I'VE been upto my old tricks again this week. With a paintbrush and 10-litre pot of colour.
Husband has, of late, been battling with the north-facing sun with the installation of an alfresco area. The decking took an absolute age and a day to put down.
With three and a half thousand nails to keep it together, it provides the platform for what will be our new entertainment zone.
What I really need to be happening though, is the fast and furious growth of our boundary bushes. Our plot runs paralled to a main road and a bus stop so there's no shortage of Peeping Toms who feel the need to stick their head over the fence and have a sneaky peak at our work in progress.
It puts me off getting a pool just now, I'd rather plough any disposable cash into getting the one hundred and one smaller jobs done and that includes the addition of a fourth bedroom. We have nowhere for guests to stay over at the moment so the sooner this happens, the better.
So, I've spent my day off up a ladder trying to apply colour in the midday sun. I've done my fair share of painting and am no stranger to the world of decorating but never before have I had to work with paint like this.
After an hour, it's consistency resembles custard - complete with skin - and leaving the job for just a five minute break results in the brush drying out so much that painting with a stick would've produced better results...
I've painted in all sorts of extreme weather conditions. Trying to get the job done on days off in the UK, I've painted in the cold, the wind, the sun and sometimes the rain. I remember trying to get our front door coloured up one wintry afternoon kitted out in ski-type gear and gloves, having to go inside every fifteen minutes to thaw out. I think the paint was tacky for three days, but at least the job was done in the time alloted!
As the completion of phase one home improvement gets under our belt, it will surely spur us on to get going with the rest. That's if we can - temporarily - pull ourselves away from the busy social life we have.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Aussie band in deep water
THIS week, I read a piece in our local newspaper, funnily enough - The Leader - about a legal wrangle going on round these parts.
It seems the 1981 number one hit for Aussie band, Men at Work, has landed itself in a right bucketful of hot water over a publishing rights pickle.
More than 20 years after hitting the right note on the international hit parade, it has come to light that the catchy flute ditty used in the song actually comes from Marion Sinclair's original song - Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree - that made its debut at the world Scout Jamboree held in Frankston, just a stone's throw up the road from us here, back in 1935. Even Lord Baden Powell himself was there to witness the song's showcase.
For such a high profile song that was also performed during the closing ceremony to the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney alongside Paul Hogan of Croc Dundee fame and then at the Australia Unites Victorian Bushfire Appeal Telethon, I'm just wondering where the federal court has been until now - some two decades on - before lodging their disdain at the band's attempt at plagiarism...
It seems the 1981 number one hit for Aussie band, Men at Work, has landed itself in a right bucketful of hot water over a publishing rights pickle.
More than 20 years after hitting the right note on the international hit parade, it has come to light that the catchy flute ditty used in the song actually comes from Marion Sinclair's original song - Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree - that made its debut at the world Scout Jamboree held in Frankston, just a stone's throw up the road from us here, back in 1935. Even Lord Baden Powell himself was there to witness the song's showcase.
For such a high profile song that was also performed during the closing ceremony to the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney alongside Paul Hogan of Croc Dundee fame and then at the Australia Unites Victorian Bushfire Appeal Telethon, I'm just wondering where the federal court has been until now - some two decades on - before lodging their disdain at the band's attempt at plagiarism...
To bathe, or not to bathe
DURING the summer months, the message sent out by authorities and police departments is clear - don't drink and drive.
But these days, I'm hearing a different message and fitting for the area in which we now live - don't drink and dive.
The amount of beach and pool related deaths is astounding. The sun shines and the thermometers are fit for busting so it's no surprise we all feel the need to delve into the fridge for a tinny or two and cool off in the water.
Statistics have shown that over a six year period, there were 1,551 non-boating accidental drownings in Australia. Of these, 77 per cent were males and 23 were females. The presence of drugs, including alcohol, was recorded in 148 of the 1,096 that were over the age of 14.
Private swimming pools accounted for 17 per cent of all drownings. 64 per cent were toddlers, 66 per cent of which were male. A significant feature in this group is that of all private pool drownings over the age of 34 years, 63 per cent were female.
That final figure surprised me. The highest number of statistical pool related deaths are of women with more than thirty years under their belt. Old enough to know better, or not, it just goes to show that when your number's up, your number's up...
But these days, I'm hearing a different message and fitting for the area in which we now live - don't drink and dive.
The amount of beach and pool related deaths is astounding. The sun shines and the thermometers are fit for busting so it's no surprise we all feel the need to delve into the fridge for a tinny or two and cool off in the water.
Statistics have shown that over a six year period, there were 1,551 non-boating accidental drownings in Australia. Of these, 77 per cent were males and 23 were females. The presence of drugs, including alcohol, was recorded in 148 of the 1,096 that were over the age of 14.
Private swimming pools accounted for 17 per cent of all drownings. 64 per cent were toddlers, 66 per cent of which were male. A significant feature in this group is that of all private pool drownings over the age of 34 years, 63 per cent were female.
That final figure surprised me. The highest number of statistical pool related deaths are of women with more than thirty years under their belt. Old enough to know better, or not, it just goes to show that when your number's up, your number's up...
Thursday, 11 February 2010
Water, water everywhere. Well, not actually...
THIS week, I've made a promise to myself. To have a weekend with no social gatherings, parties or booze.
Now although I may falter on the latter, the former two are - hopefully - easily achievable targets.
Since Christmas, and even before that, we've had dates marked on the calendar for get togethers and the like. It's a very social sort of country, this Australia place, but while we're out mingling, all the domesticities that come with running a household are put on the back barbecue burner.
My liver is not a particular fan of the fact that we've decided to settle in the heart of the winery region nor is our bank balance. We have a grog warehouse just down the road and a winery on every corner and it's all too easy to while away the evening in the hammock sipping on a chilled Chardy each night.
But it's not getting any work done round here. We've fallen that far behind with the chores that we've hired a gardener. Given the choice of domestic help, I'd have opted for a cleaner but seeing as though the garden is bigger than the house that stands on it, a man with the mower it was.
So every other week, our man rocks up to kill the weeds, sculpt the "Neighbour-Be-Gone" trees and trim the grass, if you can call it that. The heat from the past month or two has frazzled any sort of green stuff we had in the back yard and now, it's just a tatty parcel of land that's crying out to be filled by the installation of a pool.
We'll probably get the necessary planning permission just in time for winter so our timing isn't all that great, but I'm banking on bagging a bargain in the hope that there's a winter sale on all things wet and summery.
We've never bought a pool before and I'm not sure whether to go for a kidney, Roman, lap or Tahitan variety. And when it's in, there lies the problem of filling it. Never before have we had to watch our water so much. Having been slapped with a Grade 3a water restriction this summer means that an excessive amount of water usage has to be declared. And it's not just a case of filling it with a crafty go on the hosepipe either.
For around $3,000, a tanker delivers the liquid gold and in some cases, more than one is needed, depending on the size of pool it has to fill so I'm not looking forward to THAT bill.
But for now, we're taking advantage of the free pool just down the road ... it's as big as you want it to be and it's great to take a dip when the heat of the day has subsided. It's called the Port Phillip Bay and we love it!
Now although I may falter on the latter, the former two are - hopefully - easily achievable targets.
Since Christmas, and even before that, we've had dates marked on the calendar for get togethers and the like. It's a very social sort of country, this Australia place, but while we're out mingling, all the domesticities that come with running a household are put on the back barbecue burner.
My liver is not a particular fan of the fact that we've decided to settle in the heart of the winery region nor is our bank balance. We have a grog warehouse just down the road and a winery on every corner and it's all too easy to while away the evening in the hammock sipping on a chilled Chardy each night.
But it's not getting any work done round here. We've fallen that far behind with the chores that we've hired a gardener. Given the choice of domestic help, I'd have opted for a cleaner but seeing as though the garden is bigger than the house that stands on it, a man with the mower it was.
So every other week, our man rocks up to kill the weeds, sculpt the "Neighbour-Be-Gone" trees and trim the grass, if you can call it that. The heat from the past month or two has frazzled any sort of green stuff we had in the back yard and now, it's just a tatty parcel of land that's crying out to be filled by the installation of a pool.
We'll probably get the necessary planning permission just in time for winter so our timing isn't all that great, but I'm banking on bagging a bargain in the hope that there's a winter sale on all things wet and summery.
We've never bought a pool before and I'm not sure whether to go for a kidney, Roman, lap or Tahitan variety. And when it's in, there lies the problem of filling it. Never before have we had to watch our water so much. Having been slapped with a Grade 3a water restriction this summer means that an excessive amount of water usage has to be declared. And it's not just a case of filling it with a crafty go on the hosepipe either.
For around $3,000, a tanker delivers the liquid gold and in some cases, more than one is needed, depending on the size of pool it has to fill so I'm not looking forward to THAT bill.
But for now, we're taking advantage of the free pool just down the road ... it's as big as you want it to be and it's great to take a dip when the heat of the day has subsided. It's called the Port Phillip Bay and we love it!
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