Having written about my father before and decided it was great material, I went to dinner at his place on Saturday anticpating further excellent blog fodder. And I wasn't disappointed.
Dad: This oven. These potatoes are taking forever! And last nights meatballs were the same! GRRR! BLOODY OVEN!!!
Me: You've got it turned to Grill, you big twat.
Dad: The English Patient. What was it about again?
Me (slightly in my cups) : *talks for 10 minutes about the English Patient ending with* and then all this shit went down.
Dad: And then all this shit went down. I'm sure Anthony Minghella would love to hear it described thus?
Me: Can we listen to your mixed tapes that accompanied all our car trips when we were kids?
Dad: *happily trundles off and puts one on*
Me: I can't believe we had to listen to Leonard Cohen. Most families have to endure the Wiggles.
Dad: But now you've got great taste in music!
Me: Touche.
Dad: Let's put on Godley and Creme - Cry.
Me: I love that song!
Dad's girlfriend: Can we listen to the Rose?
Us: *ignore*
Me: I'm going to do our family tree. Who were Grandpa's parents?
Dad: ....
Me: okay....how did Grandpa spell his name? Alasta-i-r? or Alist-e-r?
Dad: .....
Me: Should I be asking Grandma? (who is 92 and sometimes thinks I'm her daughter)
Dad: Yes.
Me: Did you know that you have sunscreen in your bathroom cupboard that expired in 1997?
Dad: I don’t use sunscreen. I have natural oils that protect me (Dad comes from Scottish heritage).
Me: No wonder I’m addicted to tanning. It’s your fault if I get a melanoma.
Dad: *shrug*
Me: Did you get the Sunday paper?
Dad: No. I already know most of what’s in there, and everything else isn’t worth knowing.
Vintage Dad. It was fun.
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Friday, 9 May 2008
Things I thought about on my sunbed today
1:00pm. God this is nice. So rainy and yuk outside.
1:01pm. Survivor Micronesia: who's going to take it out? I'm betting on Parvati. I think the final two will be her and Eric, and Eric has crossed too many people to win. James...he was one built speciman. I felt really bad when they voted that he was most unlikely to be invited to a family dinner. I'd invite him....and get him to do some much needed heavy lifting around the house.
1:10pm. Have I really just been thinking about Survivor for 10 minutes? I am sad.
1:11pm. How could Jen make her kids tidy their rooms? What did Mum make me do? I think she just said if you don't, you can't go play at Natalie's house today. But funnily enough, I can't recall ever tidying, and I can recall playing at Natalie's lots. I have a feeling she bit the bullet and did it herself. Sorry Jen.
1:15pm. I feel bad that Antonia is trying to make friends in her baby group when if all the people there just knew how hilarious and awesome she was they would all be falling over themselves to hang out with her and drink tea. Must suggest to her to hand out a card with her website on it. Guaranteed buddies.
1:20pm. Realise I am a true child of pop culture, using my relaxation time to think about blogs and reality TV.
1:22pm. Dreading going back to the office and having to listen to my co-worker discuss the weather for 10 minutes, and how cold it may or may not be, and ask everyone in the room if it's cold, before venturing outside for lunch. We have floor to ceiling windows which funnily enough, I use to judge the weather from WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE and what pedestrians wandering past are wearing. Try it. And shut up.
1:25pm. Oof. It's getting rather warm in here and my back is all squidgy. I'm kinda wishing the beeps would happen....
1:26pm. Damn beeps.
1:01pm. Survivor Micronesia: who's going to take it out? I'm betting on Parvati. I think the final two will be her and Eric, and Eric has crossed too many people to win. James...he was one built speciman. I felt really bad when they voted that he was most unlikely to be invited to a family dinner. I'd invite him....and get him to do some much needed heavy lifting around the house.
1:10pm. Have I really just been thinking about Survivor for 10 minutes? I am sad.
1:11pm. How could Jen make her kids tidy their rooms? What did Mum make me do? I think she just said if you don't, you can't go play at Natalie's house today. But funnily enough, I can't recall ever tidying, and I can recall playing at Natalie's lots. I have a feeling she bit the bullet and did it herself. Sorry Jen.
1:15pm. I feel bad that Antonia is trying to make friends in her baby group when if all the people there just knew how hilarious and awesome she was they would all be falling over themselves to hang out with her and drink tea. Must suggest to her to hand out a card with her website on it. Guaranteed buddies.
1:20pm. Realise I am a true child of pop culture, using my relaxation time to think about blogs and reality TV.
1:22pm. Dreading going back to the office and having to listen to my co-worker discuss the weather for 10 minutes, and how cold it may or may not be, and ask everyone in the room if it's cold, before venturing outside for lunch. We have floor to ceiling windows which funnily enough, I use to judge the weather from WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE and what pedestrians wandering past are wearing. Try it. And shut up.
1:25pm. Oof. It's getting rather warm in here and my back is all squidgy. I'm kinda wishing the beeps would happen....
1:26pm. Damn beeps.
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Warning: medical content may disturb
Poor old Bazzy. Over the weekend I’d noticed he’d been in the wars from rumbling with the neighbourhood cats. I think they don’t like him because he’s black.
Yesterday I get home from work and notice his wee face is all lopsided. On closer inspection, I see that the whole of one side of his face is swollen with the world’s grossest abscess. It’s stretched his skin so tight that I can almost see the ooze gurgling around inside.
Frantically calling all the vets (they’re all closed) I watch Basil like he’s a landmine. He doesn’t seem fazed, although is not keen on eating. Hardly surprising when most of your face is swimming in pus. He chases flies and jumps onto the couch and rubs against my legs but only on his good side. I have an Uncontrollable, Irresistable urge to stick a pin in it. The emergency vet I called said, don’t play with it. I poke it a bit. Basil leaps away. I put towels and sheets on all his favourite sleeping places and shut him out of my room. Of course when I get up in the morning he’s sleeping on the one place I didn’t put a sheet on but thankfully, it hasn’t popped. In fact, it’s twice the size. Basil now looks like a bulldog who’s chewing on a massive wad of tobacco. Or, the Elephant Man. I notice the abscess has developed a small leak and is oozing down his face. Gagging quietly, I stuff him into his cat cage and we pootle off to the vet, Basil questioning why the whole way. The vet goes, oooh that’s a good one! Normally they pop before they get this big! I feel proud. Then the vet ruins my day by saying he’s going to have to keep Basil in and drain it later on. But I want to seeeeeee! Repressing my urge to ask him to take photos I leave Basil whingeing in his cage and head off to work. Poor little guy. I pick him up at lunchtime so will let you know how he is.
Yesterday I get home from work and notice his wee face is all lopsided. On closer inspection, I see that the whole of one side of his face is swollen with the world’s grossest abscess. It’s stretched his skin so tight that I can almost see the ooze gurgling around inside.
Frantically calling all the vets (they’re all closed) I watch Basil like he’s a landmine. He doesn’t seem fazed, although is not keen on eating. Hardly surprising when most of your face is swimming in pus. He chases flies and jumps onto the couch and rubs against my legs but only on his good side. I have an Uncontrollable, Irresistable urge to stick a pin in it. The emergency vet I called said, don’t play with it. I poke it a bit. Basil leaps away. I put towels and sheets on all his favourite sleeping places and shut him out of my room. Of course when I get up in the morning he’s sleeping on the one place I didn’t put a sheet on but thankfully, it hasn’t popped. In fact, it’s twice the size. Basil now looks like a bulldog who’s chewing on a massive wad of tobacco. Or, the Elephant Man. I notice the abscess has developed a small leak and is oozing down his face. Gagging quietly, I stuff him into his cat cage and we pootle off to the vet, Basil questioning why the whole way. The vet goes, oooh that’s a good one! Normally they pop before they get this big! I feel proud. Then the vet ruins my day by saying he’s going to have to keep Basil in and drain it later on. But I want to seeeeeee! Repressing my urge to ask him to take photos I leave Basil whingeing in his cage and head off to work. Poor little guy. I pick him up at lunchtime so will let you know how he is.
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