Reddy to go !

I'm heading up to the homeland soon for my Mum's 80th birthday.
She was born on the 11th of the 11th lest any of us ever truly forget!
She's quite excited about this birthday - more so than I can remember her being excited about any of her previous 'milestone' birthdays. The invitations went out weeks - maybe even months ago such is the anticipation!
I remember my Mother turning 40 and remember her turning 70 but I can't seem to recall 50 and 60. Maybe that's the reason for the excitement surrounding this birthday.

Everywhere I go lately I see quotes about life's journey being more important than the destination. On posters, engraved on jewellery, in books, all over the place. I don't like that the implication is that the destination is the final end.
I've had countless destinations in my life and it WAS all about reaching them. There is no doubt that the unexpected twists and turns of the journey are worthy of abiding respect but don't deny the destination doesn't warrant a mention also.
In my humble opinion.
I am fond of this passage though.






Take 'Red Cadeaux' for example.
Runner up in the Melbourne Cup for the past 2 years. And 3 times a contender.

Surely his journey has been about the destination? 
Standing up in a plane for 24 hours. Hello?
After the big race last year they interviewed the trainer.
He was very morose.
He said "no-one ever remembers the horse that came second".
I wanted to write him a letter assuring him that I do, I do, I really really do! 
How could we not - such a spectacularly close hold your breath finish!

My Mum phoned me this morning. 
Among the general chit chat she asked me if I had any tips for the Cup.
I said "Mum - it's a little early yet - however I am going to put a dollar or so on Red Cadeaux." She said "hold on I'll just write it down." And then she came back on to the phone and said "ok - Ready to Go - and which other horses?"
And I burst out laughing and said "Mum - not Ready to Go - Red Cadeaux!"
I've been laughing about it all day. It's a sign I'm sure.
My Mum has gone a little deaf along her journey to the destination!
My final selections come Cup Morning. 
Check back then!

It's a magnificent blue sky day in Melbourne today. 
One more sleep and we get 4 days off. I can't wait.
And on Tuesday I am off to the Cup! 
Expected temperature 29' with a small chance of an afternoon shower.
I am super duper excited!
I am almost embarrassed to say it but say it I will - I have never been to the Melbourne Cup before. 18 years living in Melbourne and not once!
Cup day has been a part of my journey since I was a child. My Nanna ..
( Ready to Go's mother ) LOVED Cup Day. And she always had a party. And I was always allowed to take the day off school. No questions asked. Emotional Cup Day betting, laughter and trifle. Her legacy to me. 
And I will love each of these things until my own journey's end. 


I almost have everything prepared.
New Dress - check
New French Lace Jacket to cater for all temperatures - check
Stylish but sensible shoes - check
Bag small enough for online check in but big enough for money, Myki, hairbrush, lipstick, perfume, phone, small fold up umbrella to cater for small chance of rain - which can be draped across body to allow for hands free - champagne in one and bet slip in other - check check check check ..

and check!
Hair 9:30 am Saturday - check
Nails - 2:30 pm Sunday - it's each way on pink or red - check
But the most exciting part is my new fascinator. It is  
A D O R A B L E !
I want to wear it 
E V E R Y  S I N G L E 
D A Y such is the adorableness!
Look! Even the back is adorable!
I defy you to say this is not adorable!


I am off to the races with my lifelong pal and his wife.
I think they are taking me along with them out of sympathy and also because they have an ulterior motive! 
The ulterior motive would be my phenomenal emotional tipping success rate!
In September it was Steve's birthday. 
So I found a horse racing that day called Captain Red. 
It was running in some two bit backwater race course, so insignificant I can't even remember where now. 



Steve's a Qantas Captain. 
So I thought it was a sign. 
An extremely emotional long shot sign.
It wasn't even a favourite - it was like $25 for a win and $3 for a place - or something close. 
I didn't want to appear to stingey so I put $2 each way on it.
For Steve.
Did I put $2 each way for me? 
No. I did not. 
Am I a fool? 
Yes. I am.






Steve appears in the onboard safety videos on Qantas flights.
The first time I saw it was when I was flying home to Qld last Christmas. A Jetstar pilot just flown in from Bali and on his way home to Cairns plonked himself down beside me as the doors closed.

I saw Steve's face on the screen and I started to giggle. I was given a rather chastising look from my seat mate. Did I have the audacity to laugh at the safety demonstration? And then there he was again. I could hardly say 'I know him' - how naff would that sound? I couldn't turn on my phone and say look - here he is with his wife and I in Church Street! Even more naff. So I just stifled my amusement and my seat mate proceeded to nod off to sleep. 
That's how interesting I am.

But when that damn nag came in that day at $28 for a win, I can assure you that my safety was not Steve's priority -  I did not sit back, relax and enjoy the flight! I did not enjoy the journey and the destination was even worse! Not that I was not happy for Steve .. but I wanted to be happy for me too! I could have used that little bit of fun money. Cup day glamour does not come cheap!




I have since discovered a Captain Orange out there racing as well. And from a distance I'll quietly and respectfully follow his journey. Roger that.

But back to Tuesday.
The Cup is the hardest race to pick. Too many newbies on the track.
And historically - the favourite does not always win.
And more often than not there's a story. I love a good story.
Of course there's the jockey to take into consideration - always out to prove something. And the weather. And the barrier. And the track. And the strategy. Remember - try not to attack too early!


See - it's so much easier to follow your heart. Trust your heart. Your open heart.

Keeping in mind all of our journey's take unexpected detours - here is my narrowed down field.

Admire Rakti
Lucia Valentina
Cavalryman
Brambles 
Who shot the Barman
Silent Achiever
Fawkner
Junoob
Red Cadeaux

Expected to narrow even further by Tuesday.

But my 3 emotional tips are:

Silent Achiever - The trainer is R James - that's my bro! The only problem is he's not a Roger - but that's good too!

Junoob - my Nanna would have chosen this one - no need to share all the family secrets!

And Red Cadeaux. He's flown into our lives three times now. Fourth time lucky? Ready to go?

Romeo and Juliet

I went to watch the movie called 'The Lunchbox' a few weeks back. In fact I went to watch it twice. I had been desperately wanting to see it but time had raced on. 
Until I heard the run was about to finish.
I hadn't ventured to the Bay Street Palace as yet, even though it is only a short hop, skip and a jump away from the girl cave. I felt I was being unfaithful to the Yarraville Sun. I felt out of my comfort zone. But the want overcame the fear. There was a Sunday morning session at 10:15 so I decided this was it, I'd go. And then I decided not to, and then I decided to, and then I decided not to. 

'"The dice was loaded from the start".

I upped my courage and headed on in, arriving right on 10:15 as the lights dimmed. At 10:50 the projector was still not working and so I left. There's only so long you can sit alone in a dark room full of strangers. 



So the following Saturday morning armed with my 'Admit One Free' - back I went.
It is a beautiful story which resonated with me in so many ways.
The story is set in Mumbai. For many years I have longed to travel to India. For many reasons both holistic and colourful. I think watching 'Bride and Prejudice' settled my desire conclusively.

'The Lunch Box' is the story of a lonely widower and a neglected young housewife. Their lives become intertwined, initially not through their own making but through the hand of fate. An accident. Which leads to their growing affection entirely through the written word. The ending is hard to explain. You walk away with only the feeling that the story is not yet over, although there is no more to see. Only hope unspoken remains.

"When are you going to realise it was just that the time was wrong".





I love watching Criminal Minds. In fact I have become slightly addicted. I adore Penelope Garcia. I want to be her. She has the best. job. ever. She does important, stimulating and highly regarded research. She wears outrageously chaotic couture and is all about hair - and flowers adorning. And no-one sees anything inappropriate about her shamelessly flirting with a tall dark and handsome dude who calls her baby girl because they love each other. Just sweet simple simmering love. 


And all the gravelly old ballads are featured as background music.

And every episode starts and end with a quote. I do so love a quote. Not any old quote.
One you really need to think about.

And the Criminal Minds lot - they have their very own jet.

So does someone else it appears!

I am no longer the only one doing the fly in fly out up the runway to the Pineapple Shack. This must be the very pink of A380's because it clearly was too wide to taxi into the hangar. Cuteness yes? 

I hope it doesn't go missing ..

Last week Dire Straits 'Romeo and Juliet' was featured in a episode. I'd forgotten how much I had loved this song. I particularly love the unpredictable beat that plays beneath the predictable beat. 
It's a little like Penelope.



"All I do is miss you and the way we used to be,
All I do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme
Julie babe I'd do the stars with you any time"



A couple of weeks back someone I care for thanked me for being funny. 
The funniest ..

I guess it's nice to be considered funny but it left me feeling a little empty. 
I'm more than that.
All my life I've been told I'm funny. 
Ever since my 1st report card in fact.
"Susan shows great promise. She is alert and vivacious."
And when I bought that report card home from school all I can remember is that every adult who read it burst out laughing. 

Of course I didn't know what the word vivacious meant at 5 years old. I just know it invoked laughter and I know it made me feel slightly embarrassed in that childish way when you are not really sure what embarrassment is - it just feels kind of not right.


It gets worse.
Not only have I been unfaithful to the Yarraville Sun - I have been unfaithful to another of my true loves. 

Flowerbomb

"You said I love you like the stars above I'll love you till I die"

But I was overpowered. I was helpless. I was a goner. It was Carnal.
Do not look up the price. Please. Because like 'Bride and Prejudice' - that will be further conclusive evidence that I have completely lost my mind. 
Yesterday I went into the Organic Coffee shop. 
The very delicious thing making the very

delicious coffee asked me what it was that smelt so lovely. I was so taken back I did not revert to Penelope Garcia mode. Maybe it was because I wasn't feeling so engaging after having a little sun damaged removed (ouch but no I will not stop going out in the sun) that no flirting was to be forthcoming. I told him outright. Very seriously. "Carnal Flower" I said. He said "Carnal?" I said "Yes, Carnal." Eye contact was maintained.
"And it's very expensive. It costs a LOT of money to smell this good."  
 And he said, " Well I can assure you it was money well spent. It was a good investment. You smell beautiful."
I kind of melted. No funniness required. I'm getting the hang of this.

Co-incidentally last week via the six degrees of facebook separation an old friend of my cousin, someone I have not seen for a very long time posted this.
And I kind of melted again. I needed this.
And again - no funniness required.
I am going to pack away my hunour for a little while now.
Just like Penelope, there's more to me than that.






I think I may have been watching 'Criminal Minds' a little too much because I have been having quite terrible nightmares of late. Last night I woke up heart thumping and the first thing I did was slightly panic. There is someone in here I thought. I can smell something. But as I fought to come out of the haze of anxiety and sleepiness I realised it was lovely. It was beautiful. 
It was Carnal Flower.
Only the tiniest hint late late at night - it was just so soothing. I needed this too. Hmmm.

Just before I stow my funny .. 

"You and me babe .. how bout it?"
( I do show great promise you know .. )


Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sH3a_M_4NHk

Om Namah Shivaya

During the mid year break we had a powerdown at school. 
While outwardly I was worrying about the back log of work, inwardly I was doing a little happy dance. Cha Cha Cha. Four days of sleep in. Luxury.

While my mental spark is still there - my physical spark has gone into hybernation.
I don't think the iron tablets are working. I have really felt the cold this Melbourne winter.


After the great 'red nail polish smashed and went every bloody where' incident I decided to walk to the Dry Cleaner to pick up my lovely jumper.
For exercise. I needed exercise. 
I didn't figure the words 'an expensive' to precede it though.
But 5 minutes away from home the nail bar was looking forlornly empty. Hell. Why not.
And then next door - gee a new eyelash bar. Hell. Why not. 

I could look like Michelle Bridges for $20!
But all I got was threaded not shredded ..
Ooh the Chinese Massage man. My chronically aching shoulder was crying out for attention. Hell. Why not.
And by the time I arrived at the Dry Cleaner to be met with the sad news that my lovely new jumper was irrecoverable - I needed a coffee and a sympathy baguette.
I love exercise. I felt fabulous.

A few weeks ago I won my first ever Big 6. Mega exciting.
To the uninitiated that means you need to pick the winner of six races in a row.
What could be easier?
There was a little study of the form with a couple of emotional girlie choices thrown in.


And slowly as the afternoon progressed - tick,tick,tick,tick,tick. Number 3 tick was particularly satisfying. None of the tipsters went for the winner. But I did. Because life is never predictable. But this boy always makes a comeback when least expected.

The final race of the day was agonising. I couldn't listen to it. But in the end I couldn't help it. 



I was in a wine bar and the punters next door in the beer garden were yelling Go Nautical go Nautical. 

And of course Nautical was my final emotional bet for the day!
And then cries of excitement.
OMG. I rushed around to hear that Nautical had won. 

But then there was a protest!
So for what seemed like forever we waited. And waited. And waited.
It was worse than Dunaden and Red Cadeaux.
Until the protest was dismissed and Nautical was declared the winner!
$39000 for the Big 6.
But me being a very small punter only came out with $1931! ONLY !!
Interior decorating here I come!

As a small aside - last year my tip for the Cup was Voleuse de Coeurs. 
(Refer: Nov 3 2013 'The thief who stole my heart')
It was a long shot emotional stab that didn't come in. But this year I think it will be up there. I do. You heard it here first. Red Caeaux or Voleuse de Coeurs. Get in now at 51:1.

Apart from low iron I seem to be undergoing another metamorphosis.
I have become incredibly attracted to the colour turquoise. 
Turquoise with pink.
A beautiful marriage.
Maybe it reminds me of a beautiful swimsuit lolling around in the ocean.

The color turquoise helps opening lines of communication between the heart and the spoken word. It is a friendly and happy color that is enjoying life. In color psychology, it controls and heals the emotions, creating emotional balance and stability. In this process, it can feel like an emotional rollercoaster that goes up and down, until it balances itself.The color pink

represents caring, compassion and love. The pink color stands for unconditional love and understanding, and is associated with giving and receiving care. Since pink is a combination of red and white, both colors add a little to its characteristics. It gets the lust for action from the red color, and the white color gives it an opportunity to achieve success and insight. The deeper the pink color, the more passion and energy it radiates. Pink is romantic and intimate, feminine, loving, caring and extremely considerate. It tones down the physical passion from the red color and replaces it with a gentle and loving energy. The color pink is insightful and intuitive and it shows tenderness and kindness from its empathetic and sensitive nature. In color psychology, pink is a sign of hope. It is a positive color that inspires warm and comforting feelings. The color pink gives the feeling that everything will go well or be okay.

I thought I was coming to the end of decorating the little Pineapple Shack. But this recent win has fanned the flames once more. I desperately needed a lamp shade for my vintage pineapple lamp. But I was holding off. It had to be just perfect so I decided to wait and let it come to me. I thought that would be the best shot. And it did!





Speaking of shots ..

A Nutri Bullet. I need one of those things. For my iron.

Last Sunday's paper was a health wealth of knowledge. I felt energised just reading it.

But there is no doubt that I need a Bullet. (be nice) 

I have a little bullet but it doesn't fit a banana. 

And I need to fit a banana in my bullet, along with the spinach and the chia and the apple cider vinegar and the ginger and the berries and a pear.  Maybe an apple and some flaxseed. And oats. And ice. Made from Spring Water. And almond milk.

Oops I forgot the turmeric and the coconut oil. 
And the kale.

I have always been a great fan of coconut oil. 
Slathered it all over myself for years. 

Oil and exfoliation, oil and exfoliation, oil and exfoliation! 

My mantra to baby smooth skin. Why didn't someone mention earlier that I should have been eating it all these years?

Speaking of mantras.

The sound of Om Namah Shivaya was a constant energy in my old life. 

But those days have gone. 

Occasionally the mantra appears in my consciousness - maybe unbeknownst to me when I need it most.

Which brings me to the next page of the weekend paper.

Have you read that 'earthing' is the new thing.

Prancing around on the grass in your bare feet. 

Cures just about everything.

I am a pilot now.

On a very cold and windy day the Air Force bought their flight simulator to school. 

And after faffing around with the coffee tea or me business I strapped myself in. Which was no mean feat in heels. My jet was called Colt. I thought that was a little bit exciting. A sign! The other one was Sabre. We flew from Brighton to the RAAF Base Tindal in the NT. There was quite abit of rogering that going on and a few affirmative, negative and eject ejects happening.

It was terrifically exciting but I did feel very queasy at one stage. A couple of stages to be honest. I was a little over exuberant about the thrust. And I didn't keep my nose up.I'm not good with turbulence. So I was pretty happy to get back to earth.

Earthing. 

Get out your winter feet and try it.

Om Namah Shivaya.

In the past week there has been so much grief in the world, such raw pain and and unthinkable sorrow. The faces of those 3 beautiful little children will be indelibly stamped in my consciousness. I read a statement yesterday that "pain does not make a story". However I disagree. I also disagree that pain makes us stronger. 
It doesn't. Not to me anyway.

It just makes our story different.
More interesting than we may have expected it to be.

But within the differences are oft times borne the problems.
Pink and Turquoise - both at different sides of the colour spectrum and yet so lovely together?
And when you don't know what else to say:

Om Namah Shivaya

I love this song of devotion.
'I will follow you into the dark'.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfNVfiqKBeM

Home

The day after the red moon, I flew to Queensland. The moon was actually pink in Brighton. Which was really rather lovely. Like looking through rose coloured glasses.

As we departed Tullamarine and climbed up up up, the moon was still very visible in the sky. 
Albeit no longer pink.

And what struck me was that it looked very very close. 

So if the moon looks very very close, and someone says 'I love you to the moon and back', does this mean you just love them a little bit?

If you love them - don't you just love them?  So many of us are separated by distance that sometimes just the knowledge of that love keeps us going.

And yet we move away from our friends and our families seeking something different in places once unfamiliar to us that sometimes eventually become 'home'.

And sometimes even then we keep on looking.

At the tail end of last year my family became the proud owners of yet another dog. Their 7th dog though only 4 are still with us. His name is Jed. Jed was discovered in the farm shed hovering near death after being attacked by dingoes, full of ticks and extremely malnourished.

They rushed him to a country vet. After weeks of care at the clinic and locating the owner who neither wanted Jed nor wanted the vets account - he was brought back to the Doggy Promised Land where he receives nothing but love, nourishment and care and he has friends to play with and room to run.
(though general opinion is that the rest of the canine posse feel he is slightly rambunctious and annoying).

But Jed seems to need more.

At Christmas Jed decided he needed a little holiday. And so he packed his collar and off he set.

Oh yes - many days and nights were spent fretting over little Jed.

Until he was found and brought 'home'.

At Easter Jed decided he needed another small break. 
And so off he and his collar set again! More days of fretting.
(I am currently checking the calendar for the next religious holiday)
But this time Jed found his own way 'home'. A little hungry but ready to play again. Collective groan from the posse I expect.

While I was in Queensland, aside from demanding my loving Mother make me copious amounts of tea - I caught up with lots of family and friends. And consumed loads of iron! 
I have been feeling very fatigued. The thyroid was ruled out. Drats. 
I could use losing a few kilos fast. But my iron and Vitamin D was extremely low. So along with boiling the kettle my loving Mother researched foods high in iron.

Oysters she cried! Extremely high in iron. Let's get some!
No can do Mumma I cried. 
Too high in zinc - the over active thyroids worst enemy. 
Drats. I do love a nice fat juicy oyster.
Red Meat. Done.
Red Meat. Done.
Red Meat. Getting very tired of red meat now.
Nuts. Done.
Eggs. Done.

Vitamin D - well that was easy. The water temperature was 24' and it was absolutely the most divine Easter weather I can remember.
Mornings were spent in the ocean. 
In that energising frothy thick salty living mass of water I always come alive. 
The water like the the sky is an adventure.
You always need to be aware of unpredictable changes. 

And yet in the water I am always 'home'.

There's been quite a bit of action in the Pineapple Shack since Easter. 
More action than I could ever have expected and certainly nothing I've ever experienced before!
A constant stream of blokes ringing my buzzer and knocking on my door. 


At all hours of the night.
I say! 
I had become a femme fatale without even trying.
It was all a bit odd. 
And then it all became a bit nerve wracking.
And then it became damn annoying.
And then I got very angry.
And then it became VERY scary.
I no longer wanted to come 'home'.

The new residents in the Grove appeared to be not as fine and upstanding as they perhaps should have been. Was I the only one noticing this? 

Granted, the action was on my floor - the top floor, and I do have a very fine view of the comings and goings up and down the runway.

But this was different. This was dodgy. It reeked of dodginess.

Visitors coming and going all hours of the night. 
I mean who has visitors come and stay for 2 minutes and leave. 
Over and over and over again. 
Like I said dodgy, dodgy, dodgy.
My little 'home' felt not quite as safe and comforting as it once had.
There was quite a few nights of tossing and turning. 
I don't think low iron was to blame for this fatigue.
Every noise - what was that?
I slept with one eye open and one ear on alert.
And what to do? I certainly didn't want to end up with a knife at my throat coming out of the lift one night. It was hard enough keeping poker face being IN the lift with the thugs. 
Thank God I had become a femme fatale.
Though by this stage it was the fatale bit I was freaking out about!


A few weeks back I flew up to Far North Queensland for a funeral.
My sister in laws Father passed away unexpectedly yet peacefully at 89 years old. Her Mum and Dad and she and my Mum and Brother and me had been a tight knit little group for many many years.
It was a poignantly sad day.
The morning of the funeral we went to the church for a meeting and a run through with the Priest. 28 years ago this same Priest married my brother and sister in law. It was a hot humid December day back then and the bridal 'party' was just that. We were young and enthusiastic. Father Peter was not so happy with us. He told us we must quieten down and be respectful - we were in God's House.

I had never forgotten this.
And so I said to my nephew - don't forget we are in God's house and we must be quiet and respectful.
After our little run through it was time to lock up the church for the morning.
Father Peter turned to Isaac and said, 'just slam that door shut will you please?'
It seems that God's House had mellowed into a 'Home' over the years and I couldn't help but have a chuckle when Isaac looked at me questioningly.

Andy's funeral was simple yet beautiful. It told the story of his brave and full life. A WWII veteran who had fought with the allies and walked the entire length of Italy two years after the conclusion of the war to reach 'home'. 








He then immigrated to Australia and eventually settled in FNQ as so many hundreds of Italian Immigrants did. Andy's wish was that his ashes be returned to Italy and so as he was driven away for a final time I tearfully bid him a viaggio sicuro. 
I dreamt of Andy a week or so back. He was in the Italian countryside. 
I was at peace that he had safely made it 'home'.




But back to the Pineapple Shack.

It wasn't getting any better. I asked some advice from my most lovely neighbour who also had seen what was going on. We started surveillance. And though we weren't very good at it we were entertaining to say the least. Number one rule of surveillance - if you are sitting on a balcony in the dark turn your phone onto silent! FFS!

Well - Crimestoppers, Police Cars, Sirens, Police Trucks, Drug Squads and Forensics later I think our slightly questionable surveillance has paid off. We beat the bad guys. And I am utterly certain our huge reward is in the mail. Ah....winter in Hawaii!
If nothing else I now have my own Detective on speed dial. 
Doesn't every femme fatale need their own detective on speed dial? 

Joking.





Andy and little Jed never got to meet each other.
But I think they would have gotten on.
Both with adventurous spirits.
And I can understand that. 

Andy wasn't really an Andy. 
He was Adriano. 
I've have had several Adrian's in my life - all of whom I have - to the moon and back dearly loved .. but he was Adriano Numero Uno and always will be.

I read a most interesting headstone recently.
As you do.
It said:

"It isn't the date on either end that counts but how they used their dash.
For the dash between the dates represents all the time they spent alive on earth. And only those who loved them know what that little line is worth".


Recently I have fallen in love with this song.
'Home' - by Gabrielle Aplin off her album' English Rain'.

It is just so beautiful and I encourage you to listen to it.


I'm a phoenix in the water
A fish that's learned to fly
And I've always been a daughter
But feathers are meant for the sky
So I'm wishing, wishing further
For the excitement to arrive
It's just I'd rather be causing the chaos
Than laying at the sharp end of this knife
With every small disaster
I'll let the waters still
Take me away to some place real
'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone
Is where you go when you're alone
Is where you go to rest your bones
It's not just where you lay your head
It's not just where you make your bed
As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?
Home

I'm pretty sure I have found my home - I'm just not there yet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATzTsija1I4

'tu me manques'

Seeing as how I don't speak French, I am not sure if this is true.
But I do know that I love it.
So much so that I have framed it and hung it on the wall in the pineapple shack.

As a self confessed hopeless romantic I feel a certain obligation to make comment come February 14th.
But of late I haven't really been feeling the love.

In fact show me a nice girl who doesn't appreciate a nice boy within a nice arms reach and I will show you a mountain of detritus courtesy of Freedom Furniture or Dare Gallery or Good Guys or you get the picture.
And I will show you a box of Voltaren.

And somewhere in amongst all of that wrapping and scaffolding and cartonage and whatever - I hold grave fears.
Because I have lost a whole bunch of keys. 
To every window and sliding door in my little Pineapple Shack.
AND the letterbox. 
Here was me, my letter of application, "I will be a very quiet tenant, respectful of your property." 

And now I am a common vandal.
Armed with a coat hanger and tongs I crept down to the foyer in the dead of night.
I knew there was 'stuff' in my letterbox. 
And so with the wire and the tongs and my fingers I tried to coax it out of the crack. 
Until ping! The whole front flew open. Scared the life out of me!
It is now permanently open. Never to be shut again - without a key.
I feel the need to dodgy up a few more letterboxes to make it look like an outside job!



I asked the agent about spares. No love there.
I asked the building manager about spares - even less love there.
He said 'HAVE YOU LOST THEM?' With a tone..
I said 'Um no...just temporarily misplaced'. 
Definitely NO. LOVE. THERE.

Next I will show you 15 Allen keys.
Who says my lovely stainless steel fan needs to have it's handle at the top and not the side. Who the hell buys a fan, comes home and unpacks it (more rubbish) and expects to have to put it together themself!  I like it this way, it looks like an ear ..
If I could understand the directions to the air conditioning I actually wouldn't need the fan. But what is the point of having an air conditioner blasting in the living area when you only want it blasting in the bedroom.
The aircon and I are not feeling the love either. 
I am a little hot and bothered.




When I moved in I had the electricity and the gas connected. Obviously.
All rather straight forward.
Until I went to make my favourite chicken and coconut curry.
I admit - I was very slow getting started in the kitchen. The appliances looked so shiny new.
But I certainly knew the oven worked as I had warmed a pizza in it!







I just didn't realise the oven was electricity and the cooktop wasn't.
So I went to light the gas cooktop and you guessed it. No love there.
So I look under the cupboard. Yay -  there is a tap. But it doesn't say ON or OFF.
It doesn't even say gas! All I know is that it is extremely tight and I am not touching it.
Three days later the building manager (the one with the tone) turns it on for me.
And glares!
I am determined to crack him.

The DVD recorder/player was by far my darkest day. Yes, "it's easy" says the 'Good Guy', you just plug it in.
I said "easy for you - you do it every day!" "No he assured me - "it's easy".
So two weeks later I summoned up the courage and unpacked the box. (more rubbish)
Just connect the red to the red, the white to the white, the yellow to the yellow - take the one from the TV and stick it in the DVD and take the one from the DVD and connect it to the wall.
Except there was no yellow hole.
So I just left it hanging.

I put a hibiscus in my hair and I inserted my Hawaii Five-0 DVD for the big alpha testing.
Hit Play. Oh God.
I was certainly hearing the music but Steve McGarret was no-where to be seen.
Not one tiny little bit of Aloha to be found there.  

So I attempted to google 'yellow cable stuff'.
But I don't have Broadband and after a few minutes of frustration trying to read "stuff" off my iPhone I gave up.
And had a little cry. Followed by a little sleep.
Two hours later I emerged to try again.
Nothing. 
The TV is so heavy and the Cabinet so awkward.
Again - I was not feeling the love.
I was feeling a very wet face and by this time my hibiscus had well and truly wilted.



Particularly when I received a text message from Telstra telling me I had used up my monthly gigabyte allowance with 18 days to go!

Further wilting.
But I did have a slight inkling how this may have happened!
Oh yes I well and truly had been feeling the love there.
The day I discovered my own 'Personal Hotspot!'
I have a 'Personal Hotspot!'
Does everyone know about this?
We all have one! It's fabulous.
It's almost mindblowing.
I couldn't believe how simple it was to use!
And instant gratification.
Suddenly my sleeping iPad came alive!
I could play Words on both my iPad and on my iPhone.
I could play with myself.
And win.
Every time.
I was completely enamoured with my own 'Personal Hotspot'.
Until that text message. Followed by the bill.
Oh dear.
Who would have thought my own 'Personal Hotspot' would be worth THAT much.
I SAY! It is pretty damn wonderful I'll be the first to admit but ..
Oh my!

So. I have now deactivated my 'Personal Hotspot' and I have promised myself it is only to be accessed in times of dark and dire desperation.
Like when Steve McGarret is no-where in sight.

I decided that I would go back to that 'Good Guy' and demand he explain to me exactly what needed to go where. 
I am a woman who needs clarity!
So I stuck my arm down behind the TV to take a picture to show him.
Because the TV is too heavy for me to to move.
But when I looked at the picture on the screen of my iPhone I instantly saw something yellow.

It wasn't marked 'yellow' like the red was marked 'red' and the white was marked 'white'.
But inside the hole was yellow.
Pineapple yellow. 
Tentative hope sprung.
And ever so cautiously I plugged the yellow cable into the yellow hole. 
And there he was. 
Steve McGarret.           
In my own little pineapple shack. 

Relief washed over me.
In so many ways.
I was content.
No 'Personal Hotspot' required.

Happy Valentine's Day.
I hope you too are feeling the love.