On the Waterfront

We want to buy this house. It is stonkingly ugly, but it's in an amazing street, right on the edge of a national park, with a big garden ... Of course we can't afford it. It's not actually a waterfront at all, but the park it looks onto is on the water, so Andrew claims it IS a waterfront.

We also looked at this place - beautiful, dilapidated and the victim of a truly terrible subdivision.

The Wedding Singer

Ha ha. Just joking. There was no wedding singer. But it was a lovely wedding. (Isn't her dress fab? Mel wore a white one for the ceremony and this gorgeous red and pink Akira for the reception.) I did have to speak, which I was dreading, but apparently I did ok.

My Best Friend's Wedding

I am quite aware that it would be impossible to walk in these shoes. But aren't they amazing? I think I read a comment from someone, somewhere, saying that they'd put them on a shelf to display instead of wearing them (if they could afford them, which is another matter altogether).

I have realised that my interest in clothes and shoes is entirely seasonal. I hate summer fashion, being a pale-skinned, freckly person who doesn't look good in shorts and has an allergy to summer frocks. Winter is another matter altogether. Boots, scarves, hats, trousers, woollen things and darker colours ... all good.


And now I have to take that all back because I bought a very green, very 'spring-ish' dress at Akira last week, to wear to my friend Phil's wedding. It's the same fabric as this dress, but it's just a plain sleeveless shift, without the sculptural stuff at the top. To cover my tuckshop lady arms, I shall wear a vintage lace jacket that belonged to Andrew's grandmother.

A River Runs Through It

That would be the Parramatta River ...

On Saturday Holden ran in the Kings Cross Country, placing respectably but not astonishingly.

In the afternoon we went out on our cousin's boat, down the river. You can see that the kids were having a horrid time. I fished for ages (unsucessfully but happily) and even went for a swim (trying not to think about pollution).

And now it's rainy and horrid and I have too much work and not enough time.

Mystic Pizza

There's nothing bloody mystic about it. Pizza, the takeaway variety, is what happens when you haven't had more than a couple of hours at home at a stretch for over a week.

I haven't even had time to take and upload photos. Remind me why I needed a camera?

1. Thursday last week Holden won his school cross country.
2. Friday last week I worked in the city for a client, then had to dash early to take Phoebe to hospital. We got home shortly after 11pm. We're still not sure what the problem is.
3. Saturday Holden's team won their baseball grand final. Then the children dispersed and we drove to Bundanoon for a friend's birthday (yes, I did the food for it too - don't you make pate at 7am on a Saturday?).
4. Sunday we drove back from Bundanoon in time for another friend's birthday.
5. Monday. Let me see, it's all blurring now. I think I went into the city. Oh, and then we had Andrew's father's retirement dinner (yes, dinner out on a Monday night, guaranteed to stuff up your week).
6. Tuesday. I'm pretty sure I went into the city again. Yes, and then had Holden's parent-teacher conference. And then took Phoebe to Kumon.
7. Wednesday. Phoebe in for dental surgery. This was, tragically, the highlight of the week. The procedure was successful, and watching her lurch around like a drunk zombie afterwards was excruciatingly funny. Don't worry, I did dote on her, I just laughed at the same time.
8. Today. Is today Thursday? I went into the city again. I got home at 6.40pm, to a filthy house and a child missing in transit from soccer. He got home at 7.30pm after his coach took him on a tour of the Inner West.

And I ordered pizza. Now I'm just waiting for Andrew to ring me and say 'can you pick me up from uni?'. Who could blame me if I sighed deeply?

More of the same ahead ...

One Hour Photo

Bugger the GFC. Life without a camera is just WRONG. So this one is on its way to me ... I have high hopes that it will reach me before the weekend.

Little Miss Lumpy Lymph Nodes is back at school today. She wanted to go, I didn't want her to go, Doctor said she could go. Hmmm.

I am helping with the food for a small birthday bash on Saturday. I came up with a menu involving roast rolled loin of pork and quince and pear crumble and various other delightful things, only to be told it's not a sitdown affair. So I shall have to make party food instead, which is also fun. Stuck for a dessert, though, as a cake is being made by Someone Else ...

PS - IT JUST ARRIVED!!! My brand new, lovely lovely lovely camera.

Wall Street

Blind rabbit. Tick. Sick child. Tick. Sudden influx of work when said child has to stay home from school. Tick. Bloody hell.

It's Sod's Law, isn't it? I've been moaning about lack of work, then the moment I get told that Phoebe can't go to school, it FLOODS in.

Poor child has a golf-ball sized swollen lymph node on her neck. Blood tests, blah blah. Actually, right now she is sitting on the couch, watching Mamma Mia, singing and screaming with laughter and rewinding her favourite bits, so don't feel TOO sorry for her.

Feel sorry for ME instead. I'd much rather be watching Mamma Mia with her than writing about margin lending and structured products ...