Dyson with death at Xmas

Good news!! Following a new MRI scan, the tumour in Lee-Anne’s ear has shown no signs of growth, so her three specialists between them decided to put off operating. Phew!! We’ll have to wait for another year now, before she has her next scan.

So what else has been happening down here? Well Xmas and new years and my birthday and all that, obviously.

The first big event though, one I’d been looking forward to immensely, was young Tom, my godson’s visit. This got off to a traditional start when while allegedly picking him up, I inevitably waited for him at the wrong gate at Canberra airport. He eventually found me.

God, it was good to have a bloke to spend time with! I work in a female dominated environment and spend most of my time off with Lee-Anne and Bethy. So having a lad about was great fun. No offense to Brandon, Beth’s other half, but we don’t mix much and it’s always complicated by the fact that he’s shagging my daughter, (more on this later.)
Tom is a “man’s man” too, even if he does tend to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s built like a brick shithouse, and, after leaving Aus, will be returning to work as a probationary constable in Wiltshire.

So I had a fun week off with him, showing him the sights, and sharing beers in the evening.

The highlight of the week for me was our trip up Mt Kosiusko, Aus’s highest mountain. We did (yet another) dog walk in the morning and buggered about a bit before setting off. I’d unilaterally decided we should hike the shortest route to the top, as it’s a long run to get  there and we had other things to do that day, (but mainly as an excuse as I’m old and fucked.) The run out there was in fact far longer than I remembered, I also forgot you had to pay ($27.00!) to get into the national park, can you believe that they charge? So when we got to the chair lift station, we were well behind time.

“Chairlift station???” I hear you say.

Yup, the quickest way to the top of the world hereabouts has a chairlift, mainly used by skiers, but also by knackered old farts like me, which cuts out the pointless amble up the steepest bits at the start. Neat!

Ride the wild chairlift!

It’s too high, I’m scared!

Buying our tickets for the chairlift we were told; “It’s a 4-6 hour round trip  if you’re walking to the top. You haven’t left  enough time to get back here before the lifts close, but you can follow the mountain bike trails down if they’ve stopped.”

Bollocks.

At the top of the chairlift I sought clarification off the girl up there, as she looked a bit smarter than the dim bint flogging the tickets; “It’s four hours from here to the top, that’s if you push it. It’s now 1.50pm and the chairlift stops at 4.30pm. You won’t do it, sorry.” Ok, so we had 2 hrs 40mins to do a 4 hour hike, in the burning sun, and I am old and decrepit. Tom came up with the bright idea; “Lets go for it, we can do it!”

So we did.

It is a great hike, mostly on man-made paths to save the environment, and not too steep.

The top, one of us is nearly dead

 

We ploughed to the top, took photos. We realised that, as it was all downhill from there, we had made up enough time for me to stop and take photos every five yards, like I usually do on hikes.

The view from the top of Australia

 

We got back to the chairlifts in 2 ¼ hours! I had to show the girl at the lift photos of us at the top trig point before she’d believe we’d done it. (Though I think she was just stalling for time to admire Tom’s physique.)

When we got down off the lift, we headed straight into the nearest bar.

Earned it!!

 

I realised after a beer that, not only had I just done my most knackering hike in yonks, (since we knocked off Snowdon in fact,) but also I had totally forgotten to eat that day, and had done it all on a totally empty stomach. Which make me think it may be the way to go in future, and not to eat before trying to do a big stomp. Seeing as I ‘d had a beer on an empty stomach I let Tom drive back, as not only would this be good for him, gaining experience of driving aboard, but it may save me driving license, (and our lives.)

Tom also nearly saw me die a second time, of a heart attack, when we were on a hike through the pinnacle. Why? Well  Ginger only went and  found one of those fun “live sticks” he’s so fond of. The twat.

Ginger; not the brightest of dogs

 

Oh god, Lee-Anne just rang me at work to let me know that, when she collected the mutts from the mother-in-laws tonight, she noticed a cheesy smell, and it wasn’t the mother in law for a change. A quick hunt about found Ginger under the veranda, happily munching on a large lump of blue stilton he’d somehow nicked from the fridge. He’d eaten most of it before it could be beaten off him, and it had been a fair sized hunk to start with.

 Tomorrow could be interesting.

Me and Tom  did all the usual places which Canberra is “famous” for;

Galleries

Abo art

Museums

steamy

Parliament

House of representatives

War memorial

Bomber!!

Bomber!!

Telstra Tower

Telstyrama

Tidbinbilla to see the Koalas,

tid3

Koala

  Deep Space Centre to see a bit of the moon

Mooning

Mooning

Captain cook fountain

Cheap Aussie lager has this effect

And of course did the nature reserves for dog walks twice a day.

 I did a bit of the cooking making a variation on Mr Nicol’s “Homity Pie”. It was nice, but a bit soggy, someone, no names, no pack drill, added too much blue cheese.

Vomity pie

Vomity pie

I was concerned that Tom was a bit of a Roo scarer, no matter where we went there were none, which was odd. Luckily, when out on a dedicated roo hunting drive, we came across some at the MT Painter dam.

 

It's Tom, run away!!

It’s Tom, run away!!

Tom also got to spend time with Bethy and Brandon. They hit the “Big Splash water park”, and also went for a few beers around town. Though this was somewhat hampered by Brandon forgetting to take his wallet, which has his ID in it, so they had to be circumspect on where they drank.

On his last day with us me and Tom his “Foot and Thai” for a traditional Thai massage, Tom said the girl had a bit of trouble manhandling him, and stretching him was a huge effort. I’m not surprised, as they are tiny and he is huge. Though he did seem to have enjoyed the experience for all that. That evening we hit our favourite restaurant for a meal, and that rounded off a great week, (well at least I enjoyed it!)

 

So Bethy got the job as a dental receptionist, or so she thought. The place is a one man operation, and not only does Bethy have to man the front desk as reception totty, but also work as a dental assistant, during the extractions and fillings etc. She’s enjoying this and as her main degree is in biology, she’s learning lots. She’s getting sufficient shifts and gets along fine with “Dr Bill” the dentist. He said to her that he really enjoys her company as his last assistant was an arts major, and wasn’t able to talk science in the way Bethy is.

She also starts a part time job in the admin department of the ANU soon.

Fair play to the lass.

But after Tom left, Bethy and Brandon’s move out began in earnest. As this took place over Xmas it wasn’t too traumatic, as there was lots going on. But it’s odd. Bethy now lives in an apartment in the city centre, and visits us (normally briefly) at home.

Lee-Anne came up with a great house warming present for them. Rather than buy the usual ornaments or knick-knacks, and seeing as they already had all the furniture they wanted, and TVs etc, she decided we should give them all the kitchen staples they need. So we got them oils, and flours, vinegars, herbs spices, rices, pastas, and a broad range of tinned stuff. They were over the moon with it. (Seeing as Bethy is a superb cook, she’s the main chef for them, and is relishing using it all.)

Her and Brandon are sharing with a another couple, Henry and Viviane. We thought this funny, and so as they already had a Viviane, we nominated Brandon as “Rik”, Henry as “Mike” and Bethy as “Neil the hippy.”

Vivienne, Bethy, Henry and Brandon.

Beth and Brandon came to ours for Xmas dinner, and were going to stay the night with us, but as Bethy doesn’t drink she decided to drive them home. For more “Xmas Presents” (nudge nudge,) was our guess.

Lee-Anne pulled out all the stops on her Xmas cooking as per norm, and boy was it great.

Home baked ham
Roast potatoes with Himalayan salt and rosemary
Prawn en escabeche, with saffron aioli
Salmon brochettes, with lemon and caper sauce
Couscous with zucchini mint and pistachio
Sweet potato and leek roulade, with Xmas stuffing.

Heston’s Xmas pudding

 

Xmas grub!

 

What did you get for Xmas? Answers in the comments box below please.

I was dead lucky, as well as the usual books, I got a “Cornish Guilt t-shirt,

cornish guilt

cornish guilt

 

and OGWT “Star Kicker” t-shirt.

 

Not actually me

I also got some “triple wood” Laphrohaig, which is a real classy drop, and is now my favourite scotch. I also got a cheese making kit, for making blue cheese!!!

 

I got Lee-Anne a set of new saucepans, don’t titter, there’s nothing sexist about that. She wanted a set of good pans, and Bethy wanted our old ones. So I got her a set of stainless steel pans, real gourmet cooking kit. I also got her some new wine glasses, a book on Art Deco posters, Molly Meldrum’s autobiography, and a…something which hasn’t actually arrived yet….But one day me and Bethy were out in the car, and we overtook someone with one of those “baby/princess/wolf/dead duck on board” things in the back window. “I’m getting your mother one of those!” I exclaimed. “But mum hates those fucking things, they make her want to crash into people deliberately for having such shite taste!” Ah, but Bethy doesn’t understand that you can also have them on your car in a post-modern ironic way, so I got Lee-Anne one of these;

201100014398

And to be fair we’ve had it on the car since Xmas.

All Beth’s visits, since moving out, seem to be quickly curtailed. (This has led to tears here, I will admit. We do miss her.) For some strange reason, there’s always a “got to go now!” clause, they are very obviously lapping up their freedom. But I’m just waiting for their first leccy bills to come in, that’ll wipe the smug grins off their chops! Our place is far too large for just the two of us, so we’re looking for a two bedroom place to rent, watch out for a “change of address” email from me.

I worked Xmas day and boxing day

xmas day at work

xmas day at work

as well as NYE and NYD,

new years eve at work

new years eve at work

and my birthday,

birthday at work

Fuck I’m bored

I think money before holidays natch!

NYE was our typical rave up. I got  home from work at 9.15 pm, had fish and chips, a glass of “Laphrohaig triple wood” or six, and was in bed by 10.30 pm, (I was working again on New Years day.) The lucky people in the UK who I rang over the period were all telling me about the parties they had attended, how they had drank and sang and pubbed and frolicked long into the early hours, and then put their keys in the hat at the end of the night, and how much of a boring fucker I am these days.

Sod them.

I must say sorry at this point to young Barbara, who I woke from slumber during the festive period, on the morning of her biggest hangover since time immemorial. Soz babs!! Get Chas to answer the phone for a change.

For one of my birthday treats me and Lee-Anne were taken to “The Conservatory Restaurant”, by the mother in law, bless. What an odd experience it proved. I have eaten “Ginger Catering’s” offerings before, when they ran the restaurant at Old Parliament House, which was probably one of the best meals I’ve had in Canberra. So I was looking forward to trying the menu here.

If you’ve ever wondered what eating in an aircraft hanger would be like, this is the place to check it out, you’ll not be amazed to find it isn’t that great. The “restaurant” area is partitioned off from the main cafe/exhibition/school canteen by a picket fence, so there was no ambience at all. Unless you can count noise of hearing kids running about, babies crying, chairs being scraped, people discussing the exhibition etc as “ambience”. The bloody plastic chairs deserve a special mention, not only were they as uncomfortable as hell, (I will admit to having a bony bum,) but each and every one of them screeched on the floor when anyone stood up. Seeing as the chairs were the same throughout the restaurant and cafe areas, that made for a hell of a lot of screeching. Oh as the chairs and tables were the same throughout the cafe and restaurant, (how very socialist, Basil Fawlty Thomas says,) it doesn’t make the restaurant feel special in any way.

The servers were pleasant, there seemed to be a profusion of them, but the service itself wasn’t exactly prompt. The food was….ok….Not as great as I would have expected, my salmon was dry, the mother in law asked for her steak to be done medium rare, it came in at the wrong side of medium. My “leek and almond tartlet” starter was lovely, I wish I’d now had it as a main. The portions were generous enough, in fact big enough for us to not want desert. However at fine dining prices $29 – $35 a course, I expected more finesse, and precision in the cooking. So a mixed bag. Would I go back? Not at present. If I’m forking out that expense I want to feel like I’m somewhere special, not in the fucking annex of the school canteen.

Here endeth this month’s restaurant review. I’m available to review your local fine dining restaurant, you’re paying though.

For my birthday I got some lovely Balvenie double wood from the kids, and a couple of bottles of “Old Fart” bitter, which came with a neat little “Old Fart” Leatherman type tool, off the mother in law, (as well as the meal.) On the evening of the fourth, (well remembered Charlie,) Lee-Anne treated me to an evening at the cinema, we saw this;

Utterly captivating movie, highly recommended. (Having said that, you have to bare in mind that I am a total Cumberbitch.)

Lee-Anne excelled herself, I’d only just started watching the “Dalziel and Pascoe” series on TV, which was a bit odd as I’ve collected the Reginald Hill (RIP mate,) books for the past 15 years and love the stories. But I got the DVD of series one out of the library, and found it complimented the books perfectly. Warren Clarke (RIP mate,) is Dalziel as he has existed in my imagination since I read “An April Shroud” many many years ago. So I was determined to get the whole lot. Lee-Anne found out that you cannot get the complete 11 series on DVD as a set. Not unless you get them from The Netherlands that is.

So she did.

We now have 45 DVDs of “Dalziel and Pascoe” to watch, complete with Dutch titles, descriptions and blurb on the cases, as well as Dutch subtitles, (which you can switch off fortunately!)

For my birthday meal, we had the kids, plus Henry their flat mate, and the mother in law over for a meal. The mother in law had given Lee-Anne a new deep fat fryer for Xmas. We’d asked for one as our old one had blown up. Lee-Anne knocked out the most perfect fish (ling) and chips (Heston style,) with homemade aioli, homemade coleslaw. I defrosted the last of my home made mushy peas as my contribution. What a feast, Lee-Anne has a new batter recipe which she is improvising around, and it is amazing!! (She uses a percentage of cornflower, rather than just all plain flour, and a teaspoon of curry powder, it is fucking NOM!!)

My mate Patrick has a new novel coming out; “A Place Called Winter” Click on this link to visit the promotional site. Go on, you know you want to

Just so you cannot say you were not warned, me and Lee-Anne are already planning our 2015 UK return trip home. We’re looking at being back in Blighty from 3 rd Nov to 15 Dec. Start saving now!

Just to wrap up with a funny, here’s a video of our two boys “Dyson with death.”