I do love a Saturday morning

And then I do love the rest of the day as well.

Things that were good about this week:

Seeing this in the media

Here's another one:

Full story here. Although you know it won't really be the Full Story, because that can't really be written down anywhere.

Then there was this, a visual tree guide:

I hope you can make it bigger, it was bigger on the website.

There was some good writerly news that I mentioned might be imminent a little while ago. One of my short stories is being published in the Big Issue Fiction Edition, out on 16 August. Without knowing who else is in it, I'm sure it won't be hard for people to work out who I am. It's a bit exciting though which means there's been three bottles of champagne consumed this week. Not all on one night and not all by me.

That news came through on Wednesday, and that was the same afternoon my mum and Princess and I went to see Monet at the NGV. There is a pool with white bowls, much like the ones from my kitchen. The water moves around and the floating bowls chime against each other. It's gorgeous:



The Monet exhibition was beautiful. We went in at about 4pm and had an hour. It's a good time to go and often we make this type of stealth-approach on a Wednesday afternoon to see the exhibitions. They aren't crowded and it's a lovely mid-week treat. Loved seeing three of his paintings of London in smog/fog. Very Turneresque and just divine. Particularly this one:
 

There was only one painting of the waterlilies and the iconic green bridge but that was well-advised I think, if it was deliberate. Everyone knows about the waterlilies and the little green bridge, so the "Nymphaea" room was filled with paintings of the waterlilies (and even a few irises thrown in) and there was one in particular, round-framed and delicate. So pretty.

In one of the text boxes, a quotation from Monet:

It took me a while to understand my waterlilies.

This resonated with me so much, especially as this week I've been trying to work out what my second book-thing is 'about'. Who the fuck knows? I read today that EB White, when asked by his publisher why he chose to write Charlotte's Web gave a lovely response, describing his inspiration and why he chose to write about a pig and about a spider, then at the end he wrote: 

I haven't told you why I wrote the book but I haven't told why I sneeze either. A book is a sneeze.

I don't know if either of these sentiments make much sense to you but they do to me.

This was good. A panorama pic of Tokyo and you can zoom right in. When I zoomed right in it made me think of some of the scenes in 1Q84 like when they go down a ladder off the side of the freeway. I think I want to read that book again. This week too I bought Murakami's Wind Up Bird Chronicle. I have a lot of books on standby. They are patient.

Tokyo zoom

Then this piece of excrement:

Misogyny lurks in Winton's world of fiction

Such bullshit but it niggled at me and I spent far too much time thinking about the reasons why she is wrong. Luckily, other far more articulate people than me got into the letters pages to rebuff this stupidity.

And finally, this was waiting for me at the back door when I got home yesterday. I know it's not right to call one of your children stupid but really, when there's a shed open and available for shelter. Also a fucking garage...

Going a bit mad here

So no news on publishing front. It seems that my work is defo 'under consideration' but there are unforseen delays. My agent can't tell me more, and I can't tell you more either.

People, it's been 11 weeks since my thing was first sent out and while people are saying I have a bright future ahead of me and that I have an amazingly strong voice, fluid writing style, am a 'great writer' that I'm a real find etc - there are elements in play, obviously that I don't know about. Probably stuff like: yeah, but we can't sell a book like that OR oh another family saga? yawn OR Hmmm. This doesn't work so I can't sell it. Oh well.)

I am being calm and still and centred, as much as I can. But I've had a few dreams. In one, there was an email from my agent telling me this particular publisher who loves it had passed on it with regret. Another one where they made an offer and I couldn't get to a computer to read the email. Then other types of dreams, non booky ones but clearly anxiety dreams. In one, someone was wearing the exact same jacket I got in LA - a Calvin Klein orange puffy jacket, but so light, as light as air. I couldn't believe this person had my jacket. Otherwise I'm sleeping so well.

 

I'm also going a bit mad in other ways too. These flight benefits I've got at the moment are temporary and so 'to feel like I'm making the most of it' I've booked a trip to Hong Kong for me and Clokes next month for our anniversary and also a day trip for me to Brisbane to attend a writing workshop at the end of this month.

I'm walking every day and we have a new lead for the Gigi. I swear, she's 8 years old and has never walked well on a lead. I know now, because we got last pick of the litter, that she is the bad egg. She's a beautiful girl and lovely-natured and sociable; never shown any aggression BUT she is pig-headed and dominant and wants to walk out in front, thinking she is in charge. So I have one of those extendable/rectractable jobs which makes me feel like she's a fish on the end of my line and sometimes I have to reel her in, and sometimes I give her her head. It's working well. So P and me are walking every day and it's making me fitter and this, along with my stopping milk in coffee and 'avoiding wheat especially pasta' I am feeling really good and energetic.

Shit is happening overseas and at the moment, it's hard to filter it out, or filter it at all. Shit is happening here too. Tony Abbott is getting positive headlines to do with same-sex marriage? WTF is Gillard doing? Why oh why won't she go there? I don't get it. I bet personally she's okay with it. Good on NZ for doing it. I've said it before but really: NZ is the place to move to if things get too bad here.

And then the ANZAC thing is coming up again as it always does every year but this year it's making me sweaty in the armpits because I have a work in progress (my Turkish novel) that is concerned with Gallipoli and I'm thinking there'll be so many people trying to capitalise on next year being the 100 anniversary of the Gallipoli Campaign. I was there at ANZAC Cove for the 75th anniversary. I shook Bob and Hazel's hands (his: limp; hers: firm and friendly.) I feel I have so much material in my head, so many things I could write/can write but MAN it's hard to settle.

I need a list, and a plan. I have a new fascination with all things airline too. Did you know that on some of the Gulf State airlines you can take a falcon on board with you? As long as it's hooded, and tethered and only in Economy, you can travel with it on your arm. Limit of 6 per cabin though, on Qatar. This stuff is real in the world and it blows my mind.

 

Oprah has our dog

... or we have her dog. Either way, it's Gigi, second from left

the house of doom

time for a quick update on all things melbournegirl.
as it stands, i have one sick child at home (different to princess, she is back at school, and another is now home).
i feel i am not well, but holding it off so i can get through the next few days.
one sick dog, still. but she is so much on the improve, fingers crossed. thanks dxxxx for your lovely thoughts and non-prayer wishes. i don't do the prayer thing either, but am moved to speak of prayers when things go all black. i don't know why, i believe in the power of what would otherwise be known as prayer.
i apologise for this terrible writing.
yesterday the vet x-rayed the gigi, and said either she had an obstruction, which they would only confirm by opening her up, or colitis, which is inflamation of the colon.
[STOP PRESS I JUST REALISED HOW FUNNY THIS IS.
BEVIS????
THIS TYPE OF COLON NOT THIS TYPE (:), OKAY?




i'm not shitting you, we have a colon thing going on, on all fronts here.
the x-rays showed huge, loopy, gaseous intestines, but were not conclusive in terms of an obstruction.
so a very sad and ginger and droopy puppy was sent home with mummy. she ate some dinner last night, a small amount of raw chicken mince and cooked rice stirred through. wolfed it down. she is taking pills, shoved into the food, and i have to syringe 20mls of pink gloop down her throat and then of course as she swallows it, it spills out of her mouth onto my hand.
i won't tell you about the diarrhoea.
mother love.
but she is perkier than she has been in days. she lies on her bed and manages a tail wag when i talk to her. the vet said she tried to bite him when he was examining her again before the x-ray, and she was whimpering in pain as i held her when he checked her nether regions yesterday morning. but she didn't try to bite me.
thesis is going ok. i have to hand it in next wednesday. my supervisor is taking me out to lunch, to discuss the next step, maybe applying for a research grant together, with another academic. might be good.
and guess what. john arrived home from work last night, amongst the drama (mine), the exhaustion (mine) with a huge box of krispy kremes. the mixed dozen. we shared two last night and then i got indigestion and had to have a glass of milk before bed.
but they are sitting there, in the fridge.
i'll be good and wait until i get the other two from school, and we can share a couple.
back to work.
number of krispy kremes left in the fridge: 10

gigi guest post - "my garden"

hi everyone. i am gigi, a gorgeous yet modest golden retriever. i am thirteen months old, and i like bones, digging and jumping up on new friends.
this is a picture my mum took of me a few days ago.















this is one of the doors they don't let me in.

i like to get really close to my family.

















like really close.

if i can sit on you and lick your face, then my world is complete.


















 this is my water bowl. well, it's me with my water bowl.
















this is just my water bowl. often i like to dig in my water bowl and all the water comes out. then my mum has to fill it up again. this is a fun thing to do
















this is an old footy bladder i found near the tennis court. the tennis court has a lot of bushes around it, and i can get in there and find lots of stuff. mum calls it junk but i call it treasure.
















this is a rubber coil. i don't play with this one much. i don't know why. maybe because mum bought it from the shop, and it was expensive. i just like my "treasure" because i find it myself. satisfying. and unique.
















this is what they call a "kong". again it was expensive and i'm not really that into it. unless you put peanut butter or another expensive dog-foam-type product which comes in a canister inside it. then i lick it out. it takes about five minutes, tastes yum, is supposedly good for my dental hygiene. and then the kong just sits on the grass. again.
















this is a duck they gave me. i used to chew this alot, but then i grew out of it. don't know why they leave it outside. i'm all grown up now, and that's a puppy-toy.
















this one is a rope. it's kind of cool. i like to play with this one, it's nice and heavy so i feel tough when i carry it around. it's fun to toss my head, and then roll around with it. mum and i have a game where i get it, and go up to her, and she laughs and takes hold of the other end. then she pretends to be a dog and growls and tugs. she's pretty funny when she does it. so we play tug of war. i do it for her.
you can kind of see my legs here.
















this is a lobster. i got this for my birthday in november. you can't really see clearly but i have chewed off some of his legs. isn't that what you are meant to do with lobsters?*
but i really like this guy, i have had lots of fun with him. mum would toss him through the air for me and i'd go and fetch him.
don't mind his wide-eyed stare. he's ok, really. i didn't scare him, we are good friends.
















i was going to make a competition to see if anyone could guess what this is, but mum said i have to get off the computer. and that this is just a one-off guest post. so instead of having to guess what this is in the bottom of the wheelbarrow, i'll just tell you.

it's chewed up bits of plastic planter pots.
i just love plastic planter pots.
but mum's worried i might get a bowel obstruction if i eat too many of them.















one of the best things about being me is i have my own pool. i don't really mind that it's a hand-me-down from my older sister. i've been really enjoying it the last week or so, let me tell you.
















i get really excited by the water, and i dig, and i dig, and i dig.
















 then i get tired and i sit for a while. then i dig some more. eventually i get really tired.
















oh, i amost forgot to show you my wood.
when mum first saw it she thought it was something dead or part of a skeleton. but then she looked again and realised it was a very precious piece of old wood, from my treasure-section of the garden.
















i love my wood.
















i love my wood.
















the only other thing i've got to show you really, is my tomato plant.
this is me with my tomato plant outside another door they don't let me in. well, they do actually, because this leads to the laundry where i sleep. but there's another door inside this one.
that's the one they don't let me go in.
i guess it's ok.

mum thinks the tomato plant is hers, but i'm just waiting until the fruit is red, then i'm getting stuck in. hey, did you know tomatoes are a fruit? freaky! i think mum's forgotten i did that at the other house where there were cherry tomatoes. eat them off the plant, i mean.
i love cherry tomatoes. i love cherry tomatoes.
see ya!


* a bit of dog humour

before you think the worst, just know this has a happy ending

last night, gigi ran away.
i got a call from the local vet, and it went something like this:
rachel: hello, is that melbournegirl, this is rachel from henry the vet and i've got your dog here to be collected
[laughs at rachel, thinking she's made a mistake, she has the wrong number, wrong pooch, no idea, completely clueless, what a dill etc etc]
mg: i don't think you've got my dog there...
rachel: um, do you have a dog called gigi?
[mg stops laughing.]
mg: but gigi's in our backyard
rachel: no, she's here. she was found at the park, she's had a wonderful time. some people down there brought her here. um, can you come and collect her, we're actually closed now.
mg: oh my god. of course, of course
[thinks about "she's made a mistake, she has the wrong number, wrong pooch, no idea, completely clueless, what a dill" thoughts and feels like all of them]
rachel: you'll need to bring a towel she's a bit muddy, and her lead
[mg and john jump in car. mg can't believe it, gigi has somehow escaped. they get to the vet. rachel takes them into a back room where a very muddy and tired gigi languishes in a cage. she has a big strip of mud across her snout. it is very fetching.]
mg: oh gigi, you monkey. what have you been doing?
rachel: she was at the park for probably about half an hour. the people kept waiting for an owner to appear, she's had a ball as you can see. i didn't want to call the pound, she was obviously a much-loved pet
mg: yes, she is. my daughter's overseas, thank god nothing has happened to her. as you can see i've given her a bigger collar and haven't transferred her council rego tag and her name/phone number tag onto it
[mg feels like a dill]
[then there is conversation about how the contact details at microchip central have not been updated. that would be because i moved and didn't let them know. very very bad mg.]
so it all turned out ok.
we found out where she made her break.
the other side of the tennis court the fence is pretty ramshackle. a board was broken and there was a large gap, easy for a gigi to get through. and from there, luckily there were no roads to cross for her to get to the park, and to the mud puddle that she has gotten into a couple of times before.
john nailed up the fence. he was so sexy with his hammer. i handed him the nails. and felt girly.
---------------------------------------------
princess update. i spoke to her today she was watching something on disney channel on tv in the hotel room. she was distracted, and didn't even say she loves me when i told her i loved her, when we were saying goodbye. but they had a great time at sea world and saw all manner of groovy fish-beasts.
she said she wasn't sure of the plans for the next few days.
she said they were going out to eat dinner. that was about 7pm their time so hopefully they have by now and that she is in bed.
today i'm wearing a necklace she made me. it is braided wool (green, pink, orange, blue, purple) and has three beads which are an 'm', a 'u' and another 'm'. these are woven into place at the front, and there are some other beads too of different colours.
---------------------------------------------
we are going to see king kong tonight. have to make the most of child-free evenings and see all the movies on the list.
but will tape golden globes and neighbours. we laughed and laughed at evil harold last night. and paul's sudden agoraphobia (if that's what it is) is pretty entertaining too.
do you think harold's personality has split, truly, as a post-traumatic stress thing? it's just so unreal.
day 19
8 days to go

part 2 conclusion to yesterday's drama

here is what happened.
I’m sorry if it’s a let down and it certainly is not as exciting as some of the suggestions you made [fluffy, why didn’t I think of that. I could have easily rigged that up “just in case”.]
actually you made me realise i really should just post a picture of the woman. i found it on the hocking-stuart site:








and in spite of the gigipic from yesterday, here is she and me







okay, so now you can imagine it better.
so we are standing there, she has said to me “you have a dog don’t you?”
and I say “no”
and she shows me the piece of paper, and everything slows right down, and it’s like the air has become clear jelly and my arm pushes through it to take the paper, and my skin starts to prickle
and I look at it, and I go:
“no.”
the second "no" went up a little at the end, like a question, as if I was puzzled that there it was in black and white, such an unthinkable thing, that someone would be accusing me of having a dog, when there is obviously such a lack of dog-presence on the premises.
it was so pathetically transparent.
what was written on the paper was a note from the last REW [ the one who left to have a baby and who told me she would pretend she never knew about the dog, the one who I want to rot in hell, and her bloddy baby too]
[did I just say that?]
on the paper was: “tenants ok. they have a dog now.”
all I could do was the bill clinton defence. deny. deny. deny. but at least he used full sentences and I’m sure his skin didn’t prickle and his armpits remained dry and his air did not turn to jelly.
you see because he has a long history of being a lying prick, whereas I am a nice person.
she didn’t say anything, muttered something but i couldn't hear it over the pounding waves in my head and the buzz of heat. it was a terrible moment.
she knew I was lying, I knew she knew I was lying. and she didn’t say anything.
the thing is, my mum and I had spoken about “what if she asks about the dog?” a couple of weeks earlier. we had decided what I should say if she somehow asked:
“oh the dog didn’t work out, so she’s up at my aunt’s place at woodend”
[ i have read that to lie well you mix the lie with some truth]
but I panicked, and completely freaked out.
so then we continued on with the inspection, and she was talking about HER dog, blah de blah, and I felt it was a trap to make me think “oh she has a dog, she loves her dog, she is dog sympathetic so perhaps I will confess, she’ll understand”
but I didn’t. how could i just turn it all around.
when she walked outside I was sure she was looking down, searching for dog hairs. her nose was twitching, trying to sniff the poo that she KNEW must be there somewhere. she looked at the scuffled dirty semi-diggings around the edge of the grass. she saw the pot plant with the hastily scooped-back-in dirt.
back in the house, she said she wanted to test the smoke detectors. I told her they should be fine, I’d just changed both batteries.
“I still need to test them” she said
“Fine I said”
“just get out of my house” I thought
“I need something long to press them” she said
“try my nose” I thought
"ok I'll get a broom" I said
I went to the laundry and got the broom. I started walking back with it, then saw the white dog hairs all over the bristles, lifting up into the air as i walked.
I returned to the laundry and changed the broom for a rake – thank god for that rake!!! Thank god I was too lazy to put it back into the garage and it’s been in my laundry for the last two weeks. that rake was a gift from god.
smoke detectors were fine.
in an effort to put her off the dog trail, I told her I’ve got a property in st kilda that I’m renting out, and I’m not happy with those agents, and I’m thinking of changing agents, do you manage properties down that way? etc etc. like: I’m a landlord too, I’m not just some scuzzy liar hiding my dog from you.
finally she went.
I sat there with head in hands, arm pits dripping.
then I drove to my friend’s place who was babysitting the gigi. we had a coffee. I debriefed, telling her perhaps I should call NREW and confess.
she advised me not to. to just leave it. then her sister and bro-in-law arrived. he is a minister. so I sought his guidance, though I be not a religious girl.
he said the sweetest words:
“don’t do anything”
so that was good
I slept well last night, no dreams as I expected.
and that’s the end of the story. for now.
I am waiting for some sort of spot raid, letter in the mail saying “I know you lied, move out” and it is just all a bit of a worry.
PS Aleks this DID happen. I am not making it up.

bad start to the week - part 1

ok, last night i had a dream that upset me muchly. without mentioning details, it was vivid and it was horrible.
so i woke up with that funny feeling, you know, when it feels like it really happened, and your physical reaction is real. now, this is good for sex dreams, but not so good for those ones when someone you love dies, or someone is really mean to you, or there's unfaithfulness, or lying, or someone is trying to kill you, etc.
THEN, this morning the real estate lady came to inspect the house we are renting. last time there was an inspection, i didn't make any effort to hide the Gigi.









gigi love
i thought i'd be upfront and see what happened. i don't like lying, you see.
this was about 6 months ago, and the conversation went something like this:
Real Estate Woman: oh, so you have a dog
[pause while we both listen to the sounds of desperate puppy whining and scratching coming from further inside the house]
Me: yep
REW: so, did we get permission from the landlord about having a dog?
[do you not HATE that "we"?]
Me: um, no. I didn't think I needed to [nose starts to grow, strangely. but she didn't notice]
REW: oh yes, it's in the lease you signed

Me: well, let's ask the landlord then, and get his permission

REW: well I'd hate to ask him and him to say no. Then you'd have to get rid of your dog.

Me: um, well, I wouldn't get rid of her. I'd move house.

[pause]

REW: i think the best thing is if I pretend I don't know there's a dog here.

[cut to now, 6 months later. the last REW has left the job to have a baby. There's a new scary and tough-talking REW who I "met" on the phone to set up the appointment for 10am today.]

Now, I decide I won't be stupid again. I've heard about people who hide their dogs etc, so I duly organise for Gigi to go and play with her friend in the next suburb. I remove all evidence of a dog resident. This includes:

* piles of poo from backyard
* all the sticks she has dragged out of garden waste pile at back of garage. she likes to chew on them.
* one chewed-up, slobbered on teddy bear
* one purple dinosaur [ditto]
* one rope knot [ditto]

then i had to remove all her bedding, her food and water bowl, her eight tennis balls. and some more poo. and cover up the holes she has dug with some dried leaves and a big, moulded green plastic shell [for water play and sand play in the summer.]

then her hair. this didn't mean just vaccuuming. 9.55am saw me on hands and knees on the back ramp trying to sweep up bits of white hair that were showing up really clearly against the mission brown [gorge] paintwork. which i had just swept. and mopped.

i took down posters and duty roster PSP [my 8yo daughter] had made to welcome Gigi into the family.

i made sure nothing, nothing was in sight. hid the full 15kg bag of dried dog food in one of the cupboards.

then the new REW arrives 5 minutes late, after sitting in her car outside my place for a good 15 minutes to psyche me out.

after 60 seconds, the conversation is going like this:

NREW: so, is that your dog out the back?

[pause. we both listen to the yapping of dog next door]

Me: no, that's next door's. It's not around all the time I don't think. And there's a bigger one on the other side.

NREW: but you do have a dog don't you? [looks at me for an answer, and looks at a piece of paper she is holding in her hand.]

WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?

DID I LIE?
DID I TELL THE TRUTH?
DID I START TO CRY?
HOW SWEATY DID MY ARMPITS GET?
DID MY FACE GO RED AND DID I START TO TALK TOO MUCH TO TRY AND MOVE ON OUT OF THE "SITUATION" HOPING SHE WOULDN'T NOTICE MY DISTRESS?

gorgeous girl

gigi love

this is gigi, our puppy. she has grown since this was taken but she still has the eyes. you can't feel bad when she is around, even if it is day 23.

yesterday she had a bit of a fright. we got home and she was barking out the back, which is unusual. went in there and there was broken glass on the kitchen floor, the stool had been knocked over and [yep, sounds like a real murder scene]... but instead of blood on the floor and gigi standing over the body of the burglar, throat ripped out and candlesticks in sack, there was lots of dog wee and one little poo.

she was really scared. i worked out she had either tried to climb the stool [as she has seen us do, circus dog? peut-etre] gone flying off and smashed one of my large glass candle holders [spesh]. Or she had been wriggling under said stool to get her bone [which was still there], gotten caught, panicked, and wreaked havoc. [scenario two is most likely you say?]

anyway cleaned up all mess, meanwhile 8-year-old is upset in other room cause her tamagotchi died...

but today is another day. glass candle holder mourned very briefly. puppy paws checked for gashes - none to be seen. and how could i be cross with her for doing panic wee and poo on my [clean] kitchen floor. couldn't.