New girl at the office

I HATE being the new girl at the office... I feel awkward, clumsy and not my usual streamlined self. But can think of no better place to be new.

I've just got part time week 2 under my belt and, slowly but surely, things are slotting into place. I'm now an allocations co-ordinator for a popular and very professional nursing agency and the pace here is fast.

Shift work is involved which is something in itself totally new to me but when you're working with a team like this, the hours don't really matter. From an outsider looking in, I can sense these girls have a real bond with eachother and I feel flattered that their door has been opened to let me in too.

I have had a bit of a struggle with the profession's terminology mind. I'm just one cog in the well-oiled allocation team's machinery that takes calls from hospitals, aged care units and all manner of medical facilities who, for one reason or another, find themselves short-staffed at the eleventh hour and need to find staff for the fast approaching shift. And pronto.

We take their details, book in the shift and then check on the availability of those nursing professionals that fit the last minute bill. During my first week, I didn't know a Div 2 Med Endorsed from an RN with specials experience but my mental framework is managing to bolt itself down. The only bit of nursing role experience I have is that of the midwife ... and there's plenty of those on the shortage list round these parts too.

Last night almost killed me, mind. My shift was 2pm-11.30pm and after the majority of staff had left for home about 6pm, my manager and I were left holding the fort. It got a little heavy at times and I wondered if we'd ever get through it, but come the strike of 10.45pm, the phones stopped shrieking at us and we were able to catch up and catch our breath.

Today I'm in at 2pm but only until 9pm. That means I'll probably get to sleep about 11.30pm after I've brought my spinning head right home to Mt Martha. I can totally understand now how anyone who works shifts simply cannot go straight to bed when they get home. I had a friend in UK who would work a regular night shift and come in at 8.30am to settle down with a glass of Port. I could never get my head around that ... until now.

So my nickname of Easy Life Wife can now be cast aside with the countless others that husband has scribed for me over the past few months ... I might only be a part time worker but I'm a full time mum and even more full time party girl now I have a job that pays enough to keep me in copious amounts of lipstick and grog.

Cheers!

Getting hot hot hot

HERE comes the sun. And with it, comes all the good things like alfresco socialising, beach trips and balmy evenings out.

On the flip side, the heat has brought to this air-con lacking house drowsiness, sons that bicker and parents that reach for chilled tinnies at any given opportunity.
We're not used to average daily temps hitting 35. A quick conversion for those who, like me, can't drag themselves out of the Fahrenheit era, that's a whopping thermometer-busting 95.

When we first moved into our house a few weeks ago, I was disappointed that one side of the house was always dark... in the shade and out of the spotlight. But now, this part of the house is the most used as we take shelter from the relentless rays beating down on us. It's only now that I'm really believing that there IS a massive hole in the ozone right over Australia because I can feel it.

But the good thing about Melbourne is that whatever weather is thrown at you, it always breaks after a few days. If it rains, you know it's not going to be for long. If it's windy, that'll soon change and if it's baking hot, you only have to put up with it temporarily until break day comes.

We're not even into the height of summer yet so I'm trying to acclimatise myself before the onslaught of December, January and February.

The boys wake up on school mornings all drowsy and naggy but I'm hoping that will get better as time goes on. One thing that wakes them up nicely though is the discovery of local wildlife that finds its way indoors to shelter from the sun.

Only the other day we came face to face with what I would describe a MASSIVE spider. All furry and black and very, very still. Which is always a good factor for spiders. The stiller, the better as far as I'm concerned.
He stayed there on his ceiling spot just the right amount of time for me to grab the vacuum and get him sucked right up the pole to the feverish chanting of "Go on Mum.. Go on Mum..."

So spurred on with encouragement by my boys, I disposed of the critter accordingly and watched him spin around the filter a couple of times before disconnecting the electricity supply. There was no way I was going to risk releasing the revengeful beast back into southern hemisphere society so had to be sure he was a gonna before I pulled the plug.

But I've been told it's not the big ones that are the menaces ... it's the little, tiny, itsy bitsy ones that hide in shoes that seem to be the ones to keep an eye out for. And that's probably why the Aussies all put their feet into thongs or even nothing at all...

Dream on

WE'RE living in a wonderful part of the world. And that's what every Aussie round these parts will tell you. I always like to step back and watch their reactions when I ask them if they like their neck of the woods.

They almost fall over themselves with enthusiasm and it makes me feel all warm inside. I can't ever remember speaking to anyone in my entire life who was so proud of their own surroundings. And now, I have become a part of it.

Only yesterday I took the pup to the leash-free area around the corner. There, I chatted with a native for a while and after half an hour, I knew his name, where he lived, the operation his wife was due to have, the name of his dog and what he did for a living.
This dog-exercising-rendez-vous resulted in an invitation to join them for dinner and Hey Presto, there's another "friendship" under our belts.

It's so easy to get along with these people. I feel terribly embarrassed at the sheer amount of Poms on the peninsula and would say the ratio is coming in at 50:50. But then I have absolutely no need to be embarrassed as every Aussie I speak to loves us and loves the fact that we're all coming over in plane fulls to 'live the dream'.... looking at the amount of work our new house needs though and it's far from a dream but getting our own place is a major step into carving out the rest of our lives.

Our roots are down and we now have the task of turning our humble new home into something a little more impressive. It needs a couple of extensions, alfresco area, decking and a pool. But I want it now. I sit trying to make do with what's around me but deep down, I'm craving the end result that's about two years away.

For the past month, I've been picking up pieces of paper and all manner of used envelopes that show all sorts of scribblings. I daren't throw them out or tidy them away for these are the pictorial brainstorming sessions husband has when there's a new project in the pipeline.

I really thought my skip-filling-shovel-loading days were over but here we go again... I'm on on the 'barra and off for regular tip trips, putting my French manicure in jeopardy with each and every load.

So, with every two steps forward, we're anticipating going one back but it's just a matter of time until we have the house of our dreams while we continue to live it.

One good turn...

MOVING out of the rental last weekend was a job in itself. Throughout the course of the week leading upto it, we'd had countless offers of help but not wanting to put anyone out, we said we'd be right...

And I thought we would be, what with me having most of the week to fill boxes, take them round to the new gaff, unload them, go back, fill some more, empty some more, fill some more... But as the week progressed, I was becoming increasingly despondent at the job ahead, that of cleaning the rental within an inch of its life in order to get the near on $2,000 bond back.

The oven had to be cleaned, so did the floors, the walls and inside the cupboards. Not forgetting the grout in the showers, the weeds in the garden and the bird muck off the windows. I set out with good intentions of a job well done but after hearing the horror stories of the hundreds who don't get back their bond due to a streaky window pane, I was losing hope ... and fast.

There's nothing worse than spending three full days cleaning a house that you're not going to live in. I couldn't even sit back and sniff the cleanliness that the eucalyptus oil had provided because I was back 'home' and the thought of cleaning that one simply filled me with dread.

So, we completed the mighty task on schedule and to say thanks to a handful of friends, I repaid their favour by helping out at their cancer charity stall in one of the local shopping malls. Our position was just outside a supermarket where the hordes of human traffic got their hands in their handbags to give and I noticed one little girl in particular eyeing up our charity merchandise.

She came over with two hands full of coins and her mum. For her 12 bucks pocket money, she didn't want the latest doll or trading card game. She wanted to buy a pink teddy and a pen and I wanted to put her on a fundraising pedestal and show her off as an example of how beautiful and considerate children can be.

It was also heartwarming for me to hear that the instigator of this fundraising achievement was the 12 year old daughter of one of my friends. She decided to apply online for a stall and help raise money in the fight for breast cancer, together with her close friend from school. On the day, they exceeded their $1,000 target and continue to add to the total, pushing up any expectations of each and every one of us.

These youngsters are our fundraising future and I find, for them to be so heartwarmingly giving in their fledgling years, inspiring in itself. Well done girls. Long may it continue.