Tuning in

I'M in love with Victor Meldrew. And Frank Spencer. And Rodney Trotter. I've even got all unnecessary over Ken Barlow.

Never before have I gotten excited over tuning into One Foot in the Grave or even other soaps I never gave the time of day including Emmerdale but now we've had Foxtel installed, I'm as happy as a kangaroo in a boxing ring.

Back in Blighty, I hardly ever sat long enough to watch the final chapter of anything that featured on the small screen. Now, and until the novelty wears off, I'm in front of the gogglebox soaking up every last bit of anything dishing out a Pommy accent.

So last night, I enjoyed my first Ozzie Corrie ... only I couldn't work out where I was upto in the storyline. It's more than three months since I've clapped eyes on the credit rolling cobbles and more than familiar theme tune and last night's episode was showing the scenes of Gail suffering from memory loss and trying to piece together how she came to fall down the stairs at her home to end up on crutches.

Now maybe it's me with the memory loss, but I can't for the life of me remember whether it's me falling so far behind or the UKTV channel itself.
But now I know it's the latter as I've just tuned into the subsequent episode to see Paul squirm as his dodgy insurance claim at the restaurant he set fire to falls apart around his Duckworth ears.
The only shows coming in as marginally older than these ageing soap episodes feature On the Buses with Reg Varney and re-runs of 'Allo 'Allo and Are You Being Served...?

So, while some sort of familiarity has been finally restored in the gogglebox department, the only thing I have to get over now is regaining some of the same when I'm out provision shopping for hours on end.

I gaze all blurry-eyed at the shelves trying to match my former shopping lists with the array of products I'm now faced with. I'm looking for beef and I get blade, when I want Cheddar cheese, I'm offered 'Tasty' and when I fancy some Ragu, I get Leggo.

Every mealtime has an element of surprise as the Aussie way of life learning curve continues....

Anyone for coffee? ... hang on, need to go on a course first!

NEVER thought I'd hear myself say this but ..."Thank heaven for rain." Not so much for the environmental and ecological issues for the country ... but so I can get on with my ironing.

Yes, I do have all day to myself these days while the boys are at school and husband is at work but when it's so nice outside who wants to be attached to a hot steamy thing for hours on end??

So while the colourful expanse of fabrics on the living room floor outgrows its linen basket home and grows further, I continue to accept invitations from my newfound friends to frequent the local wineries to sample their cheese platters and Chardonnay. What's the point of being in the heart of wine country when you can't get around and sample their wares?

I keep explaining to disgruntled other half that it's all in the name of PR. When our flocks of visitors come over and ask us for somewhere to go, I need to be armed with the information they want to hear. And for that, homework and research needs to be done in copious amounts (do you think he'll fall for THAT???)

So while he continues to leave the house at 4.30am to earn a crust, I grab another three hours of beauty sleep and wake to thoughts of how to fill my day. I always imagined I'd get bored being a housewife but I'm absolutely loving it. Although I am due an interview with the jobseekers company we signed up with when we first arrived.

Having been registered with them for 10 weeks, they offer an appointment to help with job applications and interview techniques. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I've only been seeking work for the past week or two, with half opened eyes casting over intermittent sits-vac newspaper columns. I came out here with a view of trying something new, be it bar work or supermarket shelf stacking.

But as time goes on, I'm discovering that to work in a bar you need to pass a college course on serving alcohol and there's even a licence required for making public coffee. $100 for a couple of hours on a course learning how to make a cappucino? Sounds outrageous but if that's what the public wants, that's what the public gets.

Maybe there's a certain way on how to froth up the foam or even shake the chocolate powder onto the finished work of art?

Whatever happened to learning on the job?

Funny old world

AUSTRALIA is such a laid back sort of place. It holds no reserve and if it's residents have something to say, they just spit it right out. The most used phrases are "naa waarrries" and "naa drama" and my youngest son is acquiring quite the Aussie accent.

He doesn't have 'lettuce' anymore - it's 'lerris' - and when he falls off his bike and cuts his knees, it's a Band Aid he asks for not a plaster. 'No' is now 'noy' and yes is 'yiii' .... takes some getting used to.

At the weekend, we met an English couple who moved out here seven years ago.
Although she has kept a tight grip on her UK accent, he on the other hand, sounds like he's a native through and through.

He was telling us he's from south of the Watford Gap and that explains how he's lost his reserved Britishness. Apparently, those from up north don't generally lose the tones of their mother tongue but after listening to number two son these days, I beg to differ.

The TV and radio stations here also just say it as it is. I sat in the car the other night in disbelief at what was emanating from its speakers. It was 6.10pm on a weekday night and the two show presenters had a live caller on the phone-in line.

I won't go into any great detail but let's just say that the conversation between the three over the subject of smoking got a little heated.
In the 10 minutes I was tuned in for, there were three quite strong references of one telling the other "where to go" if you catch my drift and although I pride myself on my broad-mindedness, I find this sort of dialect offensive if there are impressionable youngsters around.

Then I'd only just got the boys off to bed, so it wasn't all that late, when on the TV came an advert from the ... wait for it ... "Bedroom Police"!
In this little piece of tongue in cheek advertising, a team of uniformed officers storm into a bedroom and ask the guy ... "Do you know how fast you were going Sir?" and proceed to rectify his 'speeding problem' with the necessary product.

You just have to laugh...

Identity crisis

TASKS are so much easier when you have the right equipment for the job.

For months, we've struggled "making do" until our possessions arrived on the container. Any jobs I needed seeing to by my more-than-handy-hubby had to go on the back burner while he eagerly awaited his Snap On toolboxes full of forty years' worth of tool collection.

A particular problem I, personally, have been encountering has been the payment of my UK mobile phone bill. I wanted to keep it for the initial few months after arrival in Australia as it was my way of keeping a familiar sort of contact. A comfort blanket so to speak. An electronic soother.

So when it came to paying the UK-sourced bill each month, I was in between the devil and the deep blue Pacific Ocean ... literally. The first month, I had to get my brother to get out his plastic and pay it on my behalf but there's only so many times you can ask that sort of favour. So we decided it was a priority to get a credit card.

But it's only after being in the country for so long that you can apply for such luxurious items as credit cards. And to apply for one, you have to provide more than one form of proof of identity. One we had in our passports. The other was, however, not forthcoming.

Our UK driving licences were obsolete as we needed the Australian photo ID ones that come printed with a current address. We had only just moved into the house we're renting and so had not even had a utility bill with our name and address printed on it and the bank staff here didn't know us from Adam. Not like our local branch that used to speak with us on first name terms.

So the chicken and the egg problem has been ongoing and we've begun to appreciate how difficult and mind-numbingly exhaustive putting the legwork into a new life has become.

But now we've had a few bills and have posed for driving licence mugshots, we've got some plastic!! I'm beside myself. Excited. And feel back in control of my finances.
Now we've been here a few months, the roots we're putting down, although there's still a lot of watering to do, are growing in steady measures.

Transatlantic transactions have never been easier. I just went online to view the bank balance, went to the phone and used the mobile phone company's automated service, tapped in a few numbers and hung up. I got back to the laptop and voila! The payment had gone through before I'd got back to my seat.

Technology is a wonderful thing that I never want to be without ever again.