Well what a bloody month. Let’s get the biggest and least pleasant news out of the way first.

Lee-Anne has been doing two jobs, one at her normal place of work, and one in the legislative assembly, covering for someone who was on leave. This has meant many late nights. On one such night I was at work, and got a phone call from Lee-Anne; “I’ve been assaulted”. I told my colleague, Steve, that I was off home and to cover my arse for me. I drove home like the proverbial lunatic. (Fortunately this was a weekend when Bethy was at her fathers.) I got in to find Lee-Anne visibly upset. She had a scratch on her forehead and wrist, a lump on her head, and a developing black eye, a sore neck and a bruised jaw. She was rather brave about it all.

What happened was this. It was a normal Friday night in Canberra city centre. Lee-Anne missed her 7.00 pm bus, and decided to grab a burger while waiting for the next bus, to save her cooking at home. She was sat at the bus station eating and waiting, when she was approached by a pissed or drugged up Abo woman who stood over her and demanded; “Where you from?’”

“Canberra” replies Lee-Anne.

“No you’re bloody not.”

So the pissed Abo retreats a bit, and is talking to a bunch of others a way up the street. Lee-Anne can hear her yelling; “You’re fucking English!!” “The English killed my daughter!!” and other pissed babble. Lee-Anne was not looking over to where she was, so as to avoid eye contact and provoking things further. So she didn’t see the woman return until she was being belted by her.

Luckily some passer by guy stepped in, pulled the Abo off, and called the cops. For which he has my undying gratitude. The cops were just around the corner, and soon arrived and bundled the Abo into the paddy wagon. They asked Lee-Anne if she wanted medical assistance, which she declined, and then left her to catch a bus home.

They didn’t even ask her name and address.

Lee-Anne was obviously very shocked. I was also very disappointed. I often work  with the cops here, at least once a month, normally in situations where I have to take someone into hospital against their will, sometimes when they are violent. I have always had a great deal out of the Aussie cops, and felt they had let Lee-Anne downbadly, which was a pity. So I got straight on the blower. The desk cop said he’d send someone around to talk to us.

Lee-Anne was a bit pissed at me for doing it, as she was hoping to let it all go.

The cops turned up and were very polite and very apologetic, and told us a few things, confidentially, about the woman involved. They let us know that she was banged up, had multiple charges against her already, and that she was hopefully going to be sent back up to her tribal lands where she would be dealt with by the courts there. As they were leaving they asked Lee-Anne to sign a waiver against taking the issue further. This was more to cover their own arses we later decided.

So we had a quiet night in.

The next morning Lee-Anne woke up, and said to me; “Fuck it, I feel sore and like shit, I want her done.”

That’s more like it! That’s the woman I love and married!!

So she got in touch with the cops, and that evening found us in the cop shop with Lee-Anne giving a full statement. This took nearly two hours.

We’ll see what comes of it.

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Now onto other things.

The weekend following that incident I had planned to do a long run on the bike, down to the coast, and to go whale watching. I had a “three days in a row” stretch off, as there was a public holiday, which for a fucking change I had off, and this was conveniently followed by my normal days off. So I booked the bike in for a service, went to a new place “Bruce’s”. (Good Aussie name that!)

So by neat slight of hand they turned a $250 service into a $500; ‘we’re not letting this bike out without new tyre on the front, and your air-filter is knackered” event. Ok, I knew the tyre was due to be replaced, as it was only by getting a new rear one fitted I was able to get it out from the last service. So Bruce, the man himself, says to me; “Do you do many K on it?”

I let him know I use it most days for work, and was planning a trip to the coast in three days time on it. He sucked his gums, and whistled a bit; “Well, it’ll probably get you down to the coast and back again. But your cam chains are nearly ruined, and if they jump the guides them they’ll take out most of the heads. So ride gently and keep an ear open for any nasty noises from them.”

Me? Keep an ear open? That’s a bloody joke. Anyway the upshot of this is that its going to cost me a grand for the cam chains IF I get it done before they break and whip the engine to death.

Following Lee-Anne’s attack, I dropped the idea of going down to the coast, and stayed at home with her. I’m still planning on going down the coast, next weekend. I’ll keep a ear open then, shall I?

Oh the bloody car went in for a service the day before the bike, they gave me the happy news that I need new shocks all round. So that’s another grand sailing out the window.

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Happier news now.

Lee-Anne had a birthday last month, she’s now **. The mother in law took us out for a meal at “Grazing” at Gundaroo. Pretty impressed, a few small niggles, but otherwise a positive impression.

Here’s my review of it, just call me Gordon.

The good.

The food was innovative, delicious, well presented, and interesting. I would have settled for a smaller entre and a bigger main, or at least a main with more side dishes as standard not extras. Service was not overly fast, but not slow to the point of being a drag, and it goes as read that a good meal should allow for conversation and digestion between courses. We all had the wines recommended for each dish, and were suitably impressed. Cost was what I would expect to pay for a meal of that quality, neither cheap nor expensive. Décor was pleasant, though the art works on view were not to my taste, being modern, but at least they were unobtrusive. (Forgive me if I do not rhapsodise about the age of the building, my house in the UK is older.)

The niggles.

We were sat in, as were three other tables, what can only be described as a corridor. As we were eating early this meant that we were constantly interrupted by passing arrivals and wait staff. (If we had booked earlier I’m sure we would have had a better table and this then would not have been a problem) When I have the recommended wine for a meal, I like the wine to arrive before, or with, the course, not half way through it. The wine recommended for my main should have been a bit more full bodied.

Still, all told, a good and very enjoyable dining experience, one I would not hesitate to recommend and will definitely go to again.

7/10 (addressing my niggles would put it up to a solid 8.5/10)

There you go. For one of her birthday presents I got Lee-Anne “The Fat Duck Cookbook,” as we’re all big fans of Heston Blumenthal. Lee-Anne and Bethy are planning on eating at the “Fat Duck” next time we’re in the UK, I’m stuffed as he doesn’t do vege grub 🙁

I bought her that book as it contains his autobiography, and Lee-Anne’s a big fan of biographic writtings.

It’s a lovely book, but the recipes…

Well lets put it like this, when one calls for you to “Put out 60, 6” diameter, petri dishes, cooled.” Or you have an ingredients list which includes “liquid nitrogen,” or “a whole free range boars head”, or when the recipes include instructions for such delights as “snail porrige” and “bacon and egg icecream”, then you know it’s not going to be something you knock up with any ease  in our little kitchen at  Henry Street.

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One day, just before the school holidays, Bethy approached me and said; “My friend Linna is going to China and Japan with her parents (they are a Chinese family) for a month. She’s forgotten to arrange for someone to look after her cockatiels for the time she’s away.” I was just about to give all the reasons why we would not be having them at our place, up to and including “Cos I say so,” when Bethy delivered the knock out punch; “And mum says yes.”

So we’re now hosts to “Einstein” and “Butters”, two noisy little shitbags who have changed my reasons for not wanting caged birds around, from “general animal welfare concerns”, and a ” hatred of caged animals”, to “because they never shut the fuck up and could do with throttling.”

Millie has been fascinated by them, and will happily spend all day looking up at the cages, drooling softly.

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Ok, one night I got a phone call from Lee-Anne (this was when she was doing her two jobs) “I’ve got out early so I should be home at a reasonable time for a change”. Excellent. So I got our tea going at an earlier time, one  which meant it wasn’t going to turn  into supper, as had been the norm of late. And waited.

And waited.

Lee-Anne arrives home at much the same time as she would have if she hadn’t got off early, rather disschuffed looking. After a glass of wine, I got the story, the short version of which is this.

When you’re hurrying for a bus, and you’re already tired and pissed off, a bus with the number 710 on the front, looks very much like the bus with the number 70 on it. Except the 70 goes to our suburb, and the 710 goes across town in the wrong direction. So there was Lee-Anne, wondering why she was going the wrong way, and should she tell the driver. Subsequent to this  she found she had another thirty minute wait, at the wrong depot, for a bus to our suburb. Ouch.

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Bethy’s basketball team, Belconnnen Ramblers , made it all the way through to the season finals playoff, but unfortunately didn’t make it to the final two teams. However she’s played her bloody heart out this season.

This has been recognised inasmuch as she’s had a trial for, and got into a, Under 19’s basketball side for next season. Yep, at 15 yrs old she’s going to be playing with the big girls.

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Talking about sporting events, me and Lee-Anne have tickets for England vs. Australia, in the Ashes series. It’s at the Adelaide ground, the most beautiful cricket ground in the world. Seeing as it’s  being held up there,  1160 kilometres away, (1/4  the width of Aus!) we’re taking a week off, flying up,  and making a holiday of it.

We’ve also got tickets for the “Prime Minister’s XI vs. England”, at the local Manuka stadium. The sale of tickets for this was delayed due to the problems picking a Prime Minister, we went for the Welsh “ranga” in the end. People were complaining that if a PM was not chosen soon, the PM’s XI match may have to be canceled. It seemed to get them moving, and she was opted in on the expectation that she’d name the team within a week.

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Me and Bethy went to Floriade on one of my days off. It was ok, the flowers and stalls, and exhibitions, and what have you are beginning to be a bit samey seeing them year in year out. But it’s free, and a day out, so we went. However, I was taken really ill there, Really, really ill, as only a man can. Totally; “sit on the floor, head between legs, feeling like I’m going to die” ill.

Bethy helped me up, and was insisting I go to the first aid tent. But a good crap in the (fortunately clean) public toilets made me feel a lot better, and I struggled on manfully.

Bethy thinks it was due to me trying the Chilli factory’s hottest blend,  “Devil Deliruium, Naga Jokia Paste” which was on their stall, and could not be ignored. Not by this imbecile anyway. Most of the chutneys were rated 6 or 7 or even 9 out of 10 in heat/strength. The stuff I wolfed down a few crackers full of  was rated 14/10. No, I didn’t buy a jar.

But, that can’t have been what made me ill, I’ve eaten far hotter stuff than that, it must have been leprosy or a heart attack or something really bad. I was at deaths’ door I tell you. I didn’t knock though.

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Bethy’s “Formal” (prom night/end of school dance) is coming up in December. Christ on a bike, it seems like only yesterday she was starting high school. She also is entitled to apply for a driving license soon, and has been taking road ready classes.

Bethy was so concerned that she would still have her braces in for her formal night, that she’s been offering to pay to have them taken out, just for the night and to pay to have them replaced the next day. The dentist has relented under the pressure and at least upped her tensioning elastics. She’s now wearing two sets of elastics day and night. Poor sod, it must be agony. Fingers crossed for her eh?

She’s also been out shopping for a “Formal evening dress”, which has so knackered Lee-Anne out that she’s now two inches shorter. However a dress has been found, a beautiful one by all accounts which makes Bethy look like Katy Perry , (whomever that may be.) Apparently it shows off her cleavage and curves to maximum effect. Me and Glenn are stocking up on nailed baseball bats.  I’ve not seen it yet, but rest assured you’ll get photos of it around the time of the big event (Dec 6^th.)

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We had a real weird weather phenomena recently, one so unusual it made me homesick. We had a whole week of rain. A whole week! The land has been drenched and our reservoirs are so full (78.9%) they are thinking of lifting the ban on washing your car.

Mother of god!! I went for nearly a fortnight without riding the bike to work. In the gallery you’ll see images of what happens around here when we have good rain. The whole place turns green, not brown, and the roads in parts of Canberra can be flooded out.

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Let us finish on a note of great joy (does anyone read this far?). Lee-Anne has been taking “Champix” for four weeks now, and has not smoked a cigarette in all that time. We have great hopes that she may have cracked her tobacco addiction. I’m so proud and pleased for her.