m i a o w


Category: The House with the View (Page 2 of 8)

The Plague

On Sunday I had organised for D, E and Small E to visit, as well as Christian, M and the boys. They were to turn up around four thirty or so. At 4pm Small Z vomited. She is not the vomiting type, but I assumed it was something that she’d eaten… there’s quite a bit of goat poo in the bachyard, and she is fascinated with it – probably because M and I both scream ‘yuck yuck YUCK!!’ when she picks up a pellet, which makes her laugh and laugh.

Anyway, she continued to vomit every hour or two for almost the next twelve hours. Vomited through the barbeque, which kind of took the zing out of our attempt at sociability. Poor Small Z was very amiable about her situation. She just became a bit unhappy a few minutes before each spew, and then, once it was over, would flop for a while until she got her beans back. On Monday, my mum looked after her and she was still out of sorts and had developed a fever.

She threw up all over the kitchen floor just after 4pm and I took her down to see a doctor, just to make sure it wasn’t anything weird. Nope. A virus. Gah. And a high temperature. She was back to powering on five cylinders on Tuesday…and that’s when M and I started to feel the quease. It hit M first. He had to go to an ophthalmologist and said he barely restrained himself from coating the man in a technicolour yawn. Ewwww. Although, I suppose, it would have made the consultation cost a little more understandable…

When M is sick he either becomes malleable and lovely to look after like a small koala, or he becomes half man/half paranoid freak, whizzing in between trying to keep a stiff upper lip and thinking I’m annoyed with him because I haven’t showed the illness that he’s trying to ignore enough respect. It’s pretty much a no win situation from wherever I’m unlucky enough to be standing.

By about 8pm Tuesday night he was shaking like he was freezing, and looking very pale around the gills. “Mind over matter!” I told him stoutly, noshing down on some leftover tuna casserole. I still felt some quease but was rising above it. Small Z and I went to bed. An hour later I couldn’t control my shuddering. Ohhhhhh. “MIND OVER MATTER!!” I shrieked sternly at myself, but it was impossible. My feet were blocks of ice. I truly felt as if I’d been struck by the plague. Thank god Small Z didn’t have the shakes with her vomit extravaganza, because I would have thought she was about to leave the building.

I finally got up out of bed, and met M in the hallway. “It got me,” I said pathetically. I applaud him now for not telling me it was all in my head, but I couldn’t applaud him then. Then, I had the unmistakeable taste of leftover tuna casserole and, with method in my madness, ran for the bath. M has now renamed the bath ‘The Vomitorium’. I clogged it. There was a lot more than tuna casserole in there once I had finished. I think it dated back to that morning’s fruit and yoghurt extravaganza, looked in at some eggs on toast and green salad (lunch), and definitely said hi to a couple of nori rolls from that afternoon. It was not pretty.

The reason that I couldn’t sing into the toilet? It’s too gross. I don’t think M or I have cleaned it since we moved here, and the thought of praying to that particular porcelain goddess, was enough to… well. You get the idea. M never saw his stomach contents. E emailed me later and said they had all been similarly afflicted, and that she had been sick. Twice. While D had remained non-ejecting. Maybe it’s a male thing. All I heard from Christian was that there was one son down to it, and probably one to go…

Thus, I spent today feeling extremely fragile. Hungover without the fun quota. Ate butter beans and some brown rice in the late afternoon and started slowly feeling a little more human. Small Z has now developed the kind of cold that sees her occasionally sneezing out a yellow nose sausage. It’s all fun around here.

The suit. And the…walking.

The Cancer Council, after I telephoned and harrassed them about how long it was taking, finally deigned to send the sunsuit and hat for Small Z that I ordered a while back. The woman spoke to me like I was lucky she had even found my order, let alone contemplated posting it. It arrived today. The tide was high around 3pm and Small Z and I went over the road for a splashdown.

The sunsuit arrived in the post today!
The sunsuit arrived in the post today!
The sunsuit arrived in the post today!

And the walking? I think that we can date the walking as beginning from today. Small Z’s confidence has been building…with the help of Baa! The WonderSheep. It’s bizarre how much growing can happen in 13 months…


Meteorologically speaking, today is faultless. This morning M went out early to get the boat, as he and Dr Grass are going on a manly overnight fishing expedition. He, Small Z and I walked down to where he tied up the trimaran at the dock at around 9.30am this morning, and the weather was already winning me over.

The tide was running out and the water was not too cold. Had we stayed last night on the boat, I think this morning would have seen me jumping overboard for a somewhat bracing swim. I held Small Z over the water at the end of the pontoon and she kicked her legs up and down as the it swirled past her toes. I took her out. “More! MORE!!” I put her back.

We played on the boat for a while, and then moseyed back home via the little playground, where Small Z loves to swing about six feet in the air on the babies swing. I could feel her nanna wincing from 60km away. We saw some pelicans, who were large. And some seagulls, who were happy.

It’s now just after 2pm. I would love to capture the conditions right now – bookmark them – because this is really the kind of day that presses my buttons. The kind that makes me wonder if moving to northern NSW will do it for me…meterologically.

The sky is blue, the breeze is slight, the air is soft and it’s about 25 degrees. The sunshine encourages toe wiggling. Right now, I’m pretty happy to be where I am, regardless of the work I need to get done. Even looking out the window as I type is making me feel good about existing. It seems that my negativity has stepped out for a moment. Good timing.

Happy Birthday, M.

As part of M’s birthday every year I become malleable girlfriend. Gone are the snipey comments, I hide my eyerolls, and I agree with everything he says. Everything. He is in heaven. This year, his birthday fell on a weekend, which meant that I was wonder-girlfriend for BOTH days. Seriously. It nearly killed me.

I think M is always in two minds about his birthday, and I have learnt through experience that it is best to get him OUT and among PEOPLE. Anyone at all. But this year, my plans were almost foiled, as he had a bit of a stomach bug. I had done quite a bit of present planning, as I find him kind of difficult in the present arena. He tells me he doesn’t want books, I already knew he’d get red wine and coffee (his two staples) from other sources, so I decided on a three pronged present attack – on the assumption that at least one of the three would get some kudos.

I got some photographs printed up about eight by ten inches, and framed them, I made him a photobook of the last year using Comic Life, and my final item was a coffee machine (secondhand from eBay, due to finances). Ha! He said he liked two of the framed photos, commented that the photos in the book I made were too dark, but deemed the coffee machine thrilling. That’s just the way he is on that one day a year. I ignore it and move on. (Note that I say I move on. I do not, however, forget….)

He had awoken with a tummy bug, which didn’t help matters, however, we soldiered on. Here is Small Z in the car on the way – being malleable birthday baby…

On the way to the cafe

I took him to the Pearcedale Primary School Fete. Oh my god. If there was ever any karmic payback for my saintliness, that was it. There was the most amazing white elephant stall…and in no particular order, we scored a Humphery B Bear nightlight, a cubby, a slide, a crockpot, a sleeping bag and a lamp with butterflies on it. All this came to a total of THIRTY DOLLARS. I so could have gone far more crazy, but part of my birthday goodness is to recognise when to stop, damnit.

How spectacular is this crockpot?! It’s the same brand as my original one, but with an added (and much needed) special feature. You can REMOVE THE POT! Oh thank god for no more careful cleaning around the electrical cord bit…

My New Five Dollar Crock Pot

And the cubby is not just your normal everyday crapola cubby. It is big. It is plastic. It has doors, and working window shutters!!

The new cubby

After the wonder of these additions to the day, M still felt pretty vile, and his birthday lunch hung in the balance. Luckily, he decided he would rather feel revolting amongst friends, than at home with just Small Z and I. Small Z and I heaved a little secret sigh of relief, and he drove us at great speed to one of his favourite cafes where I had booked a table (“too far away”) talking in clipped and rushed sentences (“tell me where to turn” “now where?”) as I breathed slowly through one nostril and then the other. Of course, once among friends, he got his mojo and his humour back. I self-medicated with a cocktail. Next year, as I have said once before, I’m inviting people over for BREAKFAST.

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