On the first day of every month I flick into Susan Miller’s site and read my horoscope. http://www.astrologyzone.com/ Recently it has been well off beam. July should have been a good month according to Susan. “As you enter July, you should be feeling fantastic.” Not so. Work-wise I’m feeling anything but fantastic. The disaster that is work seems to creep into the rest of my life.
I loved my full-on Property Management job. Humming along in my car to work in the morning I often felt elated. I was stimulated and challenged.
An office restructure has brought onboard a new person and life has changed. Then, of course, I lost those three properties- see my first blog of April 20th $30,000 is the amount the director believes the company has lost because of that blunder. The outcome of the disaster is still in-waiting as I am still working for the company. The office is no longer a supportive and caring office. We keep secrets and we whisper. The elation is seldom there and the morning ritual has become a chore. Time to move on?
I was on an in-service course one day last week where a high flier told us how she organized her life and work. She has a Life Coach to help her with this but in essence she makes a five-year plan with a goal at the end and steps of what she has to do to get there. Not new thinking but sometimes we have to get a reminder.
My July Horoscope also said
“ No matter when your birthday happens to fall, all Capricorns are about to enter the best of year of their lives in 2008. Your wonder year is actually slated to start in late December 2007. Your mission now should be to decide which people and elements of your current life will belong in your new life to come, as well as which elements and relationships need to be eliminated. If you don't go through this process of editing your life, you won't make any room for new opportunities that are coming your way.”
Both the course and the horoscope are timely if that is correct. I will take the advice and work on a five-year plan. The idea is to start with an end goal and work backwards.
Not so easy. Five years can be a long time when you are think ahead. Of course not so long when we look back and wonder where the time has gone.
All this is saying that it’s time I changed my life and moved on.
Today is the last day of July and in a couple of days I’ll be able to read my August horoscope.
I have a job interview on the 2nd of August. If I got the new job it would it be a step on the way to somewhere – where has yet to be decided. I'm working on my five-year plan in particular the end goal! All these steps need to be going in the same direction.....
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Melbourne has rain!
A wet Friday and TGF (Thank God it’s Friday) whirred in my head as I drove home through the dark and down pour. The rain kept the streets quiet. Usually orthodox Jews fill our streets on Friday evening but this evening they weren’t around. I’m use to seeing their black clad figures in Inkerman Street and missed them.
I like Friday night’s gym instructor but not enough to make it there through the bleak winter evening. Now had it been the Tuesday instructor…
I rang my mother when I got home. She has a skin complaint that has covered her body with something akin to hives. The GP had no idea and after a wait of six weeks she managed to get an appointment with a skin specialist. Her name came to the top of the list this week. I talked to her at the same time the gym class heaved weights around. In our modern world we struggle to prolong our lives but the longer we live the more hurdles we have to jump. The skin complaint is just another for my mother. There are more drugs to take and the chance of side effects and no guarantee that the skin complaint will improve.
Not wanting to go there I turned up the gas heater, poured some red wine, heated some pasta and listened to my favourite opera. I first heard Bellini’s Norma in Vietnam when I worked in Qui Nhon . A colleague loved it and copied his tapes for me. I still have those tapes but now I listen to it on CD. It covered the hiss of the heater and I disappeared into the music and left the world behind.
I often think that we like certain music because there was something special happening in our lives when we hear it for the first time. Yet, Neil Diamond drifted around the paddy fields and shantytowns of central Vietnam at that time and he’s not a favourite in the same way. I didn’t see him when he came to Melbourne but I eagerly booked my ticket for the Australia Opera Company’s production of Norma. So much for a theory!!
When I went to bed I found myself thinking about my mother and the extreme discomfort she’s been in for weeks and why it is that the medical professionals can transplant lungs and hearts but can leave an old lady to struggle with something so distressing.
I like Friday night’s gym instructor but not enough to make it there through the bleak winter evening. Now had it been the Tuesday instructor…
I rang my mother when I got home. She has a skin complaint that has covered her body with something akin to hives. The GP had no idea and after a wait of six weeks she managed to get an appointment with a skin specialist. Her name came to the top of the list this week. I talked to her at the same time the gym class heaved weights around. In our modern world we struggle to prolong our lives but the longer we live the more hurdles we have to jump. The skin complaint is just another for my mother. There are more drugs to take and the chance of side effects and no guarantee that the skin complaint will improve.
Not wanting to go there I turned up the gas heater, poured some red wine, heated some pasta and listened to my favourite opera. I first heard Bellini’s Norma in Vietnam when I worked in Qui Nhon . A colleague loved it and copied his tapes for me. I still have those tapes but now I listen to it on CD. It covered the hiss of the heater and I disappeared into the music and left the world behind.
I often think that we like certain music because there was something special happening in our lives when we hear it for the first time. Yet, Neil Diamond drifted around the paddy fields and shantytowns of central Vietnam at that time and he’s not a favourite in the same way. I didn’t see him when he came to Melbourne but I eagerly booked my ticket for the Australia Opera Company’s production of Norma. So much for a theory!!
When I went to bed I found myself thinking about my mother and the extreme discomfort she’s been in for weeks and why it is that the medical professionals can transplant lungs and hearts but can leave an old lady to struggle with something so distressing.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Weekend Life
A Prahran balcony cat on duty.
On Sundays R and I plan to make the 9.00 Gym class. We both worked this Saturday and I was very pleased when the phone rang at 8.00am. I knew we wouldn’t be going. And don’t say I could’ve gone by myself. R told me the temperature was two degrees and a damp mist hung over my house. The Sunday paper was lying on the path and the gas heater pumped away..........
The newspapers are making the job of Property Management harder. They are full of articles about the tight rental market. According to an article written last week, properties are in such demand, prospective tenants are making offers well above the asking price and people are becoming homeless because they can’t find anywhere to rent
If you had been with me while I did eight opens this weekend you would have written a different story. In the middle where we mainly operate there is no pressure. The cheapest place on my list on Saturday was a large two-bedroom unit in a rather dodgy block for $310.00 per week. There were four groups through it and only one group took applications.
Of the eight properties I opened two didn’t have a single visitor and three only had one.
The problem is to tell the owners that their properties are not getting the interest we would expect and we should consider lowering the rent. They’ve been reading about rising demand and rising rents and lack of available rental properties and think we must be doing something wrong. What's wrong with their property when every other property is racing out the door with half a dozen people chasing it.
I had an unusual experience. I arrived at a three-bedroom unit in a quiet block in a quiet street in Armadale. Three young men were lounging outside waiting for me. I had the usual bunch of keys and as always it is the last key that opens the door. This block shows individuality by having the unit number hidden behind the screen door so it’s only visible when the door is open. I ploughed up the stairs with the boys behind me. We studied the doors.
“Excuse me,” said one in a polite voice. “I think seven is on the ground floor” We ploughed down the stairs. He was right and I went through all the keys again.
They spent a while looking around, then took application forms and headed out. One popped back,
“Excuse me. Are you here for much longer?”
“A few more minutes”
“Would you like us to wait so you’re not on your own? We’re not in a hurry. We could do that.”
I thanked him and said I was fine.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble for us.”
When I did leave he and his mates were on the corner. It occurred to me that I had been in the unit for sometime with just the three of them. Interesting. What is risk? And so much for the hectic rental market.
The sun came out and that’s when the balcony cat watched me with yet another bunch of keys.
The newspapers are making the job of Property Management harder. They are full of articles about the tight rental market. According to an article written last week, properties are in such demand, prospective tenants are making offers well above the asking price and people are becoming homeless because they can’t find anywhere to rent
If you had been with me while I did eight opens this weekend you would have written a different story. In the middle where we mainly operate there is no pressure. The cheapest place on my list on Saturday was a large two-bedroom unit in a rather dodgy block for $310.00 per week. There were four groups through it and only one group took applications.
Of the eight properties I opened two didn’t have a single visitor and three only had one.
The problem is to tell the owners that their properties are not getting the interest we would expect and we should consider lowering the rent. They’ve been reading about rising demand and rising rents and lack of available rental properties and think we must be doing something wrong. What's wrong with their property when every other property is racing out the door with half a dozen people chasing it.
I had an unusual experience. I arrived at a three-bedroom unit in a quiet block in a quiet street in Armadale. Three young men were lounging outside waiting for me. I had the usual bunch of keys and as always it is the last key that opens the door. This block shows individuality by having the unit number hidden behind the screen door so it’s only visible when the door is open. I ploughed up the stairs with the boys behind me. We studied the doors.
“Excuse me,” said one in a polite voice. “I think seven is on the ground floor” We ploughed down the stairs. He was right and I went through all the keys again.
They spent a while looking around, then took application forms and headed out. One popped back,
“Excuse me. Are you here for much longer?”
“A few more minutes”
“Would you like us to wait so you’re not on your own? We’re not in a hurry. We could do that.”
I thanked him and said I was fine.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble for us.”
When I did leave he and his mates were on the corner. It occurred to me that I had been in the unit for sometime with just the three of them. Interesting. What is risk? And so much for the hectic rental market.
The sun came out and that’s when the balcony cat watched me with yet another bunch of keys.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Cat and Cow as One.
I have always liked the idea of a black and white cow skin rug. It’s stylish and elegant and in my mind rather French and I think it’s more sophisticated than a brown and white one.
Those were the thought in my mind as I bought this large beautifully patterned one. S’s welfare was far my thoughts when I laid it on the floor and admired it.
It took S a few weeks to feel really comfortable with it. She walked across it and was sick on it but she didn’t lie on it. I thought the hair might feel odd rubbing on her fur. I was wrong. The evenings are so cold now that I have to have the electric heater on to boost the temperature in the living room. S finds it cold too and now sprawls out on the rug with the heat soaking into her. She and the rug merge so well that I trod on her tail as I walked past. I simply didn’t see her. She yelled and jumped up and went out of the room. It could have been so much worse. My foot could’ve come down on a different part of that thin body.
An evening at home by the heater is no longer relaxing. I’m afraid to move. I have to decide what to do. Take the rug up and store it? Buy a brown and white one to put on top? At the moment I am leaning this way. I need some sort of floor covering and we can’t all be sophisticated and French!
Animal skins appear to be making a comeback in the Armadale antique shops where prize pieces of furniture are displayed with them as backdrops. One shop has a Zebra skin and another an antique chair covered in goat skin. To avoid a horrible outcome a brown and white seems the best solution. There is one brown and white one in Armadale but I’ll buy mine in from a wholesaler in Abbottsford who sells to the public.
Those were the thought in my mind as I bought this large beautifully patterned one. S’s welfare was far my thoughts when I laid it on the floor and admired it.
It took S a few weeks to feel really comfortable with it. She walked across it and was sick on it but she didn’t lie on it. I thought the hair might feel odd rubbing on her fur. I was wrong. The evenings are so cold now that I have to have the electric heater on to boost the temperature in the living room. S finds it cold too and now sprawls out on the rug with the heat soaking into her. She and the rug merge so well that I trod on her tail as I walked past. I simply didn’t see her. She yelled and jumped up and went out of the room. It could have been so much worse. My foot could’ve come down on a different part of that thin body.
An evening at home by the heater is no longer relaxing. I’m afraid to move. I have to decide what to do. Take the rug up and store it? Buy a brown and white one to put on top? At the moment I am leaning this way. I need some sort of floor covering and we can’t all be sophisticated and French!
Animal skins appear to be making a comeback in the Armadale antique shops where prize pieces of furniture are displayed with them as backdrops. One shop has a Zebra skin and another an antique chair covered in goat skin. To avoid a horrible outcome a brown and white seems the best solution. There is one brown and white one in Armadale but I’ll buy mine in from a wholesaler in Abbottsford who sells to the public.
Friday, July 13, 2007
In The Age last weekend Mia Freedman wrote about how hard it can be to break up with your in-laws when your relationship breaks up. The piece was prompted, so she said, by an article where journalists found it strange/unusual/worth comment that Jennifer Aniston still visited with Brad Pitts' mother. It seems that Britain’s “Now” Magazine in particular thought this was odd. Mia Freedman, herself, didn’t think it odd. I’m with Mia Freedman I don’t think it’s odd.
However, I work with young women who would think it was very odd.
These 20 and 30 year olds have a lot of trouble relating to and in some cases even being with their partner’s parents and family. Hair-raising stories are related where the in-laws appear of have done everything in their power to alienate their son’s partner. I hear one side of the story. How the in-laws, on the other side, feel is never revealed to me.
It may be that I am just blessed and I feel blessed when I hear these stories.
My first meeting with son’s girl friend, some years ago, struck the right note for an on-going relationship. This is my view. I haven’t asked her.
It was a hot February night and she and my son called at my place and for some reason, incomprehensible now, We travelled in my car. We went to Cafe Dang on Fitzroy Street, St. Kilda. It would be 15mins at the most from my house. There was a quarter hour park outside the cafe and not another park in sight. We chose a table were we could keep watch on the car. After some time an hour park became free further up the street.
“There’s a better park! You can move into it!” announced my son.
“Someone will get it before I managed to get the car sorted out’” I said.
My son’s girl friend jumped up. “I’ll stand in it and keep people away.” She rushed off.
I retrieved my car and managed to get into the Saturday night Fitzroy Street traffic and crawled forward. My son's girl friend waved would-be parkers away. I positioned myself, cars stopped and I backed into the space. There was a resounding crash. I had backed into the car behind. I put my car into drive and straightened up.
My son stood up at the table as if to braced himself for trouble. I got out and locked the door. We studied the car behind me. Traffic and people surged past. No one took any notice of us. We walked back to our table. “What you need is another wine”said my son’s girlfriend laughing. She was right and as I was a bit shaken and a bit tense I spilt it.
We have remained friends and I believe over the intervening years our friendship has depended. I value her opinion and her views. For me it’s a good friendship. I feel sorry for the girls who have stressful times in company of their in-laws but I feel more sorry for the in-laws. A real joy is missing from their lives.
I think Brad Pitts’ mother is lucky to see Jennifer as a friend she can visit. Of course I have no idea why they visit but I like to think that it’s because over time they have developed a friendship they value.
We have dined at the Café Dang on a couple of other occasions but none have come up to the level of the first dinner where our lives clicked together and we were united over Vietnamese food and a soft merlot.
However, I work with young women who would think it was very odd.
These 20 and 30 year olds have a lot of trouble relating to and in some cases even being with their partner’s parents and family. Hair-raising stories are related where the in-laws appear of have done everything in their power to alienate their son’s partner. I hear one side of the story. How the in-laws, on the other side, feel is never revealed to me.
It may be that I am just blessed and I feel blessed when I hear these stories.
My first meeting with son’s girl friend, some years ago, struck the right note for an on-going relationship. This is my view. I haven’t asked her.
It was a hot February night and she and my son called at my place and for some reason, incomprehensible now, We travelled in my car. We went to Cafe Dang on Fitzroy Street, St. Kilda. It would be 15mins at the most from my house. There was a quarter hour park outside the cafe and not another park in sight. We chose a table were we could keep watch on the car. After some time an hour park became free further up the street.
“There’s a better park! You can move into it!” announced my son.
“Someone will get it before I managed to get the car sorted out’” I said.
My son’s girl friend jumped up. “I’ll stand in it and keep people away.” She rushed off.
I retrieved my car and managed to get into the Saturday night Fitzroy Street traffic and crawled forward. My son's girl friend waved would-be parkers away. I positioned myself, cars stopped and I backed into the space. There was a resounding crash. I had backed into the car behind. I put my car into drive and straightened up.
My son stood up at the table as if to braced himself for trouble. I got out and locked the door. We studied the car behind me. Traffic and people surged past. No one took any notice of us. We walked back to our table. “What you need is another wine”said my son’s girlfriend laughing. She was right and as I was a bit shaken and a bit tense I spilt it.
We have remained friends and I believe over the intervening years our friendship has depended. I value her opinion and her views. For me it’s a good friendship. I feel sorry for the girls who have stressful times in company of their in-laws but I feel more sorry for the in-laws. A real joy is missing from their lives.
I think Brad Pitts’ mother is lucky to see Jennifer as a friend she can visit. Of course I have no idea why they visit but I like to think that it’s because over time they have developed a friendship they value.
We have dined at the Café Dang on a couple of other occasions but none have come up to the level of the first dinner where our lives clicked together and we were united over Vietnamese food and a soft merlot.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
I have been reading through my blogs and I can see that I mention S when she is on a road to fading away from this life. I’m not keeping you up-to-date with progress. And there is some progress. Quite suddenly and for no apparent reason she decided to eat again.
Eating doesn’t mean gulping down quantities of food. It is dainty, refined eating with elegance as she samples something, thinks about it then decides to take another bite. A number of bites are then taken. So many that she now weighs more and when I’m in bed and lean over to scoop her up to be with me she is considerably heavier. If she gets much heavier I will have to use two hands.
The other thing I left unfinished was the missing property. The address was 25 – 27 but the file in my hand clearly stated 27. In the rather damp-light of the next morning I discovered it behind a group of trees. It’s an unprepossessing property and very private hiding behind the trees. There is no chance of getting a peep into one of the lit rooms on a clear sharp night. The property is now let and the new tenant feels that because the balcony is hidden from the road it's vulnerable to an intruder and has requested a security door. I think an intruder would be very lucky to notice it was there .
I have a cold this weekend – the first time I have had one in Melbourne and this evening I am feeling very sorry for myself as I sneeze, blow my nose, mop my eyes and generally feel miserable. My head aches and my throat is sore. As I stood in the super-market queue this afternoon showing every sign of a heavy cold people kept their distance. The check-out person leaned so far away that she dropped all my change and had to search the floor for it. In the end she replaced it from the till.
Eating doesn’t mean gulping down quantities of food. It is dainty, refined eating with elegance as she samples something, thinks about it then decides to take another bite. A number of bites are then taken. So many that she now weighs more and when I’m in bed and lean over to scoop her up to be with me she is considerably heavier. If she gets much heavier I will have to use two hands.
The other thing I left unfinished was the missing property. The address was 25 – 27 but the file in my hand clearly stated 27. In the rather damp-light of the next morning I discovered it behind a group of trees. It’s an unprepossessing property and very private hiding behind the trees. There is no chance of getting a peep into one of the lit rooms on a clear sharp night. The property is now let and the new tenant feels that because the balcony is hidden from the road it's vulnerable to an intruder and has requested a security door. I think an intruder would be very lucky to notice it was there .
I have a cold this weekend – the first time I have had one in Melbourne and this evening I am feeling very sorry for myself as I sneeze, blow my nose, mop my eyes and generally feel miserable. My head aches and my throat is sore. As I stood in the super-market queue this afternoon showing every sign of a heavy cold people kept their distance. The check-out person leaned so far away that she dropped all my change and had to search the floor for it. In the end she replaced it from the till.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Mid-winter Weekend
A very cold grey and of course wintry weekend. It rained, the wind was cold and the skies were overcast for most of the 48 hours. A domestic weekend. There is something very satisfying about a domestic weekend. This evening the washing’s done, the house is clean, food is ready for next week and my phone is fully charging.
It has not been all-domestic. I saw the movie Knocked Up on Saturday - so much better than I expected. Funny, warm, realistic and moving with some great dialogue. Afterwards we ate at an old favourite, the Brighton Bar and Grill. We thought of trying somewhere else but it was too cold. We wanted the comfort of the familiar and the knowledge that the food would be good and there would be no surprises. In other words a warm cocoon with the cold world outside. The cocoon was necessary because the film was set in Los Angels where the sun shone and everyone was wearing skimpy dresses.
Today I lunched at the café at the Gasworks Park in Port Melbourne. This is better in the summer when you can sit out side. The design inside including the all timber makes for an echo chamber. Din is part of the atmosphere. I was thinking of sound as we struggled to talk over the noise. Places do have their own sounds. .
I listen to the sound of the gym today as I lay on my mat waiting for the Ab. Track to begin. There’s the loud thunk from the Don Oliver plates being dropped into place and a softer thud when someone lowers them gently. Behind that noise is the crash of the bars being returned to the rack. In other gyms they stood them up right but at this one they lie on their side. Dropped the crash reverberates and put into place gently they make a slight ping. I think dropping the equipment gives satisfaction. Most equipment is dropped with thwacks, bangs and crashes filling the room. If I were a musician I would write this and the shouts from the instructor, into a piece of music. Breath out, breath in, upstairs, knees soft, back straight, bend , lower, up,up , stretch, keep moving, keep it flowing. I like the thought of the commands and the equipment noise becoming one.
It has not been all-domestic. I saw the movie Knocked Up on Saturday - so much better than I expected. Funny, warm, realistic and moving with some great dialogue. Afterwards we ate at an old favourite, the Brighton Bar and Grill. We thought of trying somewhere else but it was too cold. We wanted the comfort of the familiar and the knowledge that the food would be good and there would be no surprises. In other words a warm cocoon with the cold world outside. The cocoon was necessary because the film was set in Los Angels where the sun shone and everyone was wearing skimpy dresses.
Today I lunched at the café at the Gasworks Park in Port Melbourne. This is better in the summer when you can sit out side. The design inside including the all timber makes for an echo chamber. Din is part of the atmosphere. I was thinking of sound as we struggled to talk over the noise. Places do have their own sounds. .
I listen to the sound of the gym today as I lay on my mat waiting for the Ab. Track to begin. There’s the loud thunk from the Don Oliver plates being dropped into place and a softer thud when someone lowers them gently. Behind that noise is the crash of the bars being returned to the rack. In other gyms they stood them up right but at this one they lie on their side. Dropped the crash reverberates and put into place gently they make a slight ping. I think dropping the equipment gives satisfaction. Most equipment is dropped with thwacks, bangs and crashes filling the room. If I were a musician I would write this and the shouts from the instructor, into a piece of music. Breath out, breath in, upstairs, knees soft, back straight, bend , lower, up,up , stretch, keep moving, keep it flowing. I like the thought of the commands and the equipment noise becoming one.
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