Thanks for all your lovely comments! I have been meaning to sort the website out and post this for ages, but the closer it got the more tempted I was just to wait a bit longer and then chuck up a dog photo with a random baby in the corner and see if anyone noticed.
I forgot to say that we don’t know the flavour, so that will be a surprise. One of many, I’m sure. Nobody will commit to their predictions on the sex (my mum: “I think it’s a girl from the back but a boy from the front,” well IT CAN BE ONLY ONE, also PICK A SIDE) and I myself have no idea. I thought it was a girl for a long time and now I think it’s a boy. Mostly because Mr. T vetoed my top choice girl name and therefore by Sod’s Law the time I am currently spending on picking another one is bound to be wasted. Other than STOMPING ON MY DREAMS, Mr T has been busy continuing to renovate the house. I have finally given him the ultimate definite deadline date, and one of my major requirements was, “Don’t leave me trapped inside this house all summer with a baby.” Therefore building the deck jumped up the list and is currently underway.
AWWW YEAH CHECK OUT MY NEW DECK. ALSO MY FLAT HEAD.
Yes the little frog still looks a bit like the victim of an inept brain surgeon, but the hair on his head is growing back. Slowly. I have no explanation for that giant paw sticking out the front of him; he grew that himself. Also you can see the bobcat in the background, which (due to the deck) can no longer get into the back yard and is about to be banished to the front. The frog is terrible with the bobcat, in that he has no sense of personal safety and just walks in front of it and lies down while it’s working. (I’m hoping bobcat translates into other locales… like a little mini digger?) Anyway, as for the deck, that bit under the frog is only the start of it… below is the same subject matter (frog on the deck) but with me standing further back.
THAT’S MORE LIKE IT
So yes, the deck will be large. The roof/pergola thing over the top will also be replaced at some point, but my main concern now is to have the deck itself done. By the end of the week! It’s only taken, like, TWO YEARS! In renovation terms, a mere blip. And I only had to GENERATE LIFE to get it to happen.
God, why I choose to do these things sometimes I have no idea. I have changed hosting and of course nothing moves over as it should, and I just could not be bothered sitting down and fixing it properly. I think I have fixed it properly now… although I wouldn’t put money on it. Well, not my OWN money.
Anyway, now that I’m relatively sure I have this thing back on the rails, hello! Here I am! And as I mentioned earlier at some point, it has been rather low on photos round here because I dropped my camera into wet sand and DID NOT LIKE. So I got another camera and frankly, it was a bad choice. I ended up returning it and getting a better version of what I had originally. I just could not seem to figure out the settings on the first one. Like below, here I am trying to take a self portrait:
I GOT SKILLZ, THEY’RE MULTIPLYING
Right, so clearly I am not the best at exposure here. But dammit, my other camera didn’t have this problem! The error surely cannot be mine! And then I tried to take another photo, only to have the cat knock over the camera as it was taking the photo. THIS WAS NOT MY FAULT. Also, YOU CAN PROBABLY SEE WHY I AM TAKING SELF PORTRAITS. I don’t know why CAPS LOCK but it JUST SEEMED APPROPRIATE.
I ATE THOSE PIES. YES, ALL OF THEM.
So there you go… some actual news around here. Hence I have been incredibly tired all winter, and I am totally using that as an excuse as to my blogging absence. Although really I can’t complain – no morning sickness, all currently proceeding as it should. In these photos, which were taken on the weekend (along with some better ones, though frankly not MUCH better) I am 36 weeks pregnant, which means 4 weeks to go, which means this thing is primed to go off on 11 December.
Hey, when I give you news, I TOTALLY bring out the big guns.
OK, so I did not get around to making the cake. What, nobody is going to even pretend to be surprised? Mr T expressed a desire to make an orange poppyseed cake, and that also did not eventuate. Woe. No cake. Regardless, it was a beautiful warm day, the sort that Melbourne just throws at you all casual-like to keep you hanging on through the blustery scattered showers of spring. We went down to pick up some dinner earlier and the beach/pier/foreshore/reserve area of our little suburb was heaving. I personally counted three lobster red arms + white singlet outline casualties in the first ten metres alone. Mostly, I was glad it wasn’t me.
Still too cold for swimming. Then again, I am a wimp.
I went to Ikea today. I got none of the things I particularly went to get (linen curtains, a particular type of storage box) and instead ended up with Christmas decorations and a silicone cake tin. Although it’s silicon, so it’s not really a tin, is it? Cake pan. Cake holder. Whatever, you know what I mean. I’ve just looked it up on their website (it’s the SOCKERKAKA which clearly needs to be in caps, and also said aloud with JAZZ HANDS) and apparently it’s a cake mould. And because there are two of them I’m supposed to make TWO cakes and put one on top of the other. I did not realise this. This sounds good. I will do that tomorrow. It is supposed to be 30 degrees tomorrow, to which I say: OUR TURN FOR SUMMER, NORTHERN HEMISPHERE. It has been cold and dark and dark and cold here and I have been doing a LOT of sleeping. Not your ideal cake baking weather, true, but if I do it I will have a lovely sunny day and also cake. This is win-win.
I went to find another photo to add to this post and could only find the one below, which is the first photo I took with this new camera. Oh, I dropped my old camera in wet sand at the dog beach. Don’t do that, by the way; your camera won’t like it. I did try to get all the sand out with a little paintbrush but it ground its little gears at me and still refuses to turn on. I live in hope. Anyway, I got a new one (thank god little cameras are cheap these days), charged the battery, sat on the floor, turned around and took a photo of the nearest thing to me, which was my ginger cat in the dog’s bed. Apparently the flash was on. He wasn’t impressed.
I AM NOT IMPRESSED
ALSO THIS DOG BED IS COVERED IN DOG HAIR, THIS IS GOING ON MY ONLINE REVIEW
Hey, apparently it’s that thing where you post every day for a month! Considering that I am currently having trouble posting ANY day for a month, this might be too big an ask. I couldn’t even remembererer how to log into my own site. Couldn’t even find the link on my favourites. Sad. Possibly sadder for me than for you, but I am going to assume that you also are sad.
OK so let’s not overload this thing and choke it up. Start small. How is the little dog? The little frog is fine. (Yes, we call dogs frogs. This can be confusing to outsiders, when for example I mention taking the frog to the beach. What, don’t you take your frogs places? YOU ARE REPTILE-IST. Are frogs reptiles? Hmm I am off-track already. Things are returning to normal!) Actually and in fact I am lying. The little frog is not little, but in fact weight 63 kgs, which makes him quite large in the frog stakes.
I AM A BIG FROG
What a big nose you have. And you (probably) can’t tell, but he is standing very still and burping at me. It didn’t smell good. That was taken at his first birthday party and he had just eaten some sort of disgusting meat-based cake. He liked the cream cheese icing though. Not so much the cake part. Because he is a spoiled frog.
And returning to my original point, which was when I was lying when I said he was a) a little frog and also b) fine; he got a hotspot on the top of his head. If you don’t know what a hotspot is in relation to dogs, for god’s sake DON’T GOOGLE IT as you will be traumatised. Basically it’s a big weepy sore thing, usually on long-haired dogs where a little injury or flea bite or whatever stays all hot and damp under that fur and gets infected. Anyway, it’s gross and they get very big and very nasty, very quickly (like within hours). Then you need antibiotics and creams and stuff and it is all kinds of horrible. Anyway, at least it came up on the top of his head so he couldn’t lick at it and worry it. So we took him to the vet. Who shaved off the hair, and then kept shaving until the edges of the infection/rash… if it had been left overnight the sore would have spread to the edges of the rash and then STILL KEPT GOING. So gross. And so we were left with a frog who was totally ready for Halloween.
I AM HIDEOUS
Aaaaand there goes my pretty dog. Not quite so much fun taking him down to the dog beach now, I have to admit. It looks like we have done amateur brain surgery on him. We have taken to calling him Igor.
So there you go! An update on the little frog. More updates to follow. BETTER updates. [Waggles eyebrows tantalisingly]
Apparently I took photos once. These are from February and I just found them on my camera now. Stop judging me! It burns! Anyway, in February we paved the side courtyard. It’s fully enclosed for some reason, including mesh over the sides and top, so we call it the cat courtyard as it’s handy for locking them inside while still leaving them some outside. Previous to this paving it was completely overgrown with grass, weeds and the decapitated corpses of tiny mice. My cats are horrible and do not deserve a nice paved courtyard.
The truck arrives to bring sand. Apparently you need a lot of sand for paving. Also pavers, but we already had those. Luckily for you I am sparing all other equipment photos. Who do you think I am, pioneer woman?
HE BRINGS ME PRESENTS
YOU LEFT IT UNGUARDED
(Please ignore our ghetto cyclone mesh fencing and gravel driveway. I know the industrial look is in style, but I don’t think this is quite what they meant. Fencing quotes are on the list. It’s a long list.)
What? It’s mine now. It was unguarded. Also, apparently, delicious.
Paving complete. Sort of. Oh, so the sand goes into all those cracks? Gotcha.
Yes, we understand some sort of noisy activity is going on in our courtyard. We don’t care.
Fine. THANK YOU. Can we go back to sleep now?
I drove home tonight through an incredibly thick sea fog. It was quite impressive, really. What sort of fog rolls in at 5pm? Don’t fogs usually come early in the morning or late at night? I think it must be a Portent. Of Doom, of course. I don’t think there are any other kinds of Portents. Perhaps next there will be a plague of frogs. Or boils. Or frogs with boils. Although I may not see them, due to the fog. Am I going around in circles? It’s the fog. I was lucky to make it home at all.
And here at home, shrouded in foggy gloom, there was a Little Dog. Actually he’s quite a Big Little Dog now. He weights 58kg, which makes him the Biggest Little Dog we’ve ever grown. And he’s doing it in fits and starts, like a teenage boy who suddenly grows out of all his clothes and eats all the Weetbix. Would you like to see him?
Well, he’s somewhere in there. Actually, he’s #5 in line. Did you guess him? And can you see why we still call him a Little Dog? This is at his breeders’ house, where we leave him to gallivant around the city/country/globe. In the lineup, his mother is #1 and his sister is next to him at #4. That puppy is no relation, but is Super Cute and when we came to pick up our dog, we almost took her home instead. Because: SUPER CUTE. But has a lot of attitude, as you might expect from one so little who can hold her own in that crowd.
What else? I woke up the other morning distressed about an eBay purchase gone wrong, and lay there fretting about what I was going to say in a sternly worded email and whether it was worth reversing the Paypal or just letting the money go. Then I woke up a little bit more and realised I had dreamt the whole thing. In my view, it was as bad as dreaming about work, then having to get up and go and do the work you were dreaming about (which has also happened, clearly). For the record, all of my eBay purchases are going swimmingly, thanks for asking.
The cats are fine and because it is colder than a witch’s tit here in Melbourne, they have taken to sleeping on the bed. With us. And because they are cats, they don’t know how to share. In fact I can probably blame my stressful eBay dream on them, because when I woke up from that I was distorted into a kind of pretzel shape due to cats pressed against me in uncomfortable positions. In addition, I was freezing because most of my top half was out from under the duvet; somehow when one of my cats curls up on the bed, he magically locks all of the bedding around him in place. There is no way you are dragging any part of that duvet out from under that cat; you’d just better hope you had enough before he got there. And you NEVER DO.
Guess what? It’s May. MAY. I don’t know where the hell this year is going. Anyway, I’ve been in New Zealand for the past three weeks, which explains my complete lack of internet-ness. The previous weeks… well, I’ve got nothing. Disappearing! It’s what we do! Anyway, now I’m back and I have some sort of hideous throat infection which has become an horrific sinus cold thing. Why am I always getting sick lately? I remember when I was never sick. Never! I took the train by god and no germs could touch me! Now, however, I have been coughing weakly and staring with great suspicion at anything which looks like food. Which is to say, anything. This has only been compounded by the smell of my kitchen, which I have not walked into for a week. You think I am joking but I am not. We came back from holiday to find the power had gone off and tripped a fuse, which meant everything had been off. Including the fridge and freezer. For a week. A WEEK. Thank god Mr T dealt with all of that because in my sickened state I couldn’t even face it. We have three fridges and two freezers and all of them were mouldy. Currently they are filled with nothing but giant mounds of baking soda and, funnily enough, ground coffee. The coffee is really doing the trick. There’s a tip for you, should you ever need to throw out $500 worth of spoiled meat. And I sincerely hope you don’t.
Little dog is back, and is… pretty big now actually. He went to his breeder’s house and played 23 hours a day with his sister and three other dogs. He’s exhausted. Also skinny, as he walks away from his bowl (an only dog, obviously) and the other four fling themselves towards the unattended food like homing missiles. Three weeks and he never learned that if he turned his back on dinner, it was NEVER THERE when he came back. The cats, on the other hand, are fat and glossy. I have no idea what they were feeding them but they are in far better condition than when we dropped them off. Sushi? Avocado oil? I should find out, they look like a shampoo ad.
WHY didn’t this post? Goddamit. I’m retrospectively dating this so that it appears on Friday. BECAUSE I CAN.
You may recall Victoria had a locust plague, which barely reached Melbourne. Here is our contribution. Mr T trapped this in a vase because “I thought you might want to see it”. I didn’t, really. But now you have to see it as well.
GIVE ME THE LOCUST I WILL EAT HIM.