As another year slips away...

I find myself taking stock more than usual. 2013, after all, sees a whole new world opening up for me. New house, new locale, new job (I hope!) - a new life, really, and I want to make sure I get this one right.

I'm not in the habit of making resolutions because I only break them anyway, and then I feel bad. I know that I should do the following in 2013:

Lose 10kgs
Stop drinking
Exercise more
Learn to swim (I live on the coast now, after all!)
Learn to like fish (the catching/killing/cleaning/cooking and eating thereof - I live in a fishing town!)

BUT - they all sound like far too much hard work. In 2013, therefore, I resolve to be braver, ride more, write more, stress less and Have More Fun! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

This chapter of my life is all about appreciating how very very fortunate I am to have certain gifts and to make the most of them, to be in this beautiful place with my dear little Basil  - and not to let my fears get in the way of moving onwards and upwards.

So, sliding into New Year's Eve, Basil and I are having a quiet and reflective time of it and avoiding the madness of New Years Eve in Mallacoota. The Golf Club will be hoppin' and the millions of Melbournian holidaymakers have turned the middle of town into a giant traffic jam, so I'm utterly delighted to be in my little house, a couple of kilometres out of town. The serenity is unbelievable.

I'd like to wish everyone a happy New Year - let's make 2013 a good one!

A New Chapter Begins...

I'm here, finally, in my little house in Mallacoota – for good. No more having to leave. It’s official – this is Home now. And now that the unpacking is done, it feels like home. What a journey it’s been, though, to get here.

 

A buyer has made an offer for the Canberra house and it looks like All Systems Go there.

I spent all of last week putting things in boxes. How did I get so much STUFF? The first time I moved house I was able to fit all my worldly goods into about five cardboard boxes. This time it felt more like five hundred! Three days before Christmas, a family posse – Mick, Jayne, Steve, Sara, Kate, Mark and I – loaded up a rented truck – we even put the Harley in - and that was that. Here I am. Or rather, here we are. Basil the Travelling Cat did the Canberra-Mallacoota run three times in two days – about 1100kms overall, and behaved impeccably.

Basil the Travelling Cat at Wallagaraugh Rest Area

Travelling Cat is travelling

Travelling Cat is exhausted, and takes up far more of the armchair than he used to.

 All the hard work that Mick & Jayne did in the garden down here has been undone by Mother Nature, and I really need to mow the grass and pull out some weeds. But not today. Today, after unpacking the final box, I just want to sit and enjoy what’s left of my first Christmas Day in Mallacoota. Cheers, dears!

The hovel in the ghetto - FOR SALE!

So - I've been absent for a while, but with good reason(s):

School (it's marking/reporting hell at the moment, and that's never good)
House-fixing - it's finally on the market and it's never looked/felt so good!

Cat stuff - Aldwyn Evilkitty went home *sad face* and Basil the Flopsy-Bunny cat has been too adorable for words. He doesn't have 'nap-time' - he has 'growing-time', and he's (relatively) enormous! We've developed quite a routine now, and it's so adorable I could just melt (apart from the bit where he does a sort of Riverdance routine in the kitty litter and I am left with piles of litter to sweep up)

So - that's the Readers Digest abridged version, just to let you know I'm still alive!

Back later, when I dig myself out of marking/reporting hell. I think there's a light at the end of the tunnel!!! Back in a week or two

The Hovel in the Ghetto – a Tale of Triumph – well, ish.

Work in progress - still. Why is Time so unforgiving?

No, the hovel hasn't sold. It's not even on the market yet – it’s still far too dreadful - and time is running short before my Great Escape to Mallacoota.

So what's the 'triumph - ish' thing about?  Well,  some progress has been made...

   

My bro Mickey and his wife Jayne have done wonders in the garden. I’ve filled 2 trash-paks already. The garden is still an Issue., but currently looks fab in places, especially as everything is blooming. Damn those weeds...

As for indoors - the floors – well. You know, I’m thinking it might be smart to leave the bare boards (or is that just lazy cheapskate Betty speaking?) This is how I’m thinking:

My choices are to ‘finish’ the floorboards or not.

If I do, it will cost a bomb and the buyer may well decide to re-carpet anyway… The way things are now, I’ve started the ‘reno’ and got the floors ready for whatever they want to do to them – right?

A raging case of conjunctivitis has kept me away from school this week so far, so I’ve been enjoying the isolation and indulging my hermit status by painting the walls. Well, undercoating them anyway. I believe you need to ‘neutralise’ a house when you want to sell it (although my last place was bright and beautiful, and sold very quickly for a good price). I loved my deep gold walls *sigh* but I suppose they’re not everybody’s cup of tea. The main living areas of the house are going to be a deadly-boring cream… although I refuse to repaint the bedrooms.

 Bloody hell, this is all too hard and I just don’t have the time to do it all! Is it worth dragging a few thousand dollars out of my redraw facility, and paying experts to come and do some of this stuff for me??? Thing is, I have this stupid DIY bent – why pay an expert when I can do it myself? But I just don’t have the TIME!!! Time is my constant nemesis *sigh*

Aaaargh, frustration plus! Change of subject before I tear out my hair (actually, I need a haircut, so maybe I SHOULD pull it out!) 

Baby Basil grows bigger, naughtier and more irresistibly gorgeous every single day. I’m SO glad I weakened, and brought him into my chaotic life. I get that warm-fuzzy overwhelmedness every time I cuddle him, and feel like my heart is goimg to explode.

We (Basil Bitey-Bear & I) stayed at Mr & Mrs Boomerang Boy’s place for a few days, looking after their cat, Loki (who’s Basil’s brother). OMG OMG OMG, they were so mega-cute together! Totally inseparable. I desperately wanted to steal Loki. I was so sad bringing Basil home alone. Cranky but lovable Aldwyn, who’s still boarding here, sniffed disdainfully at little Basil and wandered off – welcome home, Baz, yeah, bugger off and don't annoy me - I enjoyed the peace and quiet while you and the Old Chook were away - and Basil has been following me all over the place ever since. I think he misses Loki. So do I.

What do you mean, 'we can't take him home with us?' Basil is distraught.

But I'm sleepy, and the pumpkin is soooo inviting! Do we really truly have to go home? (and leave Loki behind?)

Seeya bro... Get out of my pumpkin! Please come back to play...

Kitteh Therapeh

When you get to a certain age, you realise that a lot of the things you acquire may be the last ever…. for example, 'this will probably be the last set of saucepans I ever buy’ (bad example, they’re supposed to last a lifetime anyway, aren’t they?) Um…. how about ‘this will be the last new motorcycle I ever buy’, or ‘this will be the last new bed that I ever buy.’?

Anyway…. it’s why I splurged on a DeLonghi kettle a couple of months ago. It was horrendously expensive, even though I bought it on special, but I figured it was my last and only chance to own a superb bit of water-boiling kit. OMG that is soooo ‘first-world’ and I blush with first-world embarrassment.

Anyway, for a while I wondered whether it was weird to be so in love with an electrical appliance – but I so admired its drip-free spout, its gorgeous red enamel finish, its beautiful curves – it’s an aesthetic and functional masterpiece. 

But that love was nothing compared to this one…

I know I said I would never have another cat. When I said goodbye to my dear old demented Miffy, 18 months ago, I believed it. I meant it right up until Saturday, when I locked eyeballs with an adorable little grey and white kitten.

Not sure what it is about me and grey & white cats.... but Basil (as he's now called) is my third...

Basil was only 6 weeks and 2 days old.  I suspect he was a little young to have been in a pet shop, or anywhere away from his mummy. However, he could crunch dry food, lap water from a bowl and use a litter-tray, and I suppose that’s all that pet shops insist upon. So I rescued him. (Steve & Sara rescued one of his brothers at the same time.)

Basil and I have hit the jackpot. He has a mummy-surrogate who adores him, and I have a cat. Probably the last cat I will ever have (although I’m learning never to say ‘never’).

Until now I’ve never had a cat that willingly travelled in a car. Basil, however, loves it. He relaxes, looks out the window and goes to sleep, supremely comfortable. The day after I acquired him, he and I drove to Mallacoota, which was a huge road-trip for a tiny little cat. I’m going to keep taking him for daily drives, and will introduce him to Piglet soon. A Harley-kitty is my dearest dream.

Chillin' in the back of the car

After a wee stop at Cooma, chillin' in the (open) kitteh cage

He has the tiniest squeak, and he (so far) only uses it as a distress call. He’s alert, playful, inquisitive and supremely snuggly. He drops off to sleep in the middle of things. He springs and bounces, all feet off the ground, as kittens do, and he seems game for anything. I’m hopelessly, hopelessly in love.

Chillin' in the armchair in Mallacoota

Kitteh therapeh is the best!