It's the weekend and we all know what that means. Lounging around dozing in front of the TV, at least one take-away meal, kids late to bed and a distinctly low-key feel to the days.
But, in an act of weekend defiance, I've broken out of that lazy ambience and DONE some stuff.
Suff I've been intending to do for a few weeks. Not BIG earth-shattering stuff I admit, but still stuff, and therefore worth passing acknowledgement here at Holt Press.
Firstly, I mowed the lawn...er...grass...er...weeds! It really is remarkable how much better weeds look when they've been freshly mowed! I admire nice gardens but as anyone familiar with the Holt Press abode knows, they are other people's gardens. As I've often admitted, I do all my gardening with the one tool, and this weekend, I rolled it out of the shed (thereby, coincidentally doubling the available storage space in the pathetic structure that pathetically masquerades as the Holt Press shed), poured in some unleaded petrol, and set to doing the gardening. Samll children and animals are well-advised to clear a path in front of me when this happens as I endeavour not to stop until the job is done. Why pull the rip cord twice if you can get away with only pulling it once?
A quick "garden based observation" before I move on. There was a clear demonstration of culture clash in our street as I rode home today, In one front yard a Mum and sons were tidying, digging, cutting, wheel-barrowing and SWEEPING the driveway. Next door at the same time, one man HOSED his driveway! Hello! We live in an age of drought and water restrictions. One of our most precious natural resources is under severe threat, and nincompoops still insist on pouring hundreds of litres of it down the drain to remove grass and garden litter that could be just as effectively removed with a BROOM, or if you insist, a BLOWER!
When are we gonna learn?!!! Here endeth the rant!
No. 1 item of "Stuff requiring doing" dealt with.
I folded all the junk mail, 11 items of useless literature advertising useless consumer products, although one particular pamphlet did catch my eye, the one advertising the World Wrestling Association Federation Champioship Extravaganza of fake blood and mayhem, scheduled to occur in that mecca of the wrestling world, Bunbury! How many of the elderly residents and young families who comprise the Cloisters demographic will be making the trek to Bunbury to witness first hand the madness of American wrestling right here in SW WA is anybody's guess, but mine is "not many". Now, if the flyers were being delivered to Padbury a certain mate of mine would probably be licking his lips, buying tickets along with his brothers and introducing his two boys to the dubious pleasures of this melodrama pretending to be sport.
I spent a few hours on roster at the gallery where my time painting was only interrupted by a dozen scattered visitors, none of whom troubled the cash register. I've finished a couple of paintings this weekend so am feeling satisfied with my creative output. I even "framed" a 4 piece miniature and packed it off to Bridgetown with Carolyn who volunteerd to go and spend the afternoon with Mum at a craft and garden fair. The Holt Press men all found better things to do and declined the opportunity to accompany her. I think we'll all go out paint-balling or jetty jumping and eat hot chips in defiant masculine celebration!
Next on the list of achievements, I sent a long email to my mate Skip in California. I haven't kept in very regular contact with him the last few years, especially since he and his family moved back to America but we've swapped a couple of emails lately and in response to my message last night he's already sent me a long reply updating me on all he's been up to the last couple of years. Two of my best friends in the world, Skip and Paul both live in California so I hope one day I'll get back over there for a visit.
Then, I bit the bullet and finally updated the Volleyball Association website, something I've been putting off for well over a week. It's strange how I can blog so habitually but struggle to feel motivated to wotk on the volleyball website, which I was instrumental in getting established. There's something far more satisfying about blogging. Anyway, procrastinating over, the latest info about volleyball goings-on in Busselton is out there in cyberspace and if you feel inclined you can check it out here: www.busseltonvolleyball.net
I dragged my tired old body out of bed this morning and went to church and it was good. Sport Boy protested on account of tiredness but was made to come anyway, the same tactic could not be successfully applied to Fashion Boy or The Heir! (I'm sure The Heir will claim in his defence that he worked late last night the poor boy! He did a night behind the bar at a function at one of the Resorts with Favourite Daughter and reports that they have offered him a job! Good news, I think!) (Getting work definitely is, serving beer? Maybe.)
I then finished off the last section of the junk mail round on my bike so Carolyn could get away to Mother-in-Law-ville. Seeing as I was on the bike, and it is a BEAUTIFUL day I continued riding round to have a squiz at a garage sale. Ha! Should have known that even though all the signs were still out, it was after 12 and therefore the sale was closed! Not even a late-trading concession for daylight saving!!! Busselton Garage Sale proprietors have a religious zeal about closing down on the dot of noon, if not earlier! I rode home the long way, through the bush that runs along "the drain", one of several canals that cut through Busselton to the beach, keeping a close eye out for reptiles! I found one dead sleepy lizard.
My list of stuff is almost exhausted, just the hanging of a couple of paintings and a few games of Scrabble on the computer while monitoring Tottenham's latest disappointment, a 1-1 draw at Middlesborough last night.
Finally, something cute sent on an email chain this week. I don't normally etc etc.... but this one is fun and the human prayer bears more than a passing resembalnce to Gary's son Nathan with whom Sport Boy had so much fun while we were in Melbourne.