Life feels full of the unbloggable at the moment. I would love to explore how I am a bad daughter and how I should really respond to questions about certain things with conventional platitudes rather than say what I actually think. Sometimes saying what you think and feel is a really bad idea. I am nearly 48 and I should know that by now. Although the last week was better than usual, work is still pretty vile and also pretty much unbloggable, because you know it is work. Unfortunately I need keep working for the time being. The thought of being a customer where I work is not an appealing one on just so many levels.
The weather is lovely though and we have well and truly launched into dinner in the park season. I do like that. Last night Grace and I walked up to the wholesale butcher that has a little shop front and bought two nice pieces of scotch fillet. I liked how they cut it to order.I cooked up some potato and asparagus from the veggie box and made some lemon vinaigrette (declined by Grace) and I must say it was a ripper of a meal. Grace just seems to inhale meat when you put it in front of her at the moment so I'm making an effort to include it at least once a week. I think she's growing every time our backs are turned. Her height is totally off the chart for a six year old. But as our GP said after a recent check up, pulling himself up to his full 6 foot plus, tall is good. And she is bouncing off the walls with good health as well. She is just very, very tall for a six year old. Anyway dinner at the park has been going off. The children run around in packs until it gets dark and then some. The grown ups drink (a little bit) and talk shit and plot plans to make the world a better place, chat about plants and gardens, the school and how cute the newest baby on the block is. It's totally good. But the late nights for children take some patience the next day. And some discipline to get back into the swing of early nights.
Week before last I had a whole three days of commuting by public transport to Box Hill for work. I got a bit of knitting done - making hats for Christmas presents for my nieces (am so behind in my ravelrying and craft blogging that I can't think about it). It feels virtuous to have started that already. Indeed Christmas planning has well and truly started chez scruffnut. We think we're going to have it here and on some levels that is an insane decision but on others it might be quite nice. Anyway the commute was worth it to do some training for work. It was technical training and I expected it to be dull but it wasn't at all. It means I will be able to do another aspect of the work - I've done it before a long time ago - and I'm rusty as hell but it is expected that to start off that I will be slow and careful. Perhaps that's partly why I'm feeling better about work. And week before that I attended a different sort of training which was really in the form of a group debrief about some of the shitty stuff that happens at work. There was quite a bit of talk about the psychology of serial killers and aberrant behaviour, but the most interesting thing to me was the statistic from our employee counselling service that the biggest source of workplace stress by an astonishing margin, was not our customers but our management. Interesting and somewhat validating.
Oh and we have our friendly neighbourhood possums back. Gosh they are noisy.