First of all thanks for all the cards and presents, it’s good to know we’ve not been forgotten!

So what have we been up to?

In the weeks leading up to Xmas, Bethy’s basketball association was holding a  quiz night and auction to raise funds for sending some star players to the States to train.  Fortunately I had that evening off, and so we had a group. There was me, Lee-Anne, Bethy, Glenn, and Phil, Glenn’s mate, to go along. Getting there was a bloody nightmare, as our GPS just flat out refused to believe the venue existed, and insisted on sending us to the Manuka cricket ground instead.

Ok, so a charity quiz and an auction, what could go wrong?

Well for a start I’d taken along a litre and a half bottle of wine for us all to share. Except Bethy is too young to drink, Lee-Anne was driving and neither Phil nor Glenn likes wine.  (You can see where this is going now, can’t you?)

It all started rather swimmingly, with general knowledge questions, which I was actually of some help with. Then the auction started.

We put in some silly offers for “blind” items (you only found out what it was if you won it.) We got a $50 wine voucher for $20, and a very nice “Suzuki” T-shirt for another $20, Bethy got a nice necklace for a few bob, so we were doing well.  Then they did an open auction. We didn’t bid for many things, and even when we did we were outbid. Then they auctioned a week’s accommodation in a holiday home at the coast. The starting price was $500, and no one bid, the tight gits. Lee-Anne looked at me and said; “Go one, get them started, it’s bound to go up.” So I stuck my hand up. “$500 bid here! Going once! Going twice! Sold! Sold to the surprised drunk looking man, who’s just fallen off his chair.” I didn’t try to run away.

To be honest we looked up the place we’d just bought when we got home, and the lowest rate was $1400 a week, so we’d got a bit of a bargain.

Ok, so I was NOT planning on bidding for anything else, but then they auctioned four individual bottles of wine, one of which was worth$300. However, only one of the four was worth that, the rest were “vin ordinaire”, and they weren’t saying which was which. “That’s got to be worth a punt, we’d been lucky so far,”I thought to myself. I stuck my hand up for a few bids on the first one, got outbid at $100. The second one went the same way. So like a twat I ended up upping the bidding to $125 for the third one. I won that one.

We checked it out when we got home. It is worth all of $30.

Please spare a though for the mother in law’s sister, Wilma, who recently had a  pacemaker fitted. That in itself would be bad enough, but she also had to suffer Mary going up there for a fortnight; “To help look after her….” I don’t know which would have been worse, the operation or the “help”.

Ah yes, remember I was telling you our team, (we’re now known as the “Canberra Early Intervention Service”,) had moved into “Space Station Shithouse”, this place? Ok, well just to continue their never ending question to make our lives less pleasant, management had decided to tell us that on weekends we would have to work out of a different office, the “CATT” office (crisis team) ; “for health and safety reasons” (read; “to save us turning the air-con on just for you plebs.”).

This means one of us turning up at our normal office on Saturday mornings, diverting all the phones, collecting the diary and mobiles, getting the keys for the works car,  and moving all and sundry across town to the CATT office. Which is a complete pain in the arse. One Saturday I was working alone, so it was job to get everything organised. Which is not my strong point, as you may have gathered. So I turned up, let myself into the offices using my swipe card, got into the team office using my swipe card, and got the stuff together. I’d left myself out of the office, and gone down in the lift, and was at the main door, when I realised I couldn’t find my swipe card to get out.

OH SHIT!! I must have left it in the office.

Never mind, I’ll go back and get it. But you need your swipe card to get into the office. So I couldn’t get in, and I couldn’t get out. Neat trick huh?

Brain wave! The girl from the kiddies team, which also work from our office, she’s based at the CATT offices on the weekend,  I’ll ring her and ask her to come and bail me out. I could just imagine the piss taking I was going to get when this little adventure became public. So I rang the CATT offices, and asked for her,  and they told me she’d phoned in sick today. “Anyone there got a swipe card for Callam Offices?” I asked hopefully. “Nope, no one here, why do you need one Taff?” I replied, “Oh, just asking, no bother see you soon…”

So by now I was panicking badly.

I know!  I’ll ring Gary (my mate from work) and ask him to bail me out! He was on his day off, and would not be best pleased to come into work, but as it would mean a story of my incompetence he could get a great deal of mileage out of, he may enjoy it. So I rang him, and he  was 300 kilometres away, down at the coast.

Bollocks.

I was just about to give up and smash a window or call the cops or something, when I noticed a plaque next to the lift; “For building related enquiries or problems out of hours call Canberra Connect on 123 456 678” Got to be worth a punt. So I rang it, and after the nice lady had finished laughing at my predicament, she put me onto a nice young man who unlocked all the doors for me (from his desk by computer!) and thus let me back into the office so I could get my swipe card back.

I’ve now got it on a leash around my neck each workday.

On the subject of work, I’ve studied for and passed my “Mental Health Officer” qualification now. This means I now have the ability to bang people up in the nut house, against their will and without recourse to getting doctors and other health professionals involved. Once I sign the sheet, the cops take you in, so be nice to me!

Seriously though, it will make this line of work a bit easier for me, as up until now I’ve had to rely on having another staff member with  mental health officer status with me, if and when I’ve had to make that judgment call on some one I know to be unwell. This, unfortunately, happens quite a lot, it’s never pleasant, and I’d rather be the one to take full responsibility for saying; “Look, you’re obviously unwell at the moment. I’m going to sign the forms to have you taken to the hospital for assessment. I know you don’t agree with me, but I think it’s for the best,” especially if it’s a punter I know and have worked with for some time. Handing over the responsibility for the admission to someone else always seems a bit of a cop out, cowardly even. So from now on it’s me taking full responsibility for the decision, the legal side of it, and the formal side of it, and the rap for it, if it all goes pear shaped. It also means another couple of grand a year in the pay packet too, which isn’t to be sniffed at.

But of course the big event for us was Bethy finishing high school. Which had two main facets, what would her final report be like, and would her braces come out in time for her end of school “Formal”. To be honest we were more concerned about the braces, as we had little concern about how good her academic results would be. Our faith in her ability was well justified, and her final report was glowing. I won’t go into to much detail, sufficient to say out of 22 subject areas (this was measured over the last two years) Bethy got 18 A’s and 4 B’s. We were over the moon naturally. The teachers comments about Bethy’s personality and intellect were all strongly positive, and all indicated that they expect her to go on achieving.

BUT! Not until a couple of days before the formal was she due for the final examination by her dentist, and the final decision on her braces coming out, and she was bricking it.  I came home from work that evening to a beaming smile, they were out!! Bethy still has to wear a clear plastic guard for some time, this comes out when she’s eating, but she now has a million dollar smile.

So on the big day, which fortunately was my day off, I spent the day ferrying Bethy and her friend Linnah around to hairdressers etc so they could be prettied up for the big event. Bethy had gone for a “Jane Austen” type hairdo, and very pretty she looked too. With her canary yellow formal dress on, she looked a stunner.

Later that evening Lee-Anne and me drove her to the formal, which was being held at the “Boathouse By The Lake” restaurant. We gave her the parental warning thing, or at least I did, Lee-Anne’s a lot more liberal than I am, and she then run away from us as soon as possible, as it’s not cool to be seen with the crumblies.  The girls all looked so stunning, the guys all looked like geeky gits. God I remember those days.

By god some of the kids (parents) had pushed the boat out! Some came in vintage cars, some in stretch Limos, some in wacky “pimp my ride” custom cars. The most impressive was a guy and his date that arrived in an open top hot rod, with five Hells Angels on Harleys as outriders.  The guy who should have been the most impressive arrived in a helicopter. Unfortunately for him the only safe landing zone was so far away from the restaurant that no one was there to see him get out. The twat.

We picked Bethy up late that night, she’d had a great time, and was still stone cold sober. A far cry from me (or her mum) at that age then.

A week later we attended Bethy’s graduation ceremony, which was sweet. Bethy got commendations for her high academic scores, her contributions to the school social life, for representing the school at the cooking competition and the debate forum, and for her outstanding efforts in outdoor education. And we were very proud parents.

With all the rain we’ve been having, the lawn was starting to look a bit jungle like. Lee-Anne insisted both front and back lawns were cut in time for Xmas.  So girding my loins against the prospect of finding snakes, poisonous spiders and lost wombats in there I fired up the lawn mower. Which cut a quarter of the back lawn, then died on it’s arse. I was furious, as we’d only just had it serviced, and the service cost more than a service on my car cost ($280!) So I slung it in the boot and went back to the shop. They were very apologetic, and told me they’d get it fixed. But not until January the 8^th as they were highly booked. I tried to explain to them that my wife wanted the lawn cut, they didn’t seem to understand the gravity of this. I then explained that if my lawn wasn’t cut in time for Xmas, I may as well cut both my knackers off with a rust secateurs and be done with it. They seemed to get the message and insisted I borrow their loan mower, a doughty old unbustable nail of a machine with millions of miles under its belt. I got it home. It died within cutting two lengths of the lawn. I took it back. “Funny that, it’s always worked fine before.”

I went to the local hire store. They loaned me a nice new mower, it hammered through our lawn and had both front and back done in a jiffy. Not before my legs had got sunburned bright pink, but still very quickly. Now I could have, with the hire mower, got through front and back lawns in under an hour. Ok, it would have meant me busting my balls, but I could have done it. So I could, theoretically, hire the mower for an hour once a month, (cheaper rate for an hour) and still make a profit over what I paid to have our old nail serviced. Am I missing something here?

For Xmas, me Lee-Anne and Glenn had chipped in to get Bethy a laptop for her college work. The onus had fallen on me as a the most geeky of the three, and the one with the credit card, to get the best deal. After months of me faffing, and death threats from the other two, I finally made the choice and ordered one from Sydney, via e-bay. I got the receipt, and the consignment number for Aus Post off the vender.

After a week, nothing had arrived, so I looked up the consignment code and did a net tracking on it. It had got as far as Sydney sorting office but no further. So I rang them. “Are you the sender or the addressee?” they asked, “Oh well we’re only allowed to discuss problem with the sender, get them to ring us.”So I rang the guy in Sydney, who is a nice Chinese gentleman, and he agreed to ring them. After another week I rang Aus post again, “Are you the sender or the addressee?” they asked, “Oh well we’re only allowed to discuss problem with the sender, get them to ring us.” Hmm…. “I have” I replied,  “Oh well we’ve not heard from them so we cannot discuss further.” So I rang the nice Chinese gentleman again, and he promised to ring them again.

The next week …

So I put a complaint in about him with “Pay-pal” and then escalated it to a “dispute” as I was totally and utterly pissed off, and Xmas was getting close. Pay-pal replied that the matter was under investigation, that we were entitled to a refund if we didn’t get the goods, as they were insured by Pay-pal, and that we’d have a definite answer to the dispute.

On January the 6th.

So Bethy had an apology for her main Xmas present.

This didn’t help Lee-Anne at all, who started having her traditional “Xmas nightmares” a month out from Xmas  day, as is the case each year. These involve her waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thinking it’s Xmas day and that she hadn’t done a damn thing. They also involve beating the crap out of me while I sleep for some reason. They persist until Xmas morning, by which time I’m sleeping in the spare room.

In the run up to Xmas Bethy decided to join us at the gym, as her basketball was over for the year, and she wasn’t doing her school based exercise classes (outdoor education and fitness training) . No mean commitment seeing as we go in for 6.00 am, which means getting up at 5.30 am to be there in time. So on the morning appointed we drove in, and explained to Tits McGraw,  (real name; Holly, all blonde hair, make up, bright shining eyes and “tits out for the lads”, at 6.00 am) who is  the reception bimbo, that we wanted temporary membership for Bethy, as she’s our daughter and wants to keep fit etc etc… And she point blank refused! “I’m sorry we cannot have anyone under 16 here due to insurance purposes.” No amount of pleading or threatening would budge her, so we pissed off home again.

Ok, not good enough for me and mine. Lets see now….

Hmm.. they have a website with a feedback form.So I gave them feedback. Including the fact that Bethy was only 4 weeks off her 16 th. birthday, that she had used the facilities as part of her school sports experience package, that her parents would be with her at all times, that Lee-Anne had been a member of the club for over 20 years. (Then some killer low blows,) I also reminded them of their alleged advertised love of health and fitness, their “commitment to the community,” and how bad it would appear if the local press got wind of their putting young people off training and fitness by their unaccommodating and belligerent attitude to young people.

That afternoon Tits McGraw rang me up to let me know they’d “love to have Bethy come along and use the facilities”, and boy were they keen for her to become a member. Which she is now.

Well Xmas was quiet, and with only one major cock up, but at least one which was a doozey. Bethy was at her dad’s this Xmas, we alternate with him each year, so we had invited them around for Xmas high tea. We’d got this idea from the high tea we’d had with Pete and Catherine when they were over getting wed. So Lee-Anne spent some time researching suitable menu items, and planning recipes and shopping lists. I just said I’d do whatever I was told, and throw in a couple of made up recipes out of my head. These never go wrong, they always end up exactly as they end up. The mother in law, who we’d also invited, said she’d bring a couple of dishes too.

So Xmas eve and Xmas morning were spent shopping for grub and cooking, and then more cooking. Then some more cooking. It didn’t take long for us to realise; “by fuck we’ve cooked a lot.” By which time it was too late to stop of course.

So the final menu read;

Individual pumpkin and mushroom Wellingtons (v) (L-A)

Sashimi Oysters (L-A)

Savoury bread scrolls with cranberry, caramelised onion, blue cheese. (v) (L-A)

Chicken drumsticks in plum marinade (L-A)

Chicken drumsticks in curry marinade (L-A)

Herby breaded lamb chops (L-A)

Parmesan fritattas with asparagus and corn. (v) (T)

Quorn in plum sauce. (v) (T)

Broadbean salad. (v) (m-i-l)

Individual mushroom tarte tartin (v) (T)

Blue cheese and walnut pate (v) (T)

Lentil dahl pate. (v) (T)

7 Aussie cheeses with water crackers. (v) (T)

Lemon curd and rasperry tartlets (v) (L-A)

Fruit mince creme brulee cups. (v) (L-A)

Bethy’s homemade double chocolate fudge. (v)

Chocolate flourless cake. (v) (L-A)

Apricot balls (m-i-l)

Various crackers and chips.

(V) Vegetarian
(L-A) Lee-Anne
(T) Taff

We had  enough to feed the bloody street, oh and the mother in law eats like a bird.  Glenn and Bethy arrived and we did the present thing. Lee-Anne started loading the table with grub, I thought we were going to have to buy a bigger table. Glenn says; “Me and Bethy just had a full Xmas lunch, with turkey and all the trimmings, so we’re not really hungry.”Ah huh…

Oh and Glenn will not touch anything he suspects of being vege, and considers bacon the only worthwhile vegetable. So for the next few days Lee-Anne and I did nothing but eat leftovers. The freezer is jam packed, and I think we won’t be buying more grub until Easter.

I did well out of Xmas, got the third volume of “The Annotated Sherlock Holmes,” which completes my collection,  several other books, the BBC “Sherlock” series on DVD, (a  reinvention/re-imagining of the Holmes canon, with Martin Freeman, it’s very well done indeed,) a T-shirt for “Smartass University” and lots of other goodies.

My god that rain has been continuing. Canberra has officially had the wettest summer for 27 years. Some of the storms which have come through have been awesome. There’s a good slide show of them here. The place is so lush and green now, it’s like a different country.  The bike has been getting forlorn looking, I haven’t been on a good run for weeks. Up in Queensland they are not enjoying the weather at all, floods up there have covered areas the size of Wales.

Funnily enough this year has produced a bumper crop of butterflies and dragonflies, mainly due to the lush verdant pastures we now have. We’ve also had  amazing displays of wild flowers. I was surprised to notice that some of the grass, which is now over five foot high in places, had got in on the act and were in bloom with lovely delicate red and orange flowers. I mentioned this to the mother in law (in the distance a dog howls at the moon) who has lived in Canberra for 40+ years and she says it’s the first time she’s seen it.

Being the only Pom in the office during the Ashes has made me immensely popular. Not that I’ve been making a song and dance about it, or wearing the Welsh flag into work or anything. I’m waiting to collect all the $5.00 bets I had on an England win with mates from the office. We’re still looking forward immensely to our trip to Adelaide late in January, for the one day Aus vs England match, it should be a hoot to watch. I hope by then the Aussies will have pulled their thumbs out a bit.

So that’s about it really.

Oh we’ve scored tickets to see Tommy Tiernan in Canberra, and Ardal O’Hanlon in Sydney in April, got front row seats for the pair of them,  so our comedy roster is looking good.

It’s New years Eve as I’m writing this. We’re not doing anything tonight, just a quiet night in with some good plonk I think. (I’m at work, working till 9.00 pm.)

Oh, I turn 52 in a few days time (or a few days ago by the time you get this, ) I’d like a case of these for my birthday present please.

Thanks to the wonders of the internet, and the “bush telegraph” of gossiping mothers, (don’t ask) I’m now back in touch with an old friend Vanessa, who I haven’t seen in some thirty fucking years.

Oh, this time next year, this blog could be coming to you live from the UK! We’re hoping to have a few weeks over there during Bethy’s Xmas break.