So there we were, Xmas and New years had come and gone, as had my birthday, (thanks for…) and we were feeling like we were rattling about like two peas in a can. The old place was so empty without Bethy and Brandon, and we had so much spare room, spare room which still needed cleaning, it wasn’t funny.

So we started house hunting. Canberra has something of a housing glut at the moment, and new housing, (mainly apartments,) are being thrown up, almost literally, all over the place. So we had plenty of choice. Trouble is we had very different ideas of what sort of place we wanted. My ideal place, basically, could be summed up in one word; “Cheap.”

The first place we were interested in, the silly cow leasing it put up so many obstacles to our viewing it, including, “I’ll be having an open house from 12.10 to 12.25 on Thursday next week, if you miss that timeframe you won’t get to see it,” that we just didn’t bother going to the viewing, (though we said we would, we’re just fucking evil like that.)

The next two places we viewed nearly ended in divorce.

The first one was a real shithole, definitely in need of some TLC. It had broken tiles in the bathroom, dirty stained walls, and hadn’t been decorated since the seventies. Top top that, when we asked the estate agent, they stated that the owner had “expressed no intent on redecorating.” It was what estate agents call a “do-er uppers dream.” If you have any idea how good I am at DIY you may also have had some reservation about us renting the place. Lee-Anne had lots. At the house viewing we were confronted by another potential renter who had a huge, and very badly done, tattoo of a diamond on the top of his neck, and who seemed to have only just learned to walk upright. His hugely pregnant ..partner.. was chain smoking. All the other potential renters seemed to have escaped from a zoo.

But it was CHEAP I tell you.

The next place was far more attractive. And far more expensive. It was a split-level, four bedroom house in a more distant suburb. The place certainly had its merits, but as we were already paying a bloody fortune to live in a four bed house, what would be the point of  swapping it for another?

Both houses had wood-burners, something that would be very nice in winter here as it gets bloody parky. Lee-Anne liked this second place lots. So, inevitably, we started arguing the merits of each place. This, of course, eventually escalated, as we’re both stubborn, strong willed, thick and loud. This reached stupid proportions, and strong words were said. Just when knives were being drawn we both realised that, unless we both really liked a place, it was stupid contemplating any house, as we’d only fall out again. After that we cooled off.

Then we saw Ivan’s place, and both fell in love with it. This was a small, two bed, split level, recently redecorated and refitted, house in the same suburb as we were already in.
We went to the open day and met Ivan the owner, he was a funny little Slavic chap. We buttered him up. The next day, which was also an open day all day, (that’s how to get clients in Mrs “open house from 12.10 to 12.25 on Thursday next week”,) Lee-Anne went around taking her secret weapon with her. No, not that, you disgusting little man.

She took her mother.

Ivan was duly impressed by Lee-Anne’s keenness, and Mary’s lunacy, and told her; “You’re top of the list.”

The next day Lee-Anne phoned him, only to be told that we hadn’t got it. He wouldn’t tell us why not, but we presumed his Mrs had the final say, and she didn’t want nasty smelly dogs in their redecorated house. Lee-Anne then asked if hed reconsid offered to pay an increased amount of rent; “Why didn’t you offer that at the inspection?” was Ivan’s anguished reply.

So, back to the drawing board.

Then we found another, a three bed place in our suburb, really nicely laid out, cheaper, and, well, ideal. So we put in for it. And got it.

When I say “put in for it”, oh how easy and carefree that sounds! Forms? The department of administrative affairs runs on less paperwork than we had to complete. Honestly I had to complete more paper work than I did when I was applying for my Aussie citizenship. I had to get my manager and my mates to provide references, this involved a lot of threats, bribes and grovelling. I needed to give my jobs since leaving school, I’ve had dozens. Just to make it all the more painful, the fucking online form didn’t accept UK addresses. Though it only told you this when you had completed the whole “War and Peace” length shebang, then it kicked you back to the front page to start again.

We handed our notice in to Henry street, then our landlord, Vinod, hit us with a $grands worth of water charges. Bills he’d “forgot to pass on”, but he added a sweetener.

Thus;

Please find below water consumption charges due for 14 Henry. I should have been sending this to you quarterly but I got lazy and complacent. My apologies. Please feel free to pay by instalments as your fund permits. Also attached is an excel file with water charges due in a more user-friendly format. The total amount due is $1,034. Also attached are all the invoices.

I was wondering if you would consider staying on at 14 Henry if a lower rent could be negotiated. What would be the rent that you would be willing to pay to stay on at 14 Henry. I can understand that you are looking for a smaller place and that 14 Henry may not be suitable for you any more.

Regards
Vinod

 We didn’t want to stay there though, not even at reduced rent.

So, new house, time to move.

Lee-Anne went and got the keys to the new place a week early, so we could start moving in. We spent a week shifting boxes of non-essentials over in our poor bloody car, (we’re going to need a new car soon too.)

Isn’t it amazing how much shite you can build up over the course of 12 years? One sticking point came when we had to sort out the somewhere in the region of 1000 books we had collected. We started going through them, sorting them into two piles, ones to keep ones to donate to the Salvos. It didn’t take long to realise that we had 500 books in the “keep” pile, and 4 in the “Salvos” pile. We boxed them all, and shifted them over to the new place.

Following this capitulation to the inevitable, Lee-Anne decided we needed to buy new bookshelves. Who am I to argue? Luckily she found some (big,) well made, bookshelves, on sale from a Stationer, who was shutting down, at only $50.00 each. We bought four of them.  Then he told us we’d have to have them off the premises by 4.30 pm that day, as after that time he’d be shut for good, and we’d lose them.

All this happened on the Saturday of the weekend I’d booked off, and also had a day’s “personal leave” booked for moving. Via the net  we hired a 3 tonne truck for a day.

Well when I say “a day” we got a deal, we had the truck from 4.30 pm Saturday, and didn’t need to return it until 7.30 am Monday morning, all for the bargain price of $150.00. (As perspective, another place quoted us $340.00 noon Saturday to noon Sunday.)

The guys at the hire place were dead good, the let us have the truck two hours early, which meant we could bomb down to Fyshwick (home to Canberra’s famous sex shops and brothels,) to pick up the new book cases, getting there just in bloody time too. Seeing as we were in the area we stopped off at a second-hand/junk  shop we know and love to buy a really tasty new (second hand,) wine rack. Then we raced home to move a van load of stuff.

Yes, just one load, as we were seeing Eddie Izzard that night. Bloody typical, the only weekend I could get time off just happened to be the same weekend we had tickets to a play on the Thursday, and Eddie bloody Izzard on the Saturday.

Both were well worth seeing fortunately..

As I said, the play was a stage version of a classic Aussie sit-com, one of the few Aussie sit-coms I really love, “Mother and Son”.

(Though it finished showing in 1994, I’ve caught repeats of it, loved it, and so have now ordered the 6 DVD complete set from the local library.) A very interesting concept, the mother is controlling, selfish and quite nasty, the son is pleasant and a bit soft. It was very well done, but the mother character was softened a bit. The “famous in Aus” actress Noeline Brown could not pull off the happy malice that original mother, played by Ruth Cracknell, portrayed, so she was made more scatterbrained than nasty.

 

But a good night out and an enjoyable play.

Eddie Izzard has a weird comedy style does he not? He sets up scenarios, then acts them out, playing two or more parts, with great use of voices and mannerism. Here’s a clip from the tour we saw;

The mother in law came to see him with us. Brandon couldn’t make it to the gig, as his mum was having her birthday celebration that night, so we gave (sold,) her his ticket. Mary just “didn’t get” Eddie’s humour. Ah well, can’t please them all.

Mary’s been seeing a number of things with us of late; plays, comedy, cricket, and thus we have been regularly exposed to one of her many bloody annoying habits. About a week out from the event she will start her routine; “What day is it on, and how much do I owe you for the tickets?” becomes something of a mantra for her. After hearing it four times a day, it soon begins to grate.

Following Eddie Izzard’s gig with house moving wasn’t that great. But in one day we had we moved everything large and heavy, just about. Bethy , Brandon, and their mate Henry were great help. No honestly, they were, I’m not taking the piss. We couldn’t have done it without them. They worked hard enough to earn a bottle of Gin, (Bethy’s finally developed a taste for alcohol, or at least G&T,) and bottle of Vodka with gold in it, and a meal on us.

Their mate, Nicholai, who is a strapping Russian lad, was going to come over and give me a hand with the heavier stuff, (and earn himself some Vodka.) But, on that very morning, Brandon got a text from him which read; “Got pissed out of my brains last night, and didn’t get to bed until 5.30 this morning. May be available later this afternoon.”

Lugging out of the house, then into a van, then out of the van ,and into a house, a houseful of furniture and personal effects, is a LOT harder than the gym, and a fuck of a lot less fun. But it does make me grateful I’ve kept up the gym. Towards the end of this epic move  we realised that we had enough time left, just, to do a tip run with the van.  We loaded it up with stuff we were chucking out, and went to the tip. I will happily admit I shed a tear throwing some of Bethy’s old, once loved, stuffed toys and other childish trinkets onto the tip. Fuck off.

Only when we were at the tip, only then did we realise that if we drove home, picked up the car, and drove back to the Van hire place, (which, inevitably, is located next door to the tip which we were already at,) we could get the van returned, and then we wouldn’t have to wake up at six the next morning to take it back. The journey back home wasn’t much fun as I kept being hit and yelled at, but once I dropped Lee-Anne off I had carte blanche to push it. We were certain that the place closed at 4.30 pm, and so I had 15 minutes to get it back before they shut.

On the way back I got 125 kmph out of that van, (in a 90 kmph area,) boy do they drift at high speed..

But when we got there, we found  out they were open until 5.30pm. I wasn’t complaining, and no speeding tickets have arrived, (yet.)

As a consequence of that day’s, nay week’s,  exertions I was so bloody knackered, that, discussing where things should be located in the new place, I referred to something needing to be; “put in the shed in the cupboard”, I regretted it instantly. “What? What fucking “shed in the cupboard!?!?” What are you on about you dozy cock?” politely enquired Lee-Anne. I sheepishly admitted that by “the shed in the cupboard” I was actually referring to what is more commonly known as “the garage”. It had been a hard day.

I was so fuckered that night that a bottle of good cider had me out for the count at 9.30pm.

Oh, talking of booze, I’m about to make the Welsh boys weep. I was in our local shop, (it’s  still our local shop, which is nice,) on a booze run, when I noticed “Nice Man Nick”, our favourite shopkeeper, had got a range of International beers in. Goody, must try them! But, sat in amongst them were bottles of Brains SA. “Brains Shite Attack” as it is colloquially known, (for good reason.) I bought a few bottles of it, and, later that evening, when it had achieved room temperature, I supped on a couple. Then I thought; “This bottle is very nice, relative to Aussie beers that is, but is it really worth $11.50?” ( roughly £5.50!)

Yes, there I was, drinking Shite Attack, at a fiver for a half. I damn near cried

Which reminds me of a tale I missed from last month’s episode.

I was down “Nice Man Nick’s” shop with young Tom, when we happened upon my (now ex) neighbour Pat “the Bottler”. I introduced them, and, during a chat, Pat asked Tom what he did; “Oh I’m going to be a copper when I get back to England”, said Tom. “There’s a cafe just for your lot up the road here, come with me I’ll show you.”

It was only as Pat led Tom off, that I remembered that the local cafe is called “The Little Oik cafe.” Tom saw the funny side, fortunately.

Oh, yet another, bit of harsh reality. I phoned Lee-Anne up from work the other day, with the sad news; “That’s it for me, I think I’ll go kill myself.” Naturally concerned, she asked what had brought me to this low point, then she had a revelation. “It’s that dish washer tablet offer I forwarded to you isn’t it?” I had to agree it was. “As soon as I pressed the send button, I realised how sad I was to get excited by it. It’s all over for us isn’t it, we’re officially old.”

We had a damn good chuckle about that, that is after admitting that life is pretty fucking sad when you get all cheerful over “Save 30% on your next 5 dishwasher tablet purchases” offers.

So we’ve moved in, and we’re very happy. The dogs have settled well, and now feel themselves owners of a new property. There’s a massive avenue of eucalyptus trees behind the house, which the dogs now consider their territory, which is a shame as so do the local roo mob, and several bikers and ramblers.

Here’s a brief walk-through of the new place.

(Music and vocals by me.)

Things to note;

1. We haven’t got our paintings and photos and posters up yet, so it looks a little drab.
2. The Buddha on top of the new wine rack guards our decanter and blesses our wine.
3. Check out my music studio; two amps, five speakers, one leccy guitar, one midi keyboard, three specialist headphone sets, and enough computer music software to run Abbey Road. I will be brewing up a storm there soon, (thanks Wynn!)
4.Carpets and rugs are in the garden to be cleaned this weekend.
5. Spare bedroom is full of unsorted junk, as is the garage.

As for the old place? We did something very middle class there. We paid someone to clean it for us, just to get our bond back. Lee-Anne found an advert for “Joe” and booked him. I just got an email from her

And Joe reckons there’s a shed load of work to be done at Henry Street. He is certainly right. He even got all the gunk off the dining room window*. Said that bit took him the longest. I like Joe.

🙂

Bethy is still working two jobs, as a dental nurse and a administration clerk, and the house is still empty without her. She starts back at Uni next week.

Brandon, very romantically, whisked the pair of them off to the coast for a dirty weekend on Valentine’s day. This had two benefits; it left their apartment free for Henry to “reconnect” with Vivienne, who was due back that weekend from her two months stay in China. It also just happened to coincide with the weekend we had set aside to clean Henry Street, what a coincidence! (We hadn’t told them about hiring Joe to do the hard graft, we still haven’t. Guilt is a wonderful weapon.)

I’ve bought tickets for three gigs, just to bring some glamour into our lives Remember I was banging on about signing up to classical music websites to get first refusal on gig tickets? Well this month my doing so came up trumps. First of all there were tickets advertised for this lot;

In celebration of our 50th year, the ANU School of Music is proud to present The Sixteen, one of the world’s greatest vocal ensembles. The Sixteen’s concert programme is entitled ‘The Queen of Heaven’ and features a stunning new version of Allegri’s famous Miserere alongside James MacMillan’s own setting of the text and glorious choral music by Palestrina.

The Queen of Heaven
Plainsong Regina caeli
PALESTRINA Kyrie from Missa Regina caeli
ALLEGRI Miserere
MACMILLAN Dominus dabit benignitatem (from The Strathclyde Motets)
PALESTRINA Improperium exspectavit cor meum
MACMILLAN Videns Dominus (from The Strathclyde Motets)
PALESTRINA Stabat Mater a 8
Interval
PALESTRINA Regina caeli a 8
PALESTRINA Vineam meam non custodivi (from Song of Songs)
MACMILLAN O radiant dawn (from The Strathclyde Motets)
PALESTRINA Pulchrae sunt genae tuae (from Song of Songs)
MACMILLAN Miserere
PALESTRINA Agnus Dei I-III from Missa Regina caeli

‘His setting of the Miserere is quite an astounding work, one which I guarantee will have you on the edge of your seat. Immaculately performed… their diction crystal-clear, their intonation faultless.’ (The Guardian) ‘…the MacMillan, his setting of Psalm 51, which harks back to Allegri’s… overwhelmed’ (The Times) ‘The Sixteen’s Palestrina… may just be a classic in the making’ (Gramophone)

And while booking tickets for them, I came across these;

Fagiolini is a British solo-voice ensemble specialising in Renaissance and contemporary music. It has released 19 CDs and 3 DVDs including the world premiere recording of the Striggio 40-part mass which won the Gramophone and Diapason early music awards in 2011.

Program
VICTORIA Alma redemptoris mater
GIBBONS O clap your hands
CROCE Il gioco dell’Occa
MONTEVERDI Selected madrigals
JANEQUIN La Chasse
POULENC Sept chansons
HOWELLS Inheritance
SCHULTZ New Work Commissioned for Musica Viva Australia by Geoff Stearn. World Premiere performances
WILLIAMS Hymn to Awe
VARIOUS Selection: ‘Insalata I Fagiolini’

The only person on this planet I know who shares my passion for early music is Patrick from down in Cornwall, so I dropped him a line as I was, and still am, very excited at the prospect. His reply…

“Both groups are fab. And I know singers in both groups!”

Clever so and so!

I missed two gigs I really wanted to see. Peter Hook (Joy Division/New Order,) is touring his own band playing “The Best of Joy Division”, bastards. I found out too late, and of course he’s not even playing Canberra!

The other gig I’m missing is Judas Priest at the Enmore. Though I’m missing that one out of Hobson’s choice, as it clashes with the South Africa v Ireland Cricket World Cup match I have tickets for. You know you’re getting old when you turn down Judas Priest for a day at the cricket!

As I’m seeing Ireland play, (and didn’t they do amazing against the Windies?) I asked Clarkie to send me something suitably “Oirish, didly-dee, potatoes” to wear.As ever, the man came up trumps, thanks Clarkie!

On the subject of cricket, me and Lee-Anne had a grand day out at the PM’s XI match. Though we were close enough to our rubbish PM to hit him, he’s been having so much of a shite time of late , nearly losing his job, we didn’t have the heart.

One sobering thing about the PM’s match, was looking through the program, and realising that both teams are made up of young kids. One England player is even younger than Bethy FFS!

But the match was an absolute corker!! Over 700 runs scored between the two sides. Ian Bell was England’s star, getting 187 runs, before the idiot got caught out on the penultimate ball of the innings. England got 391 runs for 6 wickets. In reply Glenn Maxwell got 136 for the PM’s, and they were all out for 331. Most impressive for me was Moeen Ali for England, who had a good knock with the bat and bowled very cleverly, (left hand, off break.)

We also saw the Big Bash Final, the biggest cricket event ever to hit the nation’s capital, (which isn’t saying much.) Amazing final, it went down to the last ball, one run needed and Brett Lee on a hat trick, which unfortunately, he didn’t get. The match was 38-year-old Lee’s last in a career that included 76 Tests, 221 one-day internationals and 116 first-class matches. Stunning way for him to end his career, even if he didn’t take the wicket.

My mate Neil, who I’ve got back in touch with of late, really made me envious with this email;

We bought a boat and not a lodge thing in the end, have I told you that before? Its a Dutch Barge moored between Ely and Cambridge. Its 58 by 13 feet size wise, not far off 100 years old and was originally a working boat. It was converted in the 70/80’s and still looks like it inside, so our project is to refit over the next couple of years to bring it into the 21st Century and then we are sorted for when we decide to come back.

Oh man, who doesn’t want to live in a barge on a canal? Pah!!

Ooh, in a bit of culinary treason, we’ve swapped our cooking allegiance from Heston, to Hugh Fernly-Wittingstall. We’ve done this as Hugh makes us feel all “Good Life”, and Heston’s dishes are either too incredibly complex, or too fucking expensive , to cook, (or more usually both.) We’re thinking of booking courses at “River Cottage” next time we’re back in the UK. (That will be from the 3rd. November to the 15th. December 2015!)

Sorry Heston, don’t worry, we still love you.

Remember the “titty-carp-pig-balloon” lunatic type thing which was made for Canberra’s centenary? Now they’ve come up with this video to promote the place;

Oh god, please make it stop!! What a bunch of wank. “Canberra; a city full of self obsessed middle class hipsters. Come and live here and the true emptiness of your inane life will drag you down, just like this music. No matter how much you try to fill your life with empty pursuits and hobbies, the mind crushing ennui of your existence will get you in the end. Canberra; this is what hell is like.”

Oh, BTW whoever came up with this farrago; Melbourne is, yet again; “The world’s most liveable city”.   Canberra didn’t even make the top 20 FFS, truth in advertising? Melbourne should sue.