. Emily had the advantage of a couple of drive-way forays with either Caroline or myself dutifully tagging along behind to catch her when the balance failed.
And unlike her brothers, who spent days here before suffering through various degrees of cajoling, coaxing and encouragement to get them to allow me to remove the wheels, Emily was as keen as mustard.
Initially, upon our arrival, she was just keen to have me ride around the single circuit that makes up the caravan park whilst she rolled along with the training wheels in place. But after a single circuit with her it became evident that the noise of the plastic wheels on the rough and aged bitumen was going to quickly lead to early onset insanity. So I suggested that we remove the wheels. Glee ensued.
This of course meant that rather than riding around the park with her, I was reduced to jogging along behind her, occasionally catching her as she wobbled excessively or alternately just telling her to watch where she was going. For someone that was riding on two wheels for essentially the first time, she had an amazing propensity to turn her head at 90 degrees (or more) to the direction which she was travelling so that she could talk to me about how well she was doing!
She’s taken to the bike beautifully and its now become a not uncommon sight to see the little pink thing trundling along on her little pink bike calling out “Hello!” or “Look how clever I am!” to random strangers about the park whilst one or two cars crawl along behind her, waiting for a chance to get past!
Its amazing just how quickly she went from needing someone to help her start to pushing herself along with one foot until she rolled enough to lift both of them off the ground and start pedalling!
That first night, I was sitting watching the world pass, the sun having already set, thinking that the kids were just about ready for bed when to my utter amazement, around the corner came Emily on her bike, happily just going for a quick little ride in the dark!
Apr 10, 2007
The Magpie
Its funny when you watch your kids grow and develop their personalities just how varied they become when they draw their genetic make-up from the same place. They have their similarities, but there are idiosyncrasies there as well.
Kids like to collect stuff, that’s a given. Certainly all of our kids do. But Sam is the magpie in the family. He’s the one that will always bring something home. I can live with that, but it’s the things that he decides to bring home that never ceases to amaze me.
I’ve never met someone with such a penchant for collecting crap! We spend two hours at Michael’s cricket after Sam finishes on a Saturday. That’s two hours in which he is able to scour the surrounding area for something fun and interesting.
Like the piece of rusty steel that obviously wasn’t any good for its intended purpose (or for any new purpose either (as far as I could see)) any more. I can’t remember how many times I asked him not to bring it home, but I wasn’t happy when I stepped out the back door and tripped over it!
Last week he found a couple of scraps of a watch band. Well they absolutely had to come home! I mean that wasn’t just junk, it was shiny junk.
It doesn’t matter where we go, Sam finds something to bring home, whether it’s a bottle top, a stick, a rock, or the claw of a crab that’s caught his fancy, its coming with us.
And the really amazing thing is, that once it gets home, he doesn’t necessarily lose interest in it. And the most likely place you’ll find the item at some later date? In his bed! I’ve never seen a child so happy to sleep on a fraction of his bed whilst the rest is full of accumulated childhood treasures.
Sometimes I can see the fascination with an object and I know that I’m just being a stuffy old bugger because I don’t want the crap in my house that is the end result, but seriously, you have to see some of this stuff to see just how crappy it is!
Having said that, I do love the boy dearly!
Kids like to collect stuff, that’s a given. Certainly all of our kids do. But Sam is the magpie in the family. He’s the one that will always bring something home. I can live with that, but it’s the things that he decides to bring home that never ceases to amaze me.
I’ve never met someone with such a penchant for collecting crap! We spend two hours at Michael’s cricket after Sam finishes on a Saturday. That’s two hours in which he is able to scour the surrounding area for something fun and interesting.
Like the piece of rusty steel that obviously wasn’t any good for its intended purpose (or for any new purpose either (as far as I could see)) any more. I can’t remember how many times I asked him not to bring it home, but I wasn’t happy when I stepped out the back door and tripped over it!
Last week he found a couple of scraps of a watch band. Well they absolutely had to come home! I mean that wasn’t just junk, it was shiny junk.
It doesn’t matter where we go, Sam finds something to bring home, whether it’s a bottle top, a stick, a rock, or the claw of a crab that’s caught his fancy, its coming with us.
And the really amazing thing is, that once it gets home, he doesn’t necessarily lose interest in it. And the most likely place you’ll find the item at some later date? In his bed! I’ve never seen a child so happy to sleep on a fraction of his bed whilst the rest is full of accumulated childhood treasures.
Sometimes I can see the fascination with an object and I know that I’m just being a stuffy old bugger because I don’t want the crap in my house that is the end result, but seriously, you have to see some of this stuff to see just how crappy it is!
Having said that, I do love the boy dearly!
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