About this time last year I recorded a blog about the crows in our trees I believe. It culminated in my standing on a ladder, with the pool cleaning pole attached to 2 golf clubs, poking at the big nest at the top of the tree till I destroyed it. Not that it did too much good to be fair, the b&stard crows still pecked the sh&t out of the wooden part of our balcony doors which, since then, we have had to cover up with a buggy board. Very classy.
Anyway, winter of course passed, and with the later mornings and early evenings and relative"cold" (whatever!) the whole bird thing dropped to the back of my focus. Now, Alissa has said all along that I'll get used to the morning bird cacophany - and at that stage I guess I thought maybe I was getting used to it. Then summer began its merry descent (ascent?) choking back our morning starts to a criminally bright 4.00am. The earlier the sun came up, the earlier the dawn chorus of bird clatter started. Thus, the earlier I would wake, and then - even worse - the earlier Aibhe's average waking time became. Me waking was not too much of an issue, I jam in the ear-plugs and away we go. Poor little Aibhe however - once properly woken at 4am or thereabouts, that would be it. Up we all get.
All along, Alissa would say, Aibhe has got to get used to it - as its what she'll have to grow up with. Which I completely understand, though that does you no good whatsoever when you KNOW she's being woken by the ridiculous din outside her window every stupid o'clock. It all came to an unacceptable head when the tree RIGHT OUTSIDE both Aibhe and our bedroom windows flowered beautifully - creating a very colourful skyline from these bedrooms. However, with the wonderful flowering, came a flock about 20 lorikeets eating up the tree contents - they're a little like mini-Parrots with fantastic plumage - all very pretty etc. But they're noisy f&ckers. For 2 weeks I'd wake with a start as they'd suddenly decide to start a fight and cack as loudly as possible - waking Aibhe to boot. I tried stoning them out of there, but it became too hard and too risky in so far as I was seriously in danger of smashing through the neighbours window. I wanted the tree gone, but Alissa wasn't convinced till she had 2 afternoons running where the b&stard lorikeets smashed Aibhe out of her afternoon nap mid-way through - creating a cranky baby for the remainder of each day. Enough was enough. Our tree man who had done a job for us earlier in the year, cutting our tree's back and thus restricting the possum vaults onto our roof to a more acceptable number, happened to be next door one day so........
I arrived home to find a stump where the old lorikeets home used to be.
Now while this has not eradicted the bird noise issue by any means, it has helped significantly I reckon. Though I believe I will always, always be in need of the ear plugs to get me through those troublesome early hours.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Culture comes to Vegas....
..... in the form of Verekai by Cirque de Soleil. An incredible 2 hours of colour, music, acrobatics and even some humour thrown in. I honestly can’t remember them visiting
So, that’s it for a while methinks in the culture stakes for the drought south east Queensland city.
I recently attended a stag/bucks "day" – involving the races at Eagle Farm near the city. At the end of the whole event, I guess I can still stay I just don’t get the whole horse racing mullarky. Even if you do have a private tent and a beer tab for the entire day and its 30 degrees and sunny. Maybe if I’d won a few wagers I’d feel differently, however my day long loyalty to the Irish sounding jockey Jim Byrne – proved misplaced in the end. Each way bets really don't mean big payouts.
I try not to plug too much information into here regarding our “wee” girl – acutely aware as I am of boring the non-parent community, and even the parents who already know all this.
But she is now probably only a couple of weeks away from taking her first steps. Since she’s taken to crawling, the change has been amazing to witness in that she transformed so quickly into a smiley happy kid, having been frustrated by the inability to move for over a month. The kilo’s are well and truly there, as is the asthma and the few bouts of ear infection, but to her credit, she brushes it all off with the grace and dignity of a heavyweight boxer. Not a big fan of the dollies just yet. But she will be.
We're just back from a week in Noosa - still as beautiful as ever (for the family, this time we stayed near the main shopping/restaurant area as opposed to Sunshine Beach where we were last year). With child, the holiday is certainly different. Was going great guns, happier than the proverbial baby in a bucket of ice cream........... till she got hit by some tummy bug (maybe it was the ice-cream?) which blew it all asunder for a couple of days. Screaming in the middle of the night like we've never heard from her before, which I reckon most of Noosa main beach apartments could hear. When you find both of you sitting on the floor at 2.30am playing clap handies and peek-a-boo over and over with a wide awake baby, there can be a tendency to think what holiday? However, 2 grizzly days and sleepless nights later she was back again.
While in Noosa, we had wall to wall Ashes cricket coverage. Now don't get me wrong, I am certainly not a fan. The Ashes tests however grab the attention of the Australian nation - like Ireland during World Cup fever time (ahh, remember those days - we thought they'd never end - well actually,
we did and they well and truly have by the looks of it). Anything where the Poms are involved, the Aussies are interested. While every area of the country has their loyalties in their respective football codes, when it comes to cricket - they are at one. The 2nd test was actually quite interesting in how it all panned out. First, the English were well on top, then after a long hard battle the Aussies clawed their way back to the extent that a draw was pretty much inevitable. Till the English second innings melted away like an ice-cream cone in the Brisbane summer and the Aussies came back in and walloped their way to a 2-0 lead in a couple of hours. Apologies to all my English cricketing friends, but the reaction here was really quite hilarious.As Christmas approaches once again, the one year anniversaries of arrival into
I hope you all are enjoying this drinking season. By the sounds of the weather there's not much else to do. I still remember with fond affection the Christmas that DG and I managed to drink a minimum of 4 pints a night for the entire month of December. One night somewhere in there when nothing was actually on, I think DG stayed in and did the drinking on his own just to keep the momentum going. Always was a wise man.
I'll write again before the day comes. For now, its bye bye holidays for a while and roll on work on Monday. Not too bad to be honest.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Where Bevans dare and CSI
As a precursor, a "bevan" is kind of the equivalent of an Irish bogger, with a mullet twist. Also called "bogans" in the south. See http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bevan
Anyway. I had often wondered in bemusement at the type of teenage "rural" America that would often be described in the songs of Springsteen (though a New Jersey boy), Jackson Browne and John Cougar (in his non-Mellancamp days) amongst others. The stories of the street and the cars and the drag racing and the Saturday night driving round and round endlessly. We recently spent a weekend in Maroochydore, about and hour north of here - right on the Sunshine Coast (of course a long long way due west of the U.S. and those drag racers). The hotel was situated on a pretty busy road, the other side of which was the beach. As Saturday evening drew near, the traffic on the road began to build with the most unbelieveably inappropriately suped-up motors I have seen in a long time. 15 and 20 year old former bangers, dressed up to the nines with gleaming alloys, tinted windows, bonnet loaded air distributers, 6 foot wide exhaust pipes........ roaring up and down the street and shooting off the blocks when standing at traffic lights. Of course, into the mix, ye have to add the wheelie-mad motorcyclists that spluttered their way around and around. I sat in amazement looking down at them as they re-appeared every 20 minutes or so having "done the loop". All night long.
The next day, they retreated to the hills. Or so I'm told.
This was indeed the first trip to the beach with Aibhe, and our first trip for this summer. Though its still technically early Spring of course. The "cold" water held no fear - no stopping Alex and myself chucking ourselves in for the first bit of body surfing of the new season. Aibhe seemed to enjoy the occasion as she attempted to eat handful after handful of sand - which all comes out the other end in a not so easy fashion,
but I believe its how they ultimately learn not to eat the stuff. Constantly whacking their heads is again, another way they apparantly learn how not to try standing up against unstable tables/chairs/peeple/doors. However, at 8 months, Aibhe is pretty determined to progress to the walking stage far earlier than would be expected. So, while our lives have already been altered dramatically with her quick crawling abilities, they're about to get worse.
On to Miami. I was sent to Miami last week for a 2 day Boeing maintenance workshop (exciting I hear you say) with other air operators from the America's. I can easily say, we came the farthest and that it was NOT a junket. To get there, the route taken was BNE-SYD-LAX-OHD (Chicago)-MIA. But coming back, even better. MIA-Washington-Vegas-LAX-SYD-BNE. 30 hours there and 33 back. For 2 days. On United Airlines, who still seem to believe we operate in the 70's. If you ever travel in the U.S. ..... lets just say they wouldn't be my first choice. Actually, they're shit. Oh, and they lost my bag on the way back. The event itself was useful work-wise and we met some interesting people to say the least. In particular, Angel the part-hispanic Continental Airlines maintenance planning chap who, after 2 drinks on the evening of the first day insisted on trying to do Australian and Irish accents for our "entertainment". For about an hour. After 3 drinks he was practically falling over and semi-accosted the very nice lady who had co-ordinated the entire event for Boeing!! He was a little sheepish the next morning.
I would love to describe Miami, but didn't get much time to check it out. The Marriott hotel was quite nice. There were a lot of cranes and large tracts of building sites, so I guess thats a good sign for the place - despite the constant hurricane threat, its booming. And Ocean Drive along South Beach was pretty cool - though the beach itself pales in comparison to the Sunshine Coast. 17 years since I was first there with Kieran on our first J1 travels. Man that makes me feel bloody old. Am slowly recovering from the trip, having got in at 9am Sunday morning - though ye could say I had barely adjusted to the time difference when I was back again. Oh, and I saw the territory where Horatio and the rest of the CSI Miami team operate. If one was to look for bright sides of course.
Anyway. I had often wondered in bemusement at the type of teenage "rural" America that would often be described in the songs of Springsteen (though a New Jersey boy), Jackson Browne and John Cougar (in his non-Mellancamp days) amongst others. The stories of the street and the cars and the drag racing and the Saturday night driving round and round endlessly. We recently spent a weekend in Maroochydore, about and hour north of here - right on the Sunshine Coast (of course a long long way due west of the U.S. and those drag racers). The hotel was situated on a pretty busy road, the other side of which was the beach. As Saturday evening drew near, the traffic on the road began to build with the most unbelieveably inappropriately suped-up motors I have seen in a long time. 15 and 20 year old former bangers, dressed up to the nines with gleaming alloys, tinted windows, bonnet loaded air distributers, 6 foot wide exhaust pipes........ roaring up and down the street and shooting off the blocks when standing at traffic lights. Of course, into the mix, ye have to add the wheelie-mad motorcyclists that spluttered their way around and around. I sat in amazement looking down at them as they re-appeared every 20 minutes or so having "done the loop". All night long.
The next day, they retreated to the hills. Or so I'm told.
This was indeed the first trip to the beach with Aibhe, and our first trip for this summer. Though its still technically early Spring of course. The "cold" water held no fear - no stopping Alex and myself chucking ourselves in for the first bit of body surfing of the new season. Aibhe seemed to enjoy the occasion as she attempted to eat handful after handful of sand - which all comes out the other end in a not so easy fashion,
but I believe its how they ultimately learn not to eat the stuff. Constantly whacking their heads is again, another way they apparantly learn how not to try standing up against unstable tables/chairs/peeple/doors. However, at 8 months, Aibhe is pretty determined to progress to the walking stage far earlier than would be expected. So, while our lives have already been altered dramatically with her quick crawling abilities, they're about to get worse.On to Miami. I was sent to Miami last week for a 2 day Boeing maintenance workshop (exciting I hear you say) with other air operators from the America's. I can easily say, we came the farthest and that it was NOT a junket. To get there, the route taken was BNE-SYD-LAX-OHD (Chicago)-MIA. But coming back, even better. MIA-Washington-Vegas-LAX-SYD-BNE. 30 hours there and 33 back. For 2 days. On United Airlines, who still seem to believe we operate in the 70's. If you ever travel in the U.S. ..... lets just say they wouldn't be my first choice. Actually, they're shit. Oh, and they lost my bag on the way back. The event itself was useful work-wise and we met some interesting people to say the least. In particular, Angel the part-hispanic Continental Airlines maintenance planning chap who, after 2 drinks on the evening of the first day insisted on trying to do Australian and Irish accents for our "entertainment". For about an hour. After 3 drinks he was practically falling over and semi-accosted the very nice lady who had co-ordinated the entire event for Boeing!! He was a little sheepish the next morning.
I would love to describe Miami, but didn't get much time to check it out. The Marriott hotel was quite nice. There were a lot of cranes and large tracts of building sites, so I guess thats a good sign for the place - despite the constant hurricane threat, its booming. And Ocean Drive along South Beach was pretty cool - though the beach itself pales in comparison to the Sunshine Coast. 17 years since I was first there with Kieran on our first J1 travels. Man that makes me feel bloody old. Am slowly recovering from the trip, having got in at 9am Sunday morning - though ye could say I had barely adjusted to the time difference when I was back again. Oh, and I saw the territory where Horatio and the rest of the CSI Miami team operate. If one was to look for bright sides of course.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Congrats to lil sister & Ferg
So the youngest of the Foley siblings is now pregnant with precious little time "trying". Hard luck Ferg but I know the feeling.
Another cousin for Aibhe arriving in April. Hoooorrrayyyy.
It is public knowledge now.
Another cousin for Aibhe arriving in April. Hoooorrrayyyy.
It is public knowledge now.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Go the Bronco's!!
If only I had any reasonable amount of interest in rugby league I'd be celebrating with a hangover today after the Brisbane Bronco's won the National Rugby League (NRL) Final last night, beating Melbourne 15-8. Being a bloke, and the NRL representing a sport of some kind thats not cricket, of course I watched it. I had been keeping half an eye on results during the season making sure "my" local side were there or thereabouts (so much so that I knew the names of about two thirds of the Bronco's players - again, its a bloke thing, we absorb useful information like this). It is a little bizarre though. I mean, poor old Melbourne ("the Storm") - they played the entire season at the top of their game, losing only once and finishing a gazillion points clear at the top of the Premiership - yet, they still had to go through the play-offs and then get beaten in the final by the Bronco's. I'm told the Bronco's have the art of peaking at the right time nailed down.
And in case you're interested, the Aussie Rules final was won by the West Coast Eagles from Perth - beating the Sydney Swans. 2 birds with great wing-spans flapping it out in the grand final. By a single point, 85-84, the first time a final was settled by a point in 40 years I was told. Fascinating stuff eh? While this final was going on I was on the golf course blitzing my way round to a burnt nose and a staggering 43 stableford points. Go me. Thats the handicap pulled back to under 16 now and another comp win for me in Indooroopilly in just under a year. Though i have to say, the 18 handicap was nice - there was something comforting about having a shot at every hole.
The weekend just passed began with Aibhe being passed to her grandparents at 4.30 Friday evening for her to spend the night there, thus facilitating.....
- Alissa coming to join me for a few beers after my work finished
- our heading to a Tepanyaki dinner at the Stamford Plaza (my first time...!!)
- us getting home by about 10 for a relaxing drink
- within 20 minutes, us both dozing off on the couch with our rum and cokes in hand (by about 10.30pm)
- us waking bright-eyed and bushy tailed well before 7am
- us being at a cafe nearby by 8am to have breakfast in the sun
So, even with ample opportunity, we really did not maximise the sleeping-in possibilities. Guess it might be a few more years before Aibhe is bringing us our breakfast in bed?
And in case you're interested, the Aussie Rules final was won by the West Coast Eagles from Perth - beating the Sydney Swans. 2 birds with great wing-spans flapping it out in the grand final. By a single point, 85-84, the first time a final was settled by a point in 40 years I was told. Fascinating stuff eh? While this final was going on I was on the golf course blitzing my way round to a burnt nose and a staggering 43 stableford points. Go me. Thats the handicap pulled back to under 16 now and another comp win for me in Indooroopilly in just under a year. Though i have to say, the 18 handicap was nice - there was something comforting about having a shot at every hole.
The weekend just passed began with Aibhe being passed to her grandparents at 4.30 Friday evening for her to spend the night there, thus facilitating.....
- Alissa coming to join me for a few beers after my work finished
- our heading to a Tepanyaki dinner at the Stamford Plaza (my first time...!!)
- us getting home by about 10 for a relaxing drink
- within 20 minutes, us both dozing off on the couch with our rum and cokes in hand (by about 10.30pm)
- us waking bright-eyed and bushy tailed well before 7am
- us being at a cafe nearby by 8am to have breakfast in the sun
So, even with ample opportunity, we really did not maximise the sleeping-in possibilities. Guess it might be a few more years before Aibhe is bringing us our breakfast in bed?
Friday, September 22, 2006
ER - Brisbane style
Many of you will have experienced Casualty/Emergency area's in the likes of Beaumont and the Mater. And of course on ER where its always snowing in Chicago for some reason. I have experienced these first hand/leg myself (not the Chicago sneachta). Paying a visit is usually a very last resort and means you've either broken an arm/leg in a football match, or you've fallen down drunk and woke the next day to find the wrist really is "quite sore". Nobody "likes" going - it usually means being prepared for a decent 5 or 6 hour stint of misery - longer if its Friday or Saturday and you're in with the self-inflicted injury drunks. Alissa particularly enjoyed being asked for money by some nice people as she waited (with her ticket) to be seen in the Rotunda - when she was 4 months pregnant.
So, it was armed with this experience that I contemplated bringing Aibhe into Emergency last night. Earlier, the doc had said to Alissa that if the temperature didn't calm down and/or the breathing didn't relax a bit - to take her into hospital. We reckoned we could handle it at home, but the poor "little" thing was pretty miserable and her temp stayed up. So it was with great trepidation (and a touch of curiosity on my part) that the decision to head to hospital at 9.30pm was taken.
Arriving at the Wesley Hospital - the first thing that hit me. Peace. Serenity. Total calm.
A friendly lady at the (completely open, non glass-panelled) Emergency reception desk took our details immediately, and 2 minutes later a nurse arrived to bring us to a private area to take Aibhe's stats (vital signs is probably the word but ER hasn't been on for a while and I don't watch Gray's Anatomy or House so there's probably a more up to date expression now). An apology then followed (as all the "normal" waiting rooms/areas was busy) as she led us to another area to wait for a consultant. Looked fine to me. Still, serenity reigned all around. 5 minutes later, a consultant arrived. Asked his questions, checked Aibhe & immediately decided to put her on a nebuliser for a few minutes. Came back about 20 mins later once the ventalin had time to take effect - checked Aibhe again- noticed improvement. In this time he had called our Paediatrician and booked us in to see him the following morning. Another nurse then came around shortly thereafter with some stuff (panadol and steroids I think) which she gave Aibhe and then sat us down again for another few minutes on the nebuliser - see picture (I would like to say this was taken with Alissa's camera phone, but no, Alissa has the camera for all occasions). 10 minutes later, off ye go. Waves and goodbyes from the nurses and we were off home. Mind you the reception lady did mention that it tends to be a little busier on match nights. Not every Friday and Saturday, just match nights.
Anyway, think we were back home in bed by 11. For the best night's sleep of the week for all concerned.
Think I had a dream about Beaumont casualty dept.
So, it was armed with this experience that I contemplated bringing Aibhe into Emergency last night. Earlier, the doc had said to Alissa that if the temperature didn't calm down and/or the breathing didn't relax a bit - to take her into hospital. We reckoned we could handle it at home, but the poor "little" thing was pretty miserable and her temp stayed up. So it was with great trepidation (and a touch of curiosity on my part) that the decision to head to hospital at 9.30pm was taken.
Arriving at the Wesley Hospital - the first thing that hit me. Peace. Serenity. Total calm.
A friendly lady at the (completely open, non glass-panelled) Emergency reception desk took our details immediately, and 2 minutes later a nurse arrived to bring us to a private area to take Aibhe's stats (vital signs is probably the word but ER hasn't been on for a while and I don't watch Gray's Anatomy or House so there's probably a more up to date expression now). An apology then followed (as all the "normal" waiting rooms/areas was busy) as she led us to another area to wait for a consultant. Looked fine to me. Still, serenity reigned all around. 5 minutes later, a consultant arrived. Asked his questions, checked Aibhe & immediately decided to put her on a nebuliser for a few minutes. Came back about 20 mins later once the ventalin had time to take effect - checked Aibhe again- noticed improvement. In this time he had called our Paediatrician and booked us in to see him the following morning. Another nurse then came around shortly thereafter with some stuff (panadol and steroids I think) which she gave Aibhe and then sat us down again for another few minutes on the nebuliser - see picture (I would like to say this was taken with Alissa's camera phone, but no, Alissa has the camera for all occasions). 10 minutes later, off ye go. Waves and goodbyes from the nurses and we were off home. Mind you the reception lady did mention that it tends to be a little busier on match nights. Not every Friday and Saturday, just match nights.Anyway, think we were back home in bed by 11. For the best night's sleep of the week for all concerned.
Think I had a dream about Beaumont casualty dept.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Wired
........ the follow up album to Fused from one Michael McGoldrick (best trad flute player in the world probably) is out, for those of you interested. I know there are many out there who got hooked on Fused (after my incessant plugging and playing of it) so this one is of a similar ilk. And another fine effort it is too. I am not on commission.
Not to dwell on last month too much, but with many many trips to the doc and some drugs, "little" Aibhe recovered and twas great to have her back to her old smiling happy self. Unfortunately, she's now sick again. Say no more. Month 2. Tick.
A brief one this time round, as not an awful lot has happened in recent weeks - aside from the amazingly quick changes and developments we see in Aibhe almost day to day. Walking by Christmas probably - doesn't appear to be too bothered with crawling (forwards).
Work has been pretty crazy of late - been doing interview after interview to get someone into my old position so I can move into my new role. Employee's market here at the moment but its funny to be interviewing people again - especially when half of them are non-Aussies fresh off the plane from the UK or Ireland.
One line on the weather. Due to hit 30 this weekend. Early Spring and all that.
Not to dwell on last month too much, but with many many trips to the doc and some drugs, "little" Aibhe recovered and twas great to have her back to her old smiling happy self. Unfortunately, she's now sick again. Say no more. Month 2. Tick.
A brief one this time round, as not an awful lot has happened in recent weeks - aside from the amazingly quick changes and developments we see in Aibhe almost day to day. Walking by Christmas probably - doesn't appear to be too bothered with crawling (forwards).
Work has been pretty crazy of late - been doing interview after interview to get someone into my old position so I can move into my new role. Employee's market here at the moment but its funny to be interviewing people again - especially when half of them are non-Aussies fresh off the plane from the UK or Ireland.
One line on the weather. Due to hit 30 this weekend. Early Spring and all that.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
As the month of ill-gust draws to a close
... good bloody riddance to it. 1 single day in day care for Aibhe at the start of the month and thus began the series of illnesses that we've still not managed to shake. First for poor Aibhe came the common cold, with associated snotty nose and general lethargy. As that appeared to ease, Alissa finally fell victim to a combination of sinus & chest infections in addition to a dodgy bug which did the insides no good at all. Of course she only discovered the extent of her own sickness as she brought Aibhe to the doc to be checked out for hers. Its the mother martyr thing. So, as Alissa finally began to recover on those horse tablets she was prescribed, Aibhe decided to get the vomits. Now, the only thing we can say is that she may have been planning for such an event given the amount of storage she had been packing away in her arms, legs and cheeks in the last few months. She wasn't going to fade away too quickly bless her. As she began to recover from that one...... there was I thinking of myself as bullet proof and that the Guinness infused Irish blood was keeping me healthy. Till of course I got floored by a virus last week, on the eve of our first weekend trip away (to Sydney - more of that anon) without Aibhe. This was not aided by my slamming into a clear glass panel at the entrance to the local pharmacy when looking to get some Lemsip, which cut my nose (thats easy I hear you say) and left a nice s
welling at the top of my honker and in both eyes for the weekend. Am sure I looked a picture of health on the plane to Sydney. Then I recovered a bit, so Aibhe progressed to anti-biotics stage with this bloody ever lasting chest infection. They didn't do her any good at all, so we took her off them and now she's away to have a chest X-ray today. Unfortunately, she may also be stuck with Asthma but we will see.
They say once you enter your child in day care, expect sickness for a year. Thats 1 month down. 11 to go. Woo-fricken-hoo.
In amongst all of the above, you will have deduced that Aibhe beginning day care, signalled the recommencement of work for Alissa. 2 days a week at Cottee Parker. Gets the brain ticking over again and adds some welcome income into the pot for Aibhe to devour.
So taking all of the above into account, August was a relatively quiet month. Though we did have the inaugral Virgin Blue Charity ball at the start of the month which we attended, in the company of Mr Branson amongst a few politicians, local celebs and high rollers. One paid $100,000 to name our latest plane - Lady Rebecca which co-incidentally we flew back in from Sydney. However, the organisers didn't quite get a couple of things right, namely transport to and from the airport hangar which was pretty brutal (especially on a chilly winter night when the ladies are bedecked in dresses and high heel shoes), as was the number of female toilets (as usual at these events). Us thoughtful considerate men gave up the use of our toilets to the ladies by pee-ing along the runway fence, always allowing at least 2 yards gap per bloke for cross-winds. They should plant a few lemon trees out there now and they'd certainly flourish. We even managed to get into the pictures of the evening...... see if you can find us..... http://seq.thejuice.com.au/juicypics/showevent.asp?eventID=736. Just a shame the main band was an Australian version of Westlife. Almost like Heathrow airport for me.
Then of course there was our Sydney weekend - just passed.
During which I pretty much felt like kangaroo -shit, until of course the morning we were leaving when I began to feel almost human again. Sydney harbour still is absolutely stunning, and the city..... just so fricken big compared to here.... but then, overall I think I'm happy not to be living there and just able to visit basically as often as we like. Anyway, we wouldn't be able to afford to live the equivalent life there to what we live here. The house prices are up there with Dublin's - not too many spectacular harbour views in Ringsend though.
Ahh Dublin. The Dubs. The silly ole Dubs. Falling again just shy of the finishing line with Kerry in their sight. And to Mayo? Lads lads. We could almost have relived the 70's and early 80's football finals. Them were the days. Despite my childlike (I was a child) inane hatred of the Spillanes, Liston, Sheehy, Nelligan, O'Shea... etc, the extent of my mantra back then was "Up the Dubs, down Kerry" - repeated ad nauseum. Vicious eh?
welling at the top of my honker and in both eyes for the weekend. Am sure I looked a picture of health on the plane to Sydney. Then I recovered a bit, so Aibhe progressed to anti-biotics stage with this bloody ever lasting chest infection. They didn't do her any good at all, so we took her off them and now she's away to have a chest X-ray today. Unfortunately, she may also be stuck with Asthma but we will see.They say once you enter your child in day care, expect sickness for a year. Thats 1 month down. 11 to go. Woo-fricken-hoo.
In amongst all of the above, you will have deduced that Aibhe beginning day care, signalled the recommencement of work for Alissa. 2 days a week at Cottee Parker. Gets the brain ticking over again and adds some welcome income into the pot for Aibhe to devour.
So taking all of the above into account, August was a relatively quiet month. Though we did have the inaugral Virgin Blue Charity ball at the start of the month which we attended, in the company of Mr Branson amongst a few politicians, local celebs and high rollers. One paid $100,000 to name our latest plane - Lady Rebecca which co-incidentally we flew back in from Sydney. However, the organisers didn't quite get a couple of things right, namely transport to and from the airport hangar which was pretty brutal (especially on a chilly winter night when the ladies are bedecked in dresses and high heel shoes), as was the number of female toilets (as usual at these events). Us thoughtful considerate men gave up the use of our toilets to the ladies by pee-ing along the runway fence, always allowing at least 2 yards gap per bloke for cross-winds. They should plant a few lemon trees out there now and they'd certainly flourish. We even managed to get into the pictures of the evening...... see if you can find us..... http://seq.thejuice.com.au/juicypics/showevent.asp?eventID=736. Just a shame the main band was an Australian version of Westlife. Almost like Heathrow airport for me.
Then of course there was our Sydney weekend - just passed.
During which I pretty much felt like kangaroo -shit, until of course the morning we were leaving when I began to feel almost human again. Sydney harbour still is absolutely stunning, and the city..... just so fricken big compared to here.... but then, overall I think I'm happy not to be living there and just able to visit basically as often as we like. Anyway, we wouldn't be able to afford to live the equivalent life there to what we live here. The house prices are up there with Dublin's - not too many spectacular harbour views in Ringsend though.Ahh Dublin. The Dubs. The silly ole Dubs. Falling again just shy of the finishing line with Kerry in their sight. And to Mayo? Lads lads. We could almost have relived the 70's and early 80's football finals. Them were the days. Despite my childlike (I was a child) inane hatred of the Spillanes, Liston, Sheehy, Nelligan, O'Shea... etc, the extent of my mantra back then was "Up the Dubs, down Kerry" - repeated ad nauseum. Vicious eh?
Sunday, August 13, 2006
And now "the box" arrived so THANKS to all!!
The box of presents we received while at home got here (after some time mind you) so I can finally do the BIG thank you's for the clothes, the toys, the blankets, the bibs.....so here goes....
Maura & Dennis (and Madeline)
Noel & Angela (& the kids of course)
Andy, Ann & Aoife (& Aoife again!)
Liam, Deirdre & Ryan
Michele, Brian & Aisling
Suzanne, Philip & Maitiú
Sandra, Darren & Niamh & KÃla
Louise, Dermot & Sarah
Lyn & Dave
Michelle & Ginge
Siobhan (T)
Sheila (T)
Maureen & Peter
Gráinne (D)
Lisa
Caroline
Syl & Lauren
Peggy
Mary P
Cora & Aoife
Gav & Clare, Laura & Karl
Ken & Annemarie, Jake & Abby
Dave & Sue
Jen & Adam
Deester
Rhona & Jason (Jack & Leo)
Matt & Sinead (& Ben)
Rach
Pat, Veva
Pete & Trish
B & Jo
Sinead, Ferg, Mum, Dad.............. for the Christening jewellery and everything else
and thanks...from Aibhe......
Maura & Dennis (and Madeline)
Noel & Angela (& the kids of course)
Andy, Ann & Aoife (& Aoife again!)
Liam, Deirdre & Ryan
Michele, Brian & Aisling
Suzanne, Philip & Maitiú
Sandra, Darren & Niamh & KÃla
Louise, Dermot & Sarah
Lyn & Dave
Michelle & Ginge
Siobhan (T)
Sheila (T)
Maureen & Peter
Gráinne (D)
Lisa
Caroline
Syl & Lauren
Peggy
Mary P
Cora & Aoife
Gav & Clare, Laura & Karl
Ken & Annemarie, Jake & Abby
Dave & Sue
Jen & Adam
Deester
Rhona & Jason (Jack & Leo)
Matt & Sinead (& Ben)
Rach
Pat, Veva
Pete & Trish
B & Jo
Sinead, Ferg, Mum, Dad.............. for the Christening jewellery and everything else
and thanks...from Aibhe......
Friday, July 28, 2006
Welcome new web cam world members
We have 2 new additions to our list of web cam correspondants since we arrived back. Ferg and Sinead now firmly within broadcast range in their own gaf (as opposed to running over to Chalfont at silly hours to see us on Mum & Dad's web cam) and NOW we have Gav & Clare in our sights. 
I think Gav's comment along the lines of "this is bloody fantastic and really f&ckin easy" sums it up quite nicely. While totally unnecesary to some, to us, its a heaven send. Ye just need to do it once every so often to keep ye going just that bit more smoothly - like having the pictures just to remind ye.........
And there was a happy end to the missing bag/buggy tale. But it went something like this. 3 days after we got home a bag arrived (granted, identical to ours......) - wrong buggy, so back it went. 3 days following this, after many, many, many calls (answered and unanswered) a buggy arrived in the airport with our names on it. No bag, no nothing else, and certainly not our colour. They didn't even get to send it out as I was somewhat certain it wasn't the one. At this point we were giving up and preparing to fork out for the rather bloody expensive replacement and then hope for the best on insurance. But finally, 2 days after this, another bag arrived and hoooorrrrayyyyyy, it was ours.... the relief on getting it back almost overtakes any desire to pummel the cr&p out of the f&ckwits at LHR who could not read the baggage tag - as the original tag (put on in Dublin 9 days earlier) which stated exactly which airports it was going to and hence its final destination - was still on it!!!! I won't get started on LHR again. Makes me crawl.
Lets just say I think some contacts within the airline industry may have had an impact for us as we were told that there were 3,000 lost buggies floating around LHR. But finally - Aibhe could return to the levels of travelling comfort she had become accustomed to. And we could go back to be able to push her in it.
Well now. We'll be heading into renovation mode in a few months time - rather than move house again (I think moving across the world and having a baby is enough major activity for 1 year) we've decided to build in "underneath" the house. No, that does not mean digging 10 feet underground to build a bomb shelter type dwelling - Queenslander homes are predominantly built on "stilts" (to allow the air to flow freely and keep the place cool) and so one has the option if one so desires, to "build-in" the area under the house. Thats the plan anyway so twill enable the accommodating of visitors from near or far even easier. But, builders being the same the world over, God only knows when this will all start - however, Geoff has kindly completed our designs.
The new Premiership season is nearly upon us. YAYYYYY. These World Cup years are wonderful, there's barely a break in football coverage. While I'm a bit biased, Liverpool do look like a good outside bet for the Premiership. Some tidy new signings, and some of the dross has been off-loaded. Mind you, there's still a bit of that to be done Rafa. Anyway, bring it on I say. And now that Duff has left Chelski, we may get some local young Irish support back into our fold - Cian????
2 nights ago we had our first attempt at getting Aibhe to sleep through the night. She passed this rather major milestone quite admiraby, sleeping from 7pm to 6am. And this morning she went right through to 7am bless her. Of course, it didn't mean a better sleep for the pair of us muppets as we keep waking wondering if she'd woken.
Not surprisingly, she is having no issues with moving onto solid food - anything we give her, she eats. Tell ye what though, it has quite an impact on the nappy content. Even I had my first convulsing gag while changing one a few days back. I thought I'd be brave enough to just breath normally as I was doing it. Bad decision.
I think Gav's comment along the lines of "this is bloody fantastic and really f&ckin easy" sums it up quite nicely. While totally unnecesary to some, to us, its a heaven send. Ye just need to do it once every so often to keep ye going just that bit more smoothly - like having the pictures just to remind ye.........And there was a happy end to the missing bag/buggy tale. But it went something like this. 3 days after we got home a bag arrived (granted, identical to ours......) - wrong buggy, so back it went. 3 days following this, after many, many, many calls (answered and unanswered) a buggy arrived in the airport with our names on it. No bag, no nothing else, and certainly not our colour. They didn't even get to send it out as I was somewhat certain it wasn't the one. At this point we were giving up and preparing to fork out for the rather bloody expensive replacement and then hope for the best on insurance. But finally, 2 days after this, another bag arrived and hoooorrrrayyyyyy, it was ours.... the relief on getting it back almost overtakes any desire to pummel the cr&p out of the f&ckwits at LHR who could not read the baggage tag - as the original tag (put on in Dublin 9 days earlier) which stated exactly which airports it was going to and hence its final destination - was still on it!!!! I won't get started on LHR again. Makes me crawl.
Lets just say I think some contacts within the airline industry may have had an impact for us as we were told that there were 3,000 lost buggies floating around LHR. But finally - Aibhe could return to the levels of travelling comfort she had become accustomed to. And we could go back to be able to push her in it.Well now. We'll be heading into renovation mode in a few months time - rather than move house again (I think moving across the world and having a baby is enough major activity for 1 year) we've decided to build in "underneath" the house. No, that does not mean digging 10 feet underground to build a bomb shelter type dwelling - Queenslander homes are predominantly built on "stilts" (to allow the air to flow freely and keep the place cool) and so one has the option if one so desires, to "build-in" the area under the house. Thats the plan anyway so twill enable the accommodating of visitors from near or far even easier. But, builders being the same the world over, God only knows when this will all start - however, Geoff has kindly completed our designs.
The new Premiership season is nearly upon us. YAYYYYY. These World Cup years are wonderful, there's barely a break in football coverage. While I'm a bit biased, Liverpool do look like a good outside bet for the Premiership. Some tidy new signings, and some of the dross has been off-loaded. Mind you, there's still a bit of that to be done Rafa. Anyway, bring it on I say. And now that Duff has left Chelski, we may get some local young Irish support back into our fold - Cian????
2 nights ago we had our first attempt at getting Aibhe to sleep through the night. She passed this rather major milestone quite admiraby, sleeping from 7pm to 6am. And this morning she went right through to 7am bless her. Of course, it didn't mean a better sleep for the pair of us muppets as we keep waking wondering if she'd woken.Not surprisingly, she is having no issues with moving onto solid food - anything we give her, she eats. Tell ye what though, it has quite an impact on the nappy content. Even I had my first convulsing gag while changing one a few days back. I thought I'd be brave enough to just breath normally as I was doing it. Bad decision.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Heathrow. The English version of Guantanamo Bay?
More of that later.
So we're back in Brisvegas, having had a lovely but short couple of weeks back home, bookended by the eventful travelling hardships. Home, where we managed to spend as much time as possible with our family during what is a particularly difficult time of year for all of us. Where Aibhe got to meet, bond and be spoilt completely by her Irish family and have her first roll. Where we saw the beautifully appropriate garden in Holy Family, River Valley built in memory of Marian. And where as always, leaving again is the hardest part. But now we've done it with a baby, so anything is possible.
We have some big thank you's. To Mum & Dad for having us and for the organisation of the GAA club afternoon. It was the only time we managed to see so many of our friends - albeit for a short time, but it was so important we were able to do it. To Ferg & Sinead for the time and attention and the obtaining of the car seat.... which leads to a big thanks to Deirdre and Liam. To Derek, Meabh, Cian and Ais and the lovely time in Ballymac. To Ken, Annemarie, Gav & Clare - for you know what - God knows what our luggage would have been like without you.
For all those who gave presents for Aibhe - so many that we had to send a separate box home which we're currently waiting for. Thanks sooooo much. She'll be dressed for the next year in Irish gear!
We arrived back on Thursday night - minus one bag - and I went to work the following day. Not sure if I added much to the Virgin Blue bottom line mind you.
For all those who may be interested, the following is a reasonably accurate account of the trips themselves, so if you are to do it yourselves with a young infant, know what to expect. Bear in mind the detailed planning that goes into all of this when it comes to having enough bottles for every take-off and landing, nappies & wipes, blankets for the bassinet, toys for entertaining and then the odd thing we need for ourselves.
Brisbane to Dublin
Departure from Brisbane. All good. Singapore Airlines ready and raring to go. Aibhe has the bottle practically finished by the time the plane takes off, but that all OK, we manage to keep her sucking a dummy for a while longer (see lingo dictionary below). I think the 7.5 hour flight to SIN was pretty OK. No movies watched.
Arrive SIN at what was I guess midnight by our body clocks at the time. Couldn't find our connecting flight to Manchester until I realised it was actually a flight to Zurich which then continued on to Manchester. Oh sweet lordy Jaysus. And Aibhe had already skulled one bottle more than planned. Having got over the shock of knowing we had an extra landing and take-off to deal with, we sourced some boiling water, heated up the next bottle and boarded the plane........ for bloody Zurich. In a nutshell, that one wasn't too bad, except of course for the constant interruptions due to turbulence when we had to take Aibhe out of the bassinet (thereby waking her AGAIN), strapping her on to one of us and trying to get her back to sleep. She still slept for 6 hours, but we began to dread every tiny little airplane shudder - in fairness Singapore Airlines are just a little anal about all that - completely unnecessary most of the time and we have since found out that if you have an infant it is recommended that you find an airline that doesn't require you to "baby Afa out, baby Afa out!!" every time they feel a little shiver at 10km high. Anyway, I think we managed 2 or 3 hours sleep and even squeezed in a movie.
Arrive ZUR, 12.5 hours later. Looked nice from the plane. Very Swiss. One hour wait and then off again to Manchester - 1.5 hours.
Arrive MAN where we had to transfer terminals and wait for the pretty incompetant transfer desk heads to give us our boarding passes. We had a 5 hour wait in this place and as we were without sterilised bottles for the next journey, it was all about organisation and boiling water and cleaning dummies and mixing formula and generally trying to stay awake while Aibhe got more and more pissed off with all this shite. We couldn't blame her. Of course she had her biggest screaming fit ever (I believe) when Alissa had gone off to get a few things, therefore leaving me to look like the helpless Dad with very unhapppy baby. Then had some smug dipshit chick come over and ask if I wanted her to take Aibhe and then tells me she was hungry (Aibhe that is). I know she's f&cking hungry ye spanner, I just don't know which container my wife has used for this particular feed and I can't get that wrong or God help me!! I had a guess anyway and had Aibhe back to normal within a few minutes having told smug dipshit chick that I can deal with it. 5 minutes later Alissa came back oblivious to all of this - perhaps the only tell tale sign was the stress twitch over my eye. FINALLY, we boarded the Aer Lingus flight home - having had an initial scare that the plane was going to be delayed by another hour.
Arrive DUB. 36 hours after leaving BNE. F&CKED.
Dublin to Brisbane
Now after that escapade above, one would hardly think that the trip back could live up to it? This was due to take 26 hours start to finish, so we reckoned it would be a piece of piss by comparison.
5am, Dublin Airport. Bedlam reigns supreme. We waited for 1 hour 15 minutes to get checked in. BMI had ONE (yes, ONE) counter checking people in, on the assumption that everyone had e-tickets so they could use the kiosks and do bag-drops. Of course, if on international connectors, thats not a runner - so you must wait in line. And BMI, being a star alliance partner had lots of people connecting to international flights. Anyway, as bad as all that was, we made it to the gate as they boarded for the 6.45 departure. All set to go. Phew. No big deal. Captain announces that due to problems with air traffic control in Heathrow, we'll be stuck here for an hour. Oh here we f&cking go. There goes take-off bottle and so we entertained Aibhe for the hour and then off we went. I reckon we circled for about 20 minutes before finally landing so getting the time right to feed the wee one was like a betting game.
Ahhhh. Arrival in Heathrow. I don't believe in hell in the afterlife, but I certainly believe in it down here. 3 letters. LHR. It's a prison. It's a building site. It's a 3rd world ramshakle mess of a WIP that needs to be razed to the ground and started again. It's the intestines of a dead rat. How do they get away with it? A sub-account of this leg.
I hereby vow to never again go through LHR. Ever, ever, ever. Even if I have a meeting in Heathrow airport sometime. I'll fly to Gatwick and go by bus.
Landed in KUL with 15 minutes to make our connection to BNE (as an aside - the flight to KUL was actually quite smooth - Aibhe slept at least 7 hours and I reckon I managed about 5 - not bad at all). So we pretty much legged it from one gate to the next, while trying to look around at what was a bloody fantastic airport, but the plane was actually being held for us......
Finally back to Brissie.... and the buggy doesn't come through - exactly what ye need at the end of the journey. Not to worry, am sure it'll turn up. No doubt its on some shuttle bus at LHR.
There endith the tales of the 2 long trips avec enfant. Fortunately for us we have a wonderful baby that doesn't appear to want to cry too much. Except in Manchester - but then again, I'd cry there too. And do something worse in LHR.
So we're back in Brisvegas, having had a lovely but short couple of weeks back home, bookended by the eventful travelling hardships. Home, where we managed to spend as much time as possible with our family during what is a particularly difficult time of year for all of us. Where Aibhe got to meet, bond and be spoilt completely by her Irish family and have her first roll. Where we saw the beautifully appropriate garden in Holy Family, River Valley built in memory of Marian. And where as always, leaving again is the hardest part. But now we've done it with a baby, so anything is possible.
We have some big thank you's. To Mum & Dad for having us and for the organisation of the GAA club afternoon. It was the only time we managed to see so many of our friends - albeit for a short time, but it was so important we were able to do it. To Ferg & Sinead for the time and attention and the obtaining of the car seat.... which leads to a big thanks to Deirdre and Liam. To Derek, Meabh, Cian and Ais and the lovely time in Ballymac. To Ken, Annemarie, Gav & Clare - for you know what - God knows what our luggage would have been like without you.
For all those who gave presents for Aibhe - so many that we had to send a separate box home which we're currently waiting for. Thanks sooooo much. She'll be dressed for the next year in Irish gear!
We arrived back on Thursday night - minus one bag - and I went to work the following day. Not sure if I added much to the Virgin Blue bottom line mind you.
For all those who may be interested, the following is a reasonably accurate account of the trips themselves, so if you are to do it yourselves with a young infant, know what to expect. Bear in mind the detailed planning that goes into all of this when it comes to having enough bottles for every take-off and landing, nappies & wipes, blankets for the bassinet, toys for entertaining and then the odd thing we need for ourselves.
Brisbane to Dublin
Departure from Brisbane. All good. Singapore Airlines ready and raring to go. Aibhe has the bottle practically finished by the time the plane takes off, but that all OK, we manage to keep her sucking a dummy for a while longer (see lingo dictionary below). I think the 7.5 hour flight to SIN was pretty OK. No movies watched.
Arrive SIN at what was I guess midnight by our body clocks at the time. Couldn't find our connecting flight to Manchester until I realised it was actually a flight to Zurich which then continued on to Manchester. Oh sweet lordy Jaysus. And Aibhe had already skulled one bottle more than planned. Having got over the shock of knowing we had an extra landing and take-off to deal with, we sourced some boiling water, heated up the next bottle and boarded the plane........ for bloody Zurich. In a nutshell, that one wasn't too bad, except of course for the constant interruptions due to turbulence when we had to take Aibhe out of the bassinet (thereby waking her AGAIN), strapping her on to one of us and trying to get her back to sleep. She still slept for 6 hours, but we began to dread every tiny little airplane shudder - in fairness Singapore Airlines are just a little anal about all that - completely unnecessary most of the time and we have since found out that if you have an infant it is recommended that you find an airline that doesn't require you to "baby Afa out, baby Afa out!!" every time they feel a little shiver at 10km high. Anyway, I think we managed 2 or 3 hours sleep and even squeezed in a movie.
Arrive ZUR, 12.5 hours later. Looked nice from the plane. Very Swiss. One hour wait and then off again to Manchester - 1.5 hours.
Arrive MAN where we had to transfer terminals and wait for the pretty incompetant transfer desk heads to give us our boarding passes. We had a 5 hour wait in this place and as we were without sterilised bottles for the next journey, it was all about organisation and boiling water and cleaning dummies and mixing formula and generally trying to stay awake while Aibhe got more and more pissed off with all this shite. We couldn't blame her. Of course she had her biggest screaming fit ever (I believe) when Alissa had gone off to get a few things, therefore leaving me to look like the helpless Dad with very unhapppy baby. Then had some smug dipshit chick come over and ask if I wanted her to take Aibhe and then tells me she was hungry (Aibhe that is). I know she's f&cking hungry ye spanner, I just don't know which container my wife has used for this particular feed and I can't get that wrong or God help me!! I had a guess anyway and had Aibhe back to normal within a few minutes having told smug dipshit chick that I can deal with it. 5 minutes later Alissa came back oblivious to all of this - perhaps the only tell tale sign was the stress twitch over my eye. FINALLY, we boarded the Aer Lingus flight home - having had an initial scare that the plane was going to be delayed by another hour.
Arrive DUB. 36 hours after leaving BNE. F&CKED.
Dublin to Brisbane
Now after that escapade above, one would hardly think that the trip back could live up to it? This was due to take 26 hours start to finish, so we reckoned it would be a piece of piss by comparison.
5am, Dublin Airport. Bedlam reigns supreme. We waited for 1 hour 15 minutes to get checked in. BMI had ONE (yes, ONE) counter checking people in, on the assumption that everyone had e-tickets so they could use the kiosks and do bag-drops. Of course, if on international connectors, thats not a runner - so you must wait in line. And BMI, being a star alliance partner had lots of people connecting to international flights. Anyway, as bad as all that was, we made it to the gate as they boarded for the 6.45 departure. All set to go. Phew. No big deal. Captain announces that due to problems with air traffic control in Heathrow, we'll be stuck here for an hour. Oh here we f&cking go. There goes take-off bottle and so we entertained Aibhe for the hour and then off we went. I reckon we circled for about 20 minutes before finally landing so getting the time right to feed the wee one was like a betting game.
Ahhhh. Arrival in Heathrow. I don't believe in hell in the afterlife, but I certainly believe in it down here. 3 letters. LHR. It's a prison. It's a building site. It's a 3rd world ramshakle mess of a WIP that needs to be razed to the ground and started again. It's the intestines of a dead rat. How do they get away with it? A sub-account of this leg.
- The usual arrival into the arse-end of Terminal 1 where they force all the Irish planes in case we're still carrying rotten potatoes to throw at Maggie Thatcher or Oliver Cromwell.
- 20 minutes walk to the bus to Terminal 3
- 10 minutes wait for bus to Terminal 3
- 10 minutes on bus to Terminal 3
- Straight to Flight Connections area where it takes 20 minutes to get our boarding passes as the guy behind the counter fails to tell me that its Aibhe's Aussie passport he needs and not her Irish one. Well excuse me - I was supposed to know this?
- 1.5 hours wait in Terminal 3 lounge, feed baby, feed ourselves, watch for Gate to be named.... gate named
- 15 minute walk to Gate where we got on...... a BUS of course (there was us expecting to go by plane to Kuala Lumpur)
- Seriously - 15 minutes on the bus where at one stage I thought we were being taken to Gatwick - but no, we were taken to the middle of nowhere where lo and behold, there was a Malaysian Airlines jumbo
- 2 announcements regarding issues with Cargo documentation later.... we're told we've lost our slot and will be taking-off 2 hours later than scheduled. F&CK!!! We only have 2 hours 15 to make our connection at KUL!!!
- Get us the hell out of this place.... PLEASE!!
I hereby vow to never again go through LHR. Ever, ever, ever. Even if I have a meeting in Heathrow airport sometime. I'll fly to Gatwick and go by bus.
Landed in KUL with 15 minutes to make our connection to BNE (as an aside - the flight to KUL was actually quite smooth - Aibhe slept at least 7 hours and I reckon I managed about 5 - not bad at all). So we pretty much legged it from one gate to the next, while trying to look around at what was a bloody fantastic airport, but the plane was actually being held for us......
Finally back to Brissie.... and the buggy doesn't come through - exactly what ye need at the end of the journey. Not to worry, am sure it'll turn up. No doubt its on some shuttle bus at LHR.
There endith the tales of the 2 long trips avec enfant. Fortunately for us we have a wonderful baby that doesn't appear to want to cry too much. Except in Manchester - but then again, I'd cry there too. And do something worse in LHR.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Congrats and welcome baby Abby (thats an anagram!!)
To Ken, Annemarie, Jake and Abby...... cannot believe you did it without the drugs!! Champion.
From daan unda
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Take me up to Montville, Montville, Montville.....
Lang-er-oo.
Well, we got away for a night to lovely Montville. About an hour and 15 mins from Brisvegas, up the coast and then inland up the hills. Very pretty, quiet and very chilled.
But full of these daft arts and crafts shops with some of the most seemingly tacky crap ye could possibly imagine - but people apparantly come from miles around to check it out. There was actually a shop called "Connemara" selling "Irish and Scottish clothing". Hmmmmm. Aibhe was left with Geoff & Barb who I think were more excited at the prospect of a full 24 hours on their own with her, than we were at the prospect of the short break. The ironic thing of course being, Alissa probably woke every 2-3 hours while we were away, and the following night at home slept for a solid 8 hours as her ladyship decided to sleep right through aswell. Typical.
So it's heatwave city back in Ireland. Yes, I get the RTE news on the web here and it just looks lovely. I do miss Ireland in the sunshine - walking through Grafton street at lunchtime as the whole country decides to strip down to bare bones and burn the crap out of themselves as soon as humanly possible. As for the west coast when the sun shines.......... have always said, if we just had the good weather for a bit more of the year, Ireland would be one of the best places in the world to live in. If global warming takes hold, we could be back sometime soon!! Though of course there is the traffic in Dublin to contend with. Currently takes me between 10 and 15 mins to drive to and from work every day - and we're about 5km away. Of course thats considered too long here so they're building more tunnels and bridges to ease the "congestion" in the city!!!
And then there's little tracksuit sporting scum bags around the Smithfield SPAR. Haven't quite found the equivalent here yet.
Brisbane is about to be declared and official drought zone. Water restrictions are about to go to Level 3 which means no using hoses anymore - though I had given up on that lark not so long ago - its pretty bloody boring standing there for a half an hour hosing the garden. Everything to be done by the bucket now (not just boring, but a bit tiring, so certainly not for me!). Its actually quite serious and they're now looking at ways of recycling all types of water waste - yes, even the worst kind - into drinking water. Yeuch. And its amazing how quickly the lush green grass turns to arid brown dust - though am told its equally amazing how quickly it will turn back again at the first sign of rain. So, everyone, please, pray for rain clouds.
Its the queen of England's birthday sometime around now so of course, the loyal Australian commonwealth subjects have a public holiday for her on Monday. I've asked if I could work and take a different day, but the office is closed. I'll work from home. Then again, with the World Cup being on, I may just watch some football. Speaking of which, the Aussies have well and truly jumped on the football bandwagon and have grabbed World Cup fever by the throat. Any excuse to drink some more. Though I think they may need some expectations reset as from what I can tell - reading between the lines - they really believe they can cause some major upsets. I alone am the voice of realism amidst the blind yellow and green optimism (naiivety?) thats gripping the place. Mind you, its mainly in Melbourne where soccer is ever considered to be used as a "football" term. Anyway, there will be plenty of coverage, only at rather inopportune hours. Some of the lads at work suggested that having a young baby I'd be up at those silly hours so I could watch most of the games. However, we have a very good baby who dearly likes her nightime sleep so I can gladly sacrifice that "opportunity". Hard disk DVD recorder comes into play nicely.
Anyway, I hope your bank holiday weekend was sunny and warm and laden with good Guinness and pint bottles of Bulmers with ice. Yum.
Well, we got away for a night to lovely Montville. About an hour and 15 mins from Brisvegas, up the coast and then inland up the hills. Very pretty, quiet and very chilled.
But full of these daft arts and crafts shops with some of the most seemingly tacky crap ye could possibly imagine - but people apparantly come from miles around to check it out. There was actually a shop called "Connemara" selling "Irish and Scottish clothing". Hmmmmm. Aibhe was left with Geoff & Barb who I think were more excited at the prospect of a full 24 hours on their own with her, than we were at the prospect of the short break. The ironic thing of course being, Alissa probably woke every 2-3 hours while we were away, and the following night at home slept for a solid 8 hours as her ladyship decided to sleep right through aswell. Typical.So it's heatwave city back in Ireland. Yes, I get the RTE news on the web here and it just looks lovely. I do miss Ireland in the sunshine - walking through Grafton street at lunchtime as the whole country decides to strip down to bare bones and burn the crap out of themselves as soon as humanly possible. As for the west coast when the sun shines.......... have always said, if we just had the good weather for a bit more of the year, Ireland would be one of the best places in the world to live in. If global warming takes hold, we could be back sometime soon!! Though of course there is the traffic in Dublin to contend with. Currently takes me between 10 and 15 mins to drive to and from work every day - and we're about 5km away. Of course thats considered too long here so they're building more tunnels and bridges to ease the "congestion" in the city!!!
And then there's little tracksuit sporting scum bags around the Smithfield SPAR. Haven't quite found the equivalent here yet.
Brisbane is about to be declared and official drought zone. Water restrictions are about to go to Level 3 which means no using hoses anymore - though I had given up on that lark not so long ago - its pretty bloody boring standing there for a half an hour hosing the garden. Everything to be done by the bucket now (not just boring, but a bit tiring, so certainly not for me!). Its actually quite serious and they're now looking at ways of recycling all types of water waste - yes, even the worst kind - into drinking water. Yeuch. And its amazing how quickly the lush green grass turns to arid brown dust - though am told its equally amazing how quickly it will turn back again at the first sign of rain. So, everyone, please, pray for rain clouds.
Its the queen of England's birthday sometime around now so of course, the loyal Australian commonwealth subjects have a public holiday for her on Monday. I've asked if I could work and take a different day, but the office is closed. I'll work from home. Then again, with the World Cup being on, I may just watch some football. Speaking of which, the Aussies have well and truly jumped on the football bandwagon and have grabbed World Cup fever by the throat. Any excuse to drink some more. Though I think they may need some expectations reset as from what I can tell - reading between the lines - they really believe they can cause some major upsets. I alone am the voice of realism amidst the blind yellow and green optimism (naiivety?) thats gripping the place. Mind you, its mainly in Melbourne where soccer is ever considered to be used as a "football" term. Anyway, there will be plenty of coverage, only at rather inopportune hours. Some of the lads at work suggested that having a young baby I'd be up at those silly hours so I could watch most of the games. However, we have a very good baby who dearly likes her nightime sleep so I can gladly sacrifice that "opportunity". Hard disk DVD recorder comes into play nicely.
Anyway, I hope your bank holiday weekend was sunny and warm and laden with good Guinness and pint bottles of Bulmers with ice. Yum.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
We've all renounced Satan. Again.
Just so Aibhe Catherine Marian Foley could join the forces of Catholicism. She'll be enrolled in the local Opus Dei foundation shortly, to further the voice of protest at The Da Vinci Code and its blasphemy. Her Mum & Dad are the founder members of the local branch of course. The self-flaggelation isn't really that bad.
Anyway. Our daughter (still weird saying/writing it) was Christened yesterday in Ashgrove - St Finbars Church. It's OK, nobody was struck down by lightning during the short half hour ceremony - though we had a first timer priest for the occasion. I just kept picturing Rowan Atkinson in Four Weddings as this chappie stumbled his way through the book in his hands.
I reckon the markers were in all the wrong places coz we had many many "reflective" pauses. He could have been reading from the Koran for all we knew - couldn't understand a word he was saying at times. Adam claimed he couldn't hear him but maybe he just wanted to avoid saying "I do" too often in case it might be catching. Sinead's stand-in Godmother role was played admirably by Bec. There was actually another Christening at the same time as ours - and to put it mildly we were like chalk and cheese on the altar. They were traditional with their net-curtain bedecked and hooded child, suits and specially engraved/prepared candle for the occasion. We had funky dressed baby, cocktail shirts and a swiftly pilfered cheapie candle. I could have been a pick-pocket in another existence. Some in the audience thought I was far too adept at appropriating it for me not to have had any practice. I am an accountant by trade after all.
A small affair it was, though back in the gaf it appeared like we had invited half a football stadium as kids appeared out of everywhere. If there was a gap to be found, the kids were in it and as bedlam reigned inside, the "adults" escaped outside to start into the limited but concentrated time there was for drinking. All in all, it was a lovely day - of course I missed my Irish side being there so much, but those that were there made a big effort. And a successful pre-Christening web cam hook-up with the family so the star of the show could display her wares helped ease that pain a little, though there is just a massive gap where her aunt Marian should be.
By the way, thanks to Shelley for especially making the trip from Melbourne and representing the Irish/Australian contingent.
As some have noted, we have "descended" into the Winter period. Temperatures have dipped as low as 4-6 degrees at night (which is actually BLOODY cold when the houses are set-up to allow the breeze to blow through). And daytime temperatures have dropped to a shivering average of about 24.
Lots of "footy" still on the TV, and having travelled to Melbourne and Sydney regularly recently, the following are further language tips when speaking of football;
- Queensland "football" = Rugby Union
- New South Wales (Sydney) "football" = Rugby League
- Victoria (Melbourne) "football" = Aussie Rules
- South Australia "football" = zzzzzzzzzzzzz, sorry what?
- Western Australia "football" = Doesn't matter - too far for any other Aussies to be bothered
- Northern Territories "football" = Are ye bloody mad? Too hot. And there could be snakes.
3 weeks tomorrow we'll be heading off to the old sod. I reckon the place must be due a heatwave at this stage so we'll just expect and dress accordingly. No room for woolly jumpers now that we're gonna have bags full of baby stuff. Ah yes, another new travel adventure.
Anyway. Our daughter (still weird saying/writing it) was Christened yesterday in Ashgrove - St Finbars Church. It's OK, nobody was struck down by lightning during the short half hour ceremony - though we had a first timer priest for the occasion. I just kept picturing Rowan Atkinson in Four Weddings as this chappie stumbled his way through the book in his hands.
I reckon the markers were in all the wrong places coz we had many many "reflective" pauses. He could have been reading from the Koran for all we knew - couldn't understand a word he was saying at times. Adam claimed he couldn't hear him but maybe he just wanted to avoid saying "I do" too often in case it might be catching. Sinead's stand-in Godmother role was played admirably by Bec. There was actually another Christening at the same time as ours - and to put it mildly we were like chalk and cheese on the altar. They were traditional with their net-curtain bedecked and hooded child, suits and specially engraved/prepared candle for the occasion. We had funky dressed baby, cocktail shirts and a swiftly pilfered cheapie candle. I could have been a pick-pocket in another existence. Some in the audience thought I was far too adept at appropriating it for me not to have had any practice. I am an accountant by trade after all.A small affair it was, though back in the gaf it appeared like we had invited half a football stadium as kids appeared out of everywhere. If there was a gap to be found, the kids were in it and as bedlam reigned inside, the "adults" escaped outside to start into the limited but concentrated time there was for drinking. All in all, it was a lovely day - of course I missed my Irish side being there so much, but those that were there made a big effort. And a successful pre-Christening web cam hook-up with the family so the star of the show could display her wares helped ease that pain a little, though there is just a massive gap where her aunt Marian should be.
By the way, thanks to Shelley for especially making the trip from Melbourne and representing the Irish/Australian contingent.
As some have noted, we have "descended" into the Winter period. Temperatures have dipped as low as 4-6 degrees at night (which is actually BLOODY cold when the houses are set-up to allow the breeze to blow through). And daytime temperatures have dropped to a shivering average of about 24.
Lots of "footy" still on the TV, and having travelled to Melbourne and Sydney regularly recently, the following are further language tips when speaking of football;
- Queensland "football" = Rugby Union
- New South Wales (Sydney) "football" = Rugby League
- Victoria (Melbourne) "football" = Aussie Rules
- South Australia "football" = zzzzzzzzzzzzz, sorry what?
- Western Australia "football" = Doesn't matter - too far for any other Aussies to be bothered
- Northern Territories "football" = Are ye bloody mad? Too hot. And there could be snakes.
3 weeks tomorrow we'll be heading off to the old sod. I reckon the place must be due a heatwave at this stage so we'll just expect and dress accordingly. No room for woolly jumpers now that we're gonna have bags full of baby stuff. Ah yes, another new travel adventure.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
It rained
First time in over 3 weeks. The garden is grateful. Though I'm told its heatwave city back on a cartain little island in the western most part of Europe. Make it last till we get home please.
And whatever ye say, a goal like that deserves to win any final. So, now, under Rafa we have....
- Champions League - tick (penalties after a 3-3 draw)
- F.A. Cup - tick (penalties after a 3-3 draw)
- Next up - The Premiership - and if it's on penalties after a 3-3 draw - so be it. Don't know how that could happen but......
Matt - can't help but say sorry to the Hammers - no consolation I realise. However, I'll say nothing about the relative quality of the goals (in writing that, I know I have).
"My" golf club's new bar (Ponciana bar) opened up on the weekend amidst great pomp,
ceremony and fanfare (trombone and all). Not sure about that name mind you - its a tree or bush or something over here, in Ireland if you had a bar of that name, you may get some of the George clientele dropping in to check out the quality of the strawberry daiquiris. Mr President was prouder than a freshly permed peacock strolling around the new bar verandah with his pudgy cheeked grand daughter taking in the grand sweeping vista's of the various greens and fairways within visible range. All the while she was happily crapping in her nappy we subsequently discovered - maybe she can be the first to have poo-ed on the terrace of the new bar!!. Bless her she's currently struggling to decide whether or not she wants to sleep through to 6am - God knows were willing her to, but something in that head of hers seems to want to wake-up at about 4.30am. So near yet so far. She'll be christened on May 28th - maybe that will settle her sleeping patterns back into line again.
The occasion was mother's day over here, so Alissa had her first one in that new territory. Still weird actually being married to a Mum, so am sure its even weirder (and wonderful-er!!) being one? I know Europe had Mum's day a while back, but as a bloke I have to adopt the dates driven by my hemisphere of residence for reminder purposes.
Was in Sydney yesterday (pissing rain) - where I managed to squeeze in a coffee with fellow Malahidian Murt. Melbourne tomorrow for 3 days/2 nights on training - yes, imagine, a company that wants to invest time & money in my career development. Just like the eircom spanners who were soooooo enthusiastic about my progression through the ranks. The same spanners are off making another fricken mint out of the sale of the company to the Aussies. So when you use your phone in future, you know whose economy you'll ultimately be contributing to?
Funny. Flew back yesterday with our Marketing Manager. He's scared sh&tless of flying (well, to be specific, take-off and landing) which is ever so slightly ironic in an airline. And does not make the best companion for a flight as he jittered and flicked his way through the Virgin Blue magazine several times. Did mean I was unable to recount the tale of the previous week where our senior legal counsel was on a flight from Canberra which had to abort just before take-off due to a flock of birds heading straight into the jet engines - buckling 3 of the blades. Twas all grand in the end - they got out of Canberra - believe me, the prospect of spending a night in the country's capital was more terrifying than the whole aborted take-off episode. The knock-on impact of these things across the airline network for the rest of the day still amazes me - in the past I was probably one of those people who may have said - "why isn't there a spare plane at every airport??". There's a very easy answer for that.
Ha. Get this. The forecast on www.weather.com.au actually uses the very official term "nippy" to describe temperatures of 15-16 degrees in Brisbane. There's even guys coming in at the moment with wooly jumpers and sports jackets!! Hilarious. I was swimming in an outdoor pool at lunchtime.
And whatever ye say, a goal like that deserves to win any final. So, now, under Rafa we have....
- Champions League - tick (penalties after a 3-3 draw)
- F.A. Cup - tick (penalties after a 3-3 draw)
- Next up - The Premiership - and if it's on penalties after a 3-3 draw - so be it. Don't know how that could happen but......
Matt - can't help but say sorry to the Hammers - no consolation I realise. However, I'll say nothing about the relative quality of the goals (in writing that, I know I have).
"My" golf club's new bar (Ponciana bar) opened up on the weekend amidst great pomp,
ceremony and fanfare (trombone and all). Not sure about that name mind you - its a tree or bush or something over here, in Ireland if you had a bar of that name, you may get some of the George clientele dropping in to check out the quality of the strawberry daiquiris. Mr President was prouder than a freshly permed peacock strolling around the new bar verandah with his pudgy cheeked grand daughter taking in the grand sweeping vista's of the various greens and fairways within visible range. All the while she was happily crapping in her nappy we subsequently discovered - maybe she can be the first to have poo-ed on the terrace of the new bar!!. Bless her she's currently struggling to decide whether or not she wants to sleep through to 6am - God knows were willing her to, but something in that head of hers seems to want to wake-up at about 4.30am. So near yet so far. She'll be christened on May 28th - maybe that will settle her sleeping patterns back into line again.The occasion was mother's day over here, so Alissa had her first one in that new territory. Still weird actually being married to a Mum, so am sure its even weirder (and wonderful-er!!) being one? I know Europe had Mum's day a while back, but as a bloke I have to adopt the dates driven by my hemisphere of residence for reminder purposes.
Was in Sydney yesterday (pissing rain) - where I managed to squeeze in a coffee with fellow Malahidian Murt. Melbourne tomorrow for 3 days/2 nights on training - yes, imagine, a company that wants to invest time & money in my career development. Just like the eircom spanners who were soooooo enthusiastic about my progression through the ranks. The same spanners are off making another fricken mint out of the sale of the company to the Aussies. So when you use your phone in future, you know whose economy you'll ultimately be contributing to?
Funny. Flew back yesterday with our Marketing Manager. He's scared sh&tless of flying (well, to be specific, take-off and landing) which is ever so slightly ironic in an airline. And does not make the best companion for a flight as he jittered and flicked his way through the Virgin Blue magazine several times. Did mean I was unable to recount the tale of the previous week where our senior legal counsel was on a flight from Canberra which had to abort just before take-off due to a flock of birds heading straight into the jet engines - buckling 3 of the blades. Twas all grand in the end - they got out of Canberra - believe me, the prospect of spending a night in the country's capital was more terrifying than the whole aborted take-off episode. The knock-on impact of these things across the airline network for the rest of the day still amazes me - in the past I was probably one of those people who may have said - "why isn't there a spare plane at every airport??". There's a very easy answer for that.
Ha. Get this. The forecast on www.weather.com.au actually uses the very official term "nippy" to describe temperatures of 15-16 degrees in Brisbane. There's even guys coming in at the moment with wooly jumpers and sports jackets!! Hilarious. I was swimming in an outdoor pool at lunchtime.
Monday, May 01, 2006
A new style of holiday
Not too bad for a first weekend away for a 9 week old kid. Getting to stay at the 5 star Coolum Hyatt resort on the Sunshine Coast (about an hour and a half north of here, just before Noosa) - in a "golf villa" overlooking the 18th tee. 
She'd better not get too used to that kind of holiday. Pretty amazing place it must be said and something I'm not very used to - the whole massive fully self-contained resort style affair. The highlight (for me - I doubt it would be Alissa's!!) is the golf course. A PGA track and simply breathtaking. And a bit tough. Just a shame I can't putt for shit anymore. This the view looking down the 9th. They even have "Tiger Tees" - about 40 yards further back than the regular "back" tees - am sure the man himself is so proud that many top golf courses around the world have had to spend millions extending because he hits the ball so flippin hard. Anyway, only 3 lost balls (another lingo update - "piss" = water of any kind on a golf course).
Though, it's not really like ye come back after the couple of nights away refreshed and rested. No need to elaborate on that one. The dangerous alcohol and young children cocktail strikes again.
Having just had 4 short weeks in a row, I'm thinking it's not gonna be easy doing a full 5 days at work. The timing of the holidays has been pretty perfect in so far as I've got to spend so much time with Alissa & Aibhe - witnessing regularly first hand the daily whinging hour between 5.30 and 6.30pm. Its like a battle against the clock to keep her quiet (but most importanly without letting her fall asleep!) for that hour. Alissa has her ways, I have mine - involves listening to Grada, Lunasa and Dervish tunes. Oh the tactics of it all.
With only 7 weeks to go to Ireland I shan't complain about a few 5 day weeks. Today being Labour day holiday in Queensland (not in the rest of the country though) we're sitting it out at home letting her ladyship get back to normal, which she appears to be doing by sleeping most of the day. Glory be. Our final Autumn month now, its 27 outside and I've just got out of the pool. Can't say I'm not making the most of it. The Aussies think I'm absolutely bonkers swimming in this "cold". I'm Irish and proud. Swam in a helluvalot colder and damn well enjoyed it I tell ya mayyte. I do remember one summer holiday in Sligo when it had p&ssed rain for the entire week - my poor parents, imagine ME bottled up for a week? A bit akin to a heavily shaken bottle of coke left standing. To allow the fizz to explode out, we were brought to the beach in the rain ("boiling" it was - maybe 20 C or so?) and we were "allowed" go in for a dip. The old "sure the rain won't matter when you're in will it?" line was spun. In I went. I think I also waded into the estuary in the middle of winter one year believing it would be a good idea to row a loose boat around the pontoon for a while. Might have been after Gibneys and Mr Moore can probably elaborate on that - I'll leave it there. But I cleaned my feet before going home.
And the Aussies wonder why I still swim here? Bring on your winter guys, gimme everything you've got - I'll still get into that bloody pool in July.
Now then. Another birthday wish for the littest niece - Happy 6th Birthday Aislinn. Thanks for allowing us watch you reading your book while on web-cam from the other side!!!
In case anyone is wondering. Aibhe is in the middle. Home woven Mickey and Minnie on either side. I think. Who's got the biggest cheeks?
Lingo update:
"Root" = Now, be very careful with this one and the Aussies. Do not go into the office and have a "quick root" for a file. Interpretation is quite different.
"Stroller" = Pram
"Dummy" = Soother
"Spat the dummy"/"Chucked the shits"/"Chucked a Tanny(tantrum)" = Flipped out big time
She'd better not get too used to that kind of holiday. Pretty amazing place it must be said and something I'm not very used to - the whole massive fully self-contained resort style affair. The highlight (for me - I doubt it would be Alissa's!!) is the golf course. A PGA track and simply breathtaking. And a bit tough. Just a shame I can't putt for shit anymore. This the view looking down the 9th. They even have "Tiger Tees" - about 40 yards further back than the regular "back" tees - am sure the man himself is so proud that many top golf courses around the world have had to spend millions extending because he hits the ball so flippin hard. Anyway, only 3 lost balls (another lingo update - "piss" = water of any kind on a golf course).Though, it's not really like ye come back after the couple of nights away refreshed and rested. No need to elaborate on that one. The dangerous alcohol and young children cocktail strikes again.
Having just had 4 short weeks in a row, I'm thinking it's not gonna be easy doing a full 5 days at work. The timing of the holidays has been pretty perfect in so far as I've got to spend so much time with Alissa & Aibhe - witnessing regularly first hand the daily whinging hour between 5.30 and 6.30pm. Its like a battle against the clock to keep her quiet (but most importanly without letting her fall asleep!) for that hour. Alissa has her ways, I have mine - involves listening to Grada, Lunasa and Dervish tunes. Oh the tactics of it all.
With only 7 weeks to go to Ireland I shan't complain about a few 5 day weeks. Today being Labour day holiday in Queensland (not in the rest of the country though) we're sitting it out at home letting her ladyship get back to normal, which she appears to be doing by sleeping most of the day. Glory be. Our final Autumn month now, its 27 outside and I've just got out of the pool. Can't say I'm not making the most of it. The Aussies think I'm absolutely bonkers swimming in this "cold". I'm Irish and proud. Swam in a helluvalot colder and damn well enjoyed it I tell ya mayyte. I do remember one summer holiday in Sligo when it had p&ssed rain for the entire week - my poor parents, imagine ME bottled up for a week? A bit akin to a heavily shaken bottle of coke left standing. To allow the fizz to explode out, we were brought to the beach in the rain ("boiling" it was - maybe 20 C or so?) and we were "allowed" go in for a dip. The old "sure the rain won't matter when you're in will it?" line was spun. In I went. I think I also waded into the estuary in the middle of winter one year believing it would be a good idea to row a loose boat around the pontoon for a while. Might have been after Gibneys and Mr Moore can probably elaborate on that - I'll leave it there. But I cleaned my feet before going home.
And the Aussies wonder why I still swim here? Bring on your winter guys, gimme everything you've got - I'll still get into that bloody pool in July.
Now then. Another birthday wish for the littest niece - Happy 6th Birthday Aislinn. Thanks for allowing us watch you reading your book while on web-cam from the other side!!!
In case anyone is wondering. Aibhe is in the middle. Home woven Mickey and Minnie on either side. I think. Who's got the biggest cheeks?
Lingo update:
"Root" = Now, be very careful with this one and the Aussies. Do not go into the office and have a "quick root" for a file. Interpretation is quite different.
"Stroller" = Pram
"Dummy" = Soother
"Spat the dummy"/"Chucked the shits"/"Chucked a Tanny(tantrum)" = Flipped out big time
Thursday, April 20, 2006
I have to say it
Irish American commentators on ESPN are the WORST I have ever heard (there are 2 of them). I am fortunate enough to get live Champions League football (albeit at stupid hours ......... beggars, choosers and all that) but the severe drawback to this blessing is putting up with Tommy fricken Smith from upstate Monaghan. His favourite and frequently used expression (which I believe he thinks is his own) is "stuck it in the back of the onion bag" which manages to make my blood curl every time I hear it - especially in that awful Paddy-Yank accent. First of all Tommy, "onion SACK" is the phrase we MAY tend to use if and when we use it - which is VERY sparingly, like on the occasion when ye DO see a ball rippling through the back of the goal. For instance, Robbie Keane's equaliser in injury time against Germany in the last World Cup had that effect - as you can see the ball make its way from the right side of the goal, along the net, towards the middle. And our pints went to the front. Secondly Tommy, shut up shut up shut up!!! Put it this way, Robbie Slater's Australian commentary is positive genius by comparison.
Also some lingo tips for yis all.
Ambo = Ambulance driver
Posty = Postman
Bottlo = Off licence
Exy = Expensive (this may be a Bec'ism - she has a few mind you)
Nuggets = Golf balls
Oppies = Options (which in game of golf you are meant to "take" if you are losing on the last hole. Involes money of course)
I shall update this one periodically when I come across some more fascinating local lingo.
Oh. I forgot to add, to those who were in Iceland on that famous Good Friday, CHEERS and happy anniversary!! Not sure if we had pizza last week on the day, but there were certainly a couple of G&T's. Expertly poured using the expertise once demonstrated by a certain.... Shelley. And Stef, am still trying to see if speakers work better when placed in a bin.
Also some lingo tips for yis all.
Ambo = Ambulance driver
Posty = Postman
Bottlo = Off licence
Exy = Expensive (this may be a Bec'ism - she has a few mind you)
Nuggets = Golf balls
Oppies = Options (which in game of golf you are meant to "take" if you are losing on the last hole. Involes money of course)
I shall update this one periodically when I come across some more fascinating local lingo.
Oh. I forgot to add, to those who were in Iceland on that famous Good Friday, CHEERS and happy anniversary!! Not sure if we had pizza last week on the day, but there were certainly a couple of G&T's. Expertly poured using the expertise once demonstrated by a certain.... Shelley. And Stef, am still trying to see if speakers work better when placed in a bin.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Peter, I can see your house from here.......
Ahh that old chestnut came back yesterday - Easter Saturday. A joke told in a far different fashion to when I heard it being told in Ireland. A one liner and right to the point here, where at home it would take at least good 10 minutes to build up to the delivery of the punchline. Blasphemous of course, but I mean, he was coming back to life on Sunday??Stef, we have come a long long way in the world of medicine from when you had to "swallow a plastic bag" to have a gastroscopy. My way sounds so much better. And means I couldn't go to work either.
We'll get the Aibhe update in early. She's great. Fantastic. Sleeping like a champ. Eating (drinking?) like a bigger champ.
She even had her first trip to the coast yesterday and, apart from a 1 hour tantrum in the Sheraton while the girls had lunch (I wasn't there but I certainly believe it), she appeared to enjoy her day. Meanwhile, Alex and I and a couple of other lads played the Hyatt Palm Springs course. Only 29 degrees yesterday, so didn't get too burned. The swim in the pool afterwards cooled us down a bit. So how's Spring?All in all, things going along over here. Have been to Sydney and Melbourne with work on day trips which sounds all very cool but is actually pretty knackering. That said, for a low cost airline, Virgin Blue are soooooooooooooooo different to Ryanair. They're young, polite and friendly. And ALWAYS on time. And they still have the window shutter thingy's on the plane. Even met little Ms Molly Mitchell in Sydney (and her parents of course, she wasn't out on her own yet, they said they'd wait till she was at least 8 weeks before she could do that). Saw the new Spencer St station in Melbourne - very funky.
As most of you probably now know, we shall be home in June and of course Alissa has EVERYTHING pretty much under control from an organisation perspective. Here's hoping Aibhe will enjoy her first trip to Dad's hometown. Am sure we'll see most of yis all then - hopefully K & A will have had Jake's brother/sister so we can all share a pint of Guinness/Bulmers. Am also sure I'll drop another note and picture or two (in moderation!!) in here before then.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Of gastroscopies and the like....
An endoscopy would have been more apt a procedure for me really, and the difference is not all that obvious, but there ye go, a gastroscopy it was. For the 2nd time in 6 months I was knocked out in an operating theatre. This time however, rather than cutting me open, moving my throat to the side, taking out a bad disc in the neck and sticking a good one back in, it was simply a camera down the gob and into the stomach. After which I was not allowed to drive heavy machinery or sign important documents for 24 hours. Anwyay, I have a video of it all - when I'll get to watch it is another thing as it's all DVD these days - can't imagine too many people get to watch a video of their own stomachs? Wonder was there any valuable coins in there, or buttons from a remote control? So I have some unusual condition which is written on the report but is impossible to remember (lets just say oesephegitis is in there somewhere) and hopefully the horse tablets I have to take for it will do the trick. Maybe after all that, drinking a nice cool glass of pinot gris won't feel like I'm trying to swallow blunt & rusty staples anymore. Thats me thoroughly checked out over the past year between the MRI & X-rays for the neck & back and now an intrusive camera all the way into the belly. Nice to know all those years of Guinness consumption haven't done too much damage to the tummy - the liver however.......
Aibhe seems to have decided that she will be a big baby by skulling every ounce of formula that goes near her. From below average, to above average in a matter of weeks. It seems to be going to her cheeks. I'm a poet. In all honesty, we still can't complain too much, she USUALLY sleeps through the night with just one wake-up to feed - which, if it continues, is all we can hope for. May I add, that hangovers with small babies are hard. Self inflicted I absolutely accept, but bloody, bloody hard. Especially with 3 hours sleep and a game of golf to play (yes, my first outing in 6 weeks was laden with a hangoer and it showed). Must have been the excitement of our being out for the first time since she was born but we did it and without too much guilt.....
The commonwealth (small "c") games are over (or "School Sports day where EVERYONE gets a medal" as I liked to call it). Granted, Melbourne put on quite a spectacle, but seriously, who was watching? The UK, Australia (obviously, as they took all the medals), New Zealand, Canada a few African countries and lots of little places I didn't realise the British had bothered conquering and leaving. The swimming was good mind you - watch out for Liesel Jones in the next Olympics. Actually, just look out for the entire womens swimming team. You saw it here first.
So then, we will be returning to the ole sod in June. I think we head off on the 21st and return on the 5th July. Short, but that's just the way these trips will have to be from now on. But sure everyone else can come over here - Aibhe would love to be babysat by a few Irish mates!!! And hey, she CAN open her eyes!
(by the way , Alissa pointed out my nose looks rather large in the picture below - guess I should take it down, but then, we all know that about me so why bother????)
Aibhe seems to have decided that she will be a big baby by skulling every ounce of formula that goes near her. From below average, to above average in a matter of weeks. It seems to be going to her cheeks. I'm a poet. In all honesty, we still can't complain too much, she USUALLY sleeps through the night with just one wake-up to feed - which, if it continues, is all we can hope for. May I add, that hangovers with small babies are hard. Self inflicted I absolutely accept, but bloody, bloody hard. Especially with 3 hours sleep and a game of golf to play (yes, my first outing in 6 weeks was laden with a hangoer and it showed). Must have been the excitement of our being out for the first time since she was born but we did it and without too much guilt.....The commonwealth (small "c") games are over (or "School Sports day where EVERYONE gets a medal" as I liked to call it). Granted, Melbourne put on quite a spectacle, but seriously, who was watching? The UK, Australia (obviously, as they took all the medals), New Zealand, Canada a few African countries and lots of little places I didn't realise the British had bothered conquering and leaving. The swimming was good mind you - watch out for Liesel Jones in the next Olympics. Actually, just look out for the entire womens swimming team. You saw it here first.
So then, we will be returning to the ole sod in June. I think we head off on the 21st and return on the 5th July. Short, but that's just the way these trips will have to be from now on. But sure everyone else can come over here - Aibhe would love to be babysat by a few Irish mates!!! And hey, she CAN open her eyes!(by the way , Alissa pointed out my nose looks rather large in the picture below - guess I should take it down, but then, we all know that about me so why bother????)
Friday, March 24, 2006
and so it is.... 10 years on
just a big message to my favourite Godchild!
MEABH REID - HAPPY 10th BIRTHDAY !!!!
HAVE A GREAT PARTY.....
uncle enda, auntie alissa & cousin aibhe
Monday, March 13, 2006
And the rain came down.......
"...like an angel come down from above......" (Steve Earl - Exit O). But here, the rain did fall, VERY heavily for a week, and then, Aibhe came along.Of course, it is a life changing experience and all that they say it is. Now that she dictates when we eat and sleep, till we eventually manage to get her into the Foley/Parker regime. Or should I say Parker/Foley regime - lets face it, I pale in organisational skill comparison to my good lady wife. But soon. Soon she will sleep through the night, though that said, so far the sleep deprivation hasn't been quite up to the doomsday scenarios painted by those that have gone before. I may speak too soon of course so let me not say another word about that. Lots of firsts had by us these past few weeks it has to be said and Alissa hasn't even gagged (too much!!) at the nappy changing. However they are getting more and more intense as the days go by. Whoever said "When its your own, ye won't even notice it" - they were talking shite - literally.
So there she is in one of her more peaceful moments. All I will say is that she is being just fantastic so far. And bloody cute. And there's proud and happy Mum.
We did promise from the start that there would be no excessive PILING on of the photos - as having experienced it all from the outside, I do still realise that taking every single possible angle (sorry, I mean sending pictures of every single possible angle) at this early age is a little OTT. However, there have been specific requests for just a few more snaps, so here ye go. Maybe next time we'll have one of the 3 of us!
Other than that, life's been mad. Ahhh just plain mad. All the gigs, the all night drinking, the poker nights with the boys, the football matches, the games of golf....... and general craziness of life as a parent - just mental. Very tiring though.
I could document the account of the labour and the non-functioning epidural, but we shall save all that for a few pints of Guinness in June/July in Dublin. There were a few here who were quick to point out that Aibhe was 1 hour and 31 mins late and that she could never be our daughter if she were to keep that up. I had to point out that she was conceived in Ireland, and was therefore still functioning on Irish time and could therefore not be considered late in any way. She was bang on time. A Foley/Parker she is.
Well, her name will be an interesting one for the Aussies to interpret. We've had plenty of occasion to repeat the spelling several times already, but we will persist and someday.... someday, she'll appreciate the names we gave her. Of course we'll have to fill her in all about her wonderful aunt Marian who's name she has taken on, and who we know would have been so incredibly excited at her arrival.
So a big thank you to all for the cards, clothes, presents, calls, wishes and general interest in our new addition. All the contact is greatly appreciated and just makes it a little easier for me to be over here going through this amazing time. And its not just me, Alissa misses so much of what we all had in Ireland, but Aibhe's going to grow up here in Brisbane, and man, is she a lucky kid!!!!
Friday, February 24, 2006
Aibhe Catherine Marian Foley
Welcome............................!!! (3 hours old)
Eveyone fit and healthy, Mum played an absolute blinder....
Eveyone fit and healthy, Mum played an absolute blinder....
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Lemon & lime & bitters, pool maintenance and early labour
Let me just say this. Probably the most thirst quenching, tasty and plain damn beautiful drink I've ever had (aside from a good afternoon pint of Guinness in a small country bar out west of Clare somewhere) and its made up of lemonade, lime and a few squirts of this Angostura bitters stuff. The last ingredient has some decent alcoholic content, perhaps the reason I like it so much, but I'm afraid I am addicted.
Another thing ye wouldn't come across in every day life back home. Hydrochloric acid. Yet I have a 5 litre container of it under the gaf now. Yes indeed, I thought pool maintenance was all about the net on the end of the long pole that the pool cleaner boy would use as you'd see him being seduced in those entertaining "movies" of yester year. But no no no. We fill up a little container of water and off we go to the pool shop - where the attendant duly takes it from us (as if a doctor taking a urine sample) and over he goes to his titrations kit. As we watch the colours go blue & pink and red (bringing back stinging memories of the chemistry lab in O'Connells where there was no way in the world anyone would have been trusted with anything other than a pipette and water) he calls out some stats to another bloke who puts the details into the computer. Whack the Enter button, then Bob's your uncle. Printout telling us we need 899 mls of Hydrochloric acid and 2 kgs of some sodium based balancing salt. Thanks mister, here's your 27 bucks and off we go.
Tell ye what though, it really is Hydrochloric acid. Spilt a drop on my foot and holy mother of Mary did it sting like bejaysus. And another piece of good advice, make sure ye cover the skimmer box when walking around the pool cleaning it with the vacuum underwater yolk. Bruising of the ankle, arm and arse less likely if ye don't go on your ear.
Onto labour. Funny, the movies would lead ye to believe that its a wham bam - there's the water breaking (nobody ever mentions the mucous plug eh??), ouch there's the contractions - off to hospital, an hour or two of agony for the poor mother to be and out she comes. Not so. Well, the early part anyway. So much so that ye can walk around a garden centre and enjoy the reaction of the staff when you respond to their question "How much longer do you have left?" with "Actually, I'm in labour at the moment".
Another thing ye wouldn't come across in every day life back home. Hydrochloric acid. Yet I have a 5 litre container of it under the gaf now. Yes indeed, I thought pool maintenance was all about the net on the end of the long pole that the pool cleaner boy would use as you'd see him being seduced in those entertaining "movies" of yester year. But no no no. We fill up a little container of water and off we go to the pool shop - where the attendant duly takes it from us (as if a doctor taking a urine sample) and over he goes to his titrations kit. As we watch the colours go blue & pink and red (bringing back stinging memories of the chemistry lab in O'Connells where there was no way in the world anyone would have been trusted with anything other than a pipette and water) he calls out some stats to another bloke who puts the details into the computer. Whack the Enter button, then Bob's your uncle. Printout telling us we need 899 mls of Hydrochloric acid and 2 kgs of some sodium based balancing salt. Thanks mister, here's your 27 bucks and off we go.
Tell ye what though, it really is Hydrochloric acid. Spilt a drop on my foot and holy mother of Mary did it sting like bejaysus. And another piece of good advice, make sure ye cover the skimmer box when walking around the pool cleaning it with the vacuum underwater yolk. Bruising of the ankle, arm and arse less likely if ye don't go on your ear.
Onto labour. Funny, the movies would lead ye to believe that its a wham bam - there's the water breaking (nobody ever mentions the mucous plug eh??), ouch there's the contractions - off to hospital, an hour or two of agony for the poor mother to be and out she comes. Not so. Well, the early part anyway. So much so that ye can walk around a garden centre and enjoy the reaction of the staff when you respond to their question "How much longer do you have left?" with "Actually, I'm in labour at the moment".
Friday, February 17, 2006
Here we go, here we go, here we go.....
After a reasonably non-eventful week - aside from Liverpool's battling 1-0 victory over the lacklustre Arsenal at Anfield - the time it seems hath cometh. Probably. Somebody called Brackston-Hicks called yesterday and caused some distress. He's a bit of a faker though. Then the doc today told Alissa things are stirring, Berry is getting a bit restless and appears to want out soon. Bets were being taken in my office as to whether I would be "pappa Enda" by Monday morning. Although this would still be ahead of the due date, as I said before, we still kindov expected something sooner........ but all in the kids good time of course. Let this be an indicator of his/her future relaxed but punctual attitude to things. Takes after his Dad.
So then. This is it. This is what its all about. El momento of truth. Weird sensation really. While I accept that we are certainly a pair of very organised people, something tells me nothing can prepare us for whats about to hit us. But as they say here, its all good. Scary. But good.
So then. This is it. This is what its all about. El momento of truth. Weird sensation really. While I accept that we are certainly a pair of very organised people, something tells me nothing can prepare us for whats about to hit us. But as they say here, its all good. Scary. But good.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Another week closer....
This weeks photo. At dinner, Alissa's birthday with our most recent guest all the way from.... Melbourne!As the heavens open outside and we get a welcome dump of the wet stuff, another week rolls by. When it rains here, ye know all about it. So far, I've had the crows (and other miscellaneous noisy birds), the next door neighbours dog and of course some ridiculously torrential rain, all taking turns at who can wake me up. Next up, junior.
No major updates to report aside from Alissa's enlargement and the doctor telling her (us) to be on standby. So we wait.
The non-cricketing sporting season has well and truly kicked off this weekend, with the start of the rugby (union) Super 14's. Thats the best of the southern hemisphere teams pummelling the living sh&t out of each other for the next 6 months or something. I think the Rugby League season starts shortly (very very big here in Brisbane) and the the Aussie rules gets going. Blanket wall to wall, am to pm football of some sorts on the TV. All that and the coverage from the Premiership and Champs league is ongoing. Absolutley and utterly sports bonkers this nation. If I don't know whats gone on in a variety of sports at the weekend, I am completely out of the conversation at coffee on a Monday morning. So for me, its kind of studying for work.
This will be short and sweet, maybe there will be a little more to report next time, so for now....
HAPPY 8th BIRTHDAY CIAN!!!
(on the day your beloved Chelsea got hammered 3-0 - how inconsiderate of them)
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Still nothing stirring........
So after almost 38 weeks "in there", the kid appears to be pretty comfortable and has no intention of moving very soon. There goes the whole "she'll go early coz nearly everyone else in her family did" theory. I believe Alissa was more into the idea of going early coz it would mean a smaller bowling ball to squeeze out. So we wait. And no matter how many times Alissa looks down and pleads "GET OUT", the kids just not listening.And Robbie's comeback wasn't quite the fairytale, but it still feels DAMN good. God..
Earlier today, the Indooroopilly golf club president's son (that would be Adam) and son-in-law (that would be ME) won the opening day of the season competition - THRASHING the rest of the field by a massive 5 points. Given this required me to be AT the golf club and standing on the correct tee box at 7am this morning, this was quite a result. And don't worry everyone, I'll get a copy of the local paper and scan the results section in and load it up. A score of 50 points in a stableford best ball comp did the trick. My handicap of 19 will be carved shortly I believe, though in fairness, I did have a 31 over last weekend so they can't complain too much. Just one of those days. The only drawback was that we had to go up and collect our prize in front of about 300 people and I was handed the microphone to speak - Adam pretty much ran away from it as soon as he was handed the prize (brand new Odyssey putters). Not sure if many people understood me, apparantly we Irish talk pretty fast and I have been told in the past that I am inclined to mumble, but there was definitely a laugh at one stage. Afterwards I discovered there were a few Irish in the gathering who appeared quite proud that one of their own was up there communicating with them only - and they refused to act as translators at their tables. Turns out the mother of one of the guys lives in Malahide. Mad.
Thats me with Alex a couple of weeks ago down the Gold Coast......
So Kieran has decided to stay in sunny Ireland (which I am told it has been for the month of January - although Ferg, your weather reports differ a bit from the glowing ones I receive from others - do you not like the Winter?) . K - am sure 'twas a tough decision, and 'tis a shame you won't be here........... but its understandable and there's always webcams. No point in talking about the weather here. One word. Hot.
Down in Sydney, Murt and Shelly have their hands over the holsters at this stage too, wonder who will get to draw first - probably won't be that much in it given Shelly is due..... next week I believe.
And Mr Murphy, thanks for the texts. We miss you too - though I think its just the drink texting when we hear from ye given the ridiculous hours they arrive in at. Unless of course you schedule them....... that would be very cunning. Right, so, now. Time for a celebratory beer and a bit of a swim by the pool. Funnily enough, we don't have much on the next couple of weekends, except possibly having a baby.
(PS update on the crows saga - despite destroying his nest, we were woken the next day by the f&cker at it again.... so there is now paper over the window to stop the dozy twat seeing his own reflection and trying to get at it. Not pretty, but who cares - it works. Of course, now we have the neighbours dipsh&t dog deciding its going to bark its way through our precious Friday night's sleep.... stay tuned......... maybe I'll blow up the kennel???)
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Welcome back Robbie, DG's 36 and crows nests
3am and the mobile lights up the room and disturbs the slumber. Must either be someone from Ireland that's completely oblivious to time zones and wants to say hello, or........... its Iain from Prague letting me know that Robbie Fowler is back with Liverpool, leaving his (Iain's) beloved Manchester City. Only 12 hours earlier I had an e-mail "conversation" with one of our clients in Melbourne who also happens to be a Liverpool supporter, the general theme of which was how good it would be if God came back to us. Just for the sheer emotionality of it all. And of course the prospect of having one of the all time best finishers in football back where he belongs. We had concluded it would not happen. Bless Rafa. He's a good man. I returned to sleep a contented man. Alissa didn't think it was that important, however, as Ken rightly pointed out, entering my 35th year with Liverpool as European champions only lends an odd familiarity to an otherwise foreign situation.
DG, Happy Birthday boss. A Saturday and all? I hope tis a good one for you. 36? Jayyyyyyysus.
Every picture tells a story they say. Have I mentioned the crows before? Ah yes. Not satisfied with their painful cawking in the early hours of the morning, one bastard has decided to try hammering his
way through our back door - resulting in a fair bit of irreparable wood damage. We are informed that it is mating season and it's his reflection in the window he's trying to get after. Gobshite. I thought crows were meant to be clever? Anyway, I took matters into my own hands and did my utmost to destroy the crows abode in our tree - with the assistance of the pool cleaner pole, a couple of golf clubs and a broom..... See first line of paragraph......
Am going to try do these updates once a week or thereabouts. Alissa's quite happy with the posting of the pictures aspect but am sure will add her tuppence worth in words every so often. For those that have been here, the pictures of the gaf as it is now, might (or might not) be of interest. We have Shelley here at the moment - up from Melbourne for the weekend - she likes the Vegas so hopefully we'll be seeing plenty of her in the future, as well as Rach of course when she finally comes home (welcome back from Kazakstan!!)
Alissa has well less than 4 weeks to go - still going very well, and no signs of early movement as of yet. But. Who knows what the next update might include. I'm reliably informed that we are next.
No wasting time about the weather, though it has cooled to a quite tolerable 28/29 recently. January nearly over eh? Its all downhill into Winter for us now!!!!
DG, Happy Birthday boss. A Saturday and all? I hope tis a good one for you. 36? Jayyyyyyysus.
Every picture tells a story they say. Have I mentioned the crows before? Ah yes. Not satisfied with their painful cawking in the early hours of the morning, one bastard has decided to try hammering his
way through our back door - resulting in a fair bit of irreparable wood damage. We are informed that it is mating season and it's his reflection in the window he's trying to get after. Gobshite. I thought crows were meant to be clever? Anyway, I took matters into my own hands and did my utmost to destroy the crows abode in our tree - with the assistance of the pool cleaner pole, a couple of golf clubs and a broom..... See first line of paragraph......
Am going to try do these updates once a week or thereabouts. Alissa's quite happy with the posting of the pictures aspect but am sure will add her tuppence worth in words every so often. For those that have been here, the pictures of the gaf as it is now, might (or might not) be of interest. We have Shelley here at the moment - up from Melbourne for the weekend - she likes the Vegas so hopefully we'll be seeing plenty of her in the future, as well as Rach of course when she finally comes home (welcome back from Kazakstan!!)
Alissa has well less than 4 weeks to go - still going very well, and no signs of early movement as of yet. But. Who knows what the next update might include. I'm reliably informed that we are next.No wasting time about the weather, though it has cooled to a quite tolerable 28/29 recently. January nearly over eh? Its all downhill into Winter for us now!!!!
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Of course Alissa reckons this is a little nerdy....
...... but now that I have discovered it, am going to bloody use it!! And some have responded already so this may just work. And she'll come round I know it.
So Happy Australia day everyone. When you're all lounging in your beds on Paddy's day, I'll be suffering at work, like you all will be today. So yis will have your revenge. For me, a day off now means doing the garden and cleaning the pool in advance of guests coming over. The garden, there's a thing. 10 years of living in an apartment and I could barely keep a plant alive. Now I have all these trees and plants that I can't spell and would look at home in the Day of the Triffids to maintain . Or let the sub-tropical weather look after of course. Round here, people really welcome "a bit of rain" - though they would prefer a week solid. Not happening though and the dam levels keep falling....... maybe thats a business opportunity? If Ireland could find a way of selling its rain to Australia, we'd all be laughing and I'd be rich, RICH I tells ya!!
So then, tis time for the whipper snipper........ as Triple J radio play the top 100 of all time. Honestly, do Placebo deserve to be in that FFS?
We'll talk.
And that was Christmas day down under... a good day, but so missing Marian.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
and its Australia day (almost)
Sharing my birthday with Australia..... some might say this was meant to be. Me however thinks it unfair. Everyone thinks its their birthday when its a bank holiday.
More importantly, Alissa is now 30. And very very pregnant. But playing a blinder. Unlike Pam of course who's now non-pregnant and the proud mother of 2 future Aston Village players.
More importantly, Alissa is now 30. And very very pregnant. But playing a blinder. Unlike Pam of course who's now non-pregnant and the proud mother of 2 future Aston Village players.
First entry
Welcome. First test of this blog larkology. Never thought I'd bother with these but given how attentive we all were to Stef's when he was travelling the eastern parts, and all the jocular jibes we got out of it, I figured, WTF, lets see if anyone ever bothers their arse to read this. Now granted, this won't be exciting as Stef's far East travels, I mean, after another few weeks all we will ever be speaking about ever again will be our baby. Our child. Our vonderkind. Our leanbh. And the fucking possums and crows that wake him/her up every day. Thats it, end of story. Enda story.
By the way, thats us in Amsterdam last year. Brisbane's architecture hasn't changed that much and there's no way I'd wear a jacket in this heat.
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