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| Friday, December 30, 2005 |
| Beachy goodness |
Yesterday, Ata and Mr Ata went to Goolwa to visit Mr Ata's Best Man and his wife. Best Man's Wife's family hire a house at Goolwa every year at Christmas, but this is the first time Ata & Mr Ata have gone to visit.
Friends-Around-The-Corner were due to collect Ata & Mr Ata at 0900. The drive to Goolwa is about two hours. At 0845, Ata located Mr Ata. What was he doing? Printing a sheet of poker instructions from the computer.
"Are you ready to go?" sayeth Ata.
"Yes" replies Mr Ata. Ata is immediately suspicious.
"Have you packed everything you need?" she presses.
"Yes," insists Mr Ata. "I just need to get a towel." Ata is not convinced. "And my bathers." Ata narrows her eyes, still suspicious. "And some toiletries, and my book and..."
Ata waves her hands in the air, pleading. "Well! Friends-Around-The-Corner will be here in a few minutes! What are you doing?!"
Mr Ata turns back to the computer. "In a minute. I'm just printing this..."
Finally, Ata and Mr Ata are pretty much ready to go. "When are they picking you up?" queries Ata's Mother.
Ata glances at the clock. It reads 0915. "0900" says Ata. Ata's Father laughs.
At the dot of 0918, F-A-C (Friends-Around-the-Corner) arrive. After some bundling of baggage, we are on our way.
After a stop to wash the car, buy morning tea, and another stop for coffee, we are really on our way.
The house in Goolwa is full of family. We sit on the balcony and look over the sand dunes to the sparkling sea while we eat rolls & salad for lunch. Ata very carefully does not mention whale sperm. When lunch is eaten and Mr Ata and Best Man have had a couple of rounds of pool, we head for the beach. F-A-C decide to wander the streets of Goolwa instead. Ata has new bathers, purchased the day before specifically for this occasion, so she is damn well going swimming.
The sand is beige, overlaid with sweeping arcs of white. The beach is flat and shallow, and the waves run a long way up to arrange and re-arrange the white arcs. Something in the sand sparkles, so the wet beach glitters like a constellation of tiny ideas. The water is crystal, even where the surf has picked up sand and foams brown. Each grain of sand is sharp and clear, dancing and scintillating in the water. The waves are fairly big. Ata likes waves. She walks slowly into the water, letting each wave wet her an inch higher. The sea is sharp and cool. Best Man's Wife is keeping an eye on her husband, lest he decide to dunk her, but the boys have gone far out into the water. Best Man's Wife's Brother is temporarily lost in the waves, and the others go to find him. As it turns out, he has reached the sand bar, so when the waves recede for a moment long enough to locate him in their troughs, he is standing in waist-deep water. The boys head out to join him and bodysurf. Ata does not care to bodysurf. She likes to leap into the waves, best of all when it can be timed so the crest of the breaking wave slaps into her chest, sending arcs of water spraying all around. One wave catches her by surprise. A big one, it is too late to dive under and too late to ride over - the crest breaks just in front of her and Ata takes a run through the spin cycle. Tumbling around and over in all directions, Ata knows for a moment just how Falling Bubble Girl felt. The ride finishes before breath runs out, and ends with a bumped forehead, a bruised knee, and Ata spitting seawater and laughing. When the waves tire her, Ata walks out of the water feeling like a sea sprite, sunkissed and wet. Everyone lazes about on the sand a while. One of the boys collects a few cockles with sand and water in an upturned frisbee, and we watch them siphon water through themselves. If you hold them up by the bottom of the shell just above the sand, the muscular foot reaches out and tugs against the wet sand until you drop it and it can bury itself again.
There is a kiosk further down the beach. Everyone eats icecream before walking back to the house. Is there anything better than a shower and unsalted dry clothes after swimming in the ocean? At the house there is more games of pool, and eating the lollies F-A-C bought on their wander through Goolwa. Arrangements are made to spend New Year's Eve at F-A-C's house.
By the time we get home it is 2130. Ata's bruised knee is sore and Mr Ata is slightly sunburnt. Ata's parents are staying in the Barossa overnight, so the house is quiet and only the cats greet the homecomers.
Sometimes Ata forgets why she loved living by the sea so much.
And sometimes she remembers. |
posted by Ata @ 10:33 am  |
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| Wednesday, December 28, 2005 |
| Let the garden bloom |
I may have mentioned my level of gardening skill before. Let's not go into detail again.
My dear mother is a fanatic gardener. Whilst giving me a lecture on the Virtues of Watering yesterday - interspersed with my pleas for leniency on the grounds of recent rain (well, alright, rain within the last fortnight) - she stepped backward. On to one of my poor suffering Ellendale Poole Grevilleas. The one that had only recently recovered from accidental glyphosphating.
This necessitated a visit to the State Flora Nursery. Handily, we were passing in that very direction on the way back from delivering a very satisfied little sister to Camp. So we picked up another Ellendale Poole. Well, a couple. And some Flora Masons. And three Red Wings, just to round things out. Oh, and some more pymmelias. Because the first one did so well.
So then there was much digging of holes and planting. Ata's Father removed the oleander which I had been meaning to get around to removing one of these days. And the pomegranate, also meaning-to-one-of-these etc. There was much discussion of sprays and mulch and watering and edging to keep the kikuyu down. {shakes fist} Damn you, original tenants! What evil being convinced you to plant kikuyu! On the upside, it's very hard to kill and doesn't take much water and grows quickly. On the downside, it's damn hard to kill, doesn't die off even with heavy water restrictions, and grows very nearly fast enough to watch. Certainly fast enough to smother anything planted nearby. Mr Ata got an invitation from Friend-Around-The-Corner to play basketball, and vanished quickly before being asked to dig anything. Although he offered to bring cordial out before he left.
If I was really thinking clearly, we would have bought an apartment in the city rather than a house in the suburbs. But then what would Ata's Mother do when she visited? |
| posted by Ata @ 8:48 pm |
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| Tuesday, December 27, 2005 |
| Aftermath |
Yes, I am aware this places me in the "My owner is crazy/cruel/verging on insanity" basket, but hey - why have pets if you can't put stuff on them. Here is Bosco enjoying his Christmas present.
Roswell doesn't seem as impressed with hers. Although the glazed expression is actually due to the fact that my parents & sister had just arrived - Ros doesn't deal well with visitors, and she was gazing rigidly ahead, apparently hoping that if she didn't look at them, they might cease to exist.
Ata was looking MUCH happier than Roswell, because her parents brought with them a Christmas Gift from Ata's Little Brother #2 - the Firefly DVD set. Ata had seen it on special during the week, and thought to herself that it would be nice to own it, but decided to do without. AND there was new earrings from Ata's Little Sister. Mr Ata bought a combined Birthday/Christmas present - a practice Ata tries to discourage, but this time he'll get away with it. The gift was a 1GB MP3 player, which Mr Ata had spent several weeks researching (he doesn't do things by halves) under the explanation that he wanted to buy one himself. Christmas and Boxing Days were BUSY BUSY BUSY, what with church and lunches (both of which Ata cooked for - Christmas Day was at the in-laws house, but Ata supplied roasted vegebles. Boxing Day lunch was at Ata's house with Ata's family and her parents-in-law, MmmMMMMMM lemon roast chicken, brown and juicy) and picking-people-up from the airport, and the traditional Boxing Day movie (Narnia this year), and cleaning up, and more cooking, and finally watching three episodes of Firefly (hooray!) before going to bed. Now Ata feels pretty much like Roswell - all Christmassed out.
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| posted by Ata @ 11:36 am |
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| Saturday, December 24, 2005 |
| Merry Christmas to all! |
Christmas Eve it is. We have had a loverly evening - eating pizza at Adelaide's best pizza place (and that's not just MY opinion) with our Friends-Around-The-Corner. The house is clean - very nearly immaculate - all necessary preparations are complete, and Mr Ata has the whole week between Christmas and New Years off.
Tomorrow it will be the most sedate version of madcap possible (we don't go in for the full hysteria of Christmas Day, here, just a relaxed sort of chaos), but for now there is carols on the TV and smoked cashews in the kitchen, which I must not eat yet! They are for tomorrow! Oh, well, just one maybe. Or two. Then a mug of hot Milo before bed, perhaps.
So from Ata and Mr Ata and Roswell and Bosco: A merry Christmas to all, and to all - good night. |
| posted by Ata @ 10:47 pm |
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| Friday, December 23, 2005 |
| Ata's Shop-a-rama |
I feel like I have been shopping ALL DAY. Which is not so far from the truth, actually.
My Friend-Around-The-Corner and I braved the Central Market to do a big pre-Christmas grocery shop. It was supposed to be 38 degrees today, so it was with some trepidation that we agreed to depart at 10am, hoping to get into the carpark before it filled up.
By the time we actually got to the market, the carpark (which is enormous, and resembles a giant-sized rabbit warren, full of cars instead of rabbits) was full. Or so the sign said, anyway. We took our chances and drove in anyway. Fortunately there was enough people leaving that we got in and got a carpark immediately, just near the escalators. Hooray! First success for the day.
Before getting started with the actual shopping, there were several tasks to be taken care of. Neither of us had thought to bring green shopping bags, so we located Coles and purchased a couple. Then, noting that many of the die-hard Central Marketeers had handy little trolleys, we located a shop selling handy little trolleys and bought one. They were $25, which seemed like a significant investment given that we don't go into the market often, so we went halves. Then Ata, having lost her shopping list somewhere between writing it in the living room and arriving at the markets, had to sit down & write another. So we got a drink and sat down.
Finally, we were ready to begin. After some browsing to establish prices & quality of goods, we settled on a stall to buy most of the vegies from. After loading up with assorted fruit & vegetables, it was back to the car to drop off the goods. Which would have been a simple endeavour, had we remembered on which side of the escalator the car was parked. So, on locating the car, we taunted would-be parkers whilst unloading shopping.
Now it was lunch time. Into the food court we go - and horror of horrors, Ricky's Chicken Rice is closed until January! So we had barbecued lamb with spring onions from Li's Mouth Magic instead. While waiting, I noted the sign on a nearby stall - they boldly advertised, "Your Choice Of Meals!". After lunch, it was once more unto the breach for fruit, then back to the car for more parker-taunting, then a quick circuit again, searching for Kangaroo Island Organic Corn-Fed Chicken. But they were fresh out. My Friend-Around-The-Corner settled for Clare Valley Corn-Fed Chicken (so far as I can tell, the major difference was about $3 a kilo), while I went for Greenslades Grain-Fed. I'm a cheapskate.
By this stage the event was becoming somewhat wearing. After examining ham at three different ham-purveyors, and Friend-Around-The-Corner waiting fruitlessly in line at the butchers for lamb, we decided to throw in the towel, as it were. So we went home for a nap before the Shopping Finale - at the local Westfields Shopping Centre - the Plaza.
Braving the Plaza at Christmas time is a dangerous game, so we kept in short - Darrel Lea for chocolate, House for pretty nut bowls (hey, I had a credit slip that was three years old! You can't keep these things forever!), General Trader for a roasting rack (when did I become the person that spends ten minutes deliberating over roasting racks?), Woolworths for assorted supermarket items, then the butcher for - no! It's too late! It's five past six, and the butcher is SHUT! Do you know what this means? We will have to go shopping tomorrow - CHRISTMAS EVE!
Oh well. At least Friend-Around-The-Corner made it to the Pet Shop on time, so her kitties will eat tonight. And Ata acquired the last element of Mr Ata's Christmas Present. AND a roasting rack.
So on the whole, the day was declared a success. I have laid in enough food to feed - well, at least a family with four assorted children and a childless aunt-and-uncle for the days while the shops are shut. Given that I actually have to feed five adults (seven for Boxing Day), and my Mother will insist on resupplying as soon as the shops open again on Wednesday, I think I'm covered. At least, I've got enough dessert items to last us about a week.
But, darnit, I still have to go to the butcher tomorrow. |
| posted by Ata @ 6:38 pm |
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| Tuesday, December 20, 2005 |
| Summer |
December is the time of year that I remember I've been meaning to get my car airconditioner fixed.
Today I worked in the morning instead of the afternoon. After leaving work, I went Shopping for Mr Ata's Christmas Present - which, by the way, I am having no luck with.
After an hour's driving in a superheated car with no airconditioning, not game to roll the window down because the sun beats in so hard without the protective tinting to shield my delicate skin, Ata is not a happy chicken. Even my new blonde 'do is wilting. I consider stopping at the shops for icypoles, but figure that (a) that would only mean longer 'til I can get home and change my sweaty office clothes, and (b) they'd probaby melt before I could get them in the freezer, and anyway, there's no room in the freezer. So having hauled myself home & indoors, I settle for an enormous glass of green cordial with many, many icecubes.
Half an hour later - temperature restored, I now have a tummyache from having ingested copious quantities of green cordial and icecubes too fast.
I think I shall lie down now. |
| posted by Ata @ 3:16 pm |
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| Sunday, December 18, 2005 |
| Tell me a story #2 |
Once upon a time, in a place far from our own and a forest we have never seen, a boy lived in a small house full of books. He did not live alone, as he kept a pig, named Dobel, for company. During the day the boy tended his vegetable patch, and in the evening he read aloud to Dobel. There were many books to choose from, for although the house was small, books were crammed onto every shelf and stashed under every bench. The boy had lived this way ever since he could remember. Most of the time, he was content. His vegetables kept him fed, his books kept him entertained, and his pig kept him company.
There was only one thing missing.
“Dobel,” the boy would often say, after putting down that night’s book, “I believe I would be as happy as the people in these books if I had a family. A mother and father to look after me, and a brother to play with. Then my life would be truly complete.”
Dobel would just look at the boy and blink, for although he understood, pigs cannot talk, so there was nothing he could say.
One day, a strong wind blew through the forest and rattled the windows on the boy’s small house.
“Dobel,” said the boy, “I believe a storm may be on the way.”
The boy was right. The strong wind grew stronger and stronger, and soon the windows and doors and all the walls of the small house trembled and shook.
“Dobel,” said the boy, “I have never seen winds like this before. I think we would be safer in the cellar.”
The wind blew for a long time. Rain came, and all the boy could hear for a long time was the pounding of wind and water, and the crashing sounds of falling trees. When everything became silent at last, the boy and Dobel came out of the cellar and looked at the flat house. Books were everywhere, and the vegetable patch was no more.
“Oh dear,” said the boy, for he did not know what else to say. Dobel, who could not say anything in any case, stared at the place where the peas used to grow. He had been very fond of peas.
The boy sat and thought for a long time. Then he stood up. “Dobel,” he said, “I have always wanted a family. I cannot live here any more, so I believe that now is as good a time as any to find a family.”
So the boy and the pig left the place they had lived ever since they could remember, and went in search of a family.
It was some time before they saw anyone. Both the boy and Dobel were tired, hungry, and aching all over on the day they came across a small house in an open field. A girl answered the door.
“Hello,” said the boy, “We have walked a very long way in search of a family. Is there one here we could join?”
“I’m sorry,” said the girl, “But I have lived here alone ever since I can remember, with just a flock of chickens to keep me fed and my cat, Elsa, to keep me company. I would be happy for you to share my house, though, if you could help me look after the chickens. You see, I have often read about families, and I have thought that it would be a good thing to at least have a brother.”
“Very well,” said the boy, “but I know nothing about chickens. I can keep a vegetable patch, though.”
The girl agreed. So it was that the boy found a sister, which was at least part of a family. She did not have so many books as he was used to, but he did not mind as he now had a sister to play games with in the evening. Dobel and Elsa became friends also, and entertained themselves with games of chasey.
And they all lived happily ever after.
Mostly. |
| posted by Ata @ 7:44 pm |
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| Friday, December 16, 2005 |
| Stupid Tax |
Ata's Little Brother #1 (MLB#1) moved to China this year. A couple of months ago, he realised he had not filed his tax return - he realised this on the last night before they had to be in. October whateveritwas. Anyway, after several hurried phone calls from China, he had all the details he needed to file the return.
The other day, Ata got an email. Have we had any mail for MLB#1 from the Tax Office? Because he has not seen anything deposited in his account.
Now, Ata has been receiving mail for MLB#1 since he moved to China. This was not an arrangement - it just started turning up here one day, so we put it in a bag in a cupboard with a whole lot of MLB's other stuff. It seemed rude to start opening his mail unrequested.
So Ata ferreted through the Ye Olde Bagge of Maile, and found his Notice of Assessment. She emailed back to indicate that yes, there was a cheque from the ATO, and would he like her to deposit it in his bank account?
Having received the instruction to go ahead with the deposition, Ata was tearing the cheque off the assessment notice just now when she realised - it was not a cheque. It was a request for payment. Which was due on the 5th of December.
Ata called the ATO for assistance. Would her little brother in China be charged interest on unpaid tax, and how could he organise payment of the tax? The back of the page had the instruction to call a 1800 number for more information on direct-depositing payments. Ata did not think MLB#1 could access Australian 1800 numbers in China. At the ATO customer service department, Ata got an Indian Guy. Ata does not have an issue with dealing with Indian Guys. She does not even protest strongly against the outsourcing of vital customer service departments to Delhi. But still, she was not entirely certain that she could get the right information to and from Indian Guy, when it was so difficult to make herself understood. The upshot is, MLB may be required to pay interest. Indian Guy was not going to be pinned down on that point. But he can pay the bill through BPay.
Now Ata feels bad for not having opened the mail when it came. But MLB#1 is, after all, a Big Boy - if he's allowed out of the country by himself, surely he's old enough to either ask for his mail to be opened, or email to check on the status of the Tax Return earlier? Surely I am not a Bad Sister? Please?
I haven't even sent his Christmas Tim-Tams yet. |
| posted by Ata @ 1:27 pm |
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| Sunday, December 11, 2005 |
| Fixed |
Hey! Look at that! It's back at the top!
Myo is clearly brilliant. An enormous sloppy kiss for Myo.
I do not know why we are with you-know-who. We just are. Must there always be reasons? It could be because Mr Ata's Work pays for part of our internet connection.
But on to Ata-related things, because I much prefer talking about myself to any other topic. Well, Roswell-related things, anyway. My apologies to Skywolf - this is going to be entirely about my cats.
There is no food. A distinct presence of famine in the cat-food department. They eat an extra-special-highly-expensive-only-available-through-the-vet food, on account of Bosco having food sensitivities. He rubs his bum on the carpet if we give him the wrong stuff. And have you ever tried to feed two cats seperate foods? Eventually, he gets into the Ros biscuits. So we feed them both the aforementioned special food. This has to be ordered in by the vet. Last week, they were running low, so we ordered some more. We did not find out until Friday that it was backordered. Sadly, the beasties ran out of Special Biscuits on Friday night. So on Friday afternoon, Ata made an emergency trip to her favourite pet shop (they have bunnies and guinea pigs in an open pen so customers can pat them.... awww. They're so soft and cuddly, and sociable on account of being regularly patted....) to see what they had in stock.
"Ahah!" thought Ata, on spying the bag of "Sensitive Skin" biscuits. "Perhaps Bosco's problem does not lie in Sensitive Innards so much as in Sensitive Skin... he did used to scratch a lot." So Ata purchased a small bag of Sensitive Skin biscuits, in the hopes it would cause the least problems for Bosco while we await the Special Biscuits.
The venture was half a success. Bosco has been happily munching the Sensitive Skin biscuits, with no evidence of bottom-scooting (a very unsociable habit, I might add). Roswell, however, has gone on strike. She likes the Special Biscuits. They were little and yellow. The Sensitive Skin biscuits are round and brown. Roswell does not like round and brown. She wants little and yellow, and if she can't have them, she wants Tooth Biscuits (they used to be her favourite, until we stopped giving them to her on account of Bosco eating the leftovers and, well, I don't want to talk about Bosco's issues any more). So she is feeling the pinch. When Roswell wants something, she becomes excessively cuddly. She smooches. She purrs. She rolls and stretches. She is very difficult to remove from your lap, and when she is not on your lap she is performing a writhing dance on the floor at your feet. Which is highly entertaining for us, so doesn't really accomplish what she wants. When all this furry kitty loving fails to produce the desired food, she sits on the cat pole and stares morosely out the window. Occasionally she checks the food situation - nope, still just round brown biscuits.
The thing is, the round brown biscuits are much more easily obtainable than her preferred Special Biscuits, and seem to be fine for the afflicted Bosco. So I suspect that Roswell is in for a loooooong hunger strike. |
| posted by Ata @ 7:21 pm |
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| Friday, December 09, 2005 |
| Internet Issues |
Our internet connection has had issues lately. We have cable broadband, so it is usually quick-as-lightning. Lately, though, it has been swinging randomly from quick-as-lightning to slow-as-pitch-dripping. This has made using the internet difficult. And we have a voiceover ip for our phone, so call quality has been sooooo poor that to have a conversation, one is basically guessing every third word the other person is saying. At least every third word.
So we complained. Telstra asked us to do some tests - which took so long that after 18 minutes the Telstra guy suggested Mr Ata call back with the results - and, miraculously, the speed has improved. Telstra claim they did nothing. But yet it is better.
Mr Ata says I should not name our service provider, in case they track me down & ensure that I will have poor internet connectivity for the rest of my life.
And why has my sidebar vanished down to the bottom of the page? I did nothing! |
| posted by Ata @ 5:02 pm |
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| Monday, December 05, 2005 |
| Ata pretends she's edgy. |
Living in the past
I met you back in January
But now it’s gone past June
I’d sing it with you baby,
If you’d stop changing your tune
I’m asking you no questions
But all you’re telling me is lies
You don’t have say it babe
I can see it in your eyes
On Tuesday you loved me dear
On Thursday loved me not
You said you’d see me Sunday
But on Sunday you forgot
Well you’d better make your mind up
I’m only giving you one chance
Cause I’m looking to the future
But you’re living in the past
Sit with me a while honey
There’s things I gotta say
Cause even though you like it
I can’t carry on this way
I’m not sleeping like I oughta
I’m not doing things I should
You’ve got me in confusion
Damn, but you are good
So I think I’m gonna make a change
It’s really for the best
I don’t think you want it
But I’m gonna put you through this test
I’m gonna make you sing my song
Make you dance my dance
Babe, I’m looking to the future
So you stop living in the past
So I’ll love you all this Tuesday
On Thursday, maybe not
I guess I’ll see you Monday
It depends what else I got
Gonna get you hooked on me
The way I’m hooked on you
I think they call it hard to get
Well, I’m gonna get it through
That one day I’m gonna have you
Standing by my side
To have you and to hold you
I’m gonna be your bride
So you better go along with me
It’ll be easier that way
Even though the stakes are high
This game I gotta play
And when I get done with you
You’ll see it clear at last
And you’ll be looking to the future too
Not living in the past
13/8/01 |
| posted by Ata @ 10:41 pm |
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| Sunday, December 04, 2005 |
| Grumblehumanresourcesgrrr |
One more assignment,
One more assignment to do-ooh!
One more assignment,
Just one more assignment to do.
Boring, boring, boring. One more. Due Tuesday. Come on, Ata, stop berating yourself for not having started it before today, and just get the thing done!
Stupid stupid silly Ata. She did not realise what the point of the subject was until last Wednesday. Seven weeks of classes, and it only occurs to her now. No wonder the lecturer had that odd expression when Ata asked a couple of questions after the class. Given that Ata suddenly just now realises what the subject is about, the questions she asked are, well, more or less irrelevant.
Surely I have a defence! I was Mislead! Misguided! Misinformed! I thought the subject title meant one thing, and the subject itself seemed like every other subject I have done this year, so I figured it was about what I thought it was about. Admittedly, I did wonder why we were spending So Much Time on service level agreements, but... still, it took me weeks to work out that the whole point of the subject was, basically, outsourcing. If they had called it "Managing Outsourcing of Human Resources Functions", I would have known. I would have understood. But noooooo - they had to call it "Managing Human Resources Consultancy Services."
I have to go. Mr Ata is back with food, and he cannot know I was blogging instead of working. |
| posted by Ata @ 8:39 pm |
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| Friday, December 02, 2005 |
| Nitter Natter |
Ata went to Christmas Drinks today for the temp. firm she works for. It was very pleasant. Among those present was the woman who temp-ed at the office Ata now works at before Ata worked there. When the connection was made, Ata paused for a moment and managed not to blurt out anything embarrassing - naturally, when errors in filing are discovered in the office, we tend to blame "the other temp". It is human nature.
Ata also met a nice young man who does salsa dancing and plays the guitar and wants to be a winemaker. We had been chatting for some time, and I explained some basic laws of the universe to him - such as, I don't spin. After some chatting and giggling, he exclaimed, "You're almost as much of an idiot as I am!".
Anyway. Pizza is here, and our Friends-Around-The-Corner have arrived to watch a movie.
Have a lovely evening, all. |
| posted by Ata @ 8:18 pm |
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