THE GREAT GATSBY, BABY SPIDERS & POSH HOTELS

Amy and I share an office in the back of our home, that is light, cosy and lovely. If you discount the fact that the entire roof is destroyed from storms pre-dating our arrival (10 months ago). It is due to be fixed sometime before Quinn graduates high-school. Renting in Sydney is a special kind of pain.

For the past few weeks, we have shared the space not just with each other but also a huge huntsman that took up residence just above Amy’s head. Huntmans are regular visitors in most Sydney homes, and don’t bother anyone – except my American husband – much at all. Unfortunately with the recent weather, we’ve also had an invasion of ants, mozzies and cockroaches the size of Matchbox cars. Cockroaches bother everyone. Or at least they should. Older and more terrifying than dinosaurs, their very presence suggests a dirty house and I find that judgement almost more odious than the creatures themselves!

I’m not in the back office as often as Amy is, so last Friday while Gregory and I were there for a meeting, I noticed that next to the huntsman there was now a large blackish-grey mass surrounding a white blob.

‘What’s that Ames?’ I asked.

‘Oh I don’t know. You know I don’t have very good eyesight.’

True, you probably wouldn’t trust Amy to pin the tail on the donkey un-blindfolded, but I did think she’d have noticed this. I go in for a closer look…hundreds and hundreds of baby huntsmen had hatched from the white blob and seemed to be gathering momentum for their mass exodus. Right onto Amy’s head.

 

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That was it for the meeting, Gregory couldn’t concentrate on anything, I provided the girls with a David Attenborough lesson in their very own backyard and we set about relocating the babies and their mama to the gum tree in the back lane.

This is a perfect example of how Hartsyard operates. We notice a potential threat. It’s discussed, but with our usual optimism, nobody does anything assuming it won’t eventuate. The threat grows, one of us considers it unremarkable and continues about their business until someone else raises the alarm. Then it’s all hands on deck as we try to prevent going the way of the dinosaurs.

I am writing this with a view of the Yarra in a posh hotel in Melbourne where we are staying while Gregory and Harry (our pastry chef) sugar-up Melburnians with their treats in the Urban Dairy tent for Melbourne Food and Wine Festival.

I tell you people, a good night’s sleep in a hotel bed, curtains that actually block out the light, minus two children that normally sleep snaked around you, their hot breath leaving condensation on both your cheeks, I am a new woman. The normal fuzzy-brained tiredness I operate under has lifted and I see before me the green light, the orgastic future…oh wait, that was Gatsby and things didn’t really turn out too well for him.

The point is, one day you can be staging a catch and release of hundreds of arachnids with high potential for the whole thing to go tits up, the next you can be sipping a flat white in peace, your husband doing all the work and feeling reasonably certain you’re going to get away with it for today at least.

Happy Friday everyone. May you too see the green light, sail through today and dodge any threats, potential or otherwise.

 

 

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