A funny old week


It’s been a funny old week.

We had lots of visitors, post-wedding, and it was great. Which is peculiar because I’m not very adept at dealing with noise and crowds. But I honestly enjoyed it. On Sunday I realised that the three guests who were currently waking up in the spare room were total strangers to me just a few months ago. Granted, one of them was only five weeks old, but still, strangers!

As an aside, my bestie and I once found a German backpacker looking lost in KMart, and we brought her home to spend the night while she sorted out her next adventure. That was a total stranger, not an in-utero stranger.

Also this week, I’ve been trying to find a car. The demise of the last two cars I owned has left me very much doubting the integrity of the car industry. Forget lemons. These two were grape fruits. In fact, we received our cheque from the scrap metal dealer who bought the Subaru this week.


Thanks for that.

There’s been terror alerts in Sydney and of course it was the anniversary of the September 11 attacks. Which got me thinking. When 9-11 happened, I was teaching English to high school kids at an International college. Computer room rules went out the window and most of us were in there, jostling for news and information and all silently wondering what had happened. Back in the classroom, teenagers with fumbled English asked me to explain. I did my best, but even now I know I fell short. All these years later, and I’m not teaching. I’m writing and blogging and hoping that one day I’ll have the courage to return to teaching. Lots of water under the bridge and all that crap.

But I am seriously working on returning to teaching. I think I’m good at it. And I love helping kids realise they are better than they thought they were. When they learn to spell a word they’ve never heard of, or manage to get through an assembly without punching someone. Hell, I’ll be happy if I can do that.

It’s also been a week where we’ve had a significant washing issue. Dirty clothes have mated with clean clothes and created clirties – clothes that look clean but smell like they’ve put in a full day of protecting our nakedness. Floors have disappeared. Tensions have risen. So today I loaded up the washing machine and started to conquer Mount Washmore.

All was well until I took the last load of the day out.

You know how you associate smells with things? Like, the smell of lemons you associate with lemons. The smell of bread you associate with bread. The smell of cough lollies you associate with cough lollies.


Turns out a packet of Anticol took a tour of the spin cycle, stripped itself of the confines of a wrapper and Gravitron-style, adhered itself to the barrel of the washing machine.

I plan to let ants take care of it.

Finally, friends, it’s been a week where I awoke feeling concerned for a mate. I followed up on the feeling and checked in with her.

Didn’t take much.

Give it a go, huh?

Tell me about your week! What has been happening in your corner of the world?


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