Bitch & Moan

I think I know how bears waking up from hibernation feel. It's such a beautiful morning, and looking outside I spy flushes of green all over the paddock beyond the yard fence. We need a hell of a lot more rain, but it's truly amazing how much the country responds to even an inch. As for the hibernation... I've had the mother of a migraine the last three days, which coincided beautifully with hubby being away learning to fly gyrocopters. Note the sarcasm. Two children + home alone with them + migraine = very very bad. But today I woke up to find it gone... yes!!

See the green? Out past what will one day once again be a tennis court? Lovely.

Needless to say, not a lot has happened around here. I had grand plans to start painting the kitchen ceiling and walls... didn't quite get there. Thought I'd cook and freeze a few meals so we could have "take away" night once in a while...didn't happen. Well, there's always tomorrow.

Now, I didn't ever intend this to be a "bitch and moan" blog. But really, I have to say... what's with customer service (or the lack thereof) in some places these days? Mind you, there are places where it's great... IGA at the Ridge comes to mind - there are some lovely ladies there who will cart your trolley out to the car when you've got a baby to juggle as well, and they'll even do your shopping for you if you fax through an order, at no extra charge. You've gotta love that. But boo to the place at the Ridge whose employee felt that he couldn't help me load a piece of furniture into the back of the car, as he was alone in the shop. The shop was empty, the car was in the shop's yard not 15 metres away. It was a piece of furniture, a bit bigger than the size of 2 large bedside tables together, and as I struggled to get it into the car myself, I fell into a hole in their driveway, dropped it, fell on top of it, bruised and cut my leg, and in the end, thankfully, a man who happened to be driving a truck past when it happened pulled over and came in to help me. I couldn't believe that the worker couldn't be bothered to get off his butt and help, though I shouldn't be surprised. The same man watched me carry great big tins of paint out to the car when I was 8 months pregnant. As a result, I won't feel at all guilty shopping at Bunnings instead of locally for certain things.