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A packed Saturday
My Saturdays are usually full of sleep. I finish my work week at three in the morning, leaving the cab clean and tidy for the tender mercies of the weekend driver, and tumble into bed.
Friday evening I was in a bit of turmoil. I received news that probably means my pencilled-in October trip to Kansas City will either be dramatically curtailed or not happen at all. It might just work out to be a whip-around-the-world-in-a-week thing rather than the more leisurely wander I'd imagined.
I woke - rather groggily - as the house came to life. Kerri was up and about and off shopping. She has a regular Saturday morning coffee with a workmate, and sometimes I come along, sometimes not. This time I staid home and pottered about on the computer, and my daughter went off with Kerri, while I read the paper, had a tuna and rice brunch, did some laundry and generally revelled in the day.
They came back loaded down with groceries, I brood some coffee which we drank on the deck in the winter sun, and then we took a shufti next door, where the houses that have been under construction for the past six months are finally ready for sale and open for inspection.
I can't say that I like them - blocky things that overlook our back yard in a way the previous "guvvie" didn't - but that's the way things go around here. The block sold a year or so back for $750 000, the rather ratty house was demolished, and two three-bedroom homes went up on the land. It used to be a block that was pretty much all backyard, and now it's just a few scraps of courtyard and lawn in the bits that aren't built on. $1 200 000 for both houses, which is actually quite a good buy, all things considered.
We looked around the property, checking how much our new neighbours will be able to see of our place, admiring the tasteful way the front house has been furnished for display, chatting to the real estate agent, and then walking back home.
Then I went back to bed for my afternoon nap.
Woke up as three o'clock approached. I'd planned on walking into town, getting some sun and exercise, but as it was I was a little late driving in. As a cabbie, I usually have no trouble parking in the middle of town, but in my own car it's a different matter and I had to walk a couple of hundred metres. Canberra's getting crowded.
Not a huge attendance at our BookCrossing meeting, held at King O'Malleys. Hotfrog and Elddau1 and partner joined me, we piled our table by the fire with books, I was delighted to discover they stockt St Heliers pear cider, and the two hours passed very pleasantly indeed.
A grey dusk when I emerged, one bottle of cider inside me and my BookCrossing totebag mercifully lighter - for once. We made salt-and-pepper squid for dinner, or at least I helped Kerri and DD who did all the tricky bits.
And then I dozed off in front of the TV. Kerri shoed me off to bed and I read my new Paris book for a bit and fell asleep.
Woke about 0130 and now I'm on the computer catching up a bit. I usually get up in the early hours on weekends, even if I don't have to, simply because it keeps my rythmns going and I'm not dead on my seat when I resume work.
Elddau1 sent me a link to a previously unknown Alexander McCall Smith book - published online in serial form, second volume about to start. I've added the feed to my Bloglines page, and I'll read it as it comes out.
A very thoughtful offer by BookCzuk to send out the books of her late mother Bumma. I've asked for a book, because it would be a link with a wonderful lady, now sadly no longer with us. Bumma was a character and a half, a focus of attention at BookCrossing conventions, and a joy to be with. Bookczuk has a stock of hilarious, loving, inspiring and thoughtful Bumma stories, and I'm hoping that she'll write them down and publish them one day. One of Bumma's last gifts has been her letters and papers, and some real gems have come to light, including a set of principles to live by. I know Bumma exasperated her daughter sometimes - in later years she tended towards the random, especially if there was some time-critical appointment coming up - but she was ultimately so sweet a person one couldn't be truly mad at her.
And now it's nearly four on Sunday morning. In town, the cabs will be lining up to take increasingly ratty drunks home, and my weekend driver will likely be eagerly anticipating the first of the airport jobs. I used to enjoy Saturday night shifts, mainly because I could make a tonne of money, but they meant that my weekends were spent driving and sleeping, and my family had to tippy-toe around the house on their own days off. Now I'm more of a family guy and it's more fun, even if I don't stagger home at dawn with a bag full of carrots and pineapples.
Friday evening I was in a bit of turmoil. I received news that probably means my pencilled-in October trip to Kansas City will either be dramatically curtailed or not happen at all. It might just work out to be a whip-around-the-world-in-a-week thing rather than the more leisurely wander I'd imagined.
I woke - rather groggily - as the house came to life. Kerri was up and about and off shopping. She has a regular Saturday morning coffee with a workmate, and sometimes I come along, sometimes not. This time I staid home and pottered about on the computer, and my daughter went off with Kerri, while I read the paper, had a tuna and rice brunch, did some laundry and generally revelled in the day.
They came back loaded down with groceries, I brood some coffee which we drank on the deck in the winter sun, and then we took a shufti next door, where the houses that have been under construction for the past six months are finally ready for sale and open for inspection.
I can't say that I like them - blocky things that overlook our back yard in a way the previous "guvvie" didn't - but that's the way things go around here. The block sold a year or so back for $750 000, the rather ratty house was demolished, and two three-bedroom homes went up on the land. It used to be a block that was pretty much all backyard, and now it's just a few scraps of courtyard and lawn in the bits that aren't built on. $1 200 000 for both houses, which is actually quite a good buy, all things considered.
We looked around the property, checking how much our new neighbours will be able to see of our place, admiring the tasteful way the front house has been furnished for display, chatting to the real estate agent, and then walking back home.
Then I went back to bed for my afternoon nap.
Woke up as three o'clock approached. I'd planned on walking into town, getting some sun and exercise, but as it was I was a little late driving in. As a cabbie, I usually have no trouble parking in the middle of town, but in my own car it's a different matter and I had to walk a couple of hundred metres. Canberra's getting crowded.
Not a huge attendance at our BookCrossing meeting, held at King O'Malleys. Hotfrog and Elddau1 and partner joined me, we piled our table by the fire with books, I was delighted to discover they stockt St Heliers pear cider, and the two hours passed very pleasantly indeed.
A grey dusk when I emerged, one bottle of cider inside me and my BookCrossing totebag mercifully lighter - for once. We made salt-and-pepper squid for dinner, or at least I helped Kerri and DD who did all the tricky bits.
And then I dozed off in front of the TV. Kerri shoed me off to bed and I read my new Paris book for a bit and fell asleep.
Woke about 0130 and now I'm on the computer catching up a bit. I usually get up in the early hours on weekends, even if I don't have to, simply because it keeps my rythmns going and I'm not dead on my seat when I resume work.
Elddau1 sent me a link to a previously unknown Alexander McCall Smith book - published online in serial form, second volume about to start. I've added the feed to my Bloglines page, and I'll read it as it comes out.
A very thoughtful offer by BookCzuk to send out the books of her late mother Bumma. I've asked for a book, because it would be a link with a wonderful lady, now sadly no longer with us. Bumma was a character and a half, a focus of attention at BookCrossing conventions, and a joy to be with. Bookczuk has a stock of hilarious, loving, inspiring and thoughtful Bumma stories, and I'm hoping that she'll write them down and publish them one day. One of Bumma's last gifts has been her letters and papers, and some real gems have come to light, including a set of principles to live by. I know Bumma exasperated her daughter sometimes - in later years she tended towards the random, especially if there was some time-critical appointment coming up - but she was ultimately so sweet a person one couldn't be truly mad at her.
And now it's nearly four on Sunday morning. In town, the cabs will be lining up to take increasingly ratty drunks home, and my weekend driver will likely be eagerly anticipating the first of the airport jobs. I used to enjoy Saturday night shifts, mainly because I could make a tonne of money, but they meant that my weekends were spent driving and sleeping, and my family had to tippy-toe around the house on their own days off. Now I'm more of a family guy and it's more fun, even if I don't stagger home at dawn with a bag full of carrots and pineapples.