Sleeping with the Enemy

Christmas Anxiety has officially peaked today, as I hit the shops HARD and whacked our all our gift giving in two hours with twelve billion other people. Why do we shop like there is an apocalypse on its way?

I managed to lose my wallet, have a meltdown and a little cry while Jack retraced our steps and returned triumphant. Thank you to the staff at The Glue Store, who do not only provide excellent customer service “I have a 23 year old nephew who likes to go to music festivals…help.” they also assist flustered middle aged ladies who like to leave their wallets behind.

For one day, the shops are closed but this afternoon I need to go and get stuff to make a roasted vegetable salad. I have never made such a thing, so if you have a good recipe, please share it with me. I will be judged on it, so make sure its a good one.

This week has been an difficult one. I have, like you, been watching on in horror as the bushfires continue to take lives, homes and anything else that is standing in its way.

I had an interesting events happen while Mr Woog and Jack was in Japan. Jack won an award for outstanding achievements in the sport of competitive aerobics while Horatio was knocked off his perch of winning the maths prize for the year. He also didn’t do great in Dance, but thats ok. His dad is also not known for his love of the art of movement. Unless he is throwing himself down mountains on either bikes or skis.

Isobel became fixated on something in my bedroom. She would stand at the door and growl. I convinced that there was a mouse or a rat and asked Mr Woog to cut short his holiday to deal with the crisis. Unlike Mr Morrison, he refused to do so.

So then I called Horatio and told him to drop everything and come home. He came through the backdoor with his ex-girlfriend, who is extremely brave and so we both sent her in to check it out. She couldn’t find anything and we all agreed that Isobel was not fond of a tissue, and so it was removed.

Two days later, Mr Woog arrived and in the manner of his OCD set about unpacking all of the ski gear. He pulled out a bag from the bottom of the linen cupboard and something hissed at him.

IT WAS A FUCKING SNAKE! I had been sleeping on a bed with a snake underneath it for days. It was only a 3 foot green tree snake. BUT I LIVE IN FUCKING SYDNEY AND THI SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED. Mr Woog released it INTO THE BACK YARD and he said it gave him the finger as it slid off which I know is imposible.

Of course, my nerves have been rattled to the core and I can never go out the back again.

I went out to vent with the mothers of Horatio’s gang of mates, who I fondly refer to as The Goon Show. We discussed some less desirable decisions and behaviours that had occurred during the year, then realised that we all did the same at the same age and went on to get quite shitfaced. Me, despite being the youngest of the group, left at 9 pm because that to me is a huge night out.

Oh and we recorded the final episode of The Hot Flush for the year, so please, get stuck into it and know that you are not going crazy, you are just in great company!

I mean it. Roasted Vegetable Salad (to be served cold). Merci!