Thursday, June 18, 2009

Productive use of time

This afternoon Simon is off to the UK for a couple of weeks on business and I feel rather bereft. I always swear to myself that I will use the time he is away productively. Ideas so far include a) tidying out the midden of children’s rooms, filling bags which I will then have to smuggle off surreptitiously to the charity shop or tip. b) do some proper writing, working to a strictly defined timetable, c) take up a craft and present Simon on his return with a completed homeknitted Arran jumper that he will wear with pride, (this project brought on by the fact I rashly volunteered to run a knitting club as my after school teaching duty and as the first session looms it is dawning on me that the last thing I started and completed on the knitting front was a green and orange teacosy with pom poms in primary school.) and d) eat healthy and wholesome meals every night before retiring to bed with a worthy book in order to get 8 hours sleep. Aside from this I am obviously going to learn a new language and start yoga.

The sad thing is that I already know that in reality what will happen is a) the children will discover the illicit bags and I will be forced to express amazement that so many treasured objects have mistakenly fallen into a plastic bag and watch with gritted teeth as they are all tenderly replaced. c) the knitting will join yet another collection of plastic bags at the bottom of my wardrobe including the tapestry started when I was pregnant with Drama Queen No. 3, that particular child is now almost 10 and d) midnight will fall upon the house, and the dog and I will be wandering around the kitchen as I eat large marmite sandwiches and raid the packed lunch store for chocolate whilst I reflect on an evening spent watching Bridget Jones’ Diary for the nth time and reading trashy novels or Agatha Christie.

So the message is I might as well abandon all these good resolutions and concentrate on the only one I really care about which is trying to get some writing going.

I am off to a drinks party at DQ no. 3’s school tonight to celebrate the school portrait prize called the ‘Bald Archy’. It mimics the big NSW portrait prize known as the “Archibald” and like the Archibald has three prizes, the judges, the packers or people who hang the pictures, and the public. This year the school has persuaded Ken Done to do the judging and as every child in Yr 4,5 and 6 enters a portrait you get a wonderful kaleidoscope of every conceivable colour, subject and genre hanging round the hall. All the parents wander round, trying to identify their child’s offering and casting their votes. DQ no. 3 has apparently painted Britney Spears this year and I am sure she won’t be the only Britney on offer.

It’s not that I am a closet alcoholic but I do find drinks do make these kind of things more fun. Having said that last week Simon and I managed to survive an Abba dress up and perform evening at Drama Queen 1 and 2’s school, stone cold sober , clad in a pathetic attempt at an Abba style outfit with orange juice as the only reviver. Given my ability to dance and sing I can’t help feeling a large glass of wine would have improved my performance in the Dancing Queen line up – I think Meryl Streep is fairly safe in the role of Donna.

There are definitely times when living in Australia adds to the daily interest of life. My top news stories this week have included the following:
Pet dog snapped up by a crocodile metres away from his picnicking owners, the National Parks rangers are now trying to find and kill the crocodile as it is deemed to be dangerously aggressive – wonder if they would like Pluto as bait

And a notorious gangland family member who was shot dead in a Melbourne coffee shop with his 65 year old sister in law being charged with involvement in his death, bringing a whole new meaning to family disagreements.

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