m i a o w


Cooking With Gas

Things are looking marginally better. For a start, we have a working gas cooktop! Tonight, for the first time in over a year, we won’t be cooking on our trusty one-burner camp stove. Shock and Awe! I have a face like a sunbaked lizard, but am trying to ignore it. I still can’t bring myself to feed those evil bastards that used to be my furry beloved cats. This is what keeping your cats in their own detention centre will do to you. It will convince you that they couldn’t possibly commit random acts of cruelty. Wrong.

I am on the trail for a voltage regulator for my car. In other breaking news, my boss’s wife’s sister is apparently interested in looking at our house, so I have put an array of what I hope are flattering photos online, and concocted a very dodgy floorplan map. I’m sure it will come to nothing, but as I just found out that I’ve missed the advertising deadlines for Earthgarden magazine, I have to follow every lead, however flimsy. So if there is anyone out there who thinks a lovely old Queenslander under $300k might excite them or someone they know…

I think I feel a bit better today, due to spending 20 minutes at about 2am this morning giggling hysterically. I got woken up by M having, what I call, a dog dream. He pedals his legs and shifts from side to side, like he’s trying to escape something. In this situation I always think it’s better for me to wake him indirectly i.e. by drinking from my bottle of water, or rearranging my pillow – rather than risk losing an arm by shaking him awake. So I drank some water, and he floated back to consiousness.
The first thing he mumbled was;
“It was trying to bite me, it tried to bite me.”
I was solicitous. “What tried to bite you?”
“We were away with some people, and you disappeared, and when you came back no one noticed you were any different. But I knew, I could tell. You were a zombie. A flesh eating zombie.”
I ponder this, wondering about the Freudian possibilities.
He goes on;
“I threw my Chokito bar at you and it hit you on the head. It just bounced off. Everyone thought I was being mean to you, but I was trying to stop you biting me. And then your dad was there and you bit him on the back of the head, and he turned into a zombie too. I tried to run….”
“Yes, I noticed that.”
“…but you grabbed me and tried to bite me…”

Actually, I have to admit that this dream loses a lot in the retelling. At 2am in the morning it made me cry laughing. Maybe I will get M to tell me again, so I can capture its essence a bit better.


Winston’s Black Dog Comes To Stay


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  1. I think the house looks great – we’d buy it if we had some spare change – which we don’t because we just knocked down half our house and now aren’t sure we have enough money to put Humpty Dumpty back together again… 🙂

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