Distasteful Ironing

It’s all over! They have gone home after five an a half weeks of steak and chips, cheesecake and the same stories over and over again and a bit of sightseeing.

You know the story of the jar straightening. You know the story of the bigotry. I have been selective in the tales I have told because of a) there isn’t enough room in cyberspace to take it all and b)I have a lot to live for and telling the tales, having lived them takes it out of me. There are some the just NEED to be shared, lest my head explore from un-vented frustration.

So to the tales of distasteful ironing. MIL and FIL returned from a jaunt down to Melbourning and felt compelled to do all their washing. Heaven offend that you should take dirty washing home with you after a holiday. So washing they did. Only the didn’t just do theirs. They went into our bedroom and took the few dirty items that were happy festering in the ‘laundry bin’ and put them into to wash with theirs. Now, I don’t know about you, but I shudder at the thought of my knickers (pants, kacks, daks, underwear, whatever you call them) going around in the machine with that of my FIL, much less the tumble dryer (or hanging on the washing line).

But it get worse! MIL irons everything…and I mean everything. So when I visited the house the other day there was a neat pile of washing on the end of the bed with a pair of my knickers, folded (they’re not that big) AND ironed on top of a load of Hubbies t-shirts. Eww! Stay away from my pants!

Calm blue ocean [breath in, breath out].

They have departed now…just back to the UK and they are threatening to visit again, so we are going to have to put up with ‘I can’t find anything on this menu’, ‘they all look the same’ and ‘where are the trains?’ comments all over again one day.

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Sloshed in the Valley

After arising at a decent hour for a weekend Hubby the In-laws and I made our way to the Hunter Valley for a spot of strolling around the gardens and cheese tasting.

Nah…who am I trying to kid!

Our first stop of the day (after lunch and a cuppa tea and bubbles at Petersons Champagne House) was Waverley Estates. Nothing at this vineyard is less than eight years old. MIL and I started by tasting a 1992 Shiraz, very nice. Then the 1994 Shiraz which is also called ‘bushfire in a glass’, extremely nice. Then came the 1998, which was a very good year, or so I’m told. This continued, shiraz, cab sav then the port, after nearly an hour MIL was having trouble with the slight movement of the bar (or was it her balance?). So we moved on the less intimidating surrounds of Vinden Estate.

Vinden Estate Wines has a wonderfully easy drinking wine called Alicante Boushet. It’s a red grape processed like a white grape so in the bottle it looks like a rose and drinks like pop. We had gone there with the express purpose of stocking up as we were down to the last bottle of 2004. A quick call to Trixy also revealed that he wanted some too, so we came away with twelve bottles (aka A Case). FIL was horrified, but despite being a tee-total he was quite happy to buy a hat.

We took them to a big, les boutique place next. Tempest Two has a spalling cellar door that includes three restaurants and a café. At weekends they have a Spanish guitar player that annoys the staff ‘cause he only knows six tunes. MIL purchased a couple of bottles here and seemed much happier than I’d seen her in a while. FIL and hubby had a cuppa tea and piece cake

The Cheese tasting was next and I as usual purchase a bit of each while MIL complained that she wanted a cuppa tea. We rapidly moved to a café down the road where tea was ordered along with a bowl of chips and a piece of cheese cake. I went to the shop next door and tasted more cheese and brought some candied figs to go with my cheesy purchases.

The car trip home resulted in me pretending to be asleep in the back seat and everyone else talking about stuff I didn’t really want to hear about for the forth time.

I know, I know, I’m not trying I hear you say (Hubby stop telling me to be less monosyllabic!) I try to be nice, but I can’t bear the inane conversations that we have over and over. I don’t like it when FIL asks a million questions (for the third time) about wine or cheese or anything in fact, but won’t try it. I don’t like the way MIL doesn’t get to do or see things, or doesn’t even get a look in ‘cause FIL isn’t interested, I find it tiresome to hear about hot it is when they decided to come to Aust in February despite us telling them it was the hottest time of the year. And most of all I really hate when FIL makes racist comments and then Hubby defends him ‘because he doesn’t know better’.

I do try and I’ve found out, it’s much better if I just keep my mouth shut.

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Prelude to Purgatory

There are many things that I think I could be made to suffer over and over, if for some reason hell does exist and I end up there. I could have to suffer being told my mum has breast cancer when she wqas in the UK and I was in Aus or that any of my grandparents have passed away (only one left), but I truly believe that my punishment would be any time I have had to spend with my in-laws.

They just don’t have anything to say. And don’t even get me started on FIL.

I went out last night so caught up with Hubby and his parents at Chatswood Shopping Town around 1 o’clock after catching a train from the city. After our first cuppa tea (in Myer) we walked back to the car via the main street where he promptly asked in a loud voice, ‘what religion are most of these Chinese?’ After we explained that they tended to vary in religious affiliation he walked on. Then we got to speaking about shop hours in Australia and when I mentioned that I had eaten in a Sushi bar on Christmas day he announced ‘well the Chinese will do anything to make a quid,’ followed by ‘them and Indians, it’s in their breed.’ I was good and didn’t demand that Hubby stop the car ‘cause I didn’t want to breath the same air, instead I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I had to bite my tongue and be good, Hubby gets very upset when I call his Dad a prick to his face.

We purchased fresh leaves, meat and fish for dinner. When asked what they’d like the answer came ‘We’re easy.’ I’ve tried telling them they are deluding themselves, but it never sinks in. So I put the Rump on the BBQ along with Swordfish and made a tossed salad of Cos, baby spinach and watercress and put the pepper (capsicum) cucumber and tomato and a plate. I served it all so they could help themselves. MIL tried the swordfish (which she had never had) and like it. FIL didn’t and went straight for the ruined steak (he’ll only eat well done). While I was still picking at salad, FIL cleared the plates, then turned on the program he had paused before dinner.

He’s so f*cking rude! While MIL, Hubby and I had a nice chat over fruit (for dessert) he sat and watched Yes, Prime Minister!

I had to extract myself to do my readings for Uni. I’m so glad I have so much reading to do in these first few weeks. It’s the perfect excuse!

Tomorrow we are off to the Hunter Valley, where I have every intension of getting MIL in sloshed on tasters!

PS. Edna’s weirdo turned up out of the blue, asking to be friends, and she had to call the local constabulary.

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A Reasonable Update

There have been a few things happening recently and due to my being a social butterfly I just haven’t found the time to sit and write. Today though, I have decided to sit and update you on the happening of my life in reverse order.

First Night back at Uni
Last night I started back at University. This semester is going to be interesting from a time management point of view ‘cause I have two classes on two nights (Monday and Tuesday). In the past I’ve managed to schedule both classes on the same day so I haven’t lost too much free time and been able to plan my study time better. I hope this way works out too.

When I walked into the Uni building last night I had to walk a gauntlet of 18-20 year olds trying to get me to join their chosen cause.
‘Sign a partition against the War!’ Which War?
‘Join the Christian coalition.’ Get away from me.
‘How can socialism help you?’ I don’t know and I don’t care.
‘Are you suffering from depression?’ Only at the fact I can’t walk un-accosted by students who seem to be devoting their time to activities other than studying.

Also, what’s with the freaky-arse hair-do’s?

Edna’s Birthday Bash
On Saturday Edna had a drinkie-poos to celebrate her birthday. It was due to start at six in a not so salubrious establishment in Newtown. By 7.30 she had had three cancellation text messages and still her only company was Hubby, myself and Moohosive Moose. She was, understandably disappointed at the lateness of the cancellations. By 9, everyone else had turned up, so all was OK. Edna never had less than three bottles of Strongbow on the go at once, so it was all extremely good.

The Red Dot
As you know the in-laws are in town. On Friday night Edna and I escaped the confines of the city to drink a bottle of wine and watch a movie in peace. When we got to the house it was very clean, not a problem, until I noticed that the kitchen had been cleaned to the point where the red dot on the tap (the hot water dot) had been scrubbed away. Then I opened the cupboards and all my jars had been lined up like little soldiers with labels facing out. THEN, I went to the loo and my shampoo was lined up like a display in Coles.

And this man denies having OCD!

Sorry the pictures are a bit bt blurry, but they were taken on my phone, and i may have been shaking!

One down, too many to go

The in-laws have been here not quite a day. In fact they had been here little under five hours before they started irritating Before they had even given their son a hug hello Father-in-Law (FIL) was complaining about how heavy the hand luggage was ‘cause of the stuff they had to buy in duty free. They offered, Hubby asked!

(Incidentally who was the cute guy with clown feet checking me out (and vice versa) in Arrivals? He was about 5’10” or 11” with short dark hair, and orange and white striped shirt and black trousers. Nice butt and enormous feet. I recognise him, but can’t for the life of my recall were I’ve seen him)

I drove out of the airport and into the city, FIL in the passenger seat, hubby behind me and Mother-in-Law. FIL starts telling us about the flight and how he ate a pound and half of Werther’s Orignals and hadn’t had any sleep for 36 hours. Then he started talking about his trains bearings (he’s a train nut and is currently refurbing a diesel engine). I asked when he learnt how to speak a foreign language. That went over his head. So I told him I was driving and a microsleep can kill. That went over his head too, So I told him trains are boring and he should wait until I wasn’t driving to tell that story.

I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like playing nice just at the moment.

After we put them in their hotel in the middle of Chinatown, we had to have something to eat. Now normally Hubby and I would go to Don King’s House of Pancakes (really called BBQ King) but FIL doesn’t eat ‘foreign muck’ so we ended up in the only place that did reasonably bland food. Delafrance on the corner of Goulburn and George, it’s open 24 hours for tea and sandwiches. It was gone 10pm so our choice was limited for a Monday night. A egg mayonnaise roll with lettuce and grated carrot proved to be exotic for FIL while MIL raved about a chocolate croissant. Once again we heard about the Werther’s and the lack of sleep for 36 hours before FIL had a go about my driving. When I told him to pack it in, he told the story of the train bearings again and something about Werther’s Orignals and sleep.

We put them back in the hotel at 11pm. I’d missed my swim and was quite frankly exhausted but the last few hours. Today Hubby has driven them to the house for the rest of the week. Of course it’s filthy, so I’m sure they will spend the next few days cleaning my house. As long as they put everything back were they find it, I say Let ‘em. Let's just hope they don’t find my BDSM book stash!

I must swim tonight! Release the tension.

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Something to See

OK, a couple weeks ago I mentioned that my in-laws are coming to town. A couple of days ago my eldest sister announced she would be in town the weekend of the 17/18 Feb. That also happens to be the first weekend that that In-laws are here.

There are now things to see. Hubby and I had our first (of many I’m sure) argument about his parents. My sister does not like his Dad, they met at our wedding and I haven’t seen my sister for seven years or even met her husband, whom she married three years ago. Hubby seems to think that by me not spending my time with him and his parents I’m being selfish, but is quite happy for me to say to my sister, ‘Sorry, I can’t see you after you made the effort to come to Sydney ‘cause I have to spend time with my in-laws.’

Who’s being selfish?

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PS. This is my 200th entry.

Nothing to see here...YET!

I went to the doctor today and my blood pressure is fine. So I rewarded myself by not going swimming and planning out the six weeks that hubbies parents are going to be here. They arrive on Monday 12th Feb in the evening, and trust me when I say the stress of that planning session used up several million more calories than half an hour of swimming ever would.

You may hear tales of woo over the next few weeks and my apoligies in advance. I'll try and make them funny :-)

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