Standards are dropping pretty low on the home front around here. Mount Washmore continues to defy geological odds by actually increasing in height, as washing gets cleaned, dried but not folded, we are on a steady diet of warm weetbix and bacon, and this morning Gregory and I both awoke with hangovers on account of a date night last night (our first in 6 months. We used a gift voucher for a restaurant, but it still cost us $150 because Gregory orders like a chef. ie everything on the menu) then got dressed for the day only to discover we have run out of deodorant.
As my aunt pointed out, that’s why the french invented perfume, so I am now liberally doused in a perfume Gregory bought me when we actually had an income, and am glad the bureau of meteorology got it wrong – again – and it is not the 29 degrees that was predicted.
I hope all this lack of action around the home is inversely proportional to the action going on at the restaurant. The builder returned today, which is helpful as the building isn’t actually finished.
The greenhouse is still far from green, in fact it’s far from being a greenhouse at all really, as we had run out of flanges to attach the piping to the walls and Gregory, the plumber and the builder all swore there were none left in all of Sydney.
But I suspect they had a man look. You know the one, when a man opens the fridge and can’t see the eggs sitting on the shelf in front of him, because I did an internet search, rang the first person on the list and am about to go and pick up 30 flanges from a lovely man in the northern parts of Sydney.
Of course, this store is 30 minutes from home, but only a stone’s throw from my parents place, from whence I have just returned, having dropped our daughter there, who is now sleeping so I can’t even make my mum go and get them for me.
It appears Mount Washmore is set to grow again, and I won’t get to any of the invoices that are staring me in the face. Sorry people, I’ll pay you Monday.
It also appears that we won’t have chairs for the opening, but we refuse to let that stop us, and are throwing the doors open to the public on Saturday 26 May 2012.
I said it.
On the internet.
We can’t back out now.
We will be taking reservations, just not yet, as I haven’t worked out how to set up the email account, and while the phone line is installed, I haven’t yet bought phones.
Just like in the theatre, we’ll be doing several dress rehearsals beforehand, serving friends and family sympathetic to the cause, and who won’t mind kneeling on account of no chairs.
No, seriously, I do have a plan to best the great chair disaster of 2012, but will reveal it only when I’ve worked out all the logistical links. (I’m not sure I can carry 34 chairs from the local Masonic Lodge all by myself).
But for now, it’s off to the plumbing supply store, to buy the flanges to get to the restaurant, to give to the builder, to build the greenhouse, to grow the food, to serve in the restaurant that Gregory and Naomi built.
Remember that nursery rhyme? This is the house that Jack built.
Let’s hope this one has a happy ending.
Caption: Flanges are the circular bits attached to the wall. Don’t be embarrassed if you didn’t know. I thought they were a dessert.