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The Motor Boat Kid

The Motor Boat Kid

Our 9 year-old daughter came home from school today having acquired a new fact for her collection of historical miscellany. Apparently, the first ever speedboat racing title was won by a female racer in the 1920s. Tiff now claims to have her heart set on getting hold of a boat to go with her newfound fact.

She wants a motor boat, naturally. It does sound like a perfectly good thing to get into, if a bit on the expensive side… but hey, so is learning to play the violin. I’ve just noticed that Tiff’s fascinations often seem to be kind of fleeting. My two cents on the matter is that she needs to knuckle down at one thing for long enough to really develop a passion for it. Could boats be that thing? It’s entirely possible.

I wish there was a way for her to explore this without having to invest in, well, a boat. I’m picturing some kind of kids’ club where they can explore the process of deconstructing a hull and fixing an outboard motor. Melbourne doesn’t have anything in the way of that kind of activity, as far as I know, and I’m probably not going to be the one to get it going, seeing as I’m completely devoid of mechanical expertise.

My teenage son tells me that his mate’s sister carried out a survey of anchor systems and winches in Melbourne as part of a statistics course for her engineering degree. This person is probably the closest link I have to knowledge even vaguely related to the subject at hand. Perhaps she could, at least, have a chat to Tiff about what might be involved in marine engineering, which would lend a clearer focus to a her fascination.

I’d really love it if this became Tiff’s ‘thing’. It’s just that she’s yet to demonstrate to me that she has a genuine interest in fitting boat parts and mastering their use. I have no doubt that she could get to that point if she’d just stop hopping from one passing interest to the next.

Prepare for the Cat and Dog Sporting Bonanza

Prepare for the Cat and Dog Sporting Bonanza

According to my research, cats are smarter than possums. And I’ve known some pretty smart possums in my time, let me tell you. One time when I went camping, a bunch of them formed an alliance with what I can only assume was a husband-and-wife duo of wombats and chewed through my tent AND my rucksack while I was out gathering water. Then I came back to find that they’d unwrapped all my protein bars, leaving me with…no protein bars.

So cats are pretty smart. And I think we all know that dogs are actually smarter than cats, though it can be obscured by their love and devotion. So the Cat and Dog Sporting Bonanza is going to go great, is what I’m saying. Maybe we’ll even make it a yearly mainstay, beloved across the city.

I’ve already talked to some people about extra-strength cricket netting, because I know some dogs like to chew, and some cats love to claw, and I think during the events they might think it to their advantage if they destroy the netting. That’s not so much of a problem with people, where you just have to worry about netting that can stop balls of various sizes, but now it’s serious. We need GOOD quality netting that can withstand a bit of foul play.

Our initial lineup is kitty cricket, doggy football and mixed tennis. I hope people don’t think it’s discriminatory that we’ve separated the first two, but my research indicates that each animal gravitates towards certain skills. Dogs are just better at football. People can moan, but it’s just genetics. The mixed tennis is going to be quite a show, once all the animals are trained. Essentially, we’re pitting the dexterity of cats against the raw power of dogs. Hence why the indoor tennis nets are going to have to be as robust as it gets. Resistant to ALL biting, clawing, scratching, chewing…and probably low-allergenic as well. It’s for the fans.

-Roberto

My Inciting Fitness Incident

My Inciting Fitness Incident

They say the fitness trend only took off in the early 2000s, but I’m a little bit older and I can tell you that it’s been around for decades longer than that. Just because protein powder can now taste quite nice instead of being beige slop doesn’t mean we didn’t know how to keep fit before then.

Oh, I remember ignoring ALL that fitness advice through my teens and twenties, even though I bought the fitness magazines. Maybe I thought that just the act of buying them was going to bulk me up a bit, but instead…well, here I am in an oxygen chamber.

I had no idea I was in such poor shape. I’ve known about the hyperbaric oxygen chamber treatments in Melbourne for ages, but I always assumed they were for the very elderly, or maybe people recovering from sports injuries. Maybe people who inhaled too much smoke for one reason or another. And the only reason I’m here at all is because I was trying to do a nice thing. I saw a girl getting her handbag snatched, then my legs were just moving by themselves. Guess I have a hidden heroic streak, because I was tearing down the road trying to get it back. Eventually the guy hastily grabbed a few things from it- not her purse, fortunately- and dumped the bag, but I didn’t really know what happened afterwards because I was being loaded into an ambulance with severe breathing difficulties and an oxygen mask across my face.

I mean, it’s pretty nice. I could get used to hyperbaric medicine. Melbourne is pretty well-equipped in that regard. But still, I’m sick to death of being so unfit that I can’t even sprint a short distance, and if anything is an inciting incident, it’s this. Guess it’s back to buying those fitness magazines and getting into the basics. Slowly. With caution. I’m not twenty-five any more…

-Ted

The Not-So-Magical Woodlands

The Not-So-Magical Woodlands

Buy a summer home with woodlands, they said. It will be whimsical, they said.

By ‘they’, I am of course referring to the estate agents, who must’ve thought they’d gotten a real sucker in the office. We DID look through the woodlands out the back, and they seemed to be quite nice. Bit random, but it’s not like we really had to do anything except have a picnic in there occasionally.

Oh no. Oh no indeed. Not only is there SO much maintenance- to an area where we don’t even live for most of the year, mind you- but it’s also a huge pain to clear, and extremely expensive. So if anyone ever needs the numbers to some well-rated tree removal people in Oakleigh, I’d be happy to hook you up, because we’ve been doing quite a lot of business recently. Oh, we’ve become quite close, all the professional outdoorsy people who keep these woodlands from taking over our summer home. Ideally I want to sell it off, but no one wants to take it because they all make smarter decisions about real estate than we do.

To be fair, it’s a really nice home. We didn’t really want the land, but we didn’t think it would be this much work, or so much money to maintain.

Tried cutting down a few of the trees myself. Got about one-and-a-half ways through the first ones and thought I’d give up on THAT little plan. Besides, it was exhausting enough just doing the one, and I’m not a professional arborist so I don’t know how to get rid of them permanently. The way I chop them down, it leaves a bunch of stumps all around the place that’ll probably just grow back in enough time.

So that’s us, with a beautiful summer home and several acres of horrible woodlands that would require a legion of Melbourne’s best tree lopping people before it’s useful for anything. Hooray for land ownership.

-Joss

Melbourne Man Blames “Yowie” for Broken Door

Melbourne Man Blames “Yowie” for Broken Door

Local authorities have been unable to locate a six foot tall “Yowie” that has reportedly been destroying property in the south east suburbs. They did however, arrest local 42 year old Gary Jacob for the destruction. Despite his cries of innocence, the Oakleigh man was still taken to station for questioning.

Early Sunday morning neighbours stated that they saw Gary dressed as a “bigfoot-like creature” stumbling into his home, with broken glass and timber trailing his ute. Neighbours say that he has always had a penchant for trouble making, but this was too far. Gary, a former factory worker, had recently been fired from his job, and decided to take it out of the local property. Up to 34 homes have been affected by what some have dubbed Hurricane Yowie, with estimates of thousands of dollars worth of timber and aluminium door being destroyed by Gary.

The Oakleigh man is still sticking to his story, and states that he knew that there was a Yowie around the area because it came up to his house one day. “It didn’t smash my doors because I’d seen him before, and knew what to do about him. That’s why my doors have been spared”. He gave a recommendation to a local aluminium door replacement company in Melbourne, “out of the goodness of my heart”.

Authorities aren’t convinced by Gary’s story, and have stated that he willingly destroyed hundreds of windows, in an act of “stunningly bizarre vandalism”. Searches to find the Yowie have been unsuccessful, but police are confident that a conviction will be laid against Gary for his monstrous crime.

This isn’t bad news for all though; there has been a marked increase in for window repairs in Melbourne ever since the attacks started. It is unknown at this time whether not that influenced Gary’s decision making. Still unknown is the reason behind the definitely unique choice of uniform.

Pro-car-stination

Pro-car-stination

Late to work again! My stupid car broke down on the freeway, yet again. I mean, if I’m being honest, I suppose I shouldn’t blame the car – I’m the one who’s been putting off having it serviced for over a year now. I realise that this is not the best way of going about things, especially given how prone this sensitive petal of a car is to breaking down.

It’s just that, since I got this finance job, I barely have time to brush my teeth, let alone worry about car servicing. Ringwood is quite a trek from where I live, which doesn’t help matters with (a) finding time to go without a car and (b) keeping these mechanical issues at bay.

When I first got the thing a few years ago, I had it serviced religiously because I was determined to keep the warranty intact. There was an excellent mechanic near where I worked at the time (on fewer hours, I might add) who was considered to be the go-to guy for manufacturer’s logbook servicing. But then he retired, my warranty ended and I kind of fell off the wagon with the regular mechanical check-ups.

Unfortunately, it’s now been so long that the car is in need of not just servicing, but also repairs. If I can find somewhere reputable for car repairs in Ringwood, then perhaps I can have it towed there from where I left it in Mitcham this morning and pick it up later in the week on my way home from work.  

Okay, that sounds achievable. It’s all going to be just fine – even though it’s going to be a slog getting the train out here tomorrow, it’ll be worth it if I can get that overdue brake pad replacement. Then there’s that weird light on the dashboard – I want to know what that’s all about. Oh, and let’s not forget the weird grinding sound that seems to be coming from the air conditioner…

Uni Stress = No Sleep

Uni Stress = No Sleep

I just caught up with my sister, Tania, for a coffee at her uni campus, and was immediately struck by the massive bags under her eyes. I cracked a joke that she’d been partying too hard, but she told me that she’d actually been having heaps of trouble sleeping for the past couple of weeks, to the point that she’d describe it as insomnia.

Sounds awful to me! Tania said she’d first noticed it after submitting a particularly gruelling maths assessment for her engineering course, which she’d been unusually worried about. The stress symptoms have persisted, even though she’s already gotten the marks back for that test. On top of that, the insomnia has started to degrade her overall mental and physical health – she seems to be at the end of her tether!

I asked her if she’d been to a GP. She said she had, and that she’d been referred to a psychologist at the uni, but that she’d prefer a referral to a psychologist in Mornington since she’s going to visit our parents there on her break in a couple of weeks. She reckons she has too much on at the moment. Seems like self-defeating reasoning to me – how is she going to get anything done if she’s exhausted all the time?

In my view, Tania probably thinks it’s normal to not be sleeping. I remember that, when I was at uni, it was de rigueur to go around in a zombie-like state. But chucking an all-nighter to finish an important assignment or staying out til 6am at a party is different to genuinely not being able to sleep due to anxiety, especially if this is in an ongoing capacity.

I have a friend who knows a psychiatrist in the Mornington area – I’m not sure if a psychiatrist is in order in this situation (seeing as Tania was referred to a psychologist) but maybe I could look into the options. I’d like to assist Tania in getting her  mental health support, not to mention a good night’s sleep.

Christmas: A Time for Experiences

Christmas: A Time for Experiences

And so this is Christmas. And what have we done? Another year over. A new one just begun.

Well, not yet…we have to get through Christmas first. Shopping is basically done; just have to print off a few gift certificates and maybe wrap them for a laugh. They won’t look like the most impressive under the tree, but big things come in small packages. That’s what Dad used to say when he was experimenting with dynamite in the back garden. Didn’t actually manage to save up for his prosthetic spine this year, but he gets around in his wheelchair just fine.

‘Experiences’, they say. ‘Experiences’ are better than ‘things’. So while all my presents to the family seem total lame this year, from a gift-wrapping point of view, they’re all amazing. Vaughn is getting a track racing experience, of course. Easiest of them all. Mum is going to a spa, but specifically not one where they play zen music or try to unlock your chakras. Kelly is an interesting one. There are all these dry needling courses taking place in Christchurch…you’ve probably heard of them, causing a bit of a stir, or so they say. My sister has been saying for ages that she doesn’t feel like massage therapy is her calling. Bit of a daring present, buying someone a place on a course that they might not even like. But that’s ALL presents. You don’t know if a person likes it before they open the present. You don’t even know AFTER. They always smile and say thanks, even if they’re thinking about the most efficient way to get rid of it.

But Kelly has the hands of surgeon. I think she’d be a great dry needler. Mum will be happy that Kelly is doing something mystical rather than scientific, she might be able to do something about all those sporting injuries Vaughn keeps getting, and a trigger point dry needling course isn’t THAT different to massage therapy.

That just leaves Dad. He can’t do much. The cinema membership should keep him entertained, though.

–Wesker

Great Ocean Road, Baby

Great Ocean Road, Baby

I just got a message from my high school pal, Theresa. We haven’t caught up in yonks, so it was a bit out of the blue. As it turned out, the reason she was getting in touch was that she had a baby a few months ago, and wants me to come and meet it. I was mildly put out – just for a second – that she hadn’t thought to get in touch with me before the baby was born, but I got over it pretty quickly and agreed to visit her in Lorne next weekend.

I’m not especially keen to stay with Theresa, even though she’s thoughtfully offered me a fold-out couch. I mean, she has a four month-old baby and a hubby I’ve never met. No thanks! I’ll find my own accommodation. It’s a nice little opportunity for a drive down the Great Ocean Road, actually – a mini break away from Melbourne. I’m thinking I’ll splash out on a luxury holiday apartment. Lorne must have something like that on offer, with a view to boot.

I know the whole point is for me to meet the bub, but I wonder if she’ll agree to meet me for dinner and drinks sans baby. Maybe we can squeeze in some day spa action before heading out for some local seafood and a few cheeky cocktails. I’d love to go for a walk up the coast to the lighthouse as well, or down to Erskine Falls. The last time I was around Lorne would have been for the coffee-roasters conference last year – I’m always a fan of that crew’s penchant for conference venues on the coast. Victoria hasn’t got as many of these as NSW does, but it has its own charm.

Now that I’m thinking about it, it seems pretty clear that I’m in dire need of a coastal getaway. I should probably separate that out from my long overdue social catch-up, but it’s not my fault that that’s to take place in an idyllic beachside holiday town. Gotta make the most of that!

A Shy Kids’ Raging Party

A Shy Kids’ Raging Party

My best friend Rebecca has a ten year old daughter, Grace. She is a great kid but quite shy, and  it is really hard to get her excited about anything that involves parties and lots of attention. She’d been halfheartedly looking for kids party venues in Melbourne and hadn’t found anything she felt was right for Grace. Grace is generally happiest when she’s active; she loves sport and loves playing in teams. She’s really blossoms when she is given the option to get involved in a sport.

Rebecca had been frustrated because Grace doesn’t seem interested in the things Rebecca  expects her to take a shine to. For example, when she told her daughter that they’d be throwing a party for her on her eleventh birthday, Grace seemed nonchalant, and maybe a bit anxious.

Only weeks ago, I’d found out about some amazing birthday party venues. Melbourne’s biggest gem was right under our noses- the ice skating rink! To take the pressure off Rebecca I offered to help find a great place, and looking at so many different places, as far as birthday party venues, Melbourne is definitely the place to celebrate. Luckily for Grace, there is something for everyone.

Rebecca got in contact with management and made a booking for Grace.We talked about some of the options she might consider, and really surprised her with our idea. She had been to the rink before with a friend and although she hadn’t done much skating, she’d picked it up quickly and loved it.

The party was amazing for the kids. Party venues have to get it spot and they really have this down pat: every kid had rosy cheeks from flying around the rink from the word go, and though they were keen to get moving again, the party food was a huge win, with some pretty tricky dietary requirements thrown into the mix. Rebecca will definitely be looking to book another party at the rink again in the future.